Journey of Simon

In this post, I briefly mention the PTSD that I developed after my first three Ayahuasca ceremonies in Peru earlier in the year at a retreat centre run by an American Ayahuascero with 20 years experience serving the brew. I’ve heard through others that he was mixing Ayahuasca with other plants, including Toé but I’ve never had actual proof of this. The experience left me severely traumatised and not wanting to live anymore, my father talking me down from a suicidal mindset on a handful of occasions. I was in a state where my addictions were grossly heightened, I was questioning my sexual orientation and there were very few days where I wasn’t deep in depression, terror and despair. I’d come to Ayahuasca for healing, and came out far far worse than before.  I am eternally grateful to my ex-girlfriend and her family, my amazing friends and father who went beyond all normal means to look after me during a period where I could have easily been diagnosed with drug-induced psychosis. I was convinced I was under attack by evil spirits, I couldn’t sleep and I would spend hours in the shower just crying and dry wretching through fear,  just wishing my life would end. I tried to take anti-depressants prescribed by a doctor but it seemed to make me more unstable. Yoga and Meditation provided some temporary relief but I’d almost instantly drop back into my own personal Hell. I couldn’t get out, and so with what felt like extremely limited options, I took the hard decision to return to Ayahuasca. Something inside was still calling me back to the medicine even after the damage that had been done at the previous retreat. After some back and forth (and a few synchronicities), I booked a 12-day retreat at the Temple of the Way of Light. I chose this centre for its excellent reputation for a safe healing environment.

I will revisit and document those first three ceremonies at another retreat centre that caused my PTSD on this blog in a later post.

As this was the first ceremony of a seven ceremony retreat, it was being used by the Shamans as a night for ‘diagnosis’ so we would only initially be drinking a small cup of Ayahuasca. We had five Shipibio healers, two male Maestros and three female Maestras. From the moment I was first introduced to the Shamans, I could tell they were special people. They emanated so much light and love, were jovial in their actions and appearance, and very little phased them and they appeared to be in such peace.

Coming back into the ritualistic setting of drinking Ayahuasca, I entered into this first ceremony with intense dread and terror as I sat down to drink the medicine. The two facilitators; one male and one female were sat either side of me. Their job is to guide you through the entire process, provide support during ceremonies, and translate for the Shipibo healers. One of the female Maestras sat directly opposite me ready to pour the brew into a small cup. The male facilitator, Jason, said to me “Simon. I’ve witnessed what you’ve experienced before at other retreat centres but never at the Temple, you are safe here”. I closed my eyes, prayed for protection and as my hands trembled, I drank. The bitter foul tasting brew of the Ayahuasca suddenly brought me back to the very real process that was about to unfold. The medicine would try to take me to an altered state of consciousness whilst my ego would battle it all costs so that I could try to remain ‘sane’ and keep the illusion that if I control my life and all aspects of it, I’ll be safe. I went back to my mat, smoked a mapacho (Nicotiana rustica – wild tobacco) and just lay there trying to mindfully breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth as best I could. All the while the intense anxiety in my body forcing me to constantly fidget and pull at my hair but using all of my will to not drop into a panic attack.

Then the first ikaro began. I struggle to find the appropriate words (which I will say many times in relaying my experience of working with Ayahuasca) that describe the beauty of that first ceremonial healing song. One Maestro voice started, and then the second Maestros voice came in to accompany him. Then the female Maestras began to sing as well. It was like an otherworldy acapella, three different ikaros sang in perfect harmony with each other, not the same words but perfectly un-synchronous. In that moment, a profound feeling of safety came over me, something I haven’t felt for the last six months and I began to feel the love from these amazing curanderos, I think I even cried a few tears. It is possibly the most beautiful song I have ever heard in my life. The tears came due to it being such a stark contrast from the ‘Ayahuascero’ from my previous retreat, whose ikaros always seemed dark and never seemed to have any kind of light and love.

As the Ayahuasca was beginning to take effect, an intense tingling came over my body. Tingling probably isn’t the right word, it’s more like an intense vibration. I’m very in-tune with when the medicine is working in my body, I can feel buzzing in my stomach that correlates when I have visions, I feel as if it’s wrapping itself around negative emotions trying to dislodge them. I try to sit with the feelings, sit with the fear, and I start to lose mobility in my fingers. I also remember this feeling, the loss of mobility in the hands is something that I’d experienced in my second ceremony. I’m apprehensively anticipating what is going to happen next; am I going to shoot out of my body? Will I see Mother Ayahuasca again? Will I see demons? My mind is creating more and more fear in a constant loop as the vibrations intensify.

