I wandered off the healing path I found last year. My thoughts had become darker. And by darker, I mean thinking it would be easier not to live. So, yeah, not so positive.
I think it’s because I’ve been feeling stuck. Stuck in an unfulfilling job. Financially unsafe. And knowing I may have to leave the country I love, Colombia. Oh, and I have a puppy (who I love with all my heart) I need to support amidst this shit storm.
Was I right to feel stuck? So negative? Maybe – definitely – I was playing the victim. But I couldn’t snap out of it.
Anyway, I feel I’ve stumbled back onto the path I strayed from. Now I feel hope, optimism, opportunity.
In fact, I owe it to my good friends Alex and Andrea.
They’d been trying to convince me to drink Ayahuasca during the summer solstice in Putumayo for months. For some reason – a week before the trip – I looked at flights. The flight time was 11:11… how could I not go?
We’d do back-to-back Ayahuasca ceremonies. They’d turn out to be the most challenging yet healing to date.
Here’s the story.
From Pasto to Sibundoy, Putumayo.
“The most dangerous landing in Colombia”
I’d heard landing in Pasto gets the ‘ol sphincter muscle quivering. The plane emerges from the clouds, traverses in between two gargantuan green mountains, and before you know it you’re skidding down the runway on another mountain below.
Challenge #1 out of the way, we made our way from Pasto to Sibundoy. The nearest town to our shamans’ family estate (bizarre we’d be staying with an actual Shamanic family).
My first thoughts; Putumayo couldn’t be more different from Antioquia. Not just the landscapes, but the vibe. Walking around you see how connected people are with plant medicine. Murals of Ayahuasca visions and animals and nature cover walls and houses. Even talking about drinking Ayahuasca seemed natural – not the taboo topic in other parts of Colombia. I felt in the right place.
Mural we found during a visit to La Laguna de la Cocha.
Ayahuasca vision in Sibundoy, Putumayo
Kambo in the morning
Have you ever tried downing 2 litres of water at 6am? Well, that was breakfast the morning of the first Ayahuasca ceremony. We wanted to do Kambo before the ceremony. The medicine – which derives from frog venom – is used to cleanse the body and spirit. I’d done it once before and felt the full force of the frog i.e. puking my guts out. After, though, I felt cleaner internally, and I felt lighter emotionally.
This time was different.
We met Taita Jaime (Taita = Shaman in Colombia) in the Maloka. The place we’d spend the next two nights drinking Yagé (Yagé = Ayahuasca in Colombia).
We sat on wooden stools around the burnt out fire pit in the middle of the Maloka. The water glugged against the walls of my belly and the urge to pee grew stronger. At least I’ll spew this up shortly I thought.
I went first.
I stripped off my jumper revealing my back to Taita Jaime. He started the process. First, burning six dots down my spine. He then began applying the Kambo. I felt the familiar rush of heat build in my body and pound in my head as if I’d been hanging upside down for five minutes. I went outside ready for phase two; nausea. It never came. Usually after 5-10 minutes nausea sets in and the vom-cano erupts. The whole process lasts around thirty minutes. Not this time. This time we all had the same experience. Nobody vomited. The Kambo went easy on us. Showed us love.
Maloka where the Ayahuasca ceremonies take place
Before heading back to the house, I told Jaime I wanted to go deeper with the Ayahuasca. Perhaps drink two cups throughout the night because the last time I drank, I didn’t feel much. He responded; “uno es suficiente”. One’s enough.
I’d find out why later that night…
The first Ayahuasca ceremony
Two hours before the ceremony, I called my mum. One of those conversations where you thought you could hold yourself together. Within five minutes, my bottom lip was quivering and I burst into tears. I’d bottled up those emotions for months. The uncertainty I felt. The lack of direction in my life. It all came out in a blubbering mess before drinking one of the most powerful psychoactive substances on the planet. Sweet.
Anyway, I pulled myself together and met the others. We walked down to Maloka armed with mountains of blankets ready for a long, cold night.
Around fifteen people filled the Maloka. The energy felt nervous, heavy.
We laid our blankets in an alcove along the right side of the space. The only light came from the fire and candles marking the three exits. Exits we’d need to find when the purging starts.
By 9pm the ceremony had started. One by one people sitting around the fire went up to drink. It was my turn already. I didn’t feel prepared. No Rapé. No meditation on my intention. I felt rushed.
My turn to drink.
Taita Jaime passed me a shot glass full of Ayahuasca. I threw my head back and the thick, brown liquid filled my throat. Two gulps and it was gone. There was no going back now.
I laid down on my mat. An hour passed. Nothing.
Maybe I just don’t connect with Ayahuasca, I thought as I heard people purging around me.
Then it started.
Energy surged within my stomach and chest.The blackness of my eyelids swirled with light. Like tiger stripes. I felt overwhelmed. I thought I was going to explode from the excess energy. The white swirls opened up space for new colours to flood my vision. Toxic green crashed through my mind like the rip curl of a 100 metre wave breaking in the middle of a storm. It was too much. I wanted it to stop. New colours surged; blue, green, yellow, red, orange.
The colours looked similar to this hummingbird and the photo of the mural above.
My temperature sored and savage nausea set in. I knew I had to be sick, but the thought of moving seemed impossible. I opened my eyes. My vision reminded me of the predators (if you’ve seen the film). Geometric patterns filled the space. As if I could see the mathematical equation of our world.
