Being Healed: An Ethnography of Ayahuasca and the Self at the Temple of the Way of Light, Iquitos, Peru

DENA SHARROCK BSocSci (Hons)

A thesis submitted in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy (Sociology and Anthropology)

School of Humanities and Social Sciences The University of Newcastle

December 2017

This research was supported by an Australian Government Research Training Program (RTP) Scholarship

STATEMENT OF ORIGINALITY

I hereby certify that the work embodied in the thesis is my own work, conducted under normal supervision.

The thesis contains no material which has been accepted, or is being examined, for the award of any other degree or diploma in any university or other tertiary institution and, to the best of my knowledge and belief, contains no material previously published or written by another person, except where due reference has been made in the text. I give consent to the final version of my thesis being made available worldwide when deposited in the University’s Digital Repository, subject to the provisions of the Copyright Act 1968 and any approved embargo.

Signed:

Date: 23rd December 2017

i ABSTRACT

This thesis explores the experiences, articulations and meaning-making of a group of people referred to as pasajeros: middle class Westerners and people living in Western-style cultures from around the globe, who travel to the Temple of the Way of Light (‘the Temple’) in the Peruvian Amazon, to explore consciousness and seek healing through ceremonies with Shipibo ‘shamans’ and the plant medicine, ayahuasca.

In the thesis, I explore the health belief systems of pasajeros, examining the syncretic space of the Temple in which Western and Eastern, New Age, biomedical, and shamanic discourses meet and intertwine to create novel sets of health beliefs, practices, and perceptions of the Self. Conceptualised in terms of rites of passage from states of dis-ease to (potentially) optimal wellness, this exploration occurs in the liminal phases of transformation where reimaginings of the Self and the world are hyper-mobilised.

The title of the thesis, Being Healed, refers to a series of complex processes that constitute the focus herein. I present experiences from pasajeros as they navigate their unique journeys through the process of ‘being healed’ with ayahuasca and the plant medicines; explore the notions they present of how they ultimately recognise ‘being healed’ in terms of an endpoint or goal achieved; and present my findings on the remarkably consistent representations of what many pasajeros came to understand as the ‘true’ Self—the embodied experience of their own (human) being, in what they perceive as a healed state: their Being, healed.

The thesis explores the Self as the central locus of experience and meaning-making in an increasingly globalised environment where the boundaries of cultural understandings intertwine with ambiguous boundaries of selfhood to create unprecedented, but surprisingly coherent, representations of health, healing, wellness, and the essential nature of the Self.

