I used to be about as much of a materialist atheist as you could get. Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and Sam Harris were my bread and butter. But since my time in Peru, spiritual practice has now been fully integrated into my daily life.

I’ve meditated consistently for the last 450 consecutive days — including a two week silent retreat. This isn’t something that I believed I was capable of before the veil clouding my mind was lifted by a psychedelic plant medicine and the healing songs of three powerful shamans.

Ultimately, the medicine showed me I had the power to heal myself all along — it merely gave me a forceful but loving reminder that I’d been wearing the Dorthy’s ruby slippers this whole time. But I had to suffer enough before I was ready to hear the truth:

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.

I had to suffer enough, to be so exhausted by it, so worn down by it, that the only thing I could think to do was fly thousands of miles away to a retreat center made out of thatched wood suspended on stilts on the muddy banks of the Amazon. I had to be willing to completely let go — of myself, of the world, maybe even of my sanity. I had to get to a point where I had nothing left to lose. To believe that drinking a noxious, dark brew that would cause me to violently vomit, and shit, and thrash about wildly was my best option.

And my God, coming out on the other side, it’s so worth it. Every single dark night of my soul was worth it, just to get here. To be able to fully appreciate reality as it is, even in the face of pain and emotional discomfort. To be able to find beauty in the suffering. You can think I’ve lost my mind to superstition all you want — hell, a couple years ago I probably would have — but at the end of the day, my new worldview is completely worth it as far as my mental health goes. I see no conflict with my love of the scientific method and the idea that we are normally only capable of perceiving a tiny sliver of everything that’s actually out there.

I don’t believe that ayahuasca is for everyone, but for me, it was exactly what I needed — in fact, while under its influence, I was convinced that the entirety of my life was an elaborate prank meant to groom me for the experience. Meant to prepare me to be able to accept the truth — what in Buddhism is known as anatta, or “not-self.” To come to grips with the fact that whatever it is that I am, it isn’t the role I’m playing as Jason M. Glover. It isn’t the mask I wear to interact with the world of form. My personality is just an elaborate user interface. And to the extent I cling to it and become lost in craving is the extent to which I’ll suffer.

As humans, we spend our lives looking everywhere else for the answers to our existential enui than the one place the answer actually lives — within. And I guarantee you, no matter what spiritual path you take, when you’re ready to receive it, the answer is there. I can go ahead and tell it to you, but it’ll sound like so much hand-wavy nonsense until you’ve experienced it directly.

“As humans, we spend our lives looking everywhere else for the answers to our existential enui than the one place the answer actually lives — within.”

But what the hell, here it goes anyhow… Do you want to know why there’s something instead of nothing? Why suffering exists? Why any of us were born at all? Why we will all eventually die?

It turns out, the answer — it’s laughably simple. It’s that thing we hated to hear from our parents when we were kids and we asked our endless questions about why things are the way they are. The answer is: “because.” Because this is the only way things could ever be. And really penetrating that truth — it feels like breathing a sigh of relief that lasts the length of your whole life. It’s a deep physical relaxing into a contended easefulness. A joyful letting go. A surrendering into an unshakable faith that no matter what else happens, no matter how dark things get, in some larger way everything is fine.

In Mahayana Buddhism it’s called tathātā, a Sanskrit term which is often translated as “thusness” or “suchness.” It’s revealed in the seemingly mundane details of life. In the cycles of the natural world. It is all that is. In Zen, it’s often called the “isness.”

Thích Nhất Hạnh wrote: “People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child — our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”

This simple lesson is what Mother Ayahuasca is trying to teach as many of us delusional primates as possible before we destroy ourselves — and the whole rest of the community of life is eagerly waiting for us to catch on.

A year later, it’s still strange — the absence I feel without depression as my constant companion. Now sometimes when I’m hungry or tired, I’ll become panicked, thinking it’s returned. But it hasn’t. I sleep, I eat, and I’m still fine. I’m still here, recovered. I’ll remember again, and I’ll laugh.

Fuck, everything’s OK after-all. Pinch me, I’m dreaming.

Existential chalkboard musings from the folks on my retreat.

Resources

I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to the shamans, facilitators, and other lovely co-participants on my retreat. If you are interested beginning your own journey with ayahuasca, here are some centers worth checking out:

Ayahuasca Spirit Healing Center A new center recently opened by Wiler Noriega Rodrígues, one of the Shipibo shamans mentioned in this story. Wiler is proud to have manifested his dream of building his own center, in the village where he lives in Pucallpa. He feels passionately about giving back to his community.

Arkana Spiritual Center (Formally Pulse Tours). I had my retreat at their center located outside of Iquitos. They have helped the local village of Libertad with a number of projects, including school facilities and electricity. They have also recently opened a new center in the Sacred Valley.

Soltara Healing Center A new center recently opened by Dan Cleland who started Pulse Tours. Located in Costa Rica, they have a huge focus on the integration process.