I had heard stories about Taita’s ceremony, stories that painted it as something extraordinary. But nothing could prepare me for what I was about to experience. Taita, unlike the other Shamans, performed the traditional Colombian Amazonian Ceremony, renowned for its intensity. Every cup he poured was a thick, earthy substance that seemed to defy description. The taste alone was enough to turn my stomach, and even now, recalling it makes me nauseous.

The ceremony began promptly at 6:30 pm, and based on my consultation with Taita, I was seated close to him, among the select few. He remembered each of us by the stories we shared, calling me “the accident one,” a name that stuck throughout the ceremony. It felt as though he had studied us and knew us deeply.

The Maloca, where the ceremony took place, was enveloped in darkness, devoid of any external light or music. This added to the eerie ambiance, making us keenly aware of the surrounding jungle. It was just us and the sounds of the night, heightening our senses.

I took the first dose and settled into my bed, expecting the effects to gradually take hold. But within minutes, I heard the unmistakable sounds of people purging, a stark reminder of the potency of the brew. Unlike previous ceremonies, where it took time for the effects to manifest, here it was immediate and intense.

As the night progressed, the sounds around me intensified—screams, laughter, and the unmistakable sounds of purging. Some found it overwhelming, but for me, it was different. The past three days at Rythmia had taught me that healing wasn’t just in the mind; it was a physical process that demanded patience and determination. It forced me to confront my fears and unearthed parts of myself I had long ignored.

I drank a total of four cups throughout the night, each one a test of my resolve. It was a lesson in perseverance, challenging the notion that I was a quitter when things got tough. Each cup was like drinking liquid fear, knowing that torment awaited me afterward.

Taita also conducted a healing circle, individually blessing each person and planting the seeds of healing for the next ceremony. His presence was powerful, his chants filling the air with a sense of profound healing.

But the healing circle also brought intense emotions to the surface. I was scared, angry, and frustrated, wanting to quit. Yet, I realized that these emotions were necessary for me to find peace. I allowed myself to feel everything, leading to a cathartic release unlike anything I had experienced before.

The ceremony ended at sunrise, with Taita having performed tirelessly for 12 hours. Exhausted, I looked around and could see the effects of the night written on people’s faces. Some were still in their beds, while others moved about, transformed by their experiences.

Before the closing, Taita offered us “Rappe,” a ceremonial tobacco meant to bring clarity and other health benefits. Despite witnessing others’ struggles with it, I chose to partake, a decision I would later regret. The experience was really intense, almost unbearable, but it taught me the importance of facing my fears head-on. Rappe opened up energetic portals I had never felt before. I was everything and nothing all at the same time. I felt levels of energy that is indescribable. For a moment, I thought that I was going to die. Looking back now, I still think that something within me did.

Overall, the ceremony was a test of my limits, a reminder that healing is a journey that requires courage and perseverance. As I prepare for my last ceremony, I’m unsure of what lies ahead, but I’m ready to face it head-on, knowing that each challenge brings me closer to my true purpose: love.