Lessons in Surrendering

 

Los Jaguares Eco retreat near Tulum was so wonderful. Our hosts, Fausto and Claire were very sweet and welcoming people. We enjoyed "roughing it" in what they called "glam-ping" cabanas. We had beds with mosquito netting, a flushing toilet, wifi, outdoor nature showers (except one morning when no water was present...oh well!) and lots of jungle critters to keep us company. 

It was a refreshing change of pace from all of the sounds, people and traffic of the cities. 

Upon arrival, we were given a little tour of the property. There was a lovely fresh water pool, lots of hammocks, an outdoor kitchen, several cabanas, fruit gardens, a jungly labyrinth and an earthen temezcal, or sweat lodge. They told us that one of the residents was seasoned in leading group sweats, so we attended a group sweat with him on the second night of our stay. 

This was my second sweat ceremony, and the first one in Mexican style. Much of the tradition was similar to the one that we attended in November on Vancouver island with a local First Nations shaman-elder. On the island, and in the native tradition, it is customary for women to wear long dresses and be covered up. Here we all had on our swimsuits. After a very hot, sweaty day, when the darkness set in, we gathered around the ceremonial fire where the stones, or abuelitas (little grandmothers), as they are referred to, were heated until red hot. We said prayers and gave thanks to our ancestors and to the natural world around us. We filed into the hut and sat on a bed of fresh, leafy branches from a tree that I can't recall the name of, but it smelled wonderful. 

The ceremony was about 2 hours long and consisted of music, chanting, prayers, offerings, cleansing and lots of emotion and special connection. There are four parts, or doors, of the ceremony where the flap is opened up and 13 additional hot stones are added to the center of the circle inside, and each stone is verbally welcomed in as it is placed on top of the pile.  It was so lovely to experience the various traditions all coming together. There were about 10 people from various countries and we all shared the desire to cleanse and reflect inward upon our own mental and emotional blockages. I have found both sweats quite challenging, especially at the beginning part, where I have to convince myself to physically go into a hot, dark cave with a group of sweaty people that I don't know. The shaman reminds us that we are all in there healing together and that everyone is facing their own challenges. After a while, my mind settles and it is very pleasant and rejuvenating. Afterward, we filed out and showered ourselves with cool fresh water using a coconut shell, and then gather for a light meal. I look forward to another temezcal experience soon. Each one is different!

The next morning while it's still relatively cool, we go for a trek down the cleared path into the jungle for a medicinal plant walk with a local Mayan man named Umberto. He speaks Spanish and Mayan, and with our pocket dictionary, intense listening skills and lots of humor, we manage to learn a lot about the plants and about each other. He shows us lots of useful plants and describes how they are used for headaches, tooth aches, snake bites, skin rashes, cuts, and lots of other handy things. At one point, we can hear and see the trees shaking and swaying amongst the busy bustling of monkeys. We can't see them, but we know they are there. 

Umberto told us that his grandfather lived off of the land in the area and thrived on a life of simple hunting and gathering and using herbal medicines until the beautiful age of 110 years. He said no junk food, just wild foods! No eye glasses, no diseases. Only healthy people. A good reminder of what has happened to our "food" system in the last century.  We could have enjoyed these lessons all day, but we had to be on our way to our next destination southward in Bacalar, Quintana Roo on the second largest lake Mexico, Laguna Bacalar. We would like to return to Los Jaguares again soon, we feel like there is more that is yet to be experienced there. 

We arrived at Villas Ecotucan just outside of Bacalar and checked in for a stay in a jungle cabana. This place was a very lovely setting. It had just rained for a few days and the humidity level was sky high. Our tile floors and bed sheets were very wet. It made for some chilly sleeping conditions. The mosquito netting on both beds had large tears, so we patched it up the best we could. The mosquito netting was crucial. The mosquitoes were thick there after all of the moisture, which we were told was very unseasonal. I sure donated my fair share of blood to those tiny vampires. It was a bit frustrating, as I would have preferred to spend more time outdoors, but the itching ad scratching was over the top! 

