Fuck. The first word out my mouth every morning Monday to Friday. I’d say to myself: Should life really make me feel like this? I’m living in London, got a decent job, good boss, good colleagues, good friends. I should be fucking grateful for all of this. What’s wrong with me?
I know… I’ll quit my job, go back to Colombia. I’ll teach English or something. People will think I’m mad but it can’t be worse than this. I’ll be happy when all of this boring miserable, grey shit is long gone.
Fast forward a year and 6 months… I still felt the same. Don’t get me wrong, changing my environment was important. I love Colombia and when I’m traveling with friends or spending time with special people I feel happy. But when it’s back to the everyday grind that feeling comes back. Boredom. Apathy for life.
It took me a long time to accept that my environment wasn’t the real issue. I was.
Now, it’s worth mentioning, I had dipped my toes into the spiritual pond about 7 years ago. And even with a few soaked toes, I felt the benefits. I had glimpses of what could be. What should be. I read eye-opening books from Eckhart Tolle and Michael Singer and meditated daily. But even though I understood their teachings, internalizing them long enough and deep enough to sustain the benefits was challenging. That is until I had my first psychedelic experience with psilocybin mushrooms in Santa Elena, Colombia.
But before I go on, I want to provide you more insight into my internal dialogue before my first psychedelic experience. Maybe this resonates with you, or maybe not, but I feel it highlights why I decided to explore psilocybin mushrooms.
I truly feel for everyone fighting to put food on their families’ plates. But I just don’t get it; why should life be this hard? People say that’s life. It’s the way it is. Fuck that! Why? Why do we have to suffer for a few tired hours in the evening or the weekend to enjoy life? Some of us are fortunate enough to do something about it, myself included. But others have been fucked from the day they took their first breath. I don’t know if this is even true, but it’s my worldview. I’m apathetic toward life. It’s more boring than, well, living most of the time. I’m just glad I have a loving family and hope and belief in myself.
I want to experience life ALL the time. Why should that seem so impossible? What should we have to suffer?
Okay, that was me before the psilocybin mushroom ceremony on the 20th of July 2021.
The morning of the psilocybin mushroom ceremony
Silence. No fucks uttered this morning. Not since I left London now I think about. Instead, I laid in bed waiting for the alarm to sound. The sun beaming through the half-open blinds. I was lost in a trance – staring at a knot in the wooden ceiling that looked like a mariposa negra (black moth) – an omen here in Colombia. I found myself looking into the deeper meaning of everything. Probably not the best idea the day of your first psychedelic experience. I’d prepared for the whole weekend and Monday for this trip. The most meditation I’d done in years. The most mindful I’d ever been. In fact, I barely had a thought for three days. Seriously. I gave every thought – good or bad – my attention and came back to the present.
My intention was to learn about the inner workings of my mind. My traumas. My unresolved stuff. I was prepared to face some uncomfortable truths. Truths I may not be consciously aware of. If that was going to happen, I had to be in the right frame of mind.
That’s why I felt the psilocybin mushroom ceremony should be guided. And why I messaged Ivaylo from Colibri Garden to see if he could help.
This wasn’t a light show at a David Guetta concert in Ibiza. Or dabbing some mandy in a randomer’s house at 3 am after a night out in Shoreditch. This was a potentially life-changing experience.
The perfect setting
I got to Ivaylo’s place in Santa Elena around 9 am. It’s only 40 minutes outside of the city but I felt deep in the Colombian mountains. The rolling peaks zig-zagging across the horizon looked as if they were cut with a pair of serrated scissors. Their greenness was sharp and bright against the unspoiled blue sky.
I took a drag on the first clean air I’d had in weeks (Medellín’s air is horrible). I pulled it deep into my lungs. And hold 1 2 3 4. And release 1 2 3 4. I hoped some box breathing would calm my shivering brought on by the cold and nerves.
Then Ivaylo appeared from around the corner. We maintained eye contact and a gentle smile before embracing. I felt calmer.
The perfect preparation
Ivaylo tended the bonfire in the garden. He explained how important it is for their ceremonies. I couldn’t help but stare into the flames as he spoke. They provided heat and comfort. I didn’t realise just how grateful I’d be for this fire at this point.
After a good casual chat, it was time to start the mushroom ceremony.
I waited outside in nothing but a pair of swim shorts. Ivaylo handed me my plant bath in a clear plastic water bottle. I poured the green liquid over my body. It smelled of citrus, earth, and various herbs. It was pleasant. Which kinda makes sense as its purpose was to cleanse my energy. To prepare me for the experience.