I’ll find it very hard in these posts to describe the concept of time within ceremony – what often feels like five minutes, has actually been hours. What was clear was that I was vibrating and battling with my fear for hours. Even though I had come back to Ayahuasca for healing, I was scared to close my eyelids for fear of visions coming in, my own fear not allowing me to surrender and to go deeper. One of the Maestras was singing a personal healing ikaro to someone two mats down from me, and as I concentrated on the singing, I was suddenly taken back into to all-consuming dark terror. My memory started to return to me, this is what I experienced in ceremony three at the previous retreat, the thing I’ve tried to forget for the last six months. The fear is far beyond my normal waking consciousness fear. I tend to call this deep terror, this victimising state of mind and despair as my own ‘existential fear’. It’s something that has been buried for years lurking in my subconscious rearing its ugly head and affecting my life when triggered by seemingly minor events. In my normal life, it shows itself at any hint of rejection or confrontation (physical or verbal) or even being alone. Possibly, it has its roots in childhood abandonment and shame issues. They say Ayahuasca is a mirror and in ceremony, that existential fear is heightened to such a level that I am begging it to take my life I will do anything for it to end screaming, crying, and finally curling up in the fetal position. It is relentless.

An analogy I’ve used previously to compare this dark, terrifying state is that its as if being locked in an airport, and you know there is a terrorist attack and a gunman on the loose. You know running is futile as the airport is locked and there is no escape it’s only a matter of time before you are killed. The only difference in my experience with Ayahuasca (and it took me six months to realise this) is that the horrifying existential fear that is hunting me is within my own head.

Deep in this experience, my ego clings to whatever destructive thought it can. I keep repeating in my head “I shouldn’t be here. This is the Devil’s work. They are sucking out my Soul”.

The Maestra finally reaches my mat to sing my personal healing ikaro. I feel my stomach shift, I reach for my purge bucket and start to be vomit. By the time she has finished singing, the wave of darkness has passed. I’m back to the normal waking conscious state where nothing appears to have changed. I’m still fearful, still haunted by the PTSD but I’m so grateful that I’m no longer in the throes of that altered-consciousness existential fear.

I breathe deeply and try to summon enough courage to close my eyes and allow Ayahuasca to show me anything it needs to. I start to get some very faint but weird visions, I see spiders scuttling across my eyelids (something that will become common and appear many times over future ceremonies) and I see some weird gorilla head crossed with an alien. Looked malevolent but it was only momentary and that was about it for the first night for me. The maloka seemed to be quiet now, everyone’s trips appeared to have ended. I turned over on my mattress and tried to sleep but didn’t get very much, I was still feeling severe anxiety, shaking with fear and wondering that if this was just a mild night, how I was ever going to get through six more ceremonies of this.

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The following day we each had an individual physical consultation with the healers and the facilitators were on hand to help translate. I initially discussed my skin condition, Vitiligo and was prescribed a mix of plant remedies to assist in the healing process of an autoimmune condition. Post-retreat, I’ve yet to see any improvement, and the condition appeared new to the healers so I’m unsure of its commonality in South America. It definitely doesn’t feel like it’s as common as it is in Europe, US or India. We also discussed that for the last two years I’ve been struggling to heal plantar fasciitis (intense heel pain) in my left foot from playing football five times a week. I was prescribed a massage every two days by one of the healers with the pulp of ginger, presumably to generate heat in that area of my foot to loosen it up.

Before the close of the physical consultation, Jason, one of the facilitators translated to the healers that I was still in pretty intense fear and anxiety. One of the healers looked confused and pointed over to the exact location of my mat to confirm if I was the person that was sat there during ceremony the night before. The facilitator checked his laminated ‘map’ with our names and mat placement and confirmed it was me. The Maestra was confused because she had entered my physic space during the event and cleared that dark energy that was on me with her ikaro. I couldn’t really believe what I’d just witnessed and I felt a lot of scepticism leave me. Out of 23 people in the room and a six-hour ceremony where she had sung to each individual twice, had she actually remembered that single ikaro where she cleared that energy in my being?

I know the very real possibility that I could be romanticising that conversation, but in the moment it felt very real and genuine. The Maestra would not have been able to see my face in the pitch black mid-ceremony (hence why she pointed out my mat to check if that was me) but I can only assume she was able to still see my energetic pattern.

I began to see and believe the power that these shamans had. During the day they were kind, warm, jovial and loving people by night they entered this warrior state of being and unmovable in their work to heal people.

Jason turned to me and said, “Simon, there is still more energy to clear but ultimately that fear is going to be from that fact you will have to face your own death in ceremony, we’ll talk more later.”

Jason went on to tell me that for the second ceremony the healers have asked me to take an even smaller dose from the first nights ‘diagnosis’ dose. I was told that they were still trying to clear the energy of the American Ayahuascero from the previous retreat as they could still see it on me.

Brilliant… On to the next ceremony.