The Second Ceremony
At the start of the second ceremony, the shaman asked each one of us about the experience of the first one and expectations for the next one. I told him about the affirmation and that I was open to what’d come up in the night. Now, I knew what to expect and intended to have the second cup this time.
After the first purge, I felt entities in the room, not spooky ones. I squinted to see if there was someone else actually in the room and questioned why I felt them. “You called us.”, a voice responded. I did call them. “What do you want!?”, the voice pressed at me. “I don’t know.”, frankly I replied. Then they disappeared from my head. Man, bloody cliffhanger! To get that out of my mind, I went outside.
The thunderstorm in the afternoon chilled down the night. The clouds painted the sky vividly above the city lights in the valley. Some moments fog took over and covered all the area. Such a spectacular show of nature! Again, I didn’t think it was a hallucination. The eyes surely got more receptive and delayed, creating light trails from the city below, like a long exposure photograph.
After the second cup and the purge a few hours later, I stayed inside most of the time, on the couch under a blanket while the band was playing music. Lesson from the previous night and lack of rest told me to take it easy and let thoughts run through my head. Some were internal noises and some were options that sat in the back of my head. Then some clarities emerged. How could I contribute more to the world? Stuff like that. That’d be a long road ahead to pursue them, for sure. A roadmap would be essential.
One task was to check in with the traumatised boy who caged himself in his room—an analogy I made up to deal with my relationship with depression. The door was unlocked a long time ago but it was up to him to come out. I wonder where he would be and would love to take him with me on the next journey.
As dawn arrived, we hugged goodbye to the shaman and the band. A fainted rainbow briefly appeared to wrap up our ceremonies. And I was able to get a bit of decent sleep.
Before leaving the place, I needed to pay homage to the unprecedented personal totem of my first ayahuasca trip—the gum trees. They reminded me of the toughest time in my adult life and the rewards when I got through it. I hugged one of them after the last circle chat. “You’ll be alright, mate! Go!.”, I surrendered to their massage and sobbed.
The Integration (Post-Retreat)
Back in Medellín’s tourist district, I booked a massage to calibrate myself to the real world. As obliged, the second survey was filled in within 24 hours. And I will do the final questionnaires four weeks after the retreat. Later in the evening, passing by clubs in the hotel area, the state of mind was 180 degrees from the wild night I had before the retreat.
On the way back to Bogotá, all I could think of was how those ayahuasca ceremonies worked. To me, DMT from the plant wouldn’t be effective without other collateral elements. To say the least: the mesmerising landscape, the accommodating team who runs the facilities (including a medical doctor there), the caring shaman, the blissful tunes from the musicians, and the openness of other fellow guests. Above all, it was a safe environment for the participants to work on their intentions.
In my case, it started from just curiosity. The trip took me to a deep self-dialogue that lit some of my life paths. As much as I tried to articulate the experiences of the three nights, some synchronicities were also apparent, I found: the gum trees, the rainbow, and connections with other participants.
Nonetheless, I don’t think it’s a magic potion that will miraculously solve your life problems. You’re going to have to do the homework yourself. Mine will be loads of them. This blog post is part of the integration. Fairly, I shed more tears writing this than at the ceremonies. It concludes my first ayahuasca experience. But in my head, it’s just the beginning of a long journey ahead.
