I just got back from a 11-day ayahuasca retreat in Tarapoto, Peru. I was nervous about going on the retreat because I would be far from home and experimenting with an unknown plant medicine. I remember my husband, Jeff, saying to me before I left, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

A week before I went to Peru, I stopped by my parents’ grave marker and asked them to keep me safe while I was there. And now that I’m back, I feel like I was protected.

The retreat center is on the edge of the regional conservation of Cordillera (the edge of the Amazon). The lush forest is full of animals, birds, and insects. At night and during the day, I could hear different kinds of birds, roosters, monkeys, and coyotes. The forest is never quiet. The mosquitoes were out in full force, and they loved me!

The goal of the Ayahuasca retreat is a purify the physical, mental, and spiritual bodies so Mother Ayahuasca can do her work. The main reason to do ayahuasca is to become strong and experience transformation. Many people want to seek solutions to their depression, physical aliments, and drug addictions.

During the retreat, eight other participants and I followed a strict diet (no oil, salt, sugar, or meat) and a digital detox (no cell phone for eight days). We weren’t allowed to use beauty or bath products. To keep the mosquitoes away, we used a natural citronella spray.

I had several conflicts about taking ayahuasca. First, I don’t like taking psychedelics. And second, as a Buddhist, I’m not allowed to take any intoxicants. Honestly, I had doubts as soon as I arrived at the retreat center. I wish I had gone on the yoga retreat instead.

The retreat felt more like an “ayahuasca boot camp.” Many times, I felt peer pressure to take ayahuasca. The shamans treated ayahuasca like liquid gold, and it would cure everything. However, as a tourist and Westerner, I did not grow up in the Amazon. My relationship with plants is different—I didn’t grow up drinking ayahuasca like the shamans did.

I was also given a second plant medicine called “Boa Waska.” The shaman said it will help me open my chakras (the boa is like the kundalini). I was instructed to take it in the morning and before sleeping. It tasted like dark rum. I ended up taking it occasionally.

During the retreat, there were four ayahuasca ceremonies (two during the day and two at night). The first ceremony was at night. I remember feeling anxious about taking ayahuasca. A black and orange butterfly landed on my shoulder as I walked along the path from the cafeteria. I took it as a good sign – that I would be okay with my first ayahuasca ceremony. The butterfly is one of my spirit guides.

The ceremonies were held in a large circular building called a “maloca.” Each person had two mats, a pillow, and a blanket. There was also an ice cream bucket and a roll of toilet paper. Before I entered the maloca, I was smudged with tobacco smoke. There were two shamans and four helpers. The helpers brought people to the bathrooms or filled their water bottles.

We all began on our mats. Each person was offered Rape (a powdered combination of dried tobacco, ash, and herbs administered up the nose) and special eye drops. I tried Rape up only my left nostril and I didn’t do the eye drops. Then, each person, one by one, went up to take the cup of ayahuasca. When I went up, the shaman asked me how I was feeling and how much I wanted to take. I said, “I was nervous and wanted a small amount.” Ayahuasca is mixed with chacruna, and it tastes like thick molasses.

Then I went back to my mat to meditate. The ayahuasca made me feel dizzy with a mild burning sensation in my stomach. Most people take enough ayahuasca that they eventually vomit or have diarrhea. Ayahuasca creates an inner volcano that eventually erupts.

I sat and cried a little after repeating, in my mind, “Mama Ayahuasca.” I was crying because when I said, “mama,” it reminded me of my mom who recently passed away.

Eventually, I received the message to let my mom and dad go. It was time, and I didn’t want to hold them back energetically. Then I had a vision. I saw a gold cross in a tunnel, and my parents were walking towards it. It was a peaceful image, and it made sense that I saw a cross, given that my parents were Catholic. However, the cross is seen all over the world. The cross has a Christian meaning, but it can also represent the human body, the four cardinal directions, eternal life, female anatomy, the chakras, and the union of heaven and earth.

