To Love and Let Go

by Rachel Brathen

  The next morning I practiced yoga on a big deck overlooking the rain forest. Kim was a Kundalini teacher and she guided me through some deeper breath work. We spent the day walking the grounds and hiking to the ocean for a swim, waiting for sunset for the ceremony to begin.

  With the sun low on the horizon, I dressed in white, increasingly nervous as the time approached. By then I’d learned more about what was ahead: The ayahuasca vine, the plant itself, is boiled in water for several days until it reduces to a thick, syrupy substance. The “tea” is potent and very powerful. Some of the participants shared stories of visiting other dimensions, or horror-like visions and nightmarish experiences after they took it. The idea was to move through the fear to light and freedom. I remembered what the chocolate shaman told me: There is nothing to fear. There is only love.

  At sunset, I walked to a huge open-air space where the ceremony was to take place. Hammocks hung from the wooden ceiling, which I thought was strange. The man who had translated for me the night before introduced himself as Rodrigo, the shaman’s interpreter and our guide. “You are Raquel, yes?” he asked in Spanish. I often introduced myself as Raquel when I spoke Spanish. “This will be your hammock,” he said, pointing to a blue and green hammock hanging from a wooden beam. “No, that’s okay,” I said. I was fluent in Spanish and grateful for my time immersed in the language. I politely declined. “I don’t need a hammock. I like to move around.” I had envisioned myself drinking the ayahuasca tea and being overcome with movement and spirit, dancing around the room. “No, amor.” Rodrigo smiled, but I couldn’t read his expression. “No vas a mover. La medicina, te paraliza,” he said. “Te paraliza??” I said. Did I understand him correctly? The medicine would paralyze me?

  I felt a tightening of my chest. Ayahuasca paralyzes you? I’m going to willingly drink a tea that will turn me into a vegetable? I panicked. Leaving Rodrigo midsentence, I ran from the deck out onto a path leading toward the jungle. After a few minutes I found a log and sat down. What had I gotten myself into? My chest was heaving. As I looked up at a golden sky I heard a voice say, “Trust!” It was stern and came from deep within my chest. The hair on my arms stood up. How could I possibly trust when I was so fearful? I wondered. Well, I hadn’t traveled this far just to turn around and leave. I decided the only way to find out was to dive in.

  Back on the deck, others were starting to gather. In the middle of the space was a huge firepit along with crystals, sage, and a big pot containing what I assumed was the medicine. Pitchers of water with ylang-ylang flowers sat nearby. The shaman was already seated, with his eyes closed and his head bowed. When Rodrigo saw me he took my hand. “Trust,” he said. My eyes widened. “Trust that you are here for a reason.” Hearing him repeat the very same word that had just brought me back from panic calmed me completely. He guided me to my hammock. “If at any point during the night you need anything whatsoever—support, help, or if you need to throw up, anything at all—just call my name,” he said. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.” Other participants had told me about the purging ayahuasca induced; it was common to vomit. The ceremony was to last from sundown to sunrise.

  The air was electric and everyone seemed riveted. I was about to step into my hammock when Kim walked over. “I have something for you,” she said, handing me a string of pale pink crystals. “Listen. There will be a point during the night when you will be certain you are going to die,” she said. “You can’t escape it. When that happens, move into Child’s Pose and pray. Pray to God, to the Universe, to Great Spirit—pray to everything you believe in. Keep the crystals with you. They’ll help. Ask for divine guidance. Ask God to save you.” I was terrified. At one point I am going to be certain I’m going to die? What am I getting myself into? Kim rubbed lavender oil on my wrists. “The crystals and the oil will help you,” she said. “Just trust.” There was that word again. I closed my eyes and held on to the crystals. Taking a deep breath, I climbed into the hammock.

