Three months ago, I wouldn’t have agreed to sweat my ass off in a Temazcal. But everything changed after I dropped a mystical dose of psilocybin mushrooms. Since that day, I feel the course of my life changed. And amazingly, it continues to course-correct as I become more aware of my negative thought patterns and behaviors.
I’ve made changes in my life for the better with each course correction. Sometimes with big things like giving up alcohol, or smaller things like starting BJJ. I put all of those decisions down to our fungi friends. In fact, I put them all down to asking myself a simple question: “Would I do this if I truly loved myself?” If the answer is no, then I let it go. Not because I think it’s the right thing to do (everyone knows alcohol is bad for you), but because I know it in my soul. It’s my true self talking (whoever the fuck that is.)
Up to now (three months after the mushroom ceremony), making “self-love” based decisions was easier. Now I feel like those magical, life-affirming effects are wearing off. I don’t know whether it’s normal? I still understand their importance, I still feel the awe and gratitude for life, I just have to work hard at making sure I do. Whether it’s meditation, breathing, yoga, or whatever. It’s not as ever-present as before. Like when I’d start crying with gratitude looking at a Tetra Pak of Almond Milk, for example.
This “wearing off’ led me to the next phase of my spiritual journey.
The sun had just set over Santa Marta.
The sun had just set over Santa Marta. I watched it dip behind a distant mountain of the Sierra Nevada. Brilliant orange and red hues were painted across the sky. I remained still and calm, perched on a rocky step at the hostel’s sunset viewpoint. I was staying at Mundo Nuevo in Minca. One of my favorite hostels in one of my favorite places in Colombia.
The sunset viewpoint at Mundo Nuevo, Minca.
A few years ago, when I arrived for the first time, I remember speaking to an Italian girl who’d just done an Ayahuasca ceremony. At the time, I didn’t really know what Ayahuasca was, but something about the way she spoke about the experience and her presence spoke to me. I wasn’t sure why. I thought of her again as I made my way to my room. Later that night, I checked my WhatsApp stories. My friend and spiritual ceremony facilitator, Ivaylo, had posted about an upcoming Ayahuasca ceremony on the 15th of October. The same week as my birthday. Hang on a second I thought, this is too much of a coincidence. I began thinking about messaging him. I started feeling anxious. Should I? Shouldn’t I? I decided to give it time. To let the answer come from my heart, not my head.
A few days later, on a beach on Parque Tayrona, the answer came. I was gently swaying back and forth in a hammock listening to a Podcast about Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. The conversation turned to mushrooms and Ayahuasca. The way he spoke about his experiences spoke to me again in a way I couldn’t explain. The universe couldn’t have said it any louder. I told Ivaylo I was in.
Secluded beach, Wachakyta in Parque Tayrona.
“I think you’d like the Temazcal ceremony as well”
I was hoping for a recommendation. Because to be honest, I didn’t really know what it was. A kind of sweat lodge or something (definitely didn’t think it was a type of Tequila…) Anyway, I trusted Ivaylo’s judgment and said I was in for that as well.
The day of the Temazcal ceremony
“Are you here for Ivaylo’s thing?” I asked a girl who looked like she was probably here for Ivaylo’s thing. She was British like myself, now working for a company based in Colombia. Gradually, more of us arrived. More from the UK, the US, and Colombia. At these ceremonies, you meet good people. People trying to understand themselves and their place in the world. Even if you’re apprehensive about the ceremony or the unknown, you know the energy will be good.
We bundled into the private bus that would take us to Guarne. A small town in the mountains outside of Medellín. I plonked myself down in the back, my legs squished into the seat in front at an awkward angle to make space for my backpack. Ivaylo took the seat next to me. It was the first time we’d chatted properly since the mushroom ceremony. Once on the road, he pulled out his plant medicine bag. From the bag, he pulled out a clear bag filled with green powder and a small black medicine tub with a white screw top. I know what that is I thought. “Do you want some Mambe?” Ivaylo offered. I declined (remembering the first time I did it). After a few minutes of reflection, I decided to give it another go.
The process involves rubbing Ambil de Tobacco on your gums. This thick black, sticky medicine embodies the divine masculine energy. Then you use a wooden spoon to shovel a heaped spoonful of Mambe into your mouth a la the cinnamon challenge. To be honest, the first time you’ll likely splutter out a green dusty cloud. But the idea is to keep the Mambe in your mouth until it forms a paste, then you wedge it in the side of your mouth between your gums where it remains for a few hours. Perhaps for the pros. I sit there with my cheeks puffed out like hamsters self-conscious about my new green teeth. However, the effect of the divine feminine energy is worth the clumsiness. At first, a wave of calm comes over your body and then you relax into a peaceful sensation.
