The Calling – Part 1

“Everything you need is already inside of you. And who you truly are is far beyond your comprehension”



I had come to a crossroad in my life and which ever way I turned didn’t look pretty. I had ditched my corporate career about a year ago and my savings were running out fast. The relationship with my partner was in tatters, so was my weight, my relationships – having no meaningful platonic relationships in my life had gone on for years, everything in my life was literally falling apart at my feet. The harder I tried to hold on to it the faster it fled. When was it every going to change I kept asking myself weeping internally, how long do I have to go on like this, I know that this is not my true self…

I had done roughly four years of various types of psychotherapy and not really gotten the results that it had promised. I felt knocked down, like I had had enough of absolutely everything but too scared to end it all. I knew deep in side of me that there were blocks that no talking therapy could ever break through. I knew – because I remember as a child putting them there. I had searched for therapies that went deeper but every time I tried a new one nothing seemed to break through. I needed some serious help. I realise now – I was completely disconnected from myself and needed something seriously powerful to break through.

I had heard of ayahuasca but it just scared me. I didn’t understand it. I thought it was part recreational drug, part purge your guts. I didn’t understand the therapeutic benefits and the fear, jesus I was deadly scared. I had only ever smoked a spliff.

I had a friend who I co facilitated therapy sessions with who had reached such deep levels that she had no choice but to try it and had been encouraging me for a year. I kept telling her – I know I should but honestly I am too too too scared. It would be liked being on death row for me. I was petrified for my life.

My first attempt – a fail

So I told M (my partner) that I had realised that I basically had no choice. That I had spent thousands of pounds on trying to change my life through therapy but really – what had changed? I was deeply unhappy. That this was my last hit. If this didn’t work – what would? I had to face my deepest fears, or continue to live a life that wasn’t truly mine.

We put our feelers out and low and behold there was a ceremony happening a couple hours from where we were in two weeks time. I couldn’t believe it. I had two weeks to read up, and follow the dieta and get myself ready for probably the scariest thing I had ever done in my life.

I started the dieta and that was fine, I watched video after video on youtube and read hundreds of articles around the subject. I still had this deep deep fear within me. With about a week to go I woke up one morning with extreme stomach pains. I could barely move. This continued through the day and the next few days getting worse and worse. Before I knew it I was on a hospital bed with doctors deciding whether to operate. WTF I thought, what on earth is going on?! There is no way I can go and drink the medicine this Friday. The doctor ordered that I go back to England as soon as possible and head straight to a hospital as I was not covered for any more medical care.

Dodging the bullet

As I literally step off the plane at Gatwick my pains disappeared. Crazy. Just 24hrs ago I couldn’t eat a thing and I couldn’t even walk. I was just keeled over in pain. But no, the pains had gone. Phew I thought – I dodged that bullet!

Doctors and nurses could not find anything wrong me. I put it down to stress of the situation as I literally felt like I would have been facing my death going to that ceremony. Well at least I had a breather. I stayed at my parents house for a few weeks, deciding what to do with my corporate career which I had been trying to leave the day I started it.

The weeks went past and again something started tapping me on the shoulder. Whispering in my ear… your problems will not go until you drink me. Shaking it off I would try again to sort my life out thinking that returning to the concrete jungle of London would at least put me in good stead financially even if it felt like it squeeze every last drop of life out of me. I was back where I started, at the bottom of the pit in emotional tatters. I kept going round in circles and eventually ended up where I left – that I had to drink the medicine to find the true answers.

I began to research online centres in Europe where I could go. There were plenty in Amsterdam but it just didn’t feel right for me. Everyone I found was either the wrong time of the month, too expensive or didn’t feel right. I was beginning to get desperate and started looking for more underground goings on. I wasn’t having much luck…



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