Ayahuasca: medicine or drug.

I am not a believer or a drug user. But here I am in the depths of the Amazonian rainforest knocking back a murky brown potion containing a psychoactive drug - under the supervision of a half-naked shaman who doesn’t speak a word of English. Curiosity and a lack of mystery meant exploring my consciousness and what it means to be entirely present or incapable of thinking beyond a precise moment. I’m not entirely sure possible but I’m hoping to expose some of my false certainties and view the world free from social construct and the limited perspective of my mind. In the mix, hopefully watching my Self deconstruct and reconstruct itself, ironically downloading quantum physics within a dream-like animation.

So here I am.

Under the guidance of an old jungle-man who prefers cuaderno or medicine man, I drink my first cup of ancient, spiritual Amazonian medicine- ayahuasca. This is how it plays out: Restless and eager, I find it hard to detach from my first world constraints and effortlessly relax into a state of meditation which of course, I know nothing about. The harem-wearers seem to comfortably transport themselves with ease while I’m jealously wriggling with frustration. Just as I’m reducing my medicinal beliefs to non-existent, the ayahuasca takes hold. And in it’s grasp I slowly become aware of the no gaps galaxy before my eyes and light blinking behind my eyebrows. My limbs twitch and fold into the ground, consuming any residual movement and numb without motor skills. The idea of being two separate entities dissolves without question, and my physical Self is separated from my mental, both starting to move spaciously through a dialogue of their own. Soft sounds fill my ear drums with noise. The jungle-man’s song; a loud concert and I’m standing centre stage. A warm coat of whitewash floods over my body and covers the graffiti that once tagged me still. Completely weightless, I attempt to articulate my disjointed thoughts and recreate my Self in a realm unknown. I let the invisible pass me by and take comfort knowing my experience is in fact my reality. Here and now. I’m the subject of my experience. I’m the thinker of my thoughts, the feeler of my feelings and the chooser of my choices. My thought-free state assumes no form and there’s no sense in believing consciousness is an object. Ayahuasca tells me that everything is known by and through my consciousness but it cannot itself be known as a thing. In trying to make sense of my awareness I also realise my ignorance is composed solely of beliefs. Over a few immeasurable hours i’ve come to know only one thing: I really don’t know. I’m starting to feel my own transparency. And at the same time, accept that the divine mystery cannot be experienced in a way that makes sense to my brain; the divine is infinite; and my brain is finite. So, from here I stop. I stop trying to cognitively grasp the infinite and rather try to understand what it means to be the mystery, experiencing the world as an imagined someone. What do I find when I look underneath the veil of my thoughts? Silence. An incredibly still, quiet, point of awareness and consciousness. What do I find when I become still and inquire without jumping at the next thought? I find mystery. Mystery beyond the limited perspective of my mind. And mystery beyond the fleeting concepts I once referred to as My Life, My Self, My Beliefs, My Relationships and Reality. My desire to understand the world has been given truth and my mind’s living architecture, given the opportunity to wander subjectively. Life is good.