You can read Part One and Part Two here.

That night we opened the dieta. I drank a fresh cup of Bobinsana about an hour before the ceremony. It had pungent a smoked-bacon flavour to it, though certainly preferable to the rancid bitterness of Ayahuasca. The ceremony came on quick and strong. I was surprised at how Arquelis and Maria began to sing almost immediately after drinking – where as traditionally I had experienced an hour of silence in-between.

Before the medicine had even been able to set in, there was a loud crash and bang which scared the shit out of me. It was the small tin roof collapsing over the kitchen, for no apparent reason. It pushed a wave of fear through me too suddenly and I felt like a timid little creature, too vulnerable for the outside world. Maria was sitting with me beneath my mosquito net, but her voice was sharp and scary to me in that state. I wanted space from her so I moved to the other end of my bed and curled up in the fetal position.

The medicine was strong and my emotional state became quickly amplified and disorientated. One half of me was in turmoil experiencing the discomfort of sad emotions and physical pain triggered by memories of other incarnations. The other half of me was in ecstasy seeing brilliant visions of me, claiming my full potential, though I found this beauty too intense to stare it straight in the eyes. It was simply too confronting to realize how great I could be, yet how much work I had to do to get there. So I meandered between states, unsure of what to make of the situation.

As I dipped into an emotional underworld of sadness, grief and suppression, I heard Arquelis reminding me that it was okay to just focus on the beauty. In any given reality there is light and dark forces at work. The darkness works hard to get our attention; to entrance us with the belief that it has more to offer than the light. The mystery reveals itself when we realize that each force is of equal value as they are rooted in the same source.

Often I have found myself undervaluing the light because I perceive it to be too easy, too beautiful and too obvious etc. As a result, I remember being confused with my initial Ayahuasca experiences during my first trip to Peru. After all, I had heard Mama Aya had a gift for conjuring up visions of ones personal hell, and I figured it was by confronting this darkness that the real work was done. “Bring it on” I begged her, yet the majority of my experiences have been all too beautiful. That is why, to Arquelis’ mild confusion, I allowed myself to indulge in the dark side of my visions.

Eventually enough was enough though. I saw his point. My personal growth was to learn to let go of this pain, by turning my attention to the beauty that was being presented to me. This is the alchemy of our existence. To realize that in any situation, there are both light and dark forces at work and that that which we give our attention to is what becomes real.

For the following five days, we all became noctournal creatures, drinking Ayahuasca at nightfall and fighting our own personal demons until dawn. Looking back, its hard to separate ceremony from ceremony as they all melt into one another.

The days also took on a dreamlike aesthetic as the diet and lack of sleep weakend our bodies to allow the plants to take up residence within us. We’d sleep intermittently throughout the day, lazing around in our hammocks. We’d bathe in the river around midday and have a main meal of fish, roasted plantains and quinoa around two or three in the afternoon. Yep, while I am mostly vegan, I found Bobinsana – the winged, zombi-mermaid goddess that she is, to have an insatiable hunger for fish. Honestly, the fish was so fresh and tasty despite the lack of seasoning. Other than that, most of the day would be in silent contemplation.

In the early hours of the morning, when all the hard internal work was done, I’d stay up whispering to Aster between our mosquito nets, full, satisfied, and in love with life. I was blissed to my bones, reflecting on my life experiences, as most ceremonies ended with comforting visions of all the beauty I had been blessed with in this lifetime – the people, the places, the joy, the love. Though these seemed such distant memories – far away from the present reality – it reminded me of why I was here. We’d share our visions and experiences, hopes and dreams for the future, occasionally indulging in our dirtiest food fantasies (several days of a bland monodiet can really give you a guilty apetite). Aster was also an incredible musician player and in our heightened state, my favourite thing would be to listen to him play and sing his inspired songs off the cuff.

