And then ayahuasca was like, “here’s your life’s purpose”

On Monday, September 30, 2019, sometime in the wee hours of the morn, I learned my life’s purpose.

How’s that for specific?

I didn’t record the date at the time, but I was able to backtrack this morning. I flew to Ecuador for my second plant medicine retreat on Friday, September 20, 2019, and I know my purpose was revealed during the second ayahuasca ceremony.

Since the retreat center I go to follows a consistent schedule – easy peasy. Backtracking done.

Around 6:00 PM on Sunday the 29th, I strolled down to the maloka, bundled up for an ayahuasca ceremony high in the Andes. I arrived with an intention, but something happened as soon as I stepped into the sacred space

I chose my mat, then some deep inner yearning stirred. “Path forward,” it whispered. “This is a ceremony about your path forward.”

I stepped out of the space and sought out one of the managers, asking for his input. “I had an intention I planned to work with tonight, but when I walked into the space, something else came up.”

“If it were me,” he responded, “I’d shift to the new one. Trust the unfolding.”

So I did. I settled back into my cozy space, layering blankets around me, then surrendered to the experience. The “some helpful tips” document I’ve since written about dancing with ayahuasca has “surrender” written approximately 47 times.

Trust and surrender. Surrender and trust.

As I trusted and surrendered, the most interesting thing happened. The first cup of ayahuasca followed the exact path of a ceremony seven nights prior. That ceremony was one I’ve already written about – the one where I learned to trust easy.

The path the medicine journey followed was deeply comforting. It started with Sam and I getting married in the spirit realm, our souls dancing together in effervescent joy (we were a month away from getting married in the physical realm). The more I opened to love, the more love I sent his way, the better I felt.

Then, our joyful dance (literally an Irish jig) wound down and Sam waved me on. I then had the same experience with my mom, meeting her in the spirit world, and feeling flooded with gratitude. “Mmmm, my mom,” I thought, hoping she was warm and cozy in her bed. She was on the retreat with me, making us the envy of every other participant. Everyone there was inspired by the idea of returning for a retreat with their parents or children. Same formula: the more I opened to love, the more love I directed her way, the more I melted into blissful ecstasy.

Then the next thing, then the next thing. “I remember this,” I thought with awe. “I remember this and I love this.”

I had the same dialogue with ayahuasca that I wrote about before, offering every ounce of myself to the ceremony. “If this needs to be hard, I accept hard. If I can get to the same place by taking the easy path, the blissful path, I choose that one.”

I surrendered more and more, delighting in the unfolding. Then I realized that, while the path was unfolding in the exact same format as my first ceremony of the retreat, I was going deeper. More was being revealed.

I remembered what it was to delight in the human experience.

I remembered remembering that in my first ceremony.

And it blew my mind.

Then the second cup of the evening blew my mind further. The exact same path, but deeper yet. Sam, my mom, surrendering. Love. Bliss. Ecstasy.

Three times. Three times down the same path, surrendering deeper and receiving more each time.

And, as I drifted back into human form, a refrain played over and over again in my mind:

Remember.

Remember remembering.

Remember remembering remembering.

And that, my friends, was ayahuasca telling me my life purpose.

Perhaps not what you expected, aye? Maybe you thought I was going to say that my life’s purpose is writing. Or sharing hopeful ideas. Or starting an enchanted living movement. Or helping to make magic the next mindfulness.

Maybe you thought it’d be about becoming a mother, since I had deeply satisfying visions about welcoming a child to the world in the ceremony.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t specific marching orders. It wasn’t “do this and you’ll get that.” I’m not sure I would have trusted the vision if it were as transactional as that.

I’m here to remember.

To remember remembering.

To remember remembering remembering.

And how I do that — that’s secondary. Writing’s an option. So is mothering. As is opening the Main Line Shamanic Center, becoming a motivational speaker, trying to channel the next Harry Potter…or dropping out of the financial system altogether. Tomato, tomahto.

I get that it sounds vague and ethereal and probably super weird. So let me bring it back to Earth. Yesterday, when I wrote my ode to stubborn gladness, that was me living my purpose. I was remembering something I knew on a deep, DEEEEEP soul level…but I needed to write it to remember remembering. I needed to remember that I knew it and, in the remembering, I deepened my understanding.

At the end of yesterday’s writing session, I was flooded with bliss, gratitude and awe, just like during my series of ceremonies. I felt so good because, for that hour, I wasn’t a confused human trying to figure out how to thrive in this world. I was someone remembering that I already have all the answers inside me. I just need to slow down and relax enough to remember.

I don’t know. Words are falling a little short here because I’m trying to transmit a feeling. One that doesn’t come from thinking, one that comes from opening. Surrendering. Trusting. Remembering.

So I’ll end here, wishing you a day of trust and surrender. A day where you remember what you already know and feel peace and comfort in the remembering.

Sending love,

P.S. If traveling to a foreign country and puking in a bucket isn’t your thing, there are shamanic energy medicine tools that can help you connect with your life’s purpose, no mood- or mind-altering substances required. Info, including rates, is on the Shamanic Energy Medicine page.

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