Cactus of Mystery
Page 24
During my first San Pedro journey I took a walk in the countryside around the Temple of the Moon, outside Cusco. As I walked through the ruins of an ancient Incan village I felt connected not just with that place but to the Earth as a whole.
This feeling of connectedness is something alien to addicts who often share a common grievance that they feel “different” from their peers, their family, and indeed from society as a whole. Now, with San Pedro, I could see the life force of the mountains and feel the energy of the clouds, the Earth, and my fellow travelers. I realized that we are all the same: energetic, spiritual beings, that our very breath intermingles with those around us as does the energy of our thoughts and words.
This is how I described my experience with San Pedro a month or so after those first ceremonies:
Sitting atop the mountain I could see the Andes rolling away into the distance and I had an overwhelming sense of belonging, not just to this area, but to the Earth as a whole and of the importance of every curve of the mountain range, every boulder, rock, stone, and blade of grass. The life of the mountains felt ancient and slow while the life of the clouds seemed young and quickly changing but all of it was part of the same incredible tableau and all of equal importance.
I ventured down from the mountain, visiting trees and rocks and taking a closer look at some of the sites I’d seen from afar. I rested in a large rock formation shaped like a seat and felt cradled by the mountain behind me and welcomed by the valley ahead. I had such a feeling of peace and acceptance that I was almost reluctant to head back to the ceremonial garden.
Once there I drank some water and relaxed in a hammock to observe my fellow travelers. We had been advised not to talk to each other too much so as not to interfere in each other’s journeys. I saw my friend on her knees, sobbing, and didn’t intervene but watched quietly as she came to the end of her crying, rested—and then rose up with the broadest smile, calm and serene, released. Some people curled up into themselves while others took pleasure in the garden, photographing plants.
I guess about five hours in I started to get a bit restless so I tried talking with one of the people who hadn’t drunk San Pedro and found that I was in full control of my words and thoughts. I could have a normal conversation but found that I was choosing my words carefully, realizing their power and that of my thoughts, and that I didn’t have enough vocabulary to express how I felt anyway.
Through the eyes of San Pedro the world is an exceptionally beautiful place. Every living thing has its place and it is all of equal importance. Through it I realized, as Ross put it, that “we human beings are no more important or beautiful than a mud brick—but we are no less important or beautiful either.”
I have come home with new eyes and can bring the beauty of the world to mind and into reality by just remembering that San Pedro experience.
This is the gift I believe that San Pedro can give to the addict who still suffers: to feel and sense their union with the Divine so they realize that every living thing shares the same energy. Ayahuasca showed me who I am, but San Pedro showed me where I fit in to the world.
I found a deep connection to myself and realized that within me and within all of us is the whole world. I can’t do something to myself without it having an effect on everyone and everything. The sense of responsibility this brought seemed overwhelming until I realized that the only way I can possibly live is to be as kind and gentle to myself as possible, thereby sharing that kindness and gentleness with all else.
That trip I took to Peru was to change my life completely. I went home with a deeper understanding. I had glimpsed the interconnected-ness of all that is and was set on a path, which not only excited me but gave me a sense of hope that I had finally found a way to improve the chances of release from addiction. I needed to do more research though and knew that the best place for that was Peru.
My husband and I had decided to end our marriage a year before so I went home and started the process of moving. It took six months. We finalized our divorce, I sold my share of the house, gave away my pets, quit my five jobs, and completed the addictions counseling course I had started with Kathryn. Then I bought my ticket to Peru and returned to Cusco. Apart from that I had no plans and put my trust in spirit to guide me.
I spent the next three months working with San Pedro, learning about it and through it to trust the ebb and flow of the universe. I took part in ceremonies a few times each week and it was my privilege to meet many amazing people from all over the world.
San Pedro has a way of making us feel small in the great scheme of things but at the same time vast and hugely important—as important as every other living thing. This can sometimes be a difficult concept for people to grasp as it seems to contradict itself, but to me it is a fact and one of the teachings of the plant.
I also learned from San Pedro that through our breath we are all connected and that nothing is expected of us in this lifetime except that we continue to breathe. There is no good or bad except as we label it so. Judgment is unnecessary, an illusion. Everything just is.
I don’t know how many times I drank San Pedro, maybe fifty, and it was different each time. The awe-inspiring feeling of connection is always there but each time I would gain more insight into how to be in the world.
One particular ceremony was deeper than my other experiences. I had been watching my diet closer than usual because of a group we had visiting for ceremony that was led by David Wolfe, the raw food specialist. We had a number of ceremonies that week and I think in retrospect that it was the combination of the strict raw food diet and the energy of the group that gave me what was to be my deepest—and last—San Pedro ceremony.
I cannot find the words to describe what happened. I’d like to say I met God but those words mean nothing and don’t even come close to explaining the illumination I felt during and after that ceremony.
