SOS

Part IV of My Amazon Adventure

To read the first in this series, please go here.

As the days progressed and we had more ceremonies under our belts, many people withdrew into themselves. It was not uncommon to see someone become silent for a few days. In fact, at times it was difficult to muster up the energy to eat communally. This is why the Facilitators made a silent table for anyone that did not want to share their experiences and had a need to process alone. I never sat at this table, but there were definitely times it would have been preferable.

One thing that was becoming more and more apparent was that people were dropping like flies from sickness. People were waking up in cold sweats, coughing, had fevers, and had very low energy. During one of our morning breakfasts, a Facilitator made an announcement that the flu had hit Iquitos and that anyone suffering should go to the Maestro’s house afterward for some natural remedies. I seemed to be the only one at the retreat center beyond positive that this was not the flu, but full-blown Covid moving its way through our jungle camp. This was at the end of December 2021 when Omicron was in full swing. No one seemed to be overly concerned and so I chalked it up to yet another test from the Universe around the theme of acceptance versus resistance. I could hunker down in my Tambo for the remaining week out of fear or I could take my chances and live in the moment…I chose the latter.

A day or two went by without any ceremonies and we were all given time alone in our Tambos to process what we had experienced thus far. We were halfway through our time here and a lot had happened up until this point. I’d say on average we spent about 7 hours a day alone in our jungle huts without any electricity or devices from the modern world to distract ourselves. Many of these days were spent laying in my hammock, reading a book, journaling, meditating, or just listening to the wild sounds of the jungle that continued to be so foreign to me.

On the evening of the fourth ceremony, I was incredibly nervous to work with the medicine again. My relationship with Ayahuasca had been severed since the last time she buried me alive and tortured me for five hours! I no longer trusted her, but more importantly, I didn’t trust myself when I was with her. I kept fighting back and forth about what I wanted to do. A large part of me wanted to sit this ceremony out or take a much lower dose, but again that voice inside my head kept nagging me that I was here to do the work and “not take the easy way out.”

When I was called to the Maestro I made a game-time decision and decided to go all in. He poured the thick brown liquid and it took all my power to swallow it down my throat. We all agreed that the taste of Ayahuasca only grew more pungent and fowl after each passing ceremony. In fact, it was so awful that on days I would be walking past the Maloka my stomach would churn and acid reflux would happen just by me being in close proximity to the ceremonial space. It’s so amazing how our thoughts can manifest so clearly in the body when we’re paying attention to it!

As I waited for the medicine to work, anxiety, and panic coursed through my body. I immediately regretted taking the full dose and knew that I would suffer greatly because of it. Sure enough, Mother Ayahuasca came to me in a blaze of glory and I was being buried alive yet again, a repeat of the night before. I could not fathom that she was giving me the same exact scenario, for each ceremony is supposed to be different. Supposedly, I had not learned the lesson that was intended and she was going to make sure this mistake did not ever happen again.

I was on the verge of having a panic attack for there was NO WAY that I was going to be able to maintain my composure without losing my mind like last time. I then remembered the beach that she took me to and her writing “SOS.” She was testing me to see if I would lay there in silence suffering or if I would ask for help. I quickly reached for my flashlight and waved it behind me to signal for help. One of the Facilitators came to my rescue and I explained the situation. I asked if she could sit by my side and hold my hand. Within five minutes I was no longer buried underground and being electrocuted. Tears sprang to my eyes as I realized how long I had been suffering in silence. I also had the realization that it didn’t have to be this way and that so much of my suffering was taken away by my connection to another human.

I thought that I was home free as the medicine completely faded and I felt no effects at all. I prayed to Mother Ayuascha thanking her for the test and for also showing me mercy. I was so relieved that my ceremony would be over before it really began. However, the thing with medicine is it comes in waves and you can never be too sure when she is done with you.

Suddenly, I was back underground being buried alive and suffocated once more. Once again I was overwhelmed and scared, but I also knew what to do this time and shined my flashlight bright for help. Suzanna, the Lead Facilitator, came over this time and I asked for her to hold my hand as the last Facilitator had done, but she refused. Instead, she told me to breathe into the medicine, smoke my mapacho, or smell my perfume which was supposed to ground me. She then walked away and left me alone to be tortured in silence.

Rage grew within me. Once again, I was collecting evidence of people not listening to my needs. This had been a major theme in my life where I had asked friends and family for the simplest of favors and they would not concede to my desires. These people that would not listen to or validate my needs taught me that I did not matter and that I needed to do everything on my own. I could trust no one but myself. Here in the middle of the Amazon Jungle, this Facilitator was retraumatizing me and was deepening those neural pathways of self-reliance.

I refused to be ignored and decided this would be the moment where I demanded more from the people that I was under their care and guidance. I flashed my light again and she came over. This time she told me to surrender to the medicine, but I assured her that this was me surrendering. Asking for help was completely out of my wheelhouse, so this was me waving the white flag. She still refused to hold my hand and left me alone once more.

I flashed my light for the third time, deciding that I would ask for another Facilitator the next time Suzanna came by my mat. However, this time it was a new person and they sat by my side and held my hand for five minutes, however, no miracle happened and I was still buried underground. I thanked them for their support, but obviously, this is not what was needed.

I spent the rest of the ceremony in absolute misery and tried many of the similar grounding techniques that I did before. I felt like I was moving backward in my healing and was feeling pretty annoyed and helpless. Then Mother Ayahuasca reminded me of the Buddhist parable of the second arrow. The Buddhists say that any time we suffer misfortune, two arrows fly our way. Being struck by an arrow is painful. Being struck by a second arrow is even more painful. When we expect something — especially something that will give us pleasure — and we don't get it, we inflict even more pain on ourselves. So the Buddhists say the best way to avoid that second arrow is to pinpoint that moment when your desires become expectations. Desire all you want, but don't let that desire turn into an expectation.

That night I went to sleep feeling so thankful that the ceremony was over and making a promise to myself to take less medicine next time. I made a vow to listen to my own needs and they were telling me to slow the fuck down!

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