Drink, don’t think
Ok so this is what you actually came for, the ceremonies. Hmm I really should have been selling something while making you read those first two articles…Maybe Mother Aya is using me to have you go meet her and I am just her lemming like vessel.
As there were no windows, let alone curtains I awoke at sunrise as the jungle came alive with squawks and inexplicable rattles. The day started with a 7 am vomitivo at the maestra’s casa. Yes, you read that right, vomitivo — self induced vomiting. I’m not sure if this was a group bonding exercise or purely for the amusement of the staff. There were 22 of us on the retreat and this was really my first time getting to meet everyone. Three at a time we had to drink a hot cup of lemongrass tea and then keep drinking warm water until we expunged the entire contents of our stomachs. At least 3 times. While everyone else watched. The facilitators encouraged us with a “drink, don’t think” mantra. This humbling activity should be de rigueur at every corporate offsite.
Afterwards, we had a healthy breakfast of juice, porridge and fruits and then we all met in the Maloka at 10 am for a sharing circle. We were introduced to the healers and were told more information about the ceremonies. The Temple only employs Shipibo ayahuasqueros (maestros) who carry with them years of intergenerational experience.
We then went round the circle one by one and stated our intentions. I was healthy but I was feeling a bit empty with my life. For those of us who live in big cities we aren’t from, I think society can be quite challenging. Away from our family, school and university friends. As Johann Hari outlines in Lost Connections, many of us suffer from “reactive” depression (the kind that relates to our environment and life experience) rather than “endogenous” depression (where something goes wrong in the brain). Reactive depression can be caused by hardship, trauma, loneliness, lack of fulfilment, absence of status or disconnection from nature. In my case I had been doing a job that involved working from home and living alone, I didn’t find the work fulfilling and many of my friendship groups had moved away, so I was struggling on that front. I also had a more long term issue that I wanted to ask the plant. My intention was to understand why I suffered from an external locus of evaluation and was always doing things to impress other people and not thinking about what I actually wanted to do for me. Everyone was very open so it was a beautiful experience and amazing to hear everyone’s initial story.
We then had lunch in the canteen which would be our final meal on ceremony days.
After lunch, we met Adam, a PhD candidate in Medical Anthropology at URV. He was working on a research project in collaboration with the Psychedelic Research Group at Imperial College London, led by Dr. Robin Carhart-Harris. They are trying to bridge the gap between ancestral indigenous wisdom and western scientific knowledge. I had already completed quite a long online questionnaire before I arrived. Taking 45 minutes to complete, it was about 9 times longer than my phone-notification-battered attention span. Now we were given 10 forms and asked to complete a questionnaire about our mood before and after each ceremony.
The Temple’s founder, Englishman Matthew Watherston, had his life transformed after using the plant to treat depression and cannabis addiction in 2007. I found his story interesting because before founding the Temple, Matthew worked in business but had been searching for a more fulfilling purpose after questioning the competitive and ego-driven business world. He was driving this medical research and seeking to bridge the gap between ancient shamanic medicine with both Western psychotherapy and Eastern spiritual practices. With that in mind, the Temple has also introduced a daily Yin Yoga practice before the ceremony.
We then all returned to the maloka where we had a group consultation with maestras and maestros. Our facilitators translated and gave us some more insights into the ceremonies. One takeaway for me that we would be ingesting plant consciousness. This made my eyes roll but then Allen explained the consciousness of a plant was simply, “stay rooted in the ground but reach towards the sun.” This is pretty much the same as they say in the start-up world “keep your head in the clouds and feet on the ground.” We were told we would have a half cup on the first day to determine our tolerance but we could have seconds if we so wanted.
Before each ceremony at 5 pm we had a cold flower bath which they call Jain Póit. We all queued up in our swim suits and then basically did the ice bucket challenge as they ladled freezing cold flower infused water over our heads. For some added titillation, the maestras (it was always the women giving the flower baths) jokingly offered to pour some over your crotch. As I always love to feed the stimulation monkey I always obliged. I think the point was to attract good energy so we were told not to wash it off and instead to let it air dry. So I went back to my tambo and filled in the pre-ceremony form.
