Citation: Saadal. "The Meaninglessness of Death: An Experience with Ayahuasca (exp111935)". Erowid.org. May 27, 2018. erowid.org/exp/111935
I am part of a group/church that uses ayahuasca on a spiritual context frequently. For new years 2018, we organized a retreat to make a special ceremony. I wasn't expecting at the time, but I was in for the strongest experience I've had up to today.
Our preparations include eating only vegan/vegetarian, and some sex abstinence a few days prior. I'm already a vegetarian, so this part is played since a while ago.
The ceremony started around 10pm. I'm mostly used to the dosage I take, but it's always a surprise as to the effects, and this brew was especially depurated to be, as people in Santo Daime call it, mel, 'honey': a very strong brew.
It didn't take 20 minutes this time, when normally it takes me between 40 to an hour. I could feel it in my blood, and my insides boiled. I never purged by evacuating, but this time I felt like I was about to shit my bowel. I went over to the bathroom, but it was more of a sensation than actual diarrhea.
When I came back a few minutes later, the experience started intensifying. Closed eye visuals where just another world, and if I opened them, there would seem to be little to no difference: it was like whatever I saw was always there, just unnoticed. Patterns and forms and fractals, just taking the shape of people in the light. My body felt like an electric current rushed through, and the very air I breathed felt alive, vibrating. And the music, beautiful, helped me hold a little to what was slowly being left of my self. I started feeling sick, as a natural process, but this wasn't the time yet: A friend sat beside me, and just as I thought 'he will do the purging for me', (and this happens commonly in these ceremonies), he got up and went outside to vomit. The sickness went away, and I felt better. At that moment, I felt like the whole space we were, a kupixawa (a kind of indian tent for ceremonies), was placed inside some kind of vehicle, like a spaceship. The music touched me deeply, and as I closed my eyes, I saw myself in a place that extended infinitely above and below, and to the sides, purplish mirrors. There was also a light, strong, white/purplish. My head vibrated like a bell to the song of my singing voice.
I started to feel sick again, opened my eyes and went outside, barefoot. I perched onto a rock to the side of the kupixawa and vomited what it felt to be way more that I ate or drank that day, but felt myself being cleansed in the process. If possible, the visuals got stronger. I could feel with me, besides the people, some of my spirit guides, telling me things I ought to know.
After some fifteen minutes (it felt longer), I went back inside. As I sat, I felt like I could never go back to my normal consciousness after this: How could I possibly see the world with the same eyes? The same mind? And just as I thought that, something came to my mind, like a realization: If I wanted to, on that very moment, by willing so, I would die. I just had to will it. A mix of sadness, fear and detachment washed over me, and I argued that I had yet much to do, many good things to do for the world before dying.
Life and death as a starting and an end lost their meaning: it wasn't a start or an end, just a continuous movement. I couldn't perceive death with a finality to it, nor being born as a start: a circle has no beginning. I felt very detached, and observed myself and meditated on my breath, the only thing that factually could tell me that I was still alive, for in some deep corner of my mind I still hadn't let go. Slowly, I started feeling happy: I was in a place that I liked a lot, surrounded by people I care for and love, which are my family. I felt like in some kind of reality, like Vrindavana of the Vaishnavas, this would keep on going forever, always, a moment of eternity. I felt very happy at that thought, satisfied in a sense, that this moment was preserved somewhere outside space and time.
I felt very happy at that thought, satisfied in a sense, that this moment was preserved somewhere outside space and time.
The ceremony moved to another part, in which there is dance, and I danced, slowly coming down. After some 6 hours I was on base level, although still very happy. I decided not to take any more ayahuasca that night, and to process the experience I already had.
I carry that experience with me, and have come back to (in a sense) my normal mind pattern: I haven't stayed 'mad' as I thought during the experience, but sometimes I wish I had. There was less place for 'me' and more place for love there, but I am slowly learning how to.
[Reported Dose: 100-150 ml]
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