ii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to extend my heartfelt gratitude and appreciation for the generous support of Matthew and Klara, who welcomed and hosted me at the Temple of the Way of Light for the twelve month period of my fieldwork, and who have continued to guide me through what has turned out to be the most significant ‘rite of passage’ of my life. The vision, energy, and resolute focus you have maintained for the benefit of so many have been extraordinary. Similarly, to the staff at the Temple, I am sincerely thankful for the time we spent together and in awe of the incredible, selfless work you do. Very special thanks go to the maestras and maestros who have devoted their lives to service and healing, traveling through realms I could never have imagined, and making them available in ways that have acted to restructure my world and reality. Without you and the precious plants of the Amazon, none of this would have been possible. To all of the people I interviewed at the Temple of the Way of Light—I was not able to incorporate all of your stories, which was one of the most difficult parts of writing this thesis. The extraordinary experiences and insights that have ended up on the cutting floor have been grieved for. Every story was invaluable, each with their special complexities and nuances, and every one of them is precious to me. I hope you will be able to feel yourselves within these pages. Each one of you has influenced the direction this thesis has taken and will forever remain in my heart for the connection we’ve shared. In the world of academia, I am indebted to my supervisors for your steadfast support through the tumultuous ups and downs that I should, perhaps, have been a little less surprised about as I undertook a doctoral thesis focused on the exploration of consciousness! You have held me, both intellectually and emotionally. Terry Leahy, from the start, your directness, experience, wisdom, and open-mindedness have kept me honest and grounded; and I am grateful to Hedda Haugen Askland for your kindness and consistency, and for the depth of knowledge you’ve contributed, both to this thesis and to my development as an anthropologist. I owe very special thanks to Debbi Long. Although you were not recognised in an official capacity for the majority of my candidature, you have been there, unwaveringly, at every step from the very first moment I decided to walk the path of the anthropologist. From the grassy patches under the trees at the university, to the dining tables, cafés, trains, trams, cars and beaches—where you utilised the liminal spaces between land and sea to teach me about rites of passage—your unique, effusive passion and commitment across towns, states and countries have buoyed my anthropological journey from the very beginning. I am thankful that I can submit this thesis with an official acknowledgment of your commitment. I am grateful for the insight, knowledge and wisdom of Barry Morris. It was your course that awoke the anthropologist that lay dormant within me, and your generosity and steadfast guidance that nurtured me through my first years of research. In the corridors of the School of Humanities and Social Science at the University of Newcastle, I would also like to acknowledge the dedicated and passionate staff who have openly shared their excitement and ideas. My eternal gratitude, too, goes to the many people I have met who work so tirelessly in the service of others: Paul Roberts, Lily Hollister and Luke Smith, Chloe Francis and Tess Neoh, Cielo Tierra, the online community of ayahuasca researchers—particularly Bia Labate and Alex Gearin—and Steve McDonald and the community of psychedelic researchers and advocates that come together through the deeply informative forums provided by Entheogenesis Australis. Each of you, in your own unique ways, have iii nourished my passage through this most challenging phase of my life. Exploring consciousness—exploring the Self—is certainly not all rainbows and unicorns! Your wisdom, guidance and compassion have been invaluable. I emerge from my own rite of passage knowing far more—and far less—than I ever could have imagined, and I thank you. I am aware now, more than ever, of the immeasurable value of friends. Penelope Aelfin, Nicola Lowe, and Rachel Stephenson—our conversation on that sweet summer night in 2008 ignited my passion to explore the world of ayahuasca, and your friendship, compassion and wisdom have never wavered through the years or across the physical distances that have stood between us. Sue Bathgate, Suzanne Rienits, Sue Lenord, Helen Mealy, Wendy McDermott, Charlie Matthews, Steve Buckman, Gisela Tonat, Lynda Jelley and the incredible people I shared Hakomi Psychotherapy training with; and my crazy cohort of PhD researchers—especially Georgie Ramsay, Sarah Kabanova, Jo Grant-Hiles and Liana Green—each of you have been foundational in maintaining my sanity (and sometimes even in retrieving it when I feared it might be lost!) To Glyn, from beginning to end, your commitment to supporting me through these years of research has been nothing short of heroic. For allowing me to drag you to the depths of the jungle, and to the depths of the dark places we’ve visited in this exploration of self, I thank you sincerely. To my son, Max, I am so glad you embraced the chance to visit the Temple and to share the experiences we had in Central and South America. The lightness and loving kindness that you embody as you walk on this earth forever remain a deep source of inspiration for me. And finally, to my wonderful family, especially to Mum, Dad and my grandfather, Gugs: my choices have continued to tear you from your comfort zone, but never have you wavered in your confidence and trust in me. No matter where I go in this world, you have unfailingly provided me with a safe place to land. Without your emotional and financial support, this thesis could not have happened. Thank you.

iv TABLE OF FIGURES

Figure 1: The Temple’s main maloka and lagoon, Centre 1 16

Figure 2: Hand-woven chitonti and beaded belt 21

Figure 3: Maestros dressed for group photo. Maestro Jorge wears a cushma 21

Figure 4: Maestra Anita on a jungle walk with her pipe, bag & tobacco pouch 23

Figure 5: Maestro Jorge prepares and ayahuasca brew 25

Figure 6: Personalising the tambo 34

Figure 7: Welcome to the Temple of the Way of Light 46

Figure 8: Motocarros on the streets of Iquitos 47

Figure 9: Remedies for sale at Iquitos' local marketplace in Belen 49

Figure 10: Cargueros 52

Figure 11: A focus on females provided a significant point of difference for the Temple. Maestras Rosa, Maria & Juanita prepared for group photos 55

Figure 12: Typical lunch at the Temple 74

Figure 13: Hand-woven and drawn kené patterns, Shipibo markets, Main maloka 80

Figure 14: A gift to pasajeros: Maestras soplar pieces of ayahuasca with tobacco (mapacho) smoke 82

Figure 15: Maloka 1 prepared for ceremony 86

Figure 16: Maestro's ayahuasca, purge bucket and rolls of mapacho cigarettes 87

Figure 17: Maestras ready to provide floral baths 93

Figure 18: Maestras and group facilitator prepare vomitivo 94

Figure 19: Ingredients for a steam bath 95

Figure 20: Maestra Rosa ready to dispense plant medicines 95

Figure 21: Maestra applies tar from the stem of her pipe to a skin laceration 96

v GLOSSARY

Note: The abbreviations ‘Span.’ and ‘Sh.’ (in brackets), utilised throughout the thesis, indicate translation to or from Spanish or Shipibo, respectively.