I don’t know how long I sat with the discomfort, but I had to move. I had to find the exit. My body knew what to do. I swept away the blankets and sat up straight. I found my feet and steadied myself like a surfer jumping on their board. Five strides to my right I found a patch of grass. I fell to my knees and without thinking spewed. I remained on my knees looking into the darkness – the space scared me. To my right, someone was talking to themselves. I didn’t like the energy. I found my feet and got back to my safe space in the Maloka, burying my head beneath the covers. All around I could hear people suffering. It was not a nice experience.
The medicine began to fade and I remember thinking how glad I was it was over.
As day broke, I turned to Alex; “I’ve got zero interest in drinking again tonight, mate.”
Alex laughed. “Think about the positives. You don’t know what could happen tonight,” he replied.
Later, Alex, Andrea, and I shared our experiences. They were almost identical – strange because Ayahuasca ceremonies are typically unique to the individual. Taita Jaime told us how last night was cleansing. Night two would be completely different, thank god.
The second Ayahuasca ceremony
I dragged myself out of bed. An unseen force must’ve wanted me to drink again because I felt ready for round two. The defeated man from the morning had found strength.
We got to the Maloka earlier this time. Familiar faces sat around the fire pit. The energy was completely different; light, jovial, excited.
One of the men from the night before came over to say hello. He looked like a character from the Lord of the Rings. His shoulder length, grey hair was pulled back tight, sitting on top of his black and red striped poncho (known as Ruanas in Colombia). I half expected to see a bow and arrow on his back. We shook hands and exchanged knowing looks as if to say what the hell are we doing back here again. His good vibe and obvious experience with the medicine made me feel safe.
My good feeling about the ceremony grew. Not that it would be easy, but I was ready.
Another man from the night before offered us Rapé – a mixture of Tobacco and medicinal plants ingested before ceremonies. He had kind eyes and a beautiful aura.
We moved to the candle light by one of the exits. He asked my name and said a prayer before applying el Rapé up both nostrils. I felt protected. At ease.
Now, we drink.
Taita Jaime called me over from behind his altar. Without thinking I swallowed the Ayahuasca. Instead of sitting around the fire, I went straight to my mat and covered my head with blankets. I had no doubt the medicine would work this time.
After an hour, the medicine surged through my body. This time my vision was flooded with hot pink, white, and black chequered patterns. Again, it was too intense. I wanted it to be over – all I could do was use my breath to stay calm.
I heard people purging around me. My hearing felt like the Dolby HD surround sound you get in Cinemas. I could even hear the individual fibres of my blankets rubbing together when I moved.
Like the previous night, the nausea was unbearable. I wiped away the sweat from my forehead, got up, and found my patch of grass to purge. This time, I felt safe. I didn’t sense suffering or hear any freaky voices.
Once again, I collapsed onto my mat and the most incredible experience of my life began.
The chequered patterns had stopped moving. Wormholes opened and closed around me. I felt as if I were in a different dimension; a gentle, healing dimension.
The visions kinda looked like this.
Feelings of intense love and joy flooded my body. The joy felt so natural. I realised I hadn’t allowed myself to feel it enough in my life.
My mind traversed this new dimension. It sounds bizarre, but I met the souls of people important to me. First, I met Ivaylo. My friend and coach who helped me take my first steps on my journey. I felt gratitude. I saw how he’d overcome his past to become the person he is today. A big smile grew on my face. I couldn’t wait to tell him.
The smile on my face grew bigger. Alex and Andrea were there. Andrea zipped around as a joyful, playful hummingbird. And Alex glowed gold, sitting powerfully like a warrior. I could feel them by my side.
Then sorrow.
My best friend entered my mind. The medicine told me he needed help. That he was going further and further down the wrong path. I began to sob uncontrollably. When I stopped, I knew I had to do something. I – like when Ivaylo helped me – am further along the healing path. Even if I don’t feel ready, I can still help. I felt a responsibility to help raise others up. It became clear I could through my writing.
Old soul
I saw my mom’s soul. She was old, she was wise. She radiated a love that could burst my heart and put it back together again. I knew why she was my mum. Why she living her human experience. Why she’d gone through so much in her life. Because she could handle it. All she cared about was mothering and nurturing my sister and me. I bawled my eyes out.
Gratitude
During the experience I felt pure gratitude. I couldn’t believe I was getting the answers to all my intentions. I was so thankful for the deeper healing going on.
The father wound I talked about in my first Ayahuasca experience felt healed. I’m sure I need to integrate after the ceremony, but I felt great progress. I even received a message about how it’ll feel when I meet the right romantic partner. This year – my 33rd year – would be transformational.
The medicine faded.
I laid there staring at the ceiling of the Maloka in awe. Finally, I knew what I had to do. It’s not going to be easy. Not in our reality. Not when the human mind gets involved, but I knew. I felt hope.
Two weeks later
I’m writing this in Medellín. My life is seemingly falling apart. I’ve lost my job, I’ve broken up with my girlfriend of 6 months, and I’ve got one month left on my visa. I keep thinking; I should be stressed! – I’m not. I’m going into the unknown. I’m surrendering to what is. If anything, my “losses” have opened up the realm of infinite possibility. Whatever that may be.
