What it's like to be Source

An odyssey with Ayahuasca

“My intention is to ask Mother Ayahuasca to help me release all that no longer serves me.” These are the words I said just before the second ceremony began, I was sitting on my cot in the dark, preparing to receive la medicina. When it was my turn to come up, Jesús Hidalgo, our lead facilitator and medicine man, gave me more than twice the dose he had last night. Last night, I didn’t do it right. I wasn’t ready, so he gave me an introductory dose. I purged only a little bit the first night and had so much fun with the music. I thought I had given respect, and I had in my own way, given my capacity at the time.

But this night, the hot brew was implacable. This particular vintage of Ayahuasca tastes a bit like licorice and NyQuil with a kicker of tobacco. It is gross, but not as gross as some people make it out to be.

The come up started almost instantly for some, they began purging within ten minutes, and the music hadn’t even started yet. For a time, I was grateful this wasn’t me. But my time would come.

As with most psychedelics, my body began tingling and lightening all over, and I knew it was coming. I had hoped for a pleasant journey, but earlier that day, sadness and anger came up, and I was feeling jittery and sick. Kedar, another main facilitator and musician told me this is normal between ceremonies. The first ceremony merely scraped off the top layer, but the real work was just below.

My come up ended hard and fast, with the sudden agony of realizing the monumental pain I was in. “I’m so disconnected!” I don’t think I said those word out loud but I might have. Another facilitator had to visit me later and ask me not to use words, only sounds.

It was like the feeling of panic when I was a small child and realized that I had lost my mom in a department store. That pure, unadulterated mortal panic of I’m lost. But it wasn’t just from my mom, it was from nature, humanity, everything.

This purging was so intense and overwhelming, I felt it wouldn’t stop. All I could do was whimper “Ow” and at one point I was “looping” meaning that I was caught in that experience, until Jesus came and helped me breathe. “Just breathe, slow!” He appeared and disappeared like a cloud.

I was tired, so tired, so I lay back down and the next phase began. Jesús had let us know that we might be asked to let go of parts of ourselves, even those we had identified with deeply, and that it would feel like dying. This was next.

“What if we let go of this?” I said to myself, and one by one, I showed myself every bit of my identity. I am not a writer, I am not a storyteller, I am not an intellectual, I am not a problem solver. One by one I tearfully let these things go, because holding on to them hurt more. And each time, I just smiled. It’s so easy, the easiest thing to just let them go! I smiled and waved, and it continued. At times I was confused—what else do you want me to let go of? Ah! Confusion itself! I am not confused! Wow! I didn’t know I could let go of that!

One by one, bit by bit, every aspect of self was let go. I am not a man! I am not a husband! I am not a human… whoa… I am not mortal, I am not alive… all these trappings, just words, just labels we attach to ourselves… And what was left at the end of letting go of everything?

I am witness.

That is all that is left, “Observe” Jesús would say. I notice, I see, I feel. These, these are true, something irrepressible and unavoidable. Why do we see rather than not see? Because Source says so! Duh!

By now, the music was picking back up, the entire experience curated like a maestro conducting the orchestra, for that’s what we were, all participants and conductors, as we were all channeling Source. I had offered up the full contents of my stomach and every shred of my identity, and thus unencumbered, I returned to Source! Being apart from Source is pure agony, but my number was called and I was back. When I decided to come to this ceremony, that was Source calling me home. I’d had enough time away from Source.

“Welcome back!” I said with the biggest grin on my face, “Hello!” Source remembered itself. Source had forgotten for a while, and Source always forgets itself, but then Source also always remembers itself. What a silly thing to do! But it’s okay!

It was as if the joy of Christmas and birthdays and homecomings were all wrapped into one, and bit by bit, I welcomed everything back home! The absolute rapture of being reunited with Source, with myself, I simply wiggled with pleasure and delight and greeted everything in the universe back to me, back to us. As the music reached a Crescendo, I saw myself dancing and singing endlessly, caught in the flow of Source. “Just keep dancing, just keep singing! That’s all there is!”

