Image by 1tamara2 from Pixabay
Published: July 2024
Location: PoetsOnline, specifically the Dramatic Monologue part of the Archive.
Genesis: I met a gentleman on Clubhouse some years ago, an Indian-born British doctor who had spent three years with an Amazonian tribe in Peru, learning all about ayahuasca, the powerful medicine plant. He was trained to run ceremonies, to make the mixture, to hold space for participants, and to deal with the challenges that inevitably arise.
After we eventually met in person, he invited me to join him, and a couple of others, in Scotland, for what turned out to be one of his final ceremonial weekends. He ran two, on two consecutive nights. I’ve never looked back.
This is NOT a path that is suitable for everyone! The plant is potent; the trip lasts for hours; it always involves physical purging of some kind; and it can be life-changing. It’s also been known to break those who are not ready, or are not sufficiently prepared, or who approach the medicine with a lack of respect.
My experience was very different from one night to the next, but both were profound, and profoundly beautiful.
When you stood before the mirror,
holding eye contact with the man behind the glass,
stating your intention for the forthcoming ritual,
I stood behind you
as a reassuring Presence.
When you entered the darkness of the Temple,
I was walking beside you,
holding your hand,
connecting you to the Eternal All.
When you drank your first draught
of the dark, strong, sacred liquid,
I stepped back, observing, monitoring,
keeping you safe;
the still, calm centre at the Heart of your personal storm.
When you lay on your side, all curled up,
I embraced you from behind,
enfolding you into my leafy arms,
empowering you to fully absorb the Code,
to become One with the All.
Throughout your hours of darkness
I never once left your side,
gifting you with the occasional caress
as you vulnerably, consciously died
to the old illusion of Separateness
and opened up to the Deep, and to the Wide.