Coming out of my delirium, half in this world and half in what seemed like the never-ending galaxy, my Shaman, asked what she should text my mom (who was on the edge of her seat, waiting to hear if I was “okay”). I said, “Tell her I’ve just woken up from a coma and that I love her so much.” That’s exactly how I felt. I had what seemed like an endless night of being under the spiritual knife. Decades and lifetimes were cut through, with the removal of energetic weight, misaligned patterns, beliefs, relationships, attachments, anxieties, fears, old wounds, intergenerational trauma, codependencies, fawning, dis-ease, guilt, shame, pain, samskaras, and weight that literally wasn’t mine to bear or hold on to. All of this was to be replaced with unconditional love for myself, the people near and far in my life, and in the world. I felt like I had undergone labor, giving birth to my authentic self. I had been sleepwalking my entire life, not realizing that these low-vibrational patterns were keeping me in a slumber.

Ayahuasca wasn’t like anything I expected it to be. It had been calling to me for a long while, but it never felt like it was in alignment, or my kind of thing. Frankly, I was scared. I couldn’t dare imagine what kind of show my subconscious would want to put on for me. And to have to relinquish full control and offer my full submission to the medicine, and sit back and watch? No, thank you.

For this reason, I chose to go the alternative route, including sitting in 10-day Vipassana Silent Meditation retreats, which have been thought to achieve the same “Dark Night of the Soul” effect as Ayahuasca. I also engaged in many years of therapy. Eventually, I felt comfortable enough to sit with other plant medicines, like psilocybin (same, same, but different). This was extremely healing and gave my nervous system permission to inch closer to something bigger.

Intuitively, I knew Ayahuasca was a missing link in my health journey. I was still holding onto dis-ease, unhealthy patterns, and trauma, and it continued to present and manifest as emotional and physical symptoms.

In making the decision to finally sit with the medicine, I knew I wanted to attend a ceremony in Latin America, as close to the source as possible. I conducted months of research, meeting with various centers and even putting down deposits before settling on what ‘felt’ like the right retreat for me in Costa Rica. Yet, I was still hesitant. Why? My body. I have something called Mast-Cell Activation Syndrome, which basically means I overproduce histamine and have had periods of being allergic to most things. How did I know the medicine wouldn’t fall into that category? I wanted to try it in the USA with someone trustworthy, near a hospital, before potentially having a reaction to it, in the middle of the jungle.

My friend, Jamie-Lee, had just sat in a Cacao ceremony with a couple in Joshua Tree, where I live, and she spoke highly of them. I learned that they conduct grandmother medicine ceremonies in addition to cacao ceremonies, so I called to get more information. They gave me the option to do a private ceremony with them, rather than waiting for a group ceremony, and even informed me that I was able to start with a very small amount to allow my body to test it out. After our initial call, I met with them in person and felt immediately comfortable. I was prepped on the ‘dieta’ (a lifestyle change and shift you make before sitting with the medicine) — eating light, healthy, vegetarian meals, practicing celibacy, avoiding caffeine, alcohol, or drugs, and more. Plus, fasting on the day of. Within a week, I was ready.

When I arrived for the day’s events, a womb healing ceremony was prepared for me, which was completely befitting considering my string of recent unhealthy relationships. Before even ingesting the medicine, I was crying and processing. I journaled about those who had hurt me and who I have also hurt. Together, we created an intentions list. She then blew Rapé, a tobacco and ash mixture, into my nose, which felt like it burned a long-standing sinus infection away (this was later confirmed to be true by my dentist’s CT imaging). I felt grounded. Her partner then joined us as it was time to open the circle for the medicine.

The plan was to start me at a quarter of a cup, versus the one cup that is usually given. We gave my body thirty minutes to see how it would respond. Despite the level of anxiety I had going into this, I felt relatively calm. Plus, I actually liked the taste of their brew (each one is a little different depending on who makes it). It reminded me of a mixture of soy sauce and tamarind.

