I wasn’t depressed, an addict or battling PTSD. Ayahuasca still changed my life, this is how

In the treacle darkness of the maloca, surrounded by sighs, belches, yelps and giggles – there was even barking – of people I’d only just met, as the medicine wound its way through us all, I suddenly had a strong urge to stick my hand down my trousers and stroke the flesh of my right thigh. “So soft,” I murmured aloud, “so warm.” I…