From Darkness to Joy: An Ayahuasca Awakening
A journey through grief, anger, and anxiety — and the wisdom that turned it into gratitude.
Last week, as part of my celebration of 48 revolutions around the sun, I attended an ayahuasca and rapé ceremony with the Varinawa (People of the Sun) clan from the Noke Koi community of the Brazilian Amazon. They are currently on “tour” in Mexico, sharing their traditions, music, and medicines. It was one of the most beautiful and powerful medicine ceremonies I’ve ever experienced.
After a few weeks of intense work both professionally and personally, I went into the ceremony with the intention of healing and releasing some pent-up emotions. I figured I’d at least have a good cry, because that’s what I tend to do during medicine ceremonies. I’m an emotional person by nature and tears are a cathartic form of release for me.
At the beginning of the ceremony, they set the ground rules. One of them was to try to keep yourself contained, and if you wanted to cry or yell, you were asked to try to process it silently so as not to disturb the others around you who were going to be in their own processes. Immediately I thought, “Shit. That’s going to be hard.” They said that if you really needed to cry or scream, to call one of them over for help and they would move the energy through you.
After the second cup, my emotions started to swell. Tears started streaming from my eyes. I was feeling grief and sadness and felt like there was a huge weight on my shoulders as I tried to keep it contained. But the more I tried to contain it, the bigger it became. And then suddenly I felt anger. I knew where it was coming from–I just went through a breakup–and all I wanted to do was scream profanities. My whole body was rocking as it was trying to figure out what to do with this energy. I refused to ask for help at first. I wanted to see if I could deal with it myself.
Finally, I went up to one of the shamans and told him I wanted to cry and scream. I thought he would perform some sort of ritual to help move it through me. Instead, he said, “Do it quietly.”
I went back to my spot, buried my face in my shawl, and let it out quietly, profanities and all. It helped, but I still felt stuck in a loop. Lots of negative thoughts were going through my head and I couldn’t shut them off. I looked up to the sky for help. I saw a shooting star, but even that couldn’t comfort me.
Then they offered a third cup to anyone who wanted to partake. In my experience, when you feel stuck, sometimes the solution is to take more medicine. So that’s what I did.
It hit me hard and fast. I immediately regretted having that third cup and ended up vomiting. Two of the shamans started chanting, and the visuals I was seeing as I watched them sway back and forth in their traditional dress with the jungle and starry night sky as the backdrop were really intense. And that’s when the fear and anxiety set in. I tried to fight it, which is never a good idea. Grandma Ayahuasca always wins.
It dawned on me that I’ve been a fighter my whole life. Not just in the literal sense when I was practicing martial arts, but in every sense. What was I still fighting for? Knowing the medicine always shows us what we need–and not necessarily want–to see, I decided to surrender and sit with the fear in an effort to understand where it was coming from.
As the word “fear” kept repeating itself over and over in my head, it began to lose its meaning and significance until I had no more comprehension of what the word even meant. And in an instant, I came to the conclusion that I had nothing to be afraid of. The fear dissolved, and in its place came a deep sense of awe as I continued to watch the shamans chant and sway. These teachers, these masters of the art of leading medicine journeys, have been doing this for hundreds, possibly even thousands, of years. Suddenly, I felt a profound sense of reverence. I was in good hands.
Then they opened up the “portal of joy” and began to play the most beautiful, loving music on the guitar. The tears started to stream down my face again, but this time they were tears of joy. They picked up the pace of the music and began playing the drums, inviting everyone to sing and dance. I started to laugh and cry at the same time when I realized that they knew exactly what they were doing when they told me to “do it quietly.” This was the moment that all the anger, grief, resentment, fear, and anxiety I was feeling had a chance to transmute into pure “alegria.” I couldn’t stop laughing.
Like, Anna! THESE PEOPLE KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THEY’RE DOING. Trust them. Trust the medicine. Trust the process. Just fucking surrender already! Everything is going to be alright.
I began to dance, tears still streaming down my face, but with a huge smile. They would periodically shout, “Vari vari!” which calls in the energy of the sun to feed our joy. I felt free. I felt relieved. But mostly I felt a deep sense of gratitude. We’re fucking alive! Look what we get to experience in these times! Look at what nature has given us. How amazing that there are people on this earth that know what to do with these medicines and are willing to share them with us.
What the heck are we doing up North, with our fancy cars, mental health crisis, and chronic illnesses? The modern world calls the indigenous peoples of the Amazon “primitive,” yet we should be looking to them for the answers to many of our society’s woes instead of destroying their habitats (and medicines) with deforestation.
It reminds me of the Prophecy of the Eagle and the Condor, which is an ancient prophecy that has variations in several indigenous nations of North and South America. It states that Western civilization, represented by the eagle, and the indigenous world, represented by the condor, will eventually come together to share in each other’s knowledge in a symbiotic relationship. We are now in those times! This is evident in the global interest in indigenous wisdom, environmental consciousness, and the blending of modern science with ancient spiritual practices. We need a balance between technology and nature, intellect and intuition, and material progress and spiritual wisdom. This is how we maintain harmony as human beings of this planet.
It is my life’s mission to help bridge this gap.
I think this is the appropriate time to announce that I am co-organizing a retreat to the Amazon in August with a trusted friend in Brazil and a pajé (shaman) from the Huni Kuin tribe, which has similar traditions to the Noke Koi. We don’t have exact dates or costs yet, but I wanted to put it out there to plant the seed for anyone who is interested. Be advised that this will be a trip for experienced travelers only, since it’s a mission to get deep into the Amazon where this tribe lives, and the accommodations will be rustic. But being able to experience these traditions and medicines in their native land is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And your contributions will go towards helping rebuild their village. Feel free to comment or message me with questions.
Vari vari! ☀️