Brujo (Span.) a practitioner of brujeria or ‘witchcraft’.

Chupar (Span.) meaning ‘to suck’. A technique used by ayahuasca healers to remove blockages from the patient (see p.83)

Dieta (Span.) refers to the food, drink and social restrictions associated with ayahuasca ceremonies as well as the practices undertaken by the Shipibo oni as part of their apprenticeship (see pp. 70-6).

Maestra/o/@ (Span.) meaning ‘master’ or ‘teacher’. This is how the Shipibo healers are referred to at the Temple of the Way of Light. Note: In Spanish, an ‘a’ at the end of a word denotes the feminine version while and ‘o’ denotes the masculine. Where reference is to both females and males, the default is to use ‘o’ for the collective. Because the availability of female healers was relevant to many participants in this research, I have found it necessary to discern at times between the female, male and collective group of healers. I have therefore chosen to use the ending @ when referring to the collective consisting of both sexes: maestr@s.

Maloka (Span.; also maloca). Structure somewhat like a yurt in its footprint; a roundhouse of sorts. Defined in the Merriam-Webster dictionary as ‘a large communal dwelling of some South American Indian peoples.’ It has traditionally been used in some villages as a communal dwelling space and has also been utilised historically as a communal ritual space. At the Temple (and in many other centres where Westerners are now participating in ayahuasca ceremonies), the maloka is the ritual space that is used for the purpose of conducting ayahuasca ceremonies. In this context, it is usually raised off the ground and consists of a timber floor and often, but not always, a central pole which supports and elaborate structure of beams in the ceiling over which palm leaves are used for the roof. Where there are walls, they are constructed of timber and may extend from floor to ceiling in sections. Most often, however, they stand

vi only a short height from the floor with open areas screened with nylon netting. In some cases, the entire space from floor to ceiling is screened (see p. 84 for specific description of how the maloka is set up and used for ceremony at the Temple).

Onanya (Sh.) meaning ‘one who has knowledge’. Refers to the healers/shamans.

Onanya Ainbobo (Sh.) meaning ‘woman with knowledge’ or ‘wise woman’ (I did not hear the masculine alternative used).

Oni (Sh.; pron. Ooni) meaning ‘knowledge’. The Shipibo name for ayahuasca. Oni kobin means ‘cooked/prepared knowledge’ and is an alternate name (although rarely used in the field).

Soplar (Span.) meaning ‘to blow’. Used by ayahuasca healers to ‘infuse’ additional medicine into the patient and/or to protect the medicine they have applied (see p. 82).

Tambo (Span.) Usually constructed from similar materials to the maloka, the tambo is a simple sleeping hut, consisting, at the Temple, of one room, an ensuite, and often a small deck.

vii TABLE OF CONTENTS

STATEMENT OF ORIGINALITY I

ABSTRACT II

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS III

TABLE OF FIGURES V

GLOSSARY VIII

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION 1

Some Notes on Terminology 3 Health Belief Systems & Meaning-Making 4 Exploring the Navigation of Liminality 6 The Changing Face of Resistance & Healing 8 Reformulating the Meaning of Health & Responsibility in the ‘New Age’ 11 The Temple of the Way of Light: An Introduction 14 The Shipibo: A Cultural Overview 17 Ayahuasca: A Cultural Construction 24 Dichotomised Western Discourses: The Birth of Ambivalence 27 Indigenous Discourses: Ayahuasca and the Plant Spirits 29 Experiencing Ayahuasca 31 Ayahuasca and Anthropology: Positioning the Thesis 32 Background and Research Methods 33 Data Collection 37 Data Analysis 40 A Phenomenological Focus on the Body, Mind, and Spirit 41 The Researcher: Coming to Terms with Myself as a Location 43 Outline of The Thesis 44

CHAPTER 2: FIELDSITE: A TEMPLE IN A JUNGLE NEAR A FRONTIER TOWN 46

Location: Iquitos, Peru 47 Fieldsite: Temple of the Way of Light 50

viii Origins and Staffing 51 The Dark Side of Amazonian Curandismo and ‘Doing Business’ in Iquitos 53 The Move Toward Shipibo Shamanism 55 The Name 57 The Vision 57 The Non-Government Organisations (NGOs) 61 Alianza Arkana 62 Chaikuni Permaculture Institute 63 In Continuing Development 64