I knew then that I’d drunk enough San Pedro. There seemed little point in drinking more, for how much more could I learn or see after that one singular moment of communion? I still attended ceremony and enjoyed being in the company of people who were drinking San Pedro but I never drank again. So much had been revealed to me I feel that it might take me the rest of my life just to process what I have experienced.
That last ceremony meant a lot to me as an addict as well. It proved that San Pedro is not a drug that I can never get enough of, but a sacrament and a living energy with lessons to teach and connections to foster and one that I can choose to meet with or not.
While I lived in Cusco I traveled regularly to the north of Peru for ceremonies and dietas*29 with other plants too, including ayahuasca, guayusa, ajo sacha, and bobinsana. I met a number of shamans who were having success in treating addictions with plant medicines. The whole process was incredibly exciting to me. It was no longer just an idea that freedom from addiction was possible; it was actually happening for real people in Peru as a result of the plant medicines and shamanic practices there. I was amazed, awed, and ecstatic. After years of searching I had found what I had been seeking.
In Pucallpa I met the shaman Jose Campos who had been one of the original founders of the Takiwasi Centre. He agreed to help me in any way he could and offered me sound advice about the use of plants for healing.
In the village of San Francisco, just outside Pucallpa, I met another shaman, Mateo Arevalo, who is treating addicts in his home and having great success. He doesn’t speak English or keep records, but through an interpreter he explained his process to me. He’s a secretive man, and I had to promise not to pass on what he told me, but he opened my eyes even more.
Everywhere in Peru it seemed—from the mountains to the jungle—so many different shamans were having extraordinary success in healing addictions by using plant medicines. These were not “freak incidents” or isolated cases of breakthroughs by addicts. The results were consistent and far superior to Western achievements.
During one of my dietas1 it came to me that I needed to
do something practical if I was to put the information I was receiving to use. My brother Mark is a long-term substance abuser who was living in North Queensland and battling to stay off drugs, so I invited him to Peru. One of my shamanic advisors had said to me, “Heal those closest to you first,” so I took this literally and brought my brother over for healing.
They involve purification, retreat, commitment, and respect for our connection to everything. Through the exclusion of some foodstuffs and activities, the diet enables the participant to purify and take in the spirit or essence of the teacher plant and its healing powers.
Other jungle medicines are added to the diet in addition to visionary medicines, such as ajo sacha (for the ability to blend with the natural world according to Amazonian shamans), pinon colorado (a defense against evil sorcerers), and tóe (a dreaming plant that brings the capability of “spirit flight”). Some of these plants are sometimes also used as admixtures to both ayahuasca and San Pedro.
After that, life moved quickly. I wrote up an addictions treatment program using plants, therapeutic practices, and shamanic medicines that I called Tranquilo (Spanish for calm, peaceful, and quiet), found a place to rent just outside Iquitos, and had my first client booked before I’d even moved in.
I’m one person so I take one client at a time. That way I can give my clients 100 percent of my attention and be available to them twenty-four hours a day. I run a course anywhere from one month to three months, the longer being preferred. My first client could only stay for one month, but we made a lot of progress. In her words, “I know the shortness of my program was not ideal but in that time we were able to accomplish a great deal. I feel that I have a solid backbone now toward staying sober . . . my resolution is stronger than it’s ever been before in my life.” We are still in touch and I hope to meet with her again in Cusco and conclude her treatment with San Pedro.
My addiction treatment program also includes work with ayahuasca. I have talked with people who have taken San Pedro before ayahuasca and prefer that, but I start with ayahuasca instead to give my clients a chance to get to know themselves, to understand their strengths, and to develop their personal sense of truth and integrity. With these qualities clarified the message of San Pedro—that we are all one and not so different from each other—is much easier for them to accept and assimilate.
I believe that if an addict can experience the lessons of San Pedro, they have a greater prospect of staying clean and sober. The plant opens a doorway for them and allows them to heal themselves. It may not happen all at once but when a universal truth has been revealed you can never go back to not knowing it.
An outline of a month-long Tranquilo program looks something like this, although treatment is always tailored to the individual:
Week 1: Assessment, cleansing inside and out with purges, saunas, and plant baths, and the first ayahuasca ceremony
Week 2: Daily meditation and counseling sessions, second and third ayahuasca ceremonies
Week 3: Daily meditation and counseling, with three more ayahuasca ceremonies
Week 4: Three San Pedro ceremonies, with meditation and counseling throughout
The program is flexible so it can adapt to each person’s needs. It is also nondenominational but I use Buddhist concepts and the practice of meditation as well as various plants. I love this work and the more people I can help the greater the healing I also receive, and the greater strength I therefore have to heal others. It’s like the butterfly effect or the ripples in a pond—such is the connection between us all. Each person who comes to Tranquilo has the opportunity to heal. They then can also make a difference in countless other lives. When people remind me of the vastness of the addiction problem worldwide, I remember this and the importance of the individual in healing the whole.