I remember one night after ceremony, watching the sky with him. There was some strange lightning and noises going off in the distance – a very curious sight, like nothing I had seen in the sky before. We mused that it was aliens and playfully discussed common alien conspiracy theories. I love a good story after all and enjoyed hearing Aster’s own conscious conclusions.

Within the hour a forceful storm was upon us and it made me giddy with excitement. I remembered storms this epic as a child, how I loved to hide under the blankets listening to the rain and hail crash down onto the roof. Everything was blowing in the wild winds. We had to hold on tightly to our belongings – even our sleeping mats beneath us. While everyone else sought cover from the storm, I felt a strong desire to meditate in the midst of it. To me, this was a divine gift and I was very much enjoying the experience. Alas, it came and went too soon.

On about day four, after a rough night of ceremony, I found myself recapitulating on my whole life. Where in the past, this had been a daunting task, I found it effortless and healing. It was as if my brain had been re-wired with such clarity. I could see how the events of my past were interconnected and how they had shaped me to be who I was today. I could identify my beliefs and fears so clearly.

Inside my head, I was speaking directly to Bobinsana and she was helping me to make the connections I needed to understand myself on a whole new level. This brought me great peace and gratitude. I remember sitting by the river, recapitulating with her, feeling things I had not, until then, allowed myself to feel. While I felt pain, hurt, fear, frustration and anger, I was grateful for this opportunity to process these emotions in a healthy and timely manner. Where in the past I hadn’t really understood how to let these emotions flow through me, here, my blood had cooled and I was able to approach my traumas from a higher perspective, with appreciation for the gifts of growth that were handed to me in the face of adversity.

Part Four coming soon.

We interrupt the Ayahuasca Experience to bring you a very simple, but important message:

The more you say no to what you don’t want in life,

The more the universe says yes to what you do want.

Don’t buy into the fear that you can’t have what you are dreaming of.

You are worthy, no matter the extravagance of your desires.

Just believe that anything is possible and work with a gentle intention.

This is where it pays to be gullible.

It came up in a discussion with a friend recently, where I examined how in school, we would laugh at one another for being “gullible” – calling one another naive and stupid. But I sense that this is really just a program put in place to set limits upon our reality. I say be gullible. If you want to let magic into your life, you can’t be afraid of appearing a fool. Anything can happen but you have to first allow the possibility to exist in your mind. Fantasise and familiarise yourself with your dreams. Know there is very little difference between your imagination, reality and the dream world. Use this knowledge to your advantage. There are always exceptions to rules, and that exception can be you. All you need to do is believe that what you want is possible and that you deserve it.

Now go, play, create. That is your life purpose after all, and remember: you’re making this all up.

You can read Part One here.

I had my heart set on working with a curandera (female shaman) from the beginning, but they seemed to be hard to find these days. Nevertheless Aster and I went hunting. After meeting with two or three, we invited Maria to join us on our journey with Aquellis, thinking it would bring balance to the masculine and feminine energies of the dieta.

Maria is a strong jungle woman. She stands about 5ft tall yet has a jaguar edge to her that is not to be reckoned with. More than once Aster and I were astounded by her seemingly superhuman strength as we watched her carry huge buckets of water from the river to our campsite, obediently balanced on her head without the aid of her arms.

Originally we set out to a shipibo community south of Pucallpa, taking a three hour car ride along the narrow winding dirt roads into the jungle. There were five of us crammed in the tiny car together: the driver, Aquellis, Maria, Aster and I. We stopped to get some food along the way and I cringed to see Arquellis carelessly toss his plastic rubbish out the window as we drove on. Here is a man who shares a very deep connection with the plants, yet is so oblivious to the impact of his waste. Sadly this is a common theme throughout the third world.

When we arrived the sun was beating down strong. Upon leaving the car we walked into the chakras for about half an hour before coming upon a clearing. This would be our home for the next few weeks.

