art of the Sanctuary - the stairs lead to the hammocks, with a view of the river

Of course, I now know better. It was just what I needed, like every other night. Despite the incredible pain during those hours spent with Don Mariano, I thank him with all my heart for shifting me out of the mind of a victim.

So, I was ready for his return. As much as I could be.

When it was time for the ceremony to begin, Don Mariano was nowhere in sight. Don Rober, our trusted previous guru, appeared in ceremonial garb and began his blessings. This was abnormal, but not completely shocking – we were told he would be on “spiritual security watch”, so perhaps he was getting things started. My heart wouldn’t accept that maybe, just maybe, he would be the one and only guide. It was too much to wish for.

Yet when I saw him blessing his Ayahuasca bottles, I knew that was precisely what was happening. For whatever reason, the guest had not arrived. I felt both elated and a bit disappointed. I felt so attached to Don Rober, yet I was ready to face down a few fears/demons. But of course, I could still get my wish – it was just the guide who had changed. So I allowed my heart to surge, and felt happier than seemed humanly possible.

Quite often, the first and last doses of a cycle are the most mild and fuzzy. I can’t say this was my expectation, but that fact did linger in my mind. Yet as the brew came on with a vengeance, and I saw windshield wipers appear and wipe out the voices in my mind as a hand pushed me deep inside the earth’s core – well, I knew I wasn’t getting off easy. Not that I wanted to.

I could easily call this night the most intense experience of my life. I fell back into my body from time to time, fearful that perhaps I was seriously ill. Night sweats, severe and thunderous shaking, and many feverish surges ripped through my body. I kept doing my best to ignore this response, unsure if it was real or just another mind trick. Either way, I needed to listen.

Thousands of dark images whisked around before my eyes. There were hundreds of faces; mostly tribal, and many were very young. They would look innocent and lovely, then abruptly merge into maniacs with razored teeth and dripping blood. Claws reached out for my senses, bats dove in to devour me, and other spiritual demons beckoned for me to follow.

I watched with intense curiosity, but yet felt completely emotionless. At some point, I realized I was being tested. Would I feel fearful? Enticed? Angry?
No, on all accounts. I watched them with compassion. I knew I was evolving.

My thoughts then shifted to the other people in the room. For the millionth time, I marveled at each and every person’s strength and beauty. I sent myself to where they sat, one by one, and listed the unique traits they held that made them so remarkable. And I felt their love in return. Such an amazing, dynamic, powerful group – full of light and love.

- Yet, they’re all demons too.

I nodded at the Spirit’s observation.

- Yes, of course – we are good and evil intertwined. There is no real distinction.

She showed me real-life evil-doers like Cheney and Bush, and I ran to them with love. Whomever she placed before me, I hugged with tenacity. And sincerity. I saw myself – each and every vision was a mirror.

There was no place for judgment or superiority. Only recognition and love. I felt myself swell from the profundity, but she told me not to ponder what it all meant. Only to feel. Feelings are far more trustworthy – the mind is just a bag of tricks.

It took me eons to purge, and that kept drawing me out of the experience. Not everyone purges all of the time, but I had yet to have a ceremony without at least one meager release. I held extreme pain in my belly, but I kept smiling at the acidic protests and rubbing the area with a loving smile.

- What are you resisting?

I thought about this repeatedly. I had no answer. Many times, I wanted to cry from helplessness.

Then the visions would return and take me away. This night, there were SO many sounds – eruptions I knew were just for me. Techno sounding effects resounded from all corners of the maloka, and it soothed me. The animals sang in a cacaphonous symphony, along with the crickets and snakes, and I found it heavenly. All these cosmic distractions, keeping me from feeling the pain.

Christ, that was the point, wasn’t it? I bolted up in my chair to find a little clarity.

- Yes, that’s it -
I spoke to the Spirit.

- Pain is just perception too.
I remember all of these sounds from previous ceremonies – they drove me mad. I hated the intensity. I feared every last echo.
But not anymore.
I don’t have to experience pain if I don’t want to. I can always rise above.

Two motherly hands came and cupped my cheeks in support.

- Of course, child. Pain is inevitable, but you decide it’s power.

She pulled me forward and rubbed my back. A few minutes later, I had a hard, magnificent purge. I imagined the pain as a glowing orb, pushed out through my intestines and through my open mouth. When I sat up, I felt nonexistent. My body had disappeared. I was just light, just energy – feeling only joy. I have no words to describe such weightlessness; I can only say that I know what it is to die – and to return to the place from which we all came from. Absolute and utter bliss.

I cried oceans as the ceremony drew to an end; I didn’t want to stop this process. I didn’t want to say goodbye. But I smiled through my outbursts, so absolutely joyous that I discovered this path. Oh so very … blessed.

The next morning, we received our final flower bath. As you awake after a ceremony at this lodge, the Shaman lingers near a special little structure, with a plastic chair and a massive tub of ice cold, rosey smelling water littered with flower pedals. When you’re ready, you visit him in private, and he douses every single body part with this magnificent elixir. It’s a way of shocking you back into your body, of sealing up the experience. He sings you a final healing blessing, and it feels like a real ending – in the best possible way.

That morning, I cried and heaved as Don Rober sang to me, then I clutched him and said, in rough Spanish, that I loved him always. He would forever be in my heart. He said the same to me. We hugged repeatedly, gave sweet kisses, and he cried with me. That’s the kind of angel he is. We both are.

I left knowing I was ready to face whatever awaited. I even hoped it would be insanely challenging – because I could take it. I didn’t want an easy road; I had done too much to build myself up.

The next day, we were all to leave on part 2 of the adventure – a leg called the Journey Through Time. We would retrace 2 ancient Andean civilizations, partake in 4 Huachuma ceremonies (another uber-powerful sacred plant) and visit the most sacred places in Peru – and the world.

More stories to come, loves – vastly different, and yet so much the same.