I have also made a promise that for every Westerner I treat there will be a place on the program for an indigenous person to come for free. This way I can give back to the community that has given me healing and the knowledge of the plants that I use in my work.
The real purpose of Tranquilo is to find out who you truly are and all of the power, dignity, and beauty you have. The Western social system that I was born into and lived within drilled into me that I was powerless and weak and taught me that evil exists and that society is fragmented—but none of that is actually true. We are powerful, beautiful, and extraordinary. I know this through my work with San Pedro and other plant teachers. There is no reason why we cannot find out for ourselves who we are and where we are going, and no reason why any individual cannot be fully empowered and healed.
We have also been trained in our culture that our individual differences should stand out so that we can call ourselves “younger,” “older,” “richer,” “poorer,” “smarter,” “dumber,” “prettier” . . . and to put others into these categories too and treat them differently because they are separate from us. One of the most dramatic experiences we can therefore have is to be with another person and see the ways in which they are like us, not different, and to experience our connection: to know that the essence of you and the essence in me is One. This is the message of San Pedro and understanding follows.
We are incredible beings, made even more extraordinary by the plants. Our aim then does not have to be for us to become something so we can stand alone, but to be who we already are and to melt into connection with all and everything by knowing that place where we are accepted and loved.
San Pedro can give us this experience. We weren’t born as addicts, we were born as human beings and the whole process of becoming an addict is learned. Its purpose is to cover our sense of separation and the hurts we feel have been done to us in this game of life. But as long as we keep ourselves separate from everything else we lend ourselves to being enslaved.
If we only realized the truth of our relationship to each other, however, to nature and the extent of our power, then the entire manufactured structure of the society that causes these wounds would collapse like a house of cards. A new consciousness is already emerging that sees the world as a single organism, and reason will tell you that an organism bent on damaging itself is doomed. Plants open doorways to this new consciousness and give us back our connection to the world.
I spent thirty years of my life on the merry-go-round of fear and addiction, running away from who I am and not feeling one with anyone. Now I feel powerful, connected, joyous, and free—and I’m still working on it. In my program I try to share this with my clients and empower them to heal themselves. I’m not special, I’m exactly the same as everyone else, and if I can do it everyone else can too.
Plants are nonjudgmental; they don’t care what you look like or how much money you have; their concern is for their and your wellbeing. Plants understand the interconnectedness of everything and by helping us realize our potential they give the world we share a better chance of survival.
We understand only 3 percent of what our DNA is for and call 97 percent of it (and therefore 97 percent of ourselves) “junk.” Only 30 percent of addicts get clean in traditional rehabs, so are we to consider the others who don’t as “junk” human beings as well? We would be dismissing a whole section of our population. Plants do not make such distinctions.
When people have woven their spirit into negative thinking they need to retreat for a while, pull their spirits back, and learn to walk straight again. Healing requires action. It is not a passive event. We are meant to draw on our inner resources, to find the material strength to leave behind outmoded beliefs and behaviors, and to see ourselves in new and healthy ways.
The conventional medical world is now recognizing the link between energetic or spiritual dysfunction and illness. Shamans (the original doctors) have always been aware of this link. Working with plant medicines helps us to recognize the self. To “recognize” means to “know again,” implying that you once already knew who you are and had the answers within you.
I’ve been advised by the shamans I have met who treat
addiction that it is not wise to consider plants as a miracle cure. I have also met addicts who have come to the Amazon with a miracle cure in mind only to find that they leave the jungle and the first thing they crave is a beer.
In some cases one or two ceremonies may do the trick, but don’t bet on it. In my experience and in the experience of others, it takes time to assimilate the message of the plants. I believe ayahuasca can give us a deeply spiritual experience, but this needs to be integrated and understood to have a lasting effect. San Pedro aids this integration. As a follow-up to ayahuasca it allows a deeper understanding of the function and place of spirit in the world. While ayahuasca can be challenging, showing us our shadow as well as our light, San Pedro is always light, gentle, and profound.
While little has been written about the use of these plants to cure addiction it is well accepted in the shamanic community that they work, and I hope they will become better known in the world community too as more people are healed by them.
10
Healing an Abusive Past
Alexia Gidding
Sadly, from my experience of drinking San Pedro I have no accounts of conversations with plants or rocks or of being at one with the universe. Nor did I learn about the great plans of the universe or gain insight into cosmic consciousness or the patterns of life and existence. My experience was all about me . . .
While I was writing this account of my experience with San Pedro, I thought that maybe I should offer a short resume of my life as well to illustrate how San Pedro has impacted me. So this is my past life in a nutshell. I left home at fifteen to live with my boyfriend and at that point I entered a world of misery; I left my freedom behind and was literally kept under lock and key and not allowed out without his supervision.
Physical, emotional, and sexual abuse occurred on a regular basis. After several near-death experiences, losing eight babies, and many visits to the hospital for injuries and breaks to bones, various drug addictions were forced on me, which resulted in two psychotic episodes.