It was a humble abode; a simple thatched roof (no walls) over a dirt floor with chickens and dogs roaming free. Just outside the “hut” was an open fire and to the right of that was a simple wooden bench supporting two big buckets of river water. This was our kitchen.

Take a short walk down yonder and you would meet the river, which was abundant with fish. This was where we bathed daily, taking care not to disturb the sting rays or Yacamama (a giant water anaconda – the guardian of the river). Alternatively, behind the clearing there was also a lake, covered with pretty lillys but we were told this was also home to caiman crocodiles.

I remember feeling anxious when I first arrived, shocked at the simplicity of the situation, to think that this would be my home for the next three weeks. I calmed my self promising that I would get through so long as I took things second by second. Besides, I’d lived in simpler situations before, camping in the wild. I guess what really struck me was the fact that this was how these people really lived every second of their life. They didn’t have a fancy house to go home to when shit got too real. This was it.

We strung up our hammocks and set up our beds beneath mosquito nets, taking refuge as dusk claimed the day. For after dark, it was near impossible to find peace from the biting bugs outside.

The following day we rose early to collect the Bobinsana needed for my dieta. It was a three-hour boat ride upstream. Note: this “boat” was essentially a precariously balanced canoe with a motor tacked onto the end of it. There was no shade and the sun was hot. Both Aster and I got a little burnt with our white gringo skin, but other than that, it was an enjoyable ride as we sat in the hull eating watermelon and papaya.

Eventually we came upon a beautiful old Bobinsana tree, rooted by the river’s edge. Together we harvested roots, leaves and bark. The roots and bark were later boiled for hours, reduced into a thick, pungent tea. I drank this morning and night for the duration of the dieta.

On the way back we stopped at a little beach for a swim and Arquillies cast his net, reeling in over a dozen fresh fish with each throw. The fish were then gathered in the hull to be scaled and filleted by Nei, a seven year old local boy.

On the way back we got into a discussion with Aquellis about spirit guides and Ayahuasca visions. Aquellis spoke of his own spirit guide taking the form of a brilliant white Pegasus. He asked me about mine and when I told him I hadn’t quite found one yet, he asked me what I would like. I laughed at the idea of being able to shop for such strange and mystical creatures, but  thought about this playfully for a moment and envisioned a tiger with the rainbow wings of a macaw parrot. “I’ve always had a connection with Tigers… but I also have a thing with birds and want to fly…then again, maybe I just want the rainbow wings,” I confided. “I’ve never seen one of them,” said Aquellis. Aster and I laughed about this, but Aquellis was serious. “Very well, I will find this for you…” he said, looking pensive.

The next day he came to me with the excitement of a child on Christmas day. He was holding a special vine he had collected during his morning walk. “This, will give you wings,” he told me. It was a “bat wing” plant (though I can no longer remember its native name). He showed me how beneath the little wing-like leaves were little claws, like that of bats.  By afternoon he had made it into a thick ointment to be rubbed onto my back before our Ayahuasca ceremony. “If we do this 3-5 times, you will have wings by the end of the week.” I was open to his mad train of thought, so I gave it a go.

Read on, Part Three Here…

I’ve been thinking a lot about the wisdom of trees lately. My experiences in working with Ayahuasca only confirmed my long-time suspicion that within each plant lies a sentient being.

To me, they represent one of the purest states of consciousness, remaining so still and open energetically, as if in a constant state of zen meditation.

In a previous post I used the metaphor of an apple tree as being the epitome of unconditional love. It bears it’s fruit so generously without expectation or concern for who or how it is consumed.

Recently I was standing at the edge of a forest, admiring nature’s wild beauty when four colourful parrots flew over my head and landed in a nearby tree. They were gorgeous creatures of red and blue feathers and I considered how cool it would be to have them come to me. I stood there meditating, connecting with them for a few moments, setting my intention. When the time was right, they flew toward me, but all I could do was flinch, duck and laugh at myself.

