Now I See Me: Ayahuasca, the Divine Mirror
By Kristin Blinman
How many of us have, in the lead up to ceremony, had a moment to ourselves and thought, ‘What in the world is going to happen tonight?’ I know I have, and truthfully, more often than not sat to soothe that feeling of digging in my heels. Will I be bombarded with visions, shaken out of my skin (like a polaroid picture, naturally), swim in the shimmering waters of every conceivable emotion? Will I simply drop into nothingness?
Even if you have never (or have yet to) commune with Madre, this is an all too familiar, and perfectly human, response to standing on the edge of the unknown. We’ve all felt it at one time or another - the sweats, the butterflies. Antici -
pation.
In the dance with Ayahuasca, part of that big unknown centers around just what exactly she’s going to show you.
And boy oh boy, can she put on a show. As she’s told me so many times, both in the throes of despair and/or ecstasy, ‘Isn’t it all so beautiful? The greatest show on Earth!’
Wasn’t it funny to find out that the whole circus - elephants, peanuts, and all - was just me? The big unknown I trembled to be confronted with? Just me.
Story Time: Some Context and Background
This past September I felt the call to do a master plant diet with Ayahuasca, to deepen my connection with her, as well as gain some insight into who she is. Working with the plants is all about relationship building, and as with any relationship, when we deeply love someone we want to see them as they are, not just the ideas we have about them or what they do for us.
One night in ceremony, I was deep into the medicine portal and in my field of vision emerged a huge skull, bulbous chunks melting and drifting away from it in snake-like ribbons. Coming right at me, getting closer and closer. I marveled, ‘Wow, Aya, what is THIS? Are you showing me some important part of your essence? A symbolic showcase of your relationship with death and underworld?’
‘What on Earth are you showing me?!’
The skull faded and the ceremony continued, no clarity to be had. It wasn’t until later, when I got back to my room and happened to look at the case of water I had brought with me that it clicked. This particular brand of water’s logo is, against a black backdrop, a melting skull, with snakelike dripping bits coming off of it. And I had been chugging this water. All. Day.
Mama Aya, ever playful said, ‘Sweetheart, I work with what you bring me. That’s part of how I play the mirror, and I just reflect back what put in your field. If you want a different show, maybe another brand of water.’
Mama Ayahuasca, Mirror Mural Artist
To be the mirror. This is one of her many superpowers. Ayahuasca mirrors and creates with whatever we bring to the table, from our most mundane to our most expansive tidbits. Out of our unique pallet of paints, she is the mirror mural artist who crafts a masterpiece so we can be our own healing.
Not that visuals are the only way she can mirror something to us. Everything that arises during ceremony in some way or another, is pulled from those personalized paint swatches. Been holding onto some anger over boundaries crossed? Maybe she mirrors it to you in shaking fists and hot flashes. Perhaps (and let’s be real, often) what you’re meant to witness is in the surrender of an intense purging session.
Who knows? It’s your mirror, and only you can experience the how, and know the what, that’s being reflected back to you.
Still, that doesn’t even mean that you’re meant to analyze, understand, or even reasonably comprehend every little thing she reflects to you. The beauty of her divine mirror is that in perfect timing you will see what you need to see when you need to see it. She shows us the parts of ourselves that we aren’t always available to look at, but that we need to see, so that we can find forgiveness, compassion, and acceptance for the totality of who we are.
The Big Unknown
But here’s the thing, we’ll never really know all of what we’ve got in there. The unknown and unknowable of who and what we are? Oof, no wonder we have those moments of hesitation, or downright rebellion if we think we might be confronted with it.
What do I do when she shows me something I don’t want to see, or I don’t like? Or that scares me? What happens when she starts creating with the box of old, runny, oil paints labeled ‘Do not use?’
What happens when she mirrors my most expansive, glorious, boundless, self? For some of us, that’s the greatest terror that we face.
The question really isn’t what do you do, or what happens - there are practical strategies for helping navigate those intense times in ceremony, and also, sometimes you’ve just got to hold onto your hat! Rather, the question is how can you reframe your relationship to gazing into the unknowableness that you are?
There can be some comfort in knowing that it’s all just you - intellectually speaking. It might even provide a way for the ego self/the mind to find a sense of safety in the midst of what’s being shown. That’s just it though, what you see when you witness Aya’s mirror is also being filtered through the lens of human you - like a cartoon dog-face filter on Instagram, except it’s all your judgements, likes and dislikes, fears, and perceptions.
Sometimes, because of that filter, Aya’s mirror is just A LOT to take in and then try to make sense of. Which is why we want to reframe our relationship by first acknowledging the human vessel that carries the totality of us. And allowing grace for all of our humanness - flaws, foibles, and fantastic bits all welcome!
Then Mama Aya can support us in learning to embrace whatever arises, and help us to clear up the cloudiness that obscures how we see ourselves (I did mention being a mirror was only ONE of her superpowers)! We learn to trust that whatever circus or masterwork is generated out of the unknowable parts IS just us. And that’s perfectly ok. Because we’re perfectly ok. Just as us.