We sat next to the fire. The smoke clung to my wet skin creating a smell I can only describe as earthy and ancestral. I already felt more connected with my surroundings. What came next would only amplify that feeling.
I was on my knees. Ivaylo pulled out a wooden pipe that looked like something Gandalf would use to blow smoke rings with Bilbo overlooking the shire. He filled the wooden blowpipe with Rapé. A fine greenish powder that comes from a type of tobacco leaf in Colombia. The substance is used to help clear the mind before ceremonies. And as it turns out, the nostrils too.
I exhaled fully. Ivaylo placed the pipe up to my left nostril. He blew. Hard. I felt the powder hit the back of my brain. Fuck that was strong. He loaded up again and repeated the action. My eyes streamed with water. When they stopped, I felt relaxed and calm if not a little wobbly.
Then we spoke openly and honestly about why I was there. About my childhood. My probable traumas. My intentions for the psilocybin mushroom ceremony. I was very vulnerable but Ivaylo made me feel safe and comfortable sharing personal experiences. As I write this, reflecting back on the experience, I understand how he has that way with people. He’s on a different level spiritually to anyone I’ve met.
The psilocybin mushroom Ceremony
Ivaylo dangled a clear zip-lock bag in front of me. The bag was about the size of a slice of bread and full of mushrooms.
Do I just eat ‘em then? I said.
(I honestly had no idea what I was doing.)
There are different ways to consume mushrooms. Ivaylo’s preferred method was to soak them in cacao. He poured the glistening deep brown cacao into 2 mugs. Then came the psilocybin mushrooms. He gave me a 3.5-gram dose. Not a huge dose, but enough to bring on a mystical experience. The dosage required for a mystical experience ranges from 3.5-5 grams. Obviously, you can do more, but fuck knows where you’d end up.
Ivaylo raised his mug to his heart. I did the same. We spent some moments connecting with the mushrooms – making our intentions clear to them. I didn’t feel strange at any point. Everything we’d done up to now just made sense.
I scooped out a few mushrooms from the mug. They felt soggy and looked like, well, mushrooms. The kind you might find growing between the cracks in your patio. I popped a few into my mouth expecting to gag on the taste. I chewed with caution. There wasn’t an overpowering taste at all. Not tasty but palatable. I sipped on the cacao. The liquid helped ease the half-chewed mushrooms down my throat. In less than 3 minutes, the contents of the mug were gone.
Now, we wait.
I paced around the garden trying to stay calm. More box breathing; Inhale 1 2 3 4, Hold 1 2 3 4, Exhale 1 2 3 4. Hold 1 2 3 4. It helped but didn’t stop my mind from saying: Nick, you’ve just eaten a fuck ton of mushrooms, shit’s about to go down.
After about 30 minutes, I got the tingle. Ivaylo asked me how I was doing. “I feel like I’m coming up”, I replied. I knew banging grams of MDMA in my youth would come in useful someday.
I felt an increase in adrenaline, restlessness, and euphoria. Like I was in a spacecraft preparing for take-off. It was happening. The best I could do was go with it. Surrender. There’s no use fighting the feeling. It can be scary knowing your mind and body are now at the mercy of a chemical compound. That’s why preparation and environment are so important.
Liftoff
I sat down beside the fire. I wasn’t sure what to expect. In my head, I thought a trip involved walking around talking with plants. Then I closed my eyes. The darkness I was familiar with had become fast-moving shapes. They changed form before I could make them out. I only remember a snake and a panther (I think). They were made out of glowing red lines as if intricately created by thousands of laser pens. It got too much so I opened my eyes. Jesus, I thought. I turned to the fire. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then the fire started to sink into the ground before returning to its original position. It looked like it was breathing. Okay, this is cool…
I laid down on the grass and closed my eyes again. This time a woman spoke to me. Only she wasn’t speaking to the Nick writing this post. She was speaking to the Nick from 20 odd years ago. Young Nick. My inner child I suppose. You might think I’d have been scared. I wasn’t in the slightest. She was so loving, so calming, so perfect. I loved her with all my heart (I still do). I thought she was my mum. She told me she wasn’t. I can only describe her as Mother Earth, la Madre Tierra, Pachamama. And she was going to guide me through this journey.
It gets hard to verbalise at this point, but I remember still feeling euphoric and in wonder at everything on this earth. I couldn’t stop smiling. She was easing me into this mystical experience. When I opened my eyes, I looked into the flames of the fire. I was overcome with a feeling of gratitude so intense I can’t put it into words. This fire was there, giving me warmth when I needed it without expectation. I loved it with my entire being. I was in its debt. How could I ever repay my fiery friend? You are SO cool I’d say as young Nick. THANK YOU!