  The shaman began chanting and drumming. There were a few more than twenty of us, each person suspended in a hammock hanging from the ceiling. The drumming intensified, and my breath became slow and steady. For what felt like a long time, I lay back in the hammock and watched the sky turn a golden, fiery orange. The drums, the smell of smoke from the fire, and the shaman’s chant were all so mesmerizing, I felt like I was in a daze. I don’t know how much time had passed but it was dark out when Rodrigo finally guided me to the fire. I took a seat in front of the shaman. He was seated on the ground, eyes closed, chanting feverishly. Someone holding a giant bundle of burning sage spoke in a language I didn’t recognize. The shaman spat and gurgled as his chants grew louder. Abruptly, he stopped. He opened his eyes and looked at me. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. He gave me a nod, then took a wooden ladle and stirred the pot. Ayahuasca. The medicine. He spooned some into a coconut shell and handed it to me. It was brownish black and as thick as molasses. He nodded as if to say “Go on.” I gulped down the brew. It was so bitter I had to fight the urge to spit it right out. Rodrigo handed me a glass of ylang-ylang water. “Don’t swallow it. It’s just to clean the mouth,” he said. I took a healthy swig, swirled it around in my mouth, and spat it out. What now? I wondered. Rodrigo guided me back to my hammock and I climbed in. They had told me it would take several hours for the effects to kick in, but just as with the cacao, I felt something move inside of me almost immediately.

  At first I couldn’t pinpoint what was happening, except that I started feeling overwhelmed. I tried to relax and focus on my breathing, but something inside of me was moving, and not in a good way. The breeze moving through the trees that was so gentle and soothing just a second ago started sounding like a thunderstorm. The rhythmic beat of the drums that I’d enjoyed moments earlier made me feel tense. I heard what sounded like killer waves crashing all around me. The ayahuasca, I thought. It’s working.

  The sounds around me grew louder and louder. The sound of the ocean, which I knew was a far trek away, became so loud I thought my eardrums might burst. I covered my ears, trying to block out the noise. The heat from the lavender oil that Kim had rubbed on my wrists started burning my skin. The air seemed to be frying my face. Everything became so intense so quickly and I realized: this is going to be a trip. I had been very naive going into this, thinking I’d make my way toward some sort of enlightenment. Instead, what I was getting was a full-blown acid trip gone wrong. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore were so loud by now that I felt a tangible pain pierce my brain. Covering my ears with my hands seemed to make it worse, and the heat of the oil emanating from my wrists made my skin actually sizzle, as if it were on fire. No, I could actually smell it. My skin was burning. I started to panic. I’m not going to make it through this, I thought. The realization brought with it a complete sense of terror. The trip was supposed to last all night long, all the way until sunrise, and we had just started. This is just the beginning. There is no way I’ll make it through. The fear I felt welling up inside of me in that moment was worse than anything I’d ever experienced in my life. It was the feeling of absolute, gut-wrenching regret and a fear so intense I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into, but I knew I was heading somewhere really, really bad. I remembered what Kim had said and threw myself on the floor and into Child’s Pose. The cool tile felt good against my burning hands. I tried to pray. I tried to remember all the good in the world, but I was too exposed, too vulnerable. The sounds surrounding me now were like something out of a horror movie. Lying in Child’s Pose, I heard something over by my side. It sounded like critters making their way toward me. I tried to turn my head to look, and in that instant I realized—I was frozen. I tried to move my hands. I couldn’t. I tried to get off the floor but my body wasn’t cooperating. I was paralyzed. What was it Rodrigo had said? “Te paraliza”—It will paralyze you. I screamed for him. He had promised he’d be there. “Rodrigo!” I cried. “Help me! . . . Rodrigo! I ca
n’t move! . . . Rodrigooooooo!!!!!!!!” Nothing. No one came. It was as if I were all alone in the whole world. I was on my own. Why had I left the safety of my hammock? At least there I was cocooned, safe, but now here I was on the stone floor, exposed to all the dangers of the world. I had made a huge mistake. All of this had been a huge mistake.

