Ayahuasca: here’s the deal
It’s been two weeks since my first ayahuasca ceremony on my journey to heal trauma with plant medicine. I have never been more impacted, changed, or spiritually fulfilled by a single experience in my entire life.
Ayahuasca’s medicine still flows through my veins today, helping me heal and giving me an immense amount of understanding from just one ceremony. I THINK EVERYONE SHOULD DO THIS!!!!! However, I realize that new things can cause fear, and fear generally stems from a lack of understanding. I’m going to pull back the curtain on ayahuasca, bringing it out of the shadows and into the light.
I was contacted by the lovely “G,” who was the spiritual guide for my first ceremony. The best way to describe him is that he’s a gay, Puerto Rican Mr. Miyagi dressed in his rainbow sari. He is wise and kind, mysterious (in the best way), spiritual, and knowledgeable about this process in true Karate Kid fashion. He gave me instructions for the seven days before the ceremony: eat clean, drink PLENTY of water, and no sugars or sodas.
OhhhhhhhKAY, here’s the part where I tell you that I have a horrible habit of drinking only Diet Dr. Pepper and…zero water. My husband is always telling me that I’m certainly dehydrated with all that soda and lack of H2O. I then point out that Diet Dr. Pepper is mostly water, so therefore I am hydrated AF. However, I was singing a different tune on ceremony night when I found out the hard way about dehydration. Protip: listen to your guide and come to your ceremony hydrated. Drink water.
I arrived at the meeting space on ceremony night, bringing a yoga mat, pillow and blanket, notebook/pen, water, Gatorade, and a puke bucket. That’s right….a puke bucket. Protip: bring all the items your guide asks for. Some may not be needed, but it is better to have them and not use them than to need them and not have them.
According to traditional belief, purging yourself of toxic thoughts and trauma from the body may result in diarrhea, shaking, crying, and sweating; I experienced all four.
We gathered on mats, and G led us through a set of centering exercises, giving us our first serving of ayahuasca hot cocoa. It was grainy with a root-texture-ish taste but went down smoothly. My stomach was in knots with anticipation, so OF COURSE, I was the first to throw up. My embarrassment disappeared the moment I realized everybody was doing it and nobody cared.
The next purge was the poop part; shitty but completely containable. I was able to get to the toilet with plenty of warning. However, after the second cup of cocoa, my dehydration sent the liquid right back up. I immediately stressed out that I had consumed maybe twenty percent of the medicine everyone else had, and it would be a challenging 6-8 hours if I weren’t appropriately dosed. I scolded myself for my lack of prep and messing it up on my very first try. IDIOT! Protip: let your guide worry about these things. Share your concern with him/her and let them guide you appropriately.
Then, I felt the medicine flowing through me— I saw colors and light bursts in the air and felt the drumming from G’s magical music playlist, which was mesmerizing. For me, ayahuasca was female, and she started whispering things to me that I could never interpret for myself. I couldn’t access that part of my brain on my own, and ayahuasca was now my translator. She told me I was the perfect person to have this experience because my failure to prepare was a learning opportunity to educate others from making my mistakes. My loss would help somebody succeed later—it was brilliant and straightforward and right in my wheelhouse.
I told mother I had three intentions: to come to terms with the loss of my relationship with my ex, to move forward in my business with confidence, and to release the guilt and shame I carried for screwing up my daughter’s lives. Protip: show up to your ceremony with clear intentions.
In the middle of a late-night winter storm in Salt Lake City, mother ayahuasca lay on my mat with me. She showed me that the trauma and anguish my ex and I experienced had squashed my ability to look at him as my first true love. We had damaged each other so severely it prevented me from considering HIS pain in our break-up. She showed me how he felt, left alone and broken-hearted. I wept for him. Mother lifted the shame and grief from my hand and released it, whispering that I had beat myself up enough about the death of my first marriage. I finally felt peace and acceptance.
G would turn off his magical playlist and sing songs acapella style in a startlingly beautiful clear, high voice during the ceremony. Every song played seemed perfect for that moment in my ceremony, and I heard and saw G chanting, dancing, kicking ass, and taking spiritual names. I let the music wash over my body, and I finally felt like ME…the me I had beaten down and buried under the shame and guilt felt for being repeatedly unfaithful to a husband I had loved. Protip: enjoy what your guide provides. Each guide brings different elements to their ceremonies.
Finally, mother wrapped me in her arms and told me that the hard work done this past year in therapy was paying off in spades— my girls loved me and trusted me again. They came to me for love, comfort, and advice. It made me whole. Mother said that the times together as a revamped Family 2.0 were the golden years we would reminisce about later. Just like that, I watched my mom-guilt/shame/remorse as it stood up and slipped silently out of the room.
The ceremony ended around four a.m., and I was both thrilled and exhausted. Six days after the ceremony, my words started flowing, and they haven’t stopped. Despite suffering from writer’s block for months, I suddenly wrote within five minutes, that marketing piece I’d been forever putting off while sitting in the driveway in my car.
I can’t wait until I get to come back, get out of my own way and have this experience with 100% of the medicine. The possibilities of what plant medicine can do for me are endless! And this old girl is just getting started. Buckle up.