During each ceremony, the shaman sings Icaros – magical songs. The shaman comes to each person to sing directly to them (for about 15 minutes). I hummed along to open up my chakras, especially my throat chakra.

After the ceremony, I had a headache and I felt slightly nauseous. When I lay down to sleep, my heart was racing. I felt anxiety, and I wished I hadn’t taken ayahuasca.

That night, I dreamt that an older shaman gave me medicine in cream-colored powder. The shaman had straight black hair in a bob and was dressed in colorful traditional clothing. My dreams, during the retreat, were vivid and memorable.

The second ayahuasca ceremony was during the daytime. I decided to hold the cup but not drink the ayahuasca. However, as I sat on my mat, I could feel the energy of the people around me. I kept reminding myself to “keep my health and follow my intuition.”

On Sunday night, June 8, I dreamed of an ambulance with lights flickering passing me by. When the ambulance stopped, I looked into it and saw my dog, Liam, on the stretcher receiving help from the paramedics. He was still alive but not doing well. Then, on Monday morning, the shaman said my husband had called last night, and she told him I would call him back in the morning.

Jeff said Liam was acting weird and falling over. I told him to bring Liam to the vet. Later, Jeff said Liam was struggling to breathe, and he had to put him to sleep. It was the first time I’ve ever heard my husband cry. I cried, too. I felt so sad.

My dog, Liam, was a 14 years old miniature schnauzer. He was on medication and was declining for several months. I knew he might not live too much longer. I felt super sad for the rest of the retreat, but I decided to stay calm and stay in the present moment. I didn’t want to always be sad and bring people down. Unfortunately, grief was my companion during the retreat.

The Buddhist Salla Sutta states that wailing does not attain peace of mind. It only brings grief and hurt to the body. Mourning only makes the mourner emaciated and pale. It does not help the departed. Therefore, mourning is meaningless.

The Salla Sutta continues by saying that even if humans were to live a hundred years or more, they must still yield to their lives, at last bereft of friends and relatives. Therefore, listening to the wise and the holy and seeing a beloved one departed, control your weeping. Reflect on the departure of your beloved ones by thinking that separation is natural.

We grieve because we love.

During the next few days, I realized I needed to be in control. And I have a lot of fear about my health. My roommate, Rosanne, said maybe it’s because I see dying people all the time (in my work as a hospice massage therapist). I get too concerned about my body moment by moment. It’s hard to let go. I wanted to remain in homeostasis.

The shaman said I must be more “child-like” and let go. I need to trust. But I have difficulty trusting people, especially since I am far from home. I have travelled all around the world, and I have seen people get sick, and it’s not fun.

I kept telling myself, “I must be strong and healthy” – nothing can disturb my commitment. I will let go of taking ayahuasca to remain stable.

The third ayahuasca ceremony was during the day. Again, I held the cup and prayed for my family, friends, and pets. The fourth and final ayahuasca ceremony was at night during a full moon. I decided to take a small sip. I wanted to have the plant medicine in me – to give it a chance.

Sitting on my mat, I imagined using sign language to communicate with Mother Ayahuasca. I read somewhere that Mother Ayahuasca likes to communicate in images. I signed to her in my mind, “Show me what I need to know.” I know that ayahuasca will continue to work with me in the months to come.

When I thought about what makes a good shaman, I thought of my mentor, Sister Lucy Bruskiewicz, who passed away in 2022. She deeply cared about people and honored them. She never forced things and met people where they were in life. I hope I can follow her example.

I learned a lot from the ayahuasca retreat. For example, I learned to stand on the ground despite being shaky. I saw my weaknesses and knew I wanted to improve myself. I also realized that I am strong amid peer pressure. I want to work on loving-kindness toward myself and others.

The retreat restored a sense of gratitude in my heart. I am so thankful for my health, my devoted husband, my beautiful family and friends, loyal cat, and my country.

I am happy to be home. I was born in St. Paul, Minnesota. Like shamans worldwide, I can reconnect with the land around me and learn about medicinal plants. I am home, sweet home.

Namaste.