I can only begin to imagine what it would be like to be as energetically open as a tree.

One of the many lessons nature has taught me along my journey is that one of the keys to life is to make others feel welcome – particularly through sharing.

Tarot talks about the wisdom of being the fool – to be open and open and still open to life, no matter the potential for pain and suffering. This allows one to maintain the innocence and fearless enchantment of a child.

In my mind, trees demonstrate this beautifully as the forest shares everything – it is open and open and still open like a fool. Friend or foe, a plant does not show any fear – whether its approached by a tree-hugging hippy, or a ferocious chainsaw. It stands before both, radiating isness as if to say simply: “I am, until I am not.”

At times we might fear the dangers of the outside world, but despite it all, trees stand strong and tend to live long. Their resilience to the fear mentality that imbues our human condition inspires me, reminding me of the world I knew in my younger days, where fear was no thing and the possibilities of what I could do and create with my life were limitless.

…

A friend of mine once pointed out to me, “you know all they want is your appreciation” and so I make a point to give it to them. They give us so much after all – food, shade, oxygen, and if you are willing to listen (as they whisper ever so softly) wisdom.

In many ways life is just one big Ayahuasca ceremony – full of teachers and friends, confrontation and contrast, beauty and ugliness, fear and love, pleasure and pain.

A common saying in the Aya world is:

“Ayahuasca might not give you what you want, but she will always give you what you need”

I feel like this works just as well when we look at Life’s, often mysterious, unfolding.

These words remind us to let go of how we think things should be and surrender and explore ourselves based on what Life is offering us.

Often, it is at the point of surrender that we find ourselves pleasantly surprised. Otherwise we’re just swimming upstream, desperately attempting to cling to things as we fear the uncertainty that awaits. It’s exhausting, so I think I’d much rather let go and enjoy the ride.

But I have been learning and thinking a lot about what it means to “surrender” lately…

Firstly, that it’s not about doing nothing and just expecting life to take you somewhere nice. Nope. You do need to have some kind of clarity about what you wish to experience in life.

The art of surrender is to get good at making decisions and taking responsibility for the who, what and why of you, while letting go of the need to control the when, where and how.

Learn to do this comfortably, and you’ll find that Life is pretty good at orchestrating the latter for you.  And if you can just let go of your expectations of how you think things should be, you’ll find yourself laughing more and suffering less.

Secondly, it’s about opening your eyes and learning to recognize and interpret the messages and opportunities that surround us in every moment.

There’s an old joke about a man stuck in the rapids of a rushing river.

Arms flailing in a desperate attempt to keep his head above the water, he prays to God “please save me”.

Seconds later a log floats by. The man continues to thrash and pray. He sees the log, but decides not to grab a hold, trusting that God will save him.

Moments later, a boat comes by and invites him to jump aboard, but the man refuses any help, adamant that God will save him.

Just as the man begins to lose his energy, a hot babe rides by on a jetski and pulls up alongside inviting him to jump on. The man refuses stating “No thank you, I know God will save me.”

Eventually the man drowns and when he arrives in heaven, he asked God, annoyed, “Why didn’t you come and save me?”

“What do you mean?” God replies. “I sent you a log, a boat and a babe on a jetski!”

Q: Who am I?

A: Who cares?

‘Tell me about your experiences with Ayahuasca,’ I asked John, a volunteer at the temple.

‘Well, I guess the one that stands out in my mind today is when I met Pain.’

‘Tell me more,’ I encouraged.

‘Well, I was in ceremony when I saw a small, black figure looking rather downtrodden. He was about three feet tall, and shaped like a long, upright egg, with short legs and equally short arms that stuck out like little t-rex arms. He was really cute and I felt bad for him because he was clearly so sad – he had the look about him like a child that was left out on the playground.

I asked him what was the matter. He told me who he was. It turns out that he was this amazing teacher with so much to give and all he wanted to do was share his teachings with the world, but no one would listen to him – they would all just run away.