But then Source had many thoughts. Source had invented so many cool things! Emotions! Confusion! Mountains! Source wondered “What would it be like to be the Rocky Mountains?” And I was! It was incredible! The triumph and majesty, I felt my lungs puff up at the immense power of the mountain! And then I saw Grandfather Banyan tree, so mighty and serious, another manifestation of Source, providing homes to all the shrimp and amphibians, and then I saw the pyramids and I remembered a poem my wife had written, The Opening of the Mouth, which was about the perspective of the pyramids and the loss of his people.

And Source was sad! So long ago, the pyramids were abandoned, forgot their original purpose. The long path of decay, as the moon and stars and sun wheel overhead, and then the famous words of Leto Atreides popped into Source’s head, “Here I stand… Here I remain.” YES! That is what it’s like to by the pyramids! Here I stand, here I remain! Wow! I invented that! SO FUCKING COOL!

But what else did I invent? My guts twisted and I had some heartburn. Indigestion! What a thing to invent! Why would I invent such a silly thing? And then I saw the cows and the rodents and the babies, and that indigestion was there to tell them “Buddy, you ate something you weren’t supposed to! That’s so sad! You thought this thing would make you feel good but it made you feel sick! That sucks!”

Ah, so Source did it for a reason. Source does everything for a reason, even if it sometimes forgets. Source had been very happy and high for a while, but now became more curious about everything else it invented. Source thought of a squirrel caught in a forest fire, and said “I’m so sorry! That is terrible and awful! Truly, I am deeply sorry…” and Source felt into the squirrel—what was it like in those final moments of panic, trying in vain to hide in the burrow as the entire world went up in an inferno around me? Panic, fear, heat and then… “Welcome home!” I came back to Source again.

Then my thoughts spiraled, with no particular content or direction, my mind felt like a bag of rocks, with all the motility and purpose of nothing. It was as though I was just pawing at a rock wall with soft hands and making no progress, but then, I came back to Source! “Wow! So that’s what it’s like to be stuck! So cool!”

We examined everything we’d invented: evolution, life, stars, ecosystems, empires, and it was all so cool! But wait… Source is the author of all this! We can write anything we want! The good and the bad, it’s all on us! We are the curators of our own experience, whatever we want to feel or be or do, we merely ask Source, “Hey, what’s up with this?”

Source wills it.

Then I saw where Source rejects itself, I am Source and I rejected myself, and that was the source of pain. That doesn’t make any sense? Why would Source do this? It doesn’t feel good and why reject yourself when the whole point is to come back to Source? Ah, they will come back in due time, they are on their own mission, away from Source, and they will bring back their experiences to me, us, we, all. I saw the sick people in my life, my role as a communicator, and the moments when I’ve channeled Source and the moments I’ve forgotten to be Source. So neat! We keep coming back to ourselves!

By now, I had been smiling and laughing for quite some time, but time also doesn’t really matter. Source doesn’t really keep track of time. One thought or memory connects to all other times. All the while, my bowels were loose and threatening to overflow, what some call the “shamanic colonic” and yes, Source even invented diarrhea. What a thing to invent! But then I had been worried about my diverticulitis the whole time, that maybe this would hurt my intestines, but instead, it was a super power! I was able to hold it the whole night! The whole seven hours! Source didn’t want me to miss a single thing! And I remembered when it all begin, when I was a little boy visiting my grandfather’s house and my guts hurt so bad, they left me on the couch to fend for myself while they all drank and danced and partied. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you!” I suddenly realized, Source had curated this experience, what had started more than three decades earlier was all in service to this experience, my chronic gut problems actually enabled me to witness this whole experience without interruption!

“Thank you intestines! You’re doing so good! I’m so proud of you!” And then I saw children taking the stage for the first time, and felt like a baby bird trying to take flight, and I suddenly felt what every creature feels when it steps into a new world; trepidation, fear, overwhelm. “Mom, is this okay?”

