I’ve been asked to provide some back story around how it all began for me, so this Initiation story is my first attempt at that. But for sake of brevity, I’m going to save the stories of how I found Ayahuasca, how things aligned for me to answer her call in the Amazonian jungles and to meet my shaman, for another post 🫶
Fast forwarding what felt like a decade of continual Death and Rebirth cycles, it took two years of being called away from my desk in Silicon Valley, again and again, for this initiation to finally take place. There were many beautiful journeys in those two years - womb healing, heart opening. Conversations with my grandfather (who passed months before I was born), and with my ailing grandmother’s spirit. Meeting my guides, feeling the might of my higher self. Archangel Michael standing guard as extraterrestrial beings came down routinely to help cleanse my body. Yagécito (a nickname Ayahuasca goes by in Colombia) giving me glimpses around the crystal kingdoms that no longer exist, beneath the pyramids of Giza, the secret texts of the Essenes. Witnessing the angels sing, dance, celebrate all of our collective journeys, with their trumpets in tow. The beautiful people I met along the way, our paths converging for a little while before diverging again.
But there were a whole lot of dark ones, too, and while in some of them I truly thought I could take no more, fight no more, endure no more, it’s these darker nights that were truly transformative for me.
The Night Before, 8/8/2024
I had my own intentions for this particular 8/8/8 ceremony. The Lion’s Gate Portal, for the past couple of years, had always helped usher in small and big changes in my life. Instead of being guided into these intentions though, I felt a paranoia throughout the entirety of the ceremony that I was being played by some mischievous energies. Normally, negative thinking like this would have me spiral down, into darkness, eventually drudging up shadows. This time, however, I played along. Instead of victimizing myself and allowing for all of my insecurities to bubble up, I just surrendered and watched it all, from a detached but loving place. I then purged, and waited for the medicine to wear off. Afterwards I sat on the wooden bench outside our ceremony maloca, watched the birds sing, the water run in the stream, and the trees sway: a familiar scene, the world as it always was. I witnessed the steadfastness, and I gave a brief thanks to Mother Earth for all of Her gifts.
My shaman came out of the maloca and on his way back home, bid us all a cheery goodbye for the day. But half an hour later, he came back, this time with a red bandana around his neck. Most of the ceremony participants were still there, just chatting and basking in the sun. My shaman walked over to me, and told me to close my eyes. Always a big jokester, I thought he was pulling another prank with me. Fine, I obliged. Eyes closed, I heard some rustling, and felt something go around my neck. I opened my eyes to his red bandana around me. A gift. “Para la guerrera.” For the warioress.
I had no idea what it all meant, but for some reason it felt like a prized trophy, like a marker that I’d just had a right of passage.
That’s how I know he knew what was about to happen; he was told by medicine that night, that I was ready.
He then told us that we’ll be having another ceremony the same night. Normally, I would’ve opted out, claiming fatigue, citing the importance of sleep, need for self care, blah blah blah. But this time, I felt an internal light get switched on, and heard myself say, “Vale, estoy lista.”
Okay. I’m ready.
The Initiation, 8/9/2024
When I came back to the maloca that evening, I sat with my friend, one of the shaman’s two disciples, out on the bench, smoking tobacco. Tobacco is a master plant teacher, who aids in the workings of Ayahuasca and the spirit of fire (who repels negative energies, protects and strengthens us). Before smoking, we always perform a little ritual of swiping our bodies with it, saying a little silent prayer of invocation.
As we smoked, he regaled me with stories about the art of the medicine. About the helper animals of the medicine, how birds are messengers of the sky, the eagles represent dreams, the tigers protect, and lions reign. About the smelly wild boar that roams the maloca that always wants pet rubs and attention, and how they represent the ancestors and their teeth are used to make protection necklaces.
I felt more equipped than ever. When the ceremony commenced, I broke from my usual routine of meditating, and instead performed some unplanned, solitary rituals. I took out a dried yellow flower out of my pocket that I decided at the last second to take with me to the ceremony, and made an offering of it to the fire. I watched the flames take it, as I asked for it to help prepare and fortify me. I welcomed the smoke as it filled my body.