  In the midst of the horror I heard what sounded like a million cockroaches scattering across the floor. I hate cockroaches and now armies of them were descending on me, crawling over my body and in my hair. I was so immersed in the terror of the situation that I could no longer think about it or objectively assess it—it was 100 percent happening. It was as real as the tile floor beneath me and there was no way to escape. The cockroaches were everywhere. Some made their way into my ears and gnawed into my skull. I could hear them, feel them, smell them. Some crawled up my nose. I was choking on them. I got the urge to vomit as I felt their prickly little legs scatter up and down my throat, but I was chained to the floor. I couldn’t move. The next thing I knew I saw dead bodies closing in on me. They were zombie-like, with bones poking through their skin and pieces of flesh hanging from their faces. I could smell the stench of their decay. I sensed that they were desperate to be saved.

  The horrors kept coming: spiders with hairy legs and sharp teeth, alien animals, sticky, green vines poking through the floor and wrapping around my ankles to pull me under the soil. All around me was a thick, black mist that made it hard for me to breathe. Worst of all was the all-consuming panic of knowing that I wasn’t going to make it out alive. A snake raised up, revealing razor-sharp teeth. This is the moment I’m going to die, I thought. I cried for Rodrigo again. “Rodrigo!!! Ayúdame!” I had been on the floor for many hours now, enduring the most terrifying, abhorring things. Things I could never have imagined. It was all real. There was no part of me doubting that. It was happening, right here, right now. Suddenly, in the midst of it, out of nowhere, I heard Rodrigo’s voice. “Do you need my help?” he asked. “Yes, of course I need your help!” I replied, panicked. “Can’t you see I’m dying? I need to get off the floor!” Since I couldn’t move, Rodrigo picked me up. He carried me to a sofa in a corner of the room. For a split second I thought the nightmare was over and that I was going to live, but the visions came back with a vengeance: the cockroaches, the decayed bodies, the spiders, the vines, the black mist, the snake—everything at once. All my worst nightmares wrapped up into one hellish experience, enveloped in the knowing that my death was imminent. Getting off the floor had been my one longing, my way out, but now that I was off it I realized it didn’t help. There was no way out. I was too exhausted to scream and became overwhelmed with a feeling of hopelessness. I just couldn’t fight anymore. If I’m going to die, I might as well stop fighting, I thought. I felt death around the corner; it was so close. I knew I wasn’t going to make it out alive. I give up, I thought. I surrender. I let go. And so . . . I did.

  Instead of fighting the terrors happening to me, I invited them. I stopped resisting and instead allowed everything to come my way—if there was ever the embodiment of “letting go,” this was it. I started welcoming all the horrors. And here is the thing: the moment I let go, the moment I gave in to death, everything changed. It was literally as if I’d flipped a switch—everything went from darkness to sudden bright, shining light. The cockroaches all turned into a flock of white doves and flew away. The vines sprouted into beautiful, long-stemmed daisies. The decaying bodies healed into my loved ones: my sister, my best friend, my grandmother. The snake morphed into my puppy, Quila, wagging her tail. The thick, suffocating mist that had enshrouded me was now a warm, white light and I was glowing from the inside out. Bathed in the light, I felt as if I were in the presence of God. No, I was not just in the presence of God. I was God. There was no difference between us anymore, no separation. I was in the midst of the most intense spiritual awakening of my entire life. All those years I had spent resisting the dark had kept me from the light. The pain isn’t the problem, the problems aren’t the problem. The resistance is. I felt myself exhale away years, eons, lifetimes of suffering. Everything I’d ever been through had brought me here. All that was left was love. I stayed there, bathing in light, for what felt like an infinite time. It is very hard to put into words the experience I had of surrendering. I’ve read about it in spiritual texts, but I had never fully understood what it meant to be free. I was whole. At peace. One with God.

