¿Cómo Están Mis Hermanos?

I remember being absolutely terrified of the dark as a kid. At night I would turn off my light, and run back to my bed as quickly as I could. The same way I would run down the hall when I knew I was about to get an ass-whooping… you know back hunched, butt tucked, assuming this would protect me from whatever monster lurked in the darkness (or in the latter case, my mother).

Once in bed I would turn my focus to my multi-colored dolphin night light -the Lisa Frank-esque lighthouse that always called me home. I knew if I focused on the light I would never be consumed by the darkness; I would always find my way back to the shore. I let this feeling comfort me, feeling waves of tranquility wash over me as I dipped into the warm waters of sleep.

As I got older I grew out of my fear of the dark, but it wasn’t until recently that I realized that while external darkness was no longer a threat, there was a darkness within that I wouldn’t dare dive into. I hadn’t in fact gotten over my fear, I had just buried it so deep I forgot that it even existed. Most days it was easy to ignore the darkness, but when something triggered me - turned off my light if you will - I instinctually ran back to my bed. Desperately searching for my night light even if I wasn’t consciously aware of it. I’ve come to find that this is the case for many of us. We spend so much of our time and effort attempting to keep our lights on so that we don't have to spend a minute in darkness. We have built walls around this internal pain and we protect it by any means necessary. Convinced that our fears, stresses, and issues are caused by something outside of us we blame our discomfort on our environment. We live in a culture of “It’s definitely not me, it’s you.” But.. I mean like be honest Carol, your dissatisfaction with the timeliness of your meal probably has absolutely nothing to do with the waitress you just threw a checkbook at, and has everything to do with you. Also, if you spent half the time checking in with what’s going on inside this earth vehicle we call a body as you do picking out towels to monogram at Pottery Barn, maybe you would realize that. No offense.

I say all of this with love, compassion, and understanding because I am no exception to this. Por exemplo, there are a few over-the-phone Verizon Wireless customer service representatives who I have unreasonably verbally harassed. The stress of whatever situation I was dealing with was triggering my shit, and no one deserves to have someone else’s shit thrown at them. Yet, we do it all the time. We have the sophistication to develop phones that have facial recognition, but still fling poo at each other like our monkey-cousins. There’s an argument for evolution, young Earth creationists.

All this being said, I am inspired by how many people I have met who are waking-up. They are seeking to understand themselves, to become more aware, to face their darkness, and to stop tossing their turds… myself included. There are many paths to get there, and I am not one to say one is better than the other. However, I will share mine in the hopes that it may inspire just one person to look at the shit in their hand and instead of throwing it decide to set it down. Poetic right?

Alright Natalie, enough shit talking… we get it. Now tell me, what did you do?

Well amigo, I am so glad you asked.

Two days after arriving to Peru I found myself hiking from Aguascalientes near the base of Machu Picchu into the depths of the cloud forest. I was accompanied only by Veronica, a woman who worked in the local spiritual center, and Kucho, an ayahuascero. Oh yeah Lindsay, I was hiking into the forest to find out just how legit all this ayahuasca hype was. For the next three days I would be camping, eating in accordance to the traditional dieta, and participating in three Ayahuasca ceremonies IN A ROW.

For those of you are reading this thinking “What the shit is eye-uh-who-as-cah” have no fear, an explanation is here. First things first.. it’s pronounced “eye-ah-wah-scah”. This bitch is one of the most powerful plant teachers out there, so put some respek on her name. Made from a brew that combines the Banisteriopis caapi vine and the Psychotria viridis leaf, Ayahuasca is a traditional healing medicine of indigenous Amazonian tribes. P. viridis contains DMT - a naturally occurring psychedelic found in plants and animals (even parts of the human brain) - and B. caapi contains MOA inhibitors that work with the DMT to create a long lasting hallucinogenic effect. If you’re like me, then your first question is “how the fuck did these guys figure this shit out?” Pero like, seriously. There are 40,000 species of plants in the Amazon, and these bitches figured out that if you combine two of them in a very specific brew you get to catch a glimpse of God, Universe, Spirit, whatever you wanna call it. Of course, they will tell you the plants taught them, and after talking to a few plants myself… that seems pretty reasonable.

It’s said that the medicine calls you. Now, i’m not sure who’s saying this or how reliable of a source they are, but based on my experience this seems to be #legit. I couldn’t tell you how I first heard about ayahuasca, how I knew what it was, or why I felt compelled to do it. I just did. I don’t even know why I wanted to go to Peru, it just had always been number one on my travel list. There was something deep within me being pulled to this experience. Like diarrhea, there was a force working below the surface which I had no control over. Entonces, I feel obligated to mention that this is not something that is for everyone. It is not an experience to be had or something you do to “see what it is like”. This is plant medicine, and it is work. Unlike western medicine, it’s not something you take to get rid of your pain and forget you’ve even taken it. Once taken, ayahusaca is impossible to ignore. It takes you head first into your pain, fear, and trauma so that you can face it, release it, and find true healing. Other than my love for Miley Cyrus, there aren’t many things I am always serious about, but this is definitely one of them. Ayahuasca is a bad bitch and she requires our highest reverence.

Because of my respect for this medicine, and my gratitude for it’s undeniable healing properties, I’m not going to go into full detail of my experience with the Abuela. I could tell you about the intense visual experiences I had, how I passed out during my first ceremony, and how by the end I was feeling a bit like the mouse in Alice in wonderland after the tea party.

However, to do so would somewhat undermine the experience. I say this because I truly believe each person’s interaction with Ayahuasca is different. She is a M-A-S-T-E-R of disguise (if you get this reference let me know, we should probably be best friends), and she presents her knowledge, guidance, and healing presence in the way necessary for each individual. Thus, while there may be commonalities in people’s experiences, I don't think it is fair to say “here is what I experienced and you can too.”

What I have found in my conversations with those who have danced with the abuela is an overarching sense of appreciation and healing. In the months that followed my first week in Peru I met many travelers who had participated in ceremony, and while they admitted it was a hellish experience, everyone I met was humbled by the transformative role suffering plays in our lives. While hiking down into the Colca Canyon, a French-English man by the name of Alex gave me perhaps my favorite description of the experience. He said it was “like heaven and hell simultaneously.” Stepping into the depths of our deepest fears is no joke, but as you surrender into the pain you realize that even in our lowest moments there is a force guiding us. A light shining through the dark calling us home, and once that light is upon us the darkness doesn't seem so scary anymore.

This is the heaven Alex was talking about. Ever present in our pain and suffering is transformation, healing, and love. Within our hell there exists heaven, but we have to be brave enough to surrender into it. Throughout ceremony Kucho would call out to Veronica and I “¿Cómo están mis hermanas?”, to which we would unquestionably reply “Bien hermano” … even if we were throwing up into plastic bags filled with jaguars. Were there moments where I legitimately thought I was not going to be okay? Fuck yeah. But my point is that despite these moments we can persist. We can sit through our pain knowing it is always temporary, that we are not our thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations no matter how real they may seem in the moment. At times this is extremely hard and it might seem like it will last forever, but I promise it will come to completion.

So mis hermanos… ¿Cómo están? You don’t have to trek through the jungle and ingest a hallucinogenic plant medicine, but I invite you to take some time to really ask yourself this. Don’t be afraid of the answer. It is okay to not be okay. There is an infinite power within you to overcome, to transform, and to persist. Have faith that where you are is exactly where you need to be. Don’t be afraid of your shit… but for goodness sake please set some of it down. It’s starting to smell, and tbh like no one wants to hang out with you.

Jk, I still love you. Buena suerte chicos.