Forty minutes later, with the Mambe still lodged in my gums, we arrived at La Abuela Gloria’s Finca. The 360 view was spectacular. The perfect blue sky made everything on its canvas pop as if someone had turned the contrast up to max. La Abuela Gloria greeted us all on her front lawn with a compassionate embrace. Over her shoulder, the fire was roaring and the sweat lodge structure ready. Before anything, we sprawled out in La Abuela Gloria’s living room. The room was large and airy, the faintest smell of the fire would waft in occasionally. I sat down on an old rocking chair facing La Abuela. She greeted us once more and we proceeded with a Q&A about the ceremony. Ivaylo provided English translations for those who needed them.
La Abuela Gloria’s Finca in Guarne.
So what is a Temazcal ceremony?
Questions out the way, it was time to start the ceremony preparations. From my experience and from what I’ve heard, most ceremonies begin with the ingestion of Rapé. If you’d read about my mushroom experience, you’d know what happened there…but anyway, this time was different. Instead of a fine powder, this Rapé was liquid. The mode of ingestion? Yep, you guessed it, up the hooter as well.
La Abuela Gloria picked up the bowl full of the dark brown coffee-like liquid. She scooped up a dessert spoon’s worth into her cupped left hand, then she snorted it while throwing her head back to keep it from dripping back out. She took it like a champ compared to the rest of us. I could still hear the snorty discomfort from the others when I sucked up the sacred tobacco-based liquid. My eyes watered immediately and a burning sensation filled my sinuses. It was uncomfortable, but the effects are amazing. Your nose breathing becomes easier and your energy feels rejuvenated.
It’s also important to have an intention before ingesting el Rapé. I’ve used it a few times at home before meditation and it’s powerful stuff. There have been times I’ve set my intention on gratitude and then sat there blubbing about how thankful I am. After all, Tobacco is the most sacred of all plants among the indigenous people for a reason.
I stripped down to my swim shorts and lined up alongside the firepit waiting to enter the Temazcal. I entered on all fours, holding myself above the cold, wet earth beneath. La Abuela Gloria welcomed me in. She and Ivaylo then began explaining more about the ceremony.
This is the Temazcal after the ceremony, but you can see the structure covered in cow hide and blankets.
Note: There are so many important things I either can’t remember or didn’t understand so I recommend chatting to Ivaylo if you want more detail.
La Abuela Gloria directed our attention upwards. At the top of the wooden structure, there were four strings connected together in the shape of a square. Hanging from the strings were various ribbons and symbols. Each side of the square represented North, East, West, and South. We were going to honor each cardinal direction through prayer and song.
It turned out that I was sitting on the west side of the Temazcal. Quite fitting I thought (my last name is West).
We were ready to begin the ritual
In came the first stone. They were volcanic stones in the shape of large eggs. Ivaylo lifted the first into the center pit of the Temazcal using antlers as a shovel (sounds odd but that’s how it’s done!). The stone fizzed and hizzed as it hit the wet earth and the stone’s veins glowed redder in the darkness. Four stones later, we were ready to begin the first door.
The door was closed leaving the inside of the Temazcal in complete darkness. La Abuela Gloria placed different plant medicines onto the stones releasing beautiful aromas into the atmosphere. She then poured water over the stones, raising the temperature immediately. Each breath became harder and the heat and medicine filled my lungs. The song and prayer started. I tried my hardest to listen to the words and get out of my head. The heat, awkward position, and lack of water didn’t help.
We completed the first door after about 30 minutes or so. At this point, the door to the Temazcal is opened and we get a breather. It was tough, but I felt myself connecting with the ceremony. I felt connected to the earth and my body was surging with energy.
Ready for the next group of fresh red hot stones.
The prayer and song continued. It was beautiful and touched the soul. Here is one song I really connected with:
By the time the last door was complete, I felt amazing. To this day, I’m not exactly sure how long we were in there. I guess around two and a half hours. I didn’t have any visions, but I felt grounded and my energy felt clean and open. In fact, La Abuela told us to take care of our energy for the next few days. She was right… later that day, walking along La 70 in Medellín, I could feel the energy from the bars blasting reggaeton and people enjoying their Saturday night at warp speed.
En Fin.
The leap of faith and trust in Ivaylo paid off again. He’s played a big part in my spiritual growth this year, so I want to make sure anyone who reads this knows Colibri Garden is a trustworthy place to go if you’re called to this path too. However, the biggest step came two weeks after this Temazcal ceremony. I took part in my first Yagé ceremony (AKA Ayahuasca). And what happened during that ceremony may well be what I was looking for since I was a child…
Nick
P.S. Here is Ivaylo’s Facebook / Instagram