In the mornings, I awoke to flocks of green parrots socializing in the trees. They returned each evening at sundown too. We enjoyed a swim in the cool, clear water of the lake, accompanied by one of the several resident pups. We were happy to move on from there, away from the mosquitoes. We originally planned to head south through Guatemala and loop back up to Merida while stopping at various Mayan ruins. However, the weather forecast was more rain. More mosquitoes. More damp clothing. So we rerouted back toward the west side of the peninsula to sunnier (and less popular) beaches. Half way across, we stopped at a rural coffee shop for a break. A man stood outside having a cigarette and asked where we were from and where we were headed. He told us that the citizens of the state of Campeche were revolting against the development of their land by outsiders and to show their disapproval to the government, they were barricading the main roads into the state. Hmmmm. We didn't see that coming. We thanked him and chose an alternate and more remote route through the jungle and through many tiny pueblos. It turned out that the road we chose was under some pretty serious upgrading conditions. I wish I had taken a video. It was quite a ride. Here is a snapshot of the highway modernization. 

After a very long, hot day and plentiful  bumpy tope speed bumps, we made it to Ciudad Campeche and found a hotel for the night. The next morning we decided to head for a small beach town on the north coast of Yucatan. It's pretty busy and touristy, but it's hot and sunny and sandy and the sound of the ocean is so calming to my soul. We have spent today resting in the sunshine and exploring more bits and pieces of Mexican culture including mercados, zapaterias to find some sandals, and the laundry mat. I tried to find a place where I could wash our laundry all week between the little remote villages, but I finally gave in and dropped it at a lavanderia down the block where they wash and fold it for you (I also gained a few stray men's tees that I will have to return to the shop mañana).  

Seems to be a very common cultural thing here: everyone having someone else do everything for everyone. Pumping your gas. Helping you to park in a public place. Selling you toilet paper squares. 

There are SO many little cultural differences. Like the scented toilet paper everywhere. I even had my own normal TP in my pocket yesterday when we stopped at a rest stop on the highway. A woman ran over to the washroom door with a key and said "tres pesos". I said "tengo mi papel" and showed her my private stash.  She shook her head no and said "tres pesos" as she unlocked the washroom door and handed me a heap of perfumed paper with blue hearts printed on it. Self-sufficiency is not a thing here. Service is a very big thing here. Learning, learning, learning. Tres pesos at a time. 

A Phoenix Rising

(Note: I left the photos out of this post so that you could imagine all of this for yourself. Except the plant itself. You have to see the plant. Oh, and maybe get a cup of tea or coffee. This is a long one.)

In the Amazon jungle grows a wild and gnarly vine called Ayahuasca, aka "the soul vine". It has been used by shamans for many hundreds (maybe even thousands?) of years to call in the spirits of nature to guide humans to a higher understanding of themselves and the intricate workings of the universe. Last week I had the opportunity to partake in an Ayahuasca ceremony. It was a wild ride that I will never forget. Ever. 

Two shamans, one a local First Nations elder and one a gringo shaman working with traditional Amazonian shamanism knowledge, led the ceremony, which lasted nearly five hours. Likely the longest five hours of my life. As I write this, my heart is thumping, my guts rumbling and I feel a shiver with a deep chill, as the plant medicine resides within me many days after the ceremony has ended.

Ayahuasca takes us deep within our own psyche to face our fears, overcome our inner obstacles and test our limits, as well as to impart wisdom and new ways of being upon us. Every participant will experience a unique adventure and it will be different each time that this plant medicine is consumed.

Here is my recollection of my first journey down the Ayahuasca rabbit hole...

A group of six participants and two shamans gathered into a cozy room with large windows on two sides. Before we began, both shamans opened cases filled with jars containing various dried plants and carefully laid out feathers and instruments of all kinds, as well as their ceremonial pipes.  

 The two shamans smudged us (and the cat who joined in) with special perfumes and smoked herbs to purify us for the sacred ceremony. It was nightfall and we all hunkered down into piles of pillows and blankets as we anticipated the start of the ceremony. We had followed specific dietary and lifestyle guidelines for the week leading up to this night. The plant medicine does not react well with competing elements. It is referred to as a jealous plant medicine.