It was so peaceful in my little hut. No electricity, just there in the middle of nature. As the sun started to go down, our gas lamps glowed warmly and I thought to myself if I ever wanted to be a writer this kind of set up would be nearly perfect. We had also been told to bring a head lamp with a red light setting (so as not to blind people with bright white light during the ceremonies). We were then due to return to the maloka at 6:30 pm for Yin Yoga with badass tattooed psychonaut, Lacey. So I gathered my headlamp, a water bottle, a blanket, a pillow, a lighter and a pack of mapacho cigarettes (we were told this local tobacco was also seen as a healing plant).
The 22 of us arranged in a circle on single mattresses around the maloka. A bucket and toilet roll was provided. You can see the 7 mattresses in the centre where the 5 maestros and two facilitators sat. The yoga was not too arduous and was designed to help us to be able to sit for longer and focus on the maestros icaros.
At 7:30 pm the maestros and facilitators entered. The maestros drank the Ayahuasca themselves while we sat in silence. They also smoked mapachos or pipes and I noticed they bathed themselves in the tobacco smoke like they were trying to ward off evil spirits.
The ceremony started at 8 pm by which time it was dark. One by one we were called up to the centre. I was close to the last to go and walked up to a mat where Allen, Inma and one of the female maestros were sitting around a mat dimly lit by two oil lamps. Everything was hushed and in sacred tones. It reminded me a little of receiving the Eucharist as a boy in church. The fact that this drink didn’t require a leap of faith like ‘the body of Christ’ and was going to induce a powerful response meant there was a lot more tension in the air than your standard Sunday service.
I sat down cross legged and they asked if I was ok. I said I was and the maestro handed Allen a shot glass of Ayahuasca. I took the glass from Allen and knocked it back. It had a herby umami flavour, somewhat like soy sauce or marmite. As I had seen others do, I bowed to them with a prayer gesture and returned to my mattress.
After maybe 10 minutes of sitting in a half lotus position, I started to hear murmurs from the others. I was about 15 minutes behind the first person who had taken it. It was pitch dark barring the odd flare of someone lighting a mapacho. I decided to light one of mine with my brand new Amazon bought windproof electric lighter. The lighter burst into a supernova of blue flame illuminating all around me. Allen immediately came over and asked me not to use it as it was distracting and offered me a traditional gas lighter. Bloody Shenzhen hyper-competitive over-engineering, the lighter was too good. Back to basics.
The shipibo maestros started to sing their icaros. These are emotionally evocative songs to carry you away to the land of the fairies. In some ways it was like listening to Irish folk music. The 5 maestros had completely different styles and as they all sang in unison it formed a beautiful crescendo.
I took a few puffs of the mapacho and some visions started to form. A glowing neon version of the mosquito net from my tambo materialised and hung over my mat. Nothing very powerful happened initially. I started to have some really nice thoughts. It was similar to when I had done a psilocybin ceremony in London, although more visual. I started to see and feel that sense of unity and oneness as I had in London. I had a vision of the cosmos with the primordial deity Gaia sitting in half lotus in the centre. Interesting as she is the personification of the Earth and I was trying to connect to a plant. Then Gaia morphed into my mother and I had a sense of everything in the universe being connected and that I was seeing the life force that fuels all life. My mother has Parkinsons and I often worry about the future but this made me feel that all was connected and everything returns to this source. Some tears rolled down my cheeks. I had a strong sense after this to go and spend some quality time with my parents.
The 5 maestros distributed themselves evenly around the maloka and started to sing individual icaros straight towards people from the bottom of their mats. When the first one sang to me it was very beautiful to listen to. I couldn’t say that I could feel any energy or anything but I tried to sit up and be present and focus on them.
