This ceremony was to be dedicated to a more practical matter – what am I going to do in future? I knew that I didn’t want to work full time in IT, and that I particularly had no interest in any kind of programming or administration work any longer. I knew I had a broad range of skills, talents and knowledge and I knew that I felt a strong connection and compassion towards people.
I decided again to drink the San Pedro in thick liquid form rather than risk a repeat of the experience from the time I’d used the capsules.
Javier advised me beforehand to bring the quote used at the beginning of his book on Ayahuasca to the ceremony:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves “Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?” Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are born to make manifest the Glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us, it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. – Marianne Williamson
By this time, I’d realized that rather than trying to attack an issue of the mind head on with the mind, it was necessary to take a detour. Not only was I learning about my mind and it’s tricks, but I was also finding good strategies to delicately work around them. Rather than sit in deep thought about what I should be doing in future, which would only have lead to more philosophy, intellect and tying myself up in knots, I tried to sit with the feelings that arose around the subject and that prevented me from walking my path.
I sat reading the quote above which was becoming more and more clear and obvious to me on each repetition. The dialog that I use to keep myself small arose, “just be normal, fit in.” I was forever squashing myself, scared to express my creativity and flare, scared to be who I was, ashamed of my achievements and unwilling to “live my truth,” “be in my power,” or any other variation of the same sentiment. It was more of the usual fear of rejection, shame and guilt that needed to come up. I lay down inside the house and cried and vomited for a good hour. Afterwards, I felt that I’d released a large chunk of limiting baggage in one go.
An amusing routine had started to form for me in ceremony, and the progression was something like this:
- 8AM: Open the ceremony.
- 8.30AM: Drink the medicine.
- 9AM: Wonder if anything was happening.
- 9.30AM: Start feeling nauseous whilst convincing myself that I didn’t and that my issues were solved.
- 10.30AM: Feel overwhelmed by the strength of my dosage, and solemnly promise myself that I would never, ever, drink again.
- 11AM: Throw up and start dealing with whatever needed to be dealt with in that ceremony after varying levels of resistance.
- 2PM: Spend the afternoon in some degree of peace and receiving insights.
- 5PM: Close the ceremony, still very much in the throws of the medicine.
In this ceremony, it took longer than usual to get to the root of the matter and release it. I spent many hours feeling nauseous, resisting, and rolling around on the grass uncomfortable.
I’m learning that to work through resistance is an art in itself. Sometimes, I know that I’m resisting whatever needs to come up, but I just don’t know what it is or how to surrender to it. The symptoms in my case are; growing nausea, physical and mental heaviness, and sometimes pain or muscle twitching which has ranged from small spasms to a full blown seizure.
I’ve come to realize that that’s OK. The point is not to resist the resistance itself. I have begun to just lie flat, one hand on my stomach and the other on my heart, and just “breathe in to it” as Javier says. Whatever the discomfort, it’s never worse than the resistance of the discomfort. When I lie flat and accept the resistance, the issue to be addressed soon comes to light, and is released through a purge – whether a scream, vomit, laughter, tears or a song (so I’m told!).
A painful experience of rejection from many years ago in a previous relationship came to light and I cried on Javier’s shoulder for what seemed like forever. After a final trip to the toilet to vomit and a few minutes to catch my breath, that familiar sense of lightness and peace came over me, and I found myself smiling.
The remaining few hours were spent lying in the Maloka smiling, feeling the flow of energy in the group, and feeling whatever small resistances came up. I had my attention on this particularly bizarre looking garden fixture of Javier’s before realizing that things were only ever what I perceived them to be. I could find happiness, sadness, beauty or fear in anything. Whatever state I would project on to something would change it into just that. In parts of the ceremony where I felt happy and content, the outside world appeared full of beauty and flow. Where I became angry and resistant, the world outside adapted and appeared the same.
It really brought home the lesson from a previous ceremony, that it was me that would freak myself out, rather than fear being some external force that just came over me. I would summon fear as a distraction – a type of resistance. Once, I would have totally freaked myself out if I’d focused on something like that garden statue in ceremony, now I felt completely neutral towards it but could engender the feelings of fear or beauty if I chose to.
The ceremony was closed and I went for a shower before dinner with the group.
