Guest Post with Eco-Writer Walkiria Bass

‘…my need to write was born as a way to process trauma.‘

‘Find a balance between believing in your writing and humility.‘

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Walkiria Bass (writing name Ana Maria Luisa) is a Brazilian writer based near Downham Market in West Norfolk. I met her through Norwich Writers Rebel and have come to hugely admire her strength of spirit, charisma and compassionate nature.

How long have you been writing for and what made you want to write in the first place?

Now I know that my need to write was born as a way to process trauma. Ever since I can remember, growing up in Brazil, my refuge was to run, hide and write little songs and poems in my head. I never intended to be a writer.

What are your inspirations in your writing?

Anything that moves me emotionally.  Of lately, psychedelics.

How has your Brazilian heritage inspired your writing?

My experience is more intrinsic with my ancestry than the Brazil shaped by the colonisers after the invasion in 1500.

I connect deeply with my Tupi-Guarani great-grandmother: her sacred ancient wisdom, her plight, and how she survived and adjusted to dispossession and colonialism without losing her ancestral spirituality or humanity.

The plight of my female Indigenous lineage informs my writing.

Can you tell us a little about your work in progress?

My work in progress came about in a serendipitous way. I had just finished a shamanic retreat in the New Forest last August when, while talking to Don Chino, who hosts these retreats all over the world and in the Peruvian Amazon, I felt a deep need to get to know his story and his connection with Madre Ayahuasca. The title ‘Modern Day Shamans’ kept coming to me.

It was not until my current editor, who is in the process of finishing edits on my eco-novel Samauama and the Sacred Tree, prompted me to write a memoir about my psychedelic experiences that I started writing Modern Shamans.

I will be going back to the New Forest in August to meet Madre Ayahuasca again and to see if I can write about Don Chino’s journey, as well as the other shamans who work with him. I am collecting stories of modern-day shamans.

Walkiria playing and singing at a Norwich Writers Rebel open mic with two teenagers

What are you most proud of in your life?

I am struggling a bit with this one.  The ideas of pride and being proud feels like double-edged swords to me. Being part of a species that are destroying this miraculous little planet, is nothing to be proud of.

But, on reflection, I am proud that my life, my ancestry and the painful awareness I carry have not made me bitter, and that I am still able to feel so much joy. So, let’s just say I am proud that my heart has evolved enough to carry sadness and joy, despair and hope, simultaneously.

Where do you feel most at home?

Deep in my heart.

Do you have a favourite book of all time that you think everyone should read?

I would encourage anyone to research and read about emotional intelligence. I feel that EQ has been overlooked in human development but it is vital for us to build healthy families and communities. 

What work has been the most meaningful for you over the years?

My work as a psychotherapist in various clinical settings: addictions, psychiatry, domestic violence, and now private practice.

What advice would you give others wishing to write but lacking confidence?

I would start by doing some meaningful inner child work. Start by spending time in meditative reflection on your upbringing and what made you lack confidence in the first place. What narratives were you told that you are still telling yourself? Write a letter to your inner child and former younger selves. This work is best done with the guidance of a therapist or a trusted friend who is able to  hold an emotional, non-judgemental space for you.

Once you have rescued your inner child, she will be free to be whoever she wants to be. She will be free to write and free to shine her light. Then if you haven’t done so already,  improve your craft, join writing communities and take creative writing courses that are right for you.  Read as a writer.  Find a balance between believing in your writing and humility.

What gives you hope?

The kind people of the world, the joyful innocence of children, the dreamers, the poets, the activists and, and of course, the Ayahuasqueiros.

Condensed prologue of Samauma and the Sacred Tree

She was named after an ancient sacred tree, revered by her people, its roots entwined deep into the earth while its branches stretched toward the stars: an ephemeral bridge connecting Heaven and Earth.

They used to call her the girl with rainbow eyes, the much-loved daughter of a wise shaman and a holistic therapist. And if that wasn’t enough, she was guided by Iracema, her spirit mother. But that was a long time ago.  In the past few years, undoubtedly the worst of her life, she was no longer capable of distancing herself from her memories. They made her shiver during the day and kept her awake at night. Luckily, she was born with the ability to self-soothe through lucid dreaming, taking flight through different dimensions and immersing herself once more in the enchanting wonders of the rainforest, revisiting a past that felt achingly perfect.

“Samaúma, it is getting dark; time to come out of the forest.” She sees her eight-year-old self, eyes shut, hugging the smooth bark of her cherished tree, breathing in its earthy, heavy scent.  She waits a few more minutes, knowing the precise moment before dusk to open her eyes and witness her favourite daily show as the white flowers of her tree blossom in sumptuousness. Heart racing and a wide grin on her face, she gives her tree one final tight hug before running home to her Yamandu.

Memories of Kirsten, her English mother who came from across the oceans to learn shamanism with Yamandu, with her pale freckled face, kind grey eyes and hair as red as a tropical sunset, weighed heavy on her heart. She hoped her mother died knowing how much she was loved. She hoped she had said the right words at the right time.

 As she walked once again through that verdant habitat, the air thickened with the scent of damp earth and rich foliage, creating an intoxicating perfume that was both ancient and alive. Towering trees stretched upwards with their trunks wrapped in vibrant epiphytes: orchids, bromeliads and mosses while a kaleidoscope of leaves filtered the sunlight, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. A symphony of sounds surrounded her: the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the insistent tap tap tap of a howler monkey trying to break the shell of a Brazil nut against a tree.

Thank you for reading this blog post and thank you so much Walkiria for coming on the blog. Compliment it with reading guest post with writer Mike Robbins and writer and activist Lesley Grahame.