I told him we could be friends. “Can I come and visit you sometime?” Pain asks before I leave.
“Sure, anytime” I say without thinking, and then back tracked a little…”Well maybe not anyway time, but you can definitely come and visit again!”
I mean, he’s cute and all, but I’m not sure I want Pain in my life too often…’

Perhaps the biggest thing that Ayahuasca has taught me is that I am okay – no matter what I do. No matter who I choose to be.

And a big part of my first ceremony was focused on confronting this fear that I am not enough or that I might not live this life well enough.

Lying in the darkness, unsure of what to expect, I felt overwhelmed with anxiety. I desperately wanted someone to tell me what was happening; what I should do and that I was okay. But as I battled with my fear and confusion, I realized that in life there will never (and should never) be anyone around to tell you what to do or that you are good, bad or okay.

Instead, we must learn to trust ourselves and make our own decisions wholeheartedly.

If we can accept this, we accept life’s offer to explore this universe fully and experience expansion through our choices, whatever they may be.

Rattle me, and my
Xylophone bones
It’s cold outside
All alone

Grandmother, Grandmother
Ancient and old
Tell me a story
Show me your soul…

The Amazon calls
A home with no walls
And now I can feel you
My creator, my maker

The purest desire
To touch with my hands
To play with the darkness
Experience contrast

So this is the joy
This is the answer
Consciously seeking
What my heart aches for.

So teach me to love
Teach me to care
Teach me to let go
Of the scars that I bear

What is it to feel?
To care what is real?
To be having these thoughts now
Unaware of their meaning

The vine of the soul
Taking me home
Embracing uncertainty,
I’m letting my guard down.

And I understand now
As you pour salt on my wounds
It stings like a snake bite,
Lying here breathing

But I am alive
In my own lucid dream
Passion like thunder
Alpha / Omega

Its time to evolve,
Live life and grow old
A thousand little deaths now
This is what I live for…

I’m aware of this life
I don’t live to survive
But because I want to
No longer an orphan

And with new awareness
Accepting the madness
I’m choosing to play now
This moment is mine.

Forget and remember
This is never ending
My truth is simple:
I am still breathing.

And it comes and It goes
It ebbs and it flows
The transitory nature
Of a life fully lived.

Going through my notes from the temple, I was struck with a deeper understanding of the fear I was confronted with during my first Ayahuasca ceremony. I remember the profound déjà vu, and how I was disappointed with the realization that I was all there is. I felt alone despite all of the parts of me that I had created on this earth in order to address this sadness.

I felt my loneliness echoing around me, bouncing off the harsh truth of what it means to be absolutely everything; the reality that illusions are, at the end of the day, just illusions. This was the birth of the purest desire to create separation, others, playmates, a distraction from this lonely hell. And while we, The Source enjoy our self as we exert our creativity in the formation of this universe, there is still loneliness at the end of the day.

We, God, are an island, surrounded by no-thing-ness; a blank canvas for creation. An orphan.

Alone we play all the parts, creating the illusions of others, orchestrating the story of humanity like a child creates their own world as they play with their dolls, producing a range of characters and drama. And we are addicted to this insignificant game of life, the amusement it provides and the satisfaction we get from experiencing the spectrum of all life has to offer.

At this realisation, I laughed at myself for wanting or expecting to ‘get somewhere’ or to attain enlightenment through rigorous spiritual practice, because in this omnipresent state it was clear to me that living as a human was much more exciting than the world beyond. [I note that there are some very beautiful places to visit beyond ‘reality’ and that spiritual practice can be very fulfilling when done from a place of enjoyment rather than duty, guilt or obligation, however, it is our human perspective and the contrast of our earthly lives that makes these other worlds so alluring in the first place.]

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* I use the word God here as spiritual shorthand to describe life, love, the source, the universe, existence, the soul or whatever else you believe in.