Then the flames started to die down and I was filled with terrible sadness. My friend was dying. I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how. Tears started to run down my face. Then Pachamama guided my attention to the vegetable patch in the corner of the garden. The area I had a weird feeling about when I arrived. At that moment, I realised that nothing really dies. Life continues. Our bodies may die but it returns to the earth and is born again. I felt relief. My Mum dying was my greatest fear. Then I knew it wasn’t the end. Not the real end. There was something else. Suddenly, I liked that part of the garden.
Now content, I closed my eyes and laid down again. The feeling of love and gratitude for my (our) fire came back. That feeling extended into everything. I felt abundant gratitude and love. I said to Pachamama I love you as much as I love my fire. Then you love yourself that much, Nick, she replied. I am you, you are me, you are everything. You are perfect. Then I just knew then I needed to love myself more. So now I do.
The dialogue evolved with my thoughts. Sometimes I’d slip into negative thoughts and I’d feel sad. Somehow I’d be diverted away from them or open my eyes. When I looked up at the blue sky, the gaps between clouds were filled with geometric shapes. The colors of the trees and grass changed contrast and brightness like someone was choosing which Instagram filter to use. It was spectacular. It was magic.
It was uncomfortable
My thoughts diverged on a dark cloud in my mind. My body recoiled and I felt uncomfortable. I wanted to get out. I think I flailed with my arms to push it away. I’m not exactly sure what this thought or event in my life was. I only know it was something from my childhood. As the feeling intensified, I could feel Pachamama guiding me through the process. Then, somehow, the swirling ball of darkness was pushed out of my body. It was gone.
Pure relief swept through me. I started to cry. I was so thankful. I felt like a weight was taken from my shoulders. A burden I was carrying for a long long time. It was to do with my self-worth. I think I thought it was always me vs the world. That I had to go it alone and prove to people I didn’t need help. Pachamama showed me I was enough. That it’s okay to need help. And that if I love her – if I love my fire – then I love myself. This was a theme throughout the entire experience. It made so much sense to me now. Everything we’ve ever needed has come from our planet. And anything we’ll ever need will too. How beautiful.
I was past the peak of the experience now. I could get up and walk around. Ivaylo had brought me some fresh cacao and papaya. Man did that food taste good. I ate that papaya with more gratitude than every meal I’d ever eaten in my life combined. I never want to lose that feeling.
The mushrooms were still working and I still felt connected to Pachamama. She’d ask me if I was ready to work on myself some more. I didn’t have to but I wanted to. I went through another three rounds of understanding myself and the world. It was the most special experience of my life. As I started coming down, she let me know that she’s always with me. She’s always with everyone. Always with everything. This was so comforting to understand. We let go of each other from the hyper-connected state and I was 31 year old Nick again.
Ivaylo came out with some fresh lemonade. I had no idea how long I’d been gone but I was exhausted. He handed me the juice with a knowing smile. It was citrusy and thirst-quenching. Fuck me, I needed that. He made sure I was okay and told me the food was ready if I wanted it. “Is vegetable curry, okay?” He said. “It’s one of my favorites”, I replied. “I had a feeling about that”, he said.
The closing ceremony
We ate and chatted about the experience. About life. About our relationships with our fathers. Ivaylo listened and gave me his perspective. That was as important as the mushroom ceremony itself. He had insights about relationships and life that I’d not explored before. I knew I had beliefs I needed to work on. Limiting beliefs I wasn’t consciously aware of.
My last task was to write a love letter to myself. I think it summed up what I worked on over the last 4 hours. It was the perfect end to a perfect day. Or so I thought…
… I was on the way home in a taxi. I stared out of the right passenger window across those rolling green hills. The sun was setting behind a thick layering of clouds. The remaining light burst through the bottom clouds flowing like an elegant ballroom dress. The deepest yellows, reds, oranges, and purples scorched the twilight sky. I thought I was still hallucinating. It felt like one last gift from Mother Earth.
One week after the psilocybin mushroom ceremony
Now, a week later, and having processed the experience, I still feel immense gratitude for everything. The abundant love. The abundant compassion. It’s not dialed up to 11 as during the mushroom ceremony, but I can connect with it. I opened a door and there’s no going back. If anything, this was the beginning of my spiritual journey. My life has changed.
Nick
P.S. Drop me a message if you have any questions about the psilocybin mushroom experience, I’d love to help. And I’ll happily pass on Ivaylo’s details. Or you can contact him through his website: Colibri Garden.
P.P.S. If you think you might enjoy spiritually infused fantasy fiction, feel free to subscribe to my substack to read my first novel inspired by this journey.