  When I finally opened my eyes it felt like years had passed. I had become a mother and a grandmother and so many lives had passed, but yet, I was just born. The concept of time seemed very strange. The sun was rising and the sky looked like it was painted in wide brushstrokes of pink, orange, a golden yellow. Someone created that, I thought. But it was more than a thought, it was an understanding. At the same instant I realized: I created that. There was no separation between God and me, or between God and any of us. I was alone, but I’d never been more together in my life. I got up and walked barefoot out onto the grass. I looked down and saw the most beautiful shapes moving below me. What are these magical things? I thought. It took a while for it to register. My feet! My feet were tan and a little dirty, with tiny blond hairs sprouting from the tops of my toes. I’d never seen something so precious, so beautiful. How were these my feet? I wondered. Have I had these feet all along? I was filled with unconditional love for each of my ten toes. I lifted my head up and gazed at the sky. The beauty I witnessed was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. My feet. The sky. Everything in between. All of life is so unbelievably precious. How had I not known this all along?

  A ravenous hunger overtook me and I headed for the main house, still enthralled and in awe by everything around me. I heard a bark in the distance. Quila! My precious puppy came running. She jumped into my arms and licked my face. The love emanating from her little body was palpable. How had I not noticed all of this before? I wondered. Had I been so weighed down by darkness and pain that I didn’t recognize the beauty and love surrounding me?

  When I entered the house, I found the others gathered around a big table in the garden, enjoying a feast. “There she is!” someone said. John stood and hugged me. “You saved me last night,” he said, tears running down his cheeks. “Me too,” someone said. “And me!” added a third person. I looked around the table. They were all so beautiful. “What do you mean?” I asked. John tried to explain: The previous night had been gut-wrenching, he said. Everyone was experiencing death and darkness. “I was sure I was going to die,” he said. Everyone was. Out of all the experiences the group had had with the medicine, this was the worst by far. Then something happened: A huge bright light emanated from the corner of the room and washed over everyone. “We were all overcome with feelings of peace and calm,” John said. “We have been talking about it all morning. We could all pinpoint it from the same place. It was so clear where the light was coming from—it was godlike. It saved us all; it transformed the entire night. When the ceremony was over, the first thing I did was walk over to where the light was coming from. And there you were, on a couch, sleeping.” I nodded, understanding fully. I didn’t feel any attachment to the idea of my having emanated that light, because I knew it wasn’t true. It was our light. Actually, the idea of “me” felt very strange. My perception of the world was morphing—or was I returning to something I had known all along but just forgotten?

  Rodrigo explained. “Sometimes one person in the group has a shift big enough to spread to the entire ceremony—like rings on water. That is what happened last night.” Rodrigo took a seat next to me. He was so beautiful. Everything made such perfect sense. I hugged him, and felt curiosity bubbling inside me. “Can I ask you something?” I asked in Spanish. “Last night I yelled for you and you didn’t come. I spent hours on the floor before you finally came; was that on purpose? Did it have to be that way for the transformation to come?”

  Rodrigo looked bewildered. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You called for me and I came right awa
y.” Now it was my turn to be confused. “You drank the medicine. I guided you to your hammock, but I stayed close. I knew it was your first time; you are the youngest of the group. Almost right away you got out of your hammock and lay down on the floor. Only a few minutes passed. You called my name and I brought you over to the sofa. You were on the sofa the entire night. Was that not your experience?”

  I started smiling, and then a laugh came bubbling up from deep within my belly. Once I started laughing I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t contain my joy. Before I knew it, we were all laughing, not entirely sure of why but also not needing a reason. When our laughter subsided, my face was aching from smiling so big. The awful visions I’d witnessed the night before, the horror that seemed like a lifetime, had really only been minutes. Rodrigo looked at me with an expression of understanding. “Que belleza. The night was dark. Then the light came through you,” Rodrigo said.

  The light I’d discovered during the ceremony stayed with me as we made our way back home. It’s stayed with me ever since. I had been shown the lesson of a lifetime. What we resist persists. Whether it’s pain, anxiety, fear, loss—whatever emotion you feel—don’t fight it. Experience it. Feel it all. Lean into it. Surrender to it. Breathe into it fully. Open your arms wide and welcome it all. Let go. It will lead you to the light.