A mindful traveller, perpetual wanderer, part time meditator and newbie blogger

Ayahuasca Ceremony – The beginning….

This blog so far has been pretty positive. However, in the midst of the positivity are depths of pain and sadness I never knew one could feel. Generally I would describe my thoughts, emotions and feelings the last eight months as being ‘positively sad’. I have been sad, but had hope that the dark night I am enduring will inevitably end with a beautiful dawning. Here’s an insight into one way I have tried breaking through these waves of pain.

So, on New Years day, we arrive at a table of four regular looking people unsure who was going to be the shaman to offer us Ayahuasca; a hallucinogenic drug widely known and used in South America’s Amazon for it’s healing properties. Which one offers this ceremony of deep cleansing? He doesn’t look like a shaman. She doesn’t look like a shaman. Weird. I guess, having never met a shaman, i’m not exactly sure of what I was looking for. But, this guy did not meet the image in my head. We started talking. Me and Adam become engrossed in him. We wanted to know about him, about the ceremony, about the medicine. Simultaneously, the shaman was focused on delving deep into the heart, mind and soul of myself and Adam.

Being fairly sceptical about fluffy’ness (although this scepticism is slowly fading), he started losing me when he was talking about a multiple number of dimensions and realms and demons and erm…. 

Yeah… my mind had wandered elsewhere. Somewhere. I don’t know.

Then, something turned. I let on briefly about the motivations behind me beginning this spiritual path I was undertaking and, once I had done that, he seemed to know my emotions, specifically the pain and hurt, inside and out. I began by describing my story, strangely unable to hold back the tears, the energy was different and the tears flowed, the breathing turned heavy, Adam held my hand but assertively told to let go, instead the shaman held it and squeezed it, the harder he squeezed the more intense the infection ran from my gut, through my veins, into my heart and out in floods of sadness. My breathing was heavy. My pain was intense. My hurt was real.

I regained control. I regained strength.

Little did I know the next thing he was going to say to me was going to bring my pain and hurt back in an instant. This time with intensity a million times stronger.

He called out my spoon. A tiny wooden spoon I wore around my neck. 

The shaman’s words were, “Now, you can take off that thing from around you’re neck and we will burn it at the ceremony”. Hearing these words, knowing there was a possibility of losing my spoon broke me into pieces and I instantly clasped the spoon in my hand and held it tight. Raw emotion resonated through my body. I could feel the pain grip my heart and gut.

The pain held tight. The pain held strong. I was infected with sadness.

I was in an inner world of pure pain. My eyes gripped shut. My hand clasping the spoon. My breathing stopped. I would only breathe as he shouted at me. I stopped again, unable to complete a breath without being told. I could not feel the air, the seat I was sitting on. The restaurant had gone. The world around me disintegrated into nothingness. Time and space had faded.

I knew this all made sense. I had to begin to let go. I had to break free from this bound.

As I once again regained control and strength, he started on Adam. During this time, I was in my own world and not paying one tiny bit of attention to them. I reached around my neck and began untying my spoon. I looked at it. I ran the smooth spoon through my fingers. I kissed it. Then, then placed it in my pocket. Why? I’m not sure. Did I want to burn it? I don’t know. After the spoon was in my bag, I had two bracelets with strong associations bound to my wrists. A bracelet from Cambodia and a string from Doi Suthep temple that I got given on 25th October 2011. I couldn’t untie them. I struggled. I was frustrated. But somehow, this was making sense and I wanted. Seeing me struggle, the shaman offered me a knife. Once I agreed, he requested me to place my armon the table where he cuts one, he cuts two. My wrist was bare

I had surrendered.

I had committed to this ceremony that had begun before my eyes in this little tea shop. To ensure this was my commitment, he placed the spoon and bracelets into a bag and bound them with elastic bands. It was my responsibility. I was not to open it, touch it, or look at it. Not until the night of the Ayahuasca ceremony a few sleeps later.

Intense! And I haven’t even had any Ayahuasca yet.

to be continued


One response

  1. Kim

    You have me on the edge of my seat … what happens next Anthonee? Oh and thank you for having the strength to share with us your personal grief and pain. I admire you for doing so.

    13/03/2012 at 08:10

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