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I Skipped Synagogue to Drink Ayahuasca
And learned about my relationship to addiction and God
Darkness has fallen and the full moon is huge and rising on the edge of the sky.
It is a Friday night and I am sitting in a circle in a clearing on the edge of the thick and swampy Florida woods with nine other people, around a heart-shaped fire. The fire will burn all night.
Several facilitators will ensure it never goes out, as well as sing traditional songs and play instruments such as a hand drum and harmonica, to keep the flow going as we all enter into the ceremony.
I would normally be attending Shabbat services at my synagogue, but this weekend I chose a different way to connect with God.
Our facilitator, Taita Juan, a Colombian curandero (commonly known as shaman) begins to explain what will happen. We will each receive a cup of the medicine (ayahuasca, also called yagé). Prior to that, the facilitators, two men and a woman, offer us hapé, a powdered snuff that is a mixture of tobacco and herbs, blown into the nose through a narrow pipe. The hapé is not a requirement, but it is also a sacred medicine that balances out the nervous system and grounds the spirit.
I accept the hapé, given to me with a blessing, and feel the burning blast into my nostril and…