As the ceremony progressed, I was finally able to gain some clarity around the questions I’d been having. I was thinking of diving deeper into some of them, when all of a sudden something shifted in my visions. And more answers came, but not to the questions I was having; I was getting answers to all of the major life questions I’d been having in the past three years.
In what must have been no more than 10 minutes, the visions flashed in front of my eyes, clear and rapid. And then, it came as a jolt - soft, gentle, but nonetheless striking in its immensity - the realization that I now understood the medicine. The risks, the traps, the darkness, and the fruit she bears, all were fair game at this point; one may never master this medicine, but one can learn the rules.
And just like that, I was initiated.
I didn’t see it coming. Me, a silicon valley designer who killed mosquitos without remorse, drove badly (I’m quite frankly a menace on the roads), had a love for guilty pleasures on Netflix (Selling Sunset, still good) with a penchant for scrolling through Instagram and YouTube a bit too much, and definitely not an indigenous tribal male of the jungles.
That me, so flawed and normal, was here, getting initiated into the sacred practices of the plant medicine that was Ayahuasca.
Credit: Kateryna Direnko
And yet, so many things started to make sense, and the medicine extended more answers. What I was meant to do with this. Why I came all the way down to such remote parts of the jungles, why the call for the medicine was so strong and it had to come when it did, not before or after. Why I kept coming back, why I met my shaman, why I crossed paths with his two particular disciples, and the stories they would tell me before each ceremony… All of it was pointing to this day, this initiation. It felt bigger than life. Like a divine chessboard that my higher self had so intricately, lovingly, laboriously laid out for me before life even began.
I was still receiving downloads, when Porky, the maloca’s smelly boar, somehow entered the space and decided to perch underneath my hammock, his large body poking at my butt. When I ignored him as I usually do, he became bored and began molesting my backpack for my morning provision - an apple. I quickly got up and started to shoo him away, but when he refused to leave, I found myself taking the said provision out and offering it to him. As I watched him happily munching it down, I thanked him, this ancestor spirit animal. For welcoming me into this new birth.
Hello, Fire. Air. Earth. Water.
I then found myself doing even more strange things. Swinging in my hammock, my hand found the sand below, shoved it aside to reveal the earth. My body then lifted itself off of the hammock, knelt on the ground, and laid my bare forehead to the earth, bowing. Discharging. Connecting with Her. Then, standing up and brushing off the sand from my palms, I went outside in the not-so-gentle rain, took off my jacket and stood there, greeting the water. “Hello. And thank you.” I felt Her baptize me - hair, clothes, skin.
And so, having greeted all of Her elements - fire, air, earth, and water - I was born anew.
For some reason I felt my shaman behind me watching this whole thing, or at least being aware of it all. Ever the caretaker, ever the dedicated teacher, he was witnessing how this initiation was unfolding for me. Or maybe he’s the one who conducted the initiation for me that night, I’m not really sure. He came over to the bench I was sitting in, and smiling, asked a routine question: “Como estas?” He then asked a not-so-routine question: “How do you feel about us?” He meant himself and his two disciples.
It was for some reason a question I had been expecting, even though I’d never seen him ask anyone this. And I responded. “Tengo mucho amor por ustedes.” I feel a lot of love for you three. There’s so many things I want to do with you all.
The medicine showed me so much that night: some, answers. Some, suggestions. And I told him some of the projects I was shown that I was meant to do with them. I then asked, “when did you know we’d be working together?” His answer came as a surprise, though it shouldn’t have been at that point. Before you came. He said that the medicine had shown me to him, telling him about me. That he recognized me when we first met. “But that’s over two years ago!”, I said. He had known, all this time, and he’d never told me. Because he wanted it to be my choice.
The ceremony was still in full swing inside, but we stayed out for a while yet, chatting, joking, laughing, like old old friends. After all, there was so much catching up to do. 🌿✨
What a story! One for the many descendants