We were advised to refrain from speaking or touching anyone else during the ceremony and to try our best to avoid leaving the ceremony, other than to use the washroom. We were all given our very own "purging pail", as vomiting is a common side effect.

I was the only newbie in the room and I was told that first-timers get a half dose of the plant medicine, as to ease into the journey. We all took our turn receiving the elixir and most people cringed as they choked down the harsh tasting fluid. After I swallowed it I said to the shaman "huh! It's not nearly as awful as I thought it would be!"  He replied with a smirk, "Just wait until you're vomiting it up all night long." Alrighty then. This should be interesting, I thought. Too late to turn back now...

Once all eight of us had drank the medicine, the lights were turned out and we reclined into our pillow nests to enjoy the ceremony in complete darkness. The shamans invoked the spirit guides and began to drum and chant in foreign tongues.

After about 20 or 30 minutes, my body began to tingle all over and I felt myself yawning and getting a bit sleepy. One of the shamans called each of us up, one at a time, to have a private ceremony where he sang, chanted and played various instruments to help each of us with our individual journey. I was called up second in line. As soon as I stood up, I felt like I was inside a big ship, rocking around on the ocean waves. I reached for my bucket, just in case, even though I wasn't at all queasy. I sat down in the darkness, knee-to-knee with the shaman as he lit some dried herbs to smudge me with. I immediately got an intense rumbling in my lower abdomen and awkwardly told him that I needed a washroom break immediately. He said he could wait for me, so I dashed toward the glass patio door with bucket in hand. 

I stumbled to the outdoor washroom, the pathway and interior illuminated by party-style rope lighting. As I entered, all of the harmless spiders in their webs that I had noticed before the ceremony, had suddenly become animated and intimidating. The washroom seemed to hum with the sound of these spiders spinning webs and creeping about the room. There was one jumbo spider in particular who I found very off-putting. He was the size of a quarter and red and yellow striped. He lurked in his huge, woven masterpiece next to the toilet. I made it to the toilet just in time. As I sat there, I felt my body cool off to an uncomfortable temperature. I began to shake and tremble like nothing I had ever experienced before. I felt as though I was under a spell. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of being surrounded by spiders, I had a moment of clarity, snapped back to the task at hand, and made my way back into the ceremony building. 

I sat back down in front of the shaman. He proceeded to light more dried herbs and blow the smoke around me. He mumbled something and then I heard him reach for two rattles in the darkness. Simultaneously, he and the other shaman broke into wild chanting and rattling. I instantly felt my guts twisting and churning. I still had my bucket, though I didn't feel the need to use it. Throughout the song, I heard the voice of a friend who had given me a deep tissue acupressure massage earlier that day. He said "BREATHE! Remember to keep breathing." So I did. I briefly opened my eyes to see the faint silhouette of the shaman literally rattling me to the core, as he wildly waved his arms around me. When the rattling ended, he spoke a few more phrases and reached for a pair of eagle's wings. I could hear the ruffling of the huge feathers. He also used an eagle bone as a whistle that sounded eerily like an eagle's cry. I was swept away in a torrent of flapping wings and a powerful breeze that took my breath away. It was beyond surreal. Lastly, the shaman took both of my hands into his and wrapped his warm palms around my icy fingers. He said a prayer to thank the plant medicine for guiding both of us. I thanked him and then made a beeline for the door. I stepped out into the crisp night air and was caught off guard by the loud echoing call of two owls in the dark trees before me. Then a third bird chimed in. It sounded very lonely and almost like it was dying. A swan? Then I laughed and shook my head because I was sure that the other shaman and his assistant were playing mind tricks on me by making creepy noises in the woods. 

I stumbled once more to the outdoor washroom and felt extremely weak as I wrestled with the door that had deer antler handles (that part is real). I was greeted this time by a spider dangling right in front of the toilet and a few earwigs scrambling on the floor, walls and mirror. Ugh. I felt disgusted, but was so ill that I didn't care. I sat there shaking violently as though I were riding a mechanical bull. Was this an exorcism, I wondered? If so, thank goodness! Better out than in!