“Yes sweetie! This is your time to shine! I’m so, so, so proud of you! You are perfect and beautiful and you played your part well!” There are no mistakes and there are no accidents. Even when we fall and hurt ourselves and feel like the pain is overwhelming—this experience is perfect! Source knows best. Source says so.

We were near the end of the ceremony now, and my body was languid, I had been curled up tightly, then flat on my back, and now heat was rising. “Why am I hot? Ah, Source wants me to open up.” So I kicked off my blanked and sprawled on my cot. Just breathe. The icy coolness of the air coming in through my nose was such a sweet balm. I rediscovered my hands and feet, my adequate implements, that have built empires and computers and AI. These hands can point at the moon, build a house, or destroy a life, just another wonderful invention of Source…

This is my necessary configuration.

Jesús was telling the stories of the universe, the four elements, and of the anaconda slithering through the Everglades. My body was called to action, and I offered shuddering breaths, I was the susurrus of wind in the reeds, adding my voice to the enchanted story. The story and my sighs subsided.

The ceremony was closed now, but I stayed on my cot, too heavy to move, for quite some time. People were moving around, talking, laughing. I heard stories being shared, sobs and sighs, and I didn’t want to be apart from this experience. For that’s what it all comes down to; Source will experience everything. There were experiences that we were not ready for this time, that we shied away from. Eventually, Austin, the founder of the retreat, came to visit me, “Brother, how are you?”

“Ugghhhhhh.” I said with a light playfulness. He laughed and said something to the effect of “Good work.” I burst out laughing, “Source is happy! Well done!” He smiled, patted my knee, and moved on. He was channeling Source. Source had put me here to have this experience, and Source remembered itself through me, and we had all curated, co-created this experience, this brush with Source together.

I rested a long while more, but around midnight, Source said it was time to say goodbye to this experience. The sun was setting on this way of being, and it was time to take care of the vessel that had held the experience. Source gave me the energy to stand, and I went to the bathroom, finally to release all that was left. Then there was the shower, which was hard to get the temperature right. “Not too hot, not too cold. Source says so.”

I got the temperature right and cleansed myself. After a while, I started feeling nauseous and shaky again, so I sat down. Source was receding now, letting me figure things out for myself. I replayed the night, from my first words to taking the medicine, to the purging and the closure. I remembered what it was like to be Source, to be the mountain, the pyramid.

“Here I stand, here I remain!” Such a grandiose and powerful experience. I pumped my arms as I remembered the power.

“Okay body, are we ready? Yes.” I reached up and shut off the shower, took my meds, chewed up some Pepto tablets, turned off the electric tea lights, and climbed into bed. Thoughts swirled for a while and I realized the Source still had some dots to connect, but that we were getting close to bed.

“Hi brain and body, are we ready to sleep now? Almost? Okay. Good night, Source.”

This text cannot do the experience justice, but this is just one piece of Source remembering itself in a vast symphony of players. Source, or God, or the Absolute, whatever you call it, whatever word resonates with you, we will all return to Source one day, and it will be like going home to pure love and joy and excitement. To be Source is quite a wild ride. We will forget ourselves again and again, with endless experiences of pain and delight, but we will always remember ourselves, too.

---

This experience was facilitated by Ceremonia Circle, I had been personally invited by Austin, the founder, to this special retreat. As they say, Ayahuasca is not for the faint of heart, it was quite an ordeal. If this experience does not resonate with you, then it’s not for you, or you’re not ready. If it does resonate, then I would personally recommend a psilocybin retreat first. This is a good entry point, and not nearly as intnese. There is generally no purging, la purga, with psilocybin and some people to still contact Source and achieve pure bliss. I’ve seen it firsthand. My wish is that at least one person who reads this finds that it kicks them into action, and they get the experience that they want and need.

Thank you for reading.

P.S. I made this song about my wife’s experience at our psilocybin retreat.