As I began to drift off to a different space, my only sibling, Peter, who passed when I was 19, came to me in a vision and told me that he was the one who brought me there in a very sweet, funny way (very him). About a half-hour had passed, and my body seemed like it was in a good place, and I felt it was time to take more. However, this is when I got emotional. I was terrified. I was trying to see if I could maybe take just another quarter of a cup, but my options were to either take the remainder of the cup or stay the way I was with the amount I had. I remembered that I was there for healing, and not to be in a sweet, light daze. I drank the remainder in distress, and with knowing that I was safe and supported.

They began the sound bowl healing to guide me within, and in a short time, I began seeing sacred geometry everywhere, even with my eyes shut. I knew, with my experience of other psychedelics, that the veil was being lifted, and I was going into the deep. P.S. Whether we see it or not, sacred geometry is everywhere.

The first thing I recall seeing was a distressing image of my brother dead, and I began crying aloud and screaming. The next thing I knew, they abandoned their instruments to hold me (they told me the medicine hit me quickly because I was ready to surrender). Anytime I felt distressed, they would help ground me and explain that I could change the channel or focus on something else at any time — truly guiding me through the fire and into the light.

For those also wondering, I didn’t vomit nor leave my area to use the bathroom all night. Purging can also happen via crying, shaking, sweating, a runny nose, and other ways. I physically felt like a cloud, my skin so soft and squishy. I literally kept saying, “I’m a cloud” while giggling. I felt really great.

And how long was I actually under? I felt like 10 hours, but it was only 4.5 hours. Time is seriously irrelevant on medicine.

I was able to go through my parents’ childhood experiences, including their marriage, losing their only son, and witnessing them taking care of their chronically ill daughter (me). It was a lot, and it also brought me a newfound understanding and deep appreciation for them as humans and parents. They did the best they could with the information they had and with little to no support. They immigrated here alone for a better life and sacrificed so much of their lives to ensure their children had better opportunities than they did. I am in awe and filled with gratitude for them. They are truly brilliant, and I adore them. I may come from generational trauma, but I am also built on a foundation of generational strength. I find that beautiful and incredibly empowering.

I also experienced an enhanced state of gratitude for others who are in my life and received many beautiful messages for some of them. Messages from whom? It’s difficult to answer, or conceptualize this answer. I just know it’s from source, and from those who passed who had messages from them, I suppose. I was able to share most of these messages, but some were not ready to receive them. So it is.

I felt many things during this experience. I felt like I was floating through space. I felt powerful. I felt like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. I saw and witnessed my true essence. I felt sweet and kind; I am sweet and kind. I got to be with and nourish my inner child and teenager, who endured some major trauma but was also the more courageous, and lovely girl (looking back). I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to hurt me. But ultimately, hurt people hurt people. On the other side of that spectrum, healed people, heal people. It is my goal to be on the spectrum of healing.

I had reclaimed my power and my understanding of who and what I am that night. I am a cosmic goddess, the elements, the stars. I am love, I am medicine. I am my own soulmate. I am complete. No one can dim my light, except me. I recognized my power in seeing and reflecting on others’ strengths and reminding them of their path. In being of service as a therapist and coach. I witnessed my pain and past traumas as a true gift and the beauty I’ve transmuted them into. I deserve the best, and I am worthy of it. I am worthy of a support system (including a partner) who will see that in me and cherish it. If you’re reading this, I hope you know the same goes for you.

Healing is simply a journey back to ourselves, and remembering who we are, it takes just as much unlearning as it does learning. Ayahuasca is one of the strongest tools I’ve experienced in aiding in that. I hold a lot of gratitude in knowing that this healing and reprogramming naturally and organically lends itself to a positive ripple effect. When we heal ourselves, we heal each other. We heal the world. To quote Rumi, “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”

And in case no one has told you recently, you are very loved