Again, I achieved a brief moment of clarity and remembered that I should head back inside. The two owls faded away into the distance and as I stepped into the ceremony space, I heard the two men who I had suspected were lurking in the woods. They were right in the same spot that they were when I left. Those were some seriously bizarre bird calls then. I wondered what they were saying to me...

I laid back down in my nest of bean bags and blankets. I buried myself in as many blankets as were within arms reach. I was also wearing sheepskin boots over wool socks, pants, a flannel shirt and a down vest. It was probably about 15 degrees in the room (or for Americans, about 65F or something) but I was certain that hypothermia had me in its grip. I just couldn't stop shaking. 

My own breath felt like a cold Arctic wind on my fingers. I twisted and turned and wriggled around to try to find a warmer position. 

I then rationalized that people don't typically freeze to death in temperatures that warm. Duh.

Meanwhile, in between the seven private one-on-one ceremonies, the shamans performed song after song with drums, chanting (sometimes in a language that seemed like gibberish), and many instruments. There was rarely a break in the music for more than a couple of minutes.

Before long, I felt another rumbling in my belly. I felt like I was in the movie Groundhog's Day. Again?! I begrudgingly wrestled the unnaturally heavy pile of blankets off of me and headed for the door with my bucket. When I reached the washroom, the insects and spiders had appeared to multiply! I felt as though they were having a great time laughing at my expense. Can they actually do that? Cracking themselves up over humans that are silly and uncomfortable around them? Who knows. This time, as I sat there in the cold outhouse, I set the bucket down on the floor and laughed. I suddenly got the message that I was different. Just because everyone else was vomiting into buckets didn't mean that I had to follow suit. My body had a different evacuation plan - obviously!

I went outside and looked up at the clear, starry sky and felt super dizzy. I spun my feet around in circles and decided that I had better go back in and lay down before I got myself lost in the woods. The medicine seemed to have hit a peak of intensity and I was seriously questioning my own judgement.  I crawled into my nest and bundled up. I continued to shake violently. I then felt like someone was laying on my legs...but they weren't. Just another trick. A friend who laid next to me stood up with a blanket around his shoulders like a cape. His silhouette appeared 12 feet high and I was sure he was either Batman or Zorro. Or both. Multiple times. The old tabby cat was hunkered down next to me most of the night. His purring sounded like a machine gun and I could feel it vibrating all of the cells in my body.

The event lasted nearly five hours. My entire being felt so relieved when the shamans closed the ceremony around 3 am, and the room became quiet. Then the talking and laughing began. We all shared our experiences. Most of us were still feeling heavily influenced by the plant medicine. All of my senses felt like they were on steroids. I mentioned that I felt like I was going to freeze to death, so everyone piled more blankets and several sheep skins on top of me. Ahh. Just right. I later realized that I had no verbal filter and words just kept pouring from my mouth for the next couple of hours as I struggled to feel any hint of comfort. Apparently, some of the things that I said were hilarious to some people in the room. I also think some of the other things that I said may have been labeled as rude. I felt as though I was a puppet, possessed by the plant spirits. Eventually, people trickled out of the room and I fell asleep amongst a few friends. When I opened my eyes and saw the light of day, I was stunned and also thrilled to have survived the longest night of my life! Yahooooo! I made it!!!!!

I, myself, was strongly affected the entire next day. I had an ayahuasca hangover. With a lot more toilet time, a severe headache... and even some vomit bucket time. I laid most of the day on our futon, feeling heavy with the medicine. My heart pounding. I was chilled to the bone. I gazed out the window at the trees and just barely forced out a  smile. I had faced my ego head on. I experienced what utter helplessness felt like. I learned that the spiders and creepy crawlers were here to teach me to relax and let go, not to harass me. I learned that I am different. Not a follower. I learned greater patience and to just go with the flow. Suddenly, everything I face each day seems so much simpler. I find myself laughing at my thoughts and actions and at the follies of all humans. 

The spiders are still with me though. Every day. In lots of ways. When I least expect them. I think I had better get used to it. They outnumber me billions to one.

Look for an ayahuasca ceremony near you. Worth every penny!