Nothing particularly powerful was happening and Allen had said we could have seconds after our first icaro if we liked so I flashed my red lamp against the back wall and Allen came over. We carefully stepped our way in the dark back to the cup and I had another small glass of the brew.
Thirty minutes later, holy fuck!!
I think my mind is more visual than average but I wasn’t ready for such an acute onset tsunami. And for it to be so sexual. The female maestro’s icaros kinda sounded like wasps but with honey siren voices. A disembodied neon vulva hovered towards me and straddled my face. At the same time I could sense a giant antennaed wasp-like creature behind it. It was like the vulva was the honey trap that the parasitoid creatures were using to lure me in. I realised it wanted to insert its proboscis down my throat and lay its eggs inside me. I decided not to fight it and opened my mouth wide and tilted my head back to allow the metaphysical brood parasite to deepthroat me.
While we were coupling the light show took a different turn. Imagery like the giant neon billboard from Bladerunner 2049 took over my visual field.
A gaggle of beautiful naked girls called me seductively to follow them out of the maloka and into the jungle. There was a hypnotic buzzing and they looked like radioactive pornstars, they were all tits, ass and heavily made up eyes and lips. Seemingly the memory box containing all those years of watching PornHub and SciFi had been flung open.
But the offer seemed pretty enticing so I was ready to go. They turned and gestured for me to follow. But as they turned I could see they were evil, maggot infested, rotting, desperate, they needed money and drugs. They weren’t here to show me a good time. They were here to use me. Or they themselves were hurting and were desperate. Just trying to survive but had chosen the path of oblivion and were frantically trying to keep all the plates spinning by feeding off others like parasites. Perhaps Mother Aya was telling me, “Don’t chase the false idol of sex and eternal youth. I will run up on the rocks listening to these siren calls.”
The ocular ascent stage passed and calmed down to what felt like a voice talking directly to my mind. A strong voice said,“Protect me!” I interpreted this voice not as the plant but as the planet. It continued, “You are a soldier. You are my front line defence. Get strong, get fit, protect me. Stand up straight. Straight spine, broad chest, be proud. Behave like a soldier.”
A surge of oneness with those around me came over me — “all these other people are also my servants. Work as one. Protect your mother planet. Fist bump fellow warriors when you meet to show you are in this fight together.”
I felt like a Spartan warrior. Ready to defend earth against… What? Alien hordes? I sought clarification.
“The attack is from unawakened men who aren’t listening to me. Like you were before today. You must keep listening. You can hear me when you are still. I am always whispering to you if you just listen. Then you have to help others to listen.”
The male maestro with the most baritone voice came to my mat and started to sing to me. I moved to the front of the mat and took a kneeling position. I knelt up tall, straightened my spine, put my shoulders back deeply, arms by my side trying to fully focus my heart on him. I visualised myself having an Arc Reactor like Iron Man.
Suddenly, it felt like my lungs filled with helium. My chest was pulled up into the air and it felt like I semi levitated. I felt so light and joyous.
Then the voice said, “Have a child and raise it to be a strong soldier to protect me in the future. When it is ready to fight for me, then you can return to me.”
It continued, “Don’t worry about your mother. She has done her duty, she has served me. She will return to me when she is ready and she will be at peace.”
My initial intention of asking how I could overcome my external locus of evaluation were brushed aside as trivial material concerns, not of planetary significance.
At around 12 am I came back down to reality. I then sat in a meditative position in the dark and listened to the sounds of the others and noticed the odd mapacho flame igniting or being puffed.
At what seemed like 1 am, the facilitators thanked each of the maestros one by one and we all responded with a “woo-hoo” and laughed. The facilitators and maestros left. We then had the option to return to our tambos, sleep on our mattresses in the maloka or to go to the canteen and chat into the wee hours.
I liked the energy in the maloka so I put on my eye mask and drifted off to sleep.
Next article: TBC
✍️ Written during Writers’ Hour.