CHAPTER 3: WORKING WITH PLANT MEDICINES AT THE TEMPLE 66

The Ontology of the Shipibo 66 The Plant Dieta 70 Nature’s University 70 Other Applications of the Dieta 74 Techniques of Healing 76 Ikaros 76 Kené 79 Soplar 82 Chupar 83 Ayahuasca at the Temple 84 Description of a Temple Ceremony 84 Complementary Practices & Medicines 93 Floral Bath 93 Vomitivo 94 Steam Bath 95 Massage 95 Consultations and Remedies 95 Mapacho: Jungle Tobacco 96 Introducing a Psychological Focus to Ayahuasca Shamanism 97 Conclusion 99

ix CHAPTER 4: LIVING THE (WESTERN) SELF 101

Individualising the Western Self 102 Embodying a Self 104 The Body-Mind and Spirit Complex & Ayahuasca 106 Healing the Body and the Body-Mind 108 Boundaries and Barriers of the Self 116 Traversing the Edges of Consciousness 117 The Boundary and the Barrier 119 When Push Comes to Obliteration 123 A Recalcitrant Barrier: The Victim 127 Conclusion 130

CHAPTER 5: LIVING THROUGH THE SELF 133

Our Culture is Broken 133 Dividuality, Partibility, Permeability, Essence 136 Through the Realms of Maestr@s 138 Permeating the ‘Cultured’ Self 141 Clairvoyance 142 Purging For Others 145 Connection with Spirits 151 A Symbiotic Relationship: Nature as a Constituent of Self 157 The Nature of (Human) Nature: The Essential Self 159 Conclusion 163

CHAPTER 6: LIVING HEALED, BEING WELL 166

Transcending Ordinary Consciousness: The Peak Experience 166 Authenticity 170 The Authentic Self in Essence 174 Flow 175 The Body Barrier 177 The Mind Barrier 180 Flow and the Essential Self 184 Gratitude 186 Awe 188 Love 189

x

Seeking Healing; Looking for Love 190 Living Love with Ayahuasca 191 Love and God 194 Love as Medicine 196 The Loving Healer 198 Conclusion 200

CHAPTER 7: MAKING MEANING OF BEING HEALED 203

Biomedical/Psychological Discourse 204 Shipibo Discourse 205 Western-Eastern Philosophy Discourse 206 ‘New Age’ Quantum Physics Discourse 210 New Age, Holistic, Body-Mind Discourses 216 Case Studies: Syncretising Cultures in the New Age of Neo-Shamanism 221 Case Study 1: Seth 221 Case Study 2: Big Matt 225 Case Study 3: Liana 228 Multiplicities and Similarities 231 Conclusion 234

CHAPTER 8: CONCLUSION 235

REFERENCES 246

APPENDIX 1: TYPICAL WORKSHOP SCHEDULE 287

APPENDIX 2: INTERVIEWEES 291

APPENDIX 3: MAESTR@S 293

xi CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION

[This journey] was a long time coming … I had been ‘living small’ for 10 years … living in this little box … [but] I’m here now and it’s literally been the toughest experience I’ve ever had in my life … I saw the plant medicine as a way of discovering more about myself … It feels like I’ve been in hell … and in Divine presence … How do I explain what I’ve been through? … I would just tell someone that ayahuasca’s here … to heal you … it’s a gift.

David (USA, 31, Business Owner)

In November, 2012, I arrived in Iquitos—an isolated but bustling jungle city in the north-eastern Peruvian Amazon—to explore the motivations and experiences that were being increasingly sought by people from around the world with the potent psychedelic Amazonian plant medicine, ayahuasca. During the course of the year that I lived and carried out fieldwork at the ayahuasca healing centre, the Temple of the Way of Light (‘the Temple’), I met many people like David who were looking for something ‘more’, sensing that the remedies for what ailed them were to be found within.

David had grown up under the strong influence of an overbearing patriarchal figure, and had arrived at the Temple feeling ‘small’, ‘weak’, unfocused, and physically and emotionally unwell. While he recognised ‘beautiful aspects’ to the Western culture of which he was part, he also identified it as ‘sick’, creating sick and depressed people who are ‘consumed with material items’ and who know only to look to pills for healing—people who have lost their sense of ‘magic’. Searching for natural ways to heal his insomnia, the moment David first read about ayahuasca on the Temple’s website, he felt that it had permeated his soul: ‘I believed that another culture could teach me something that I never thought was possible; that I could have magic in my life now’, he said. David had to overcome strong opposition from fearful family members before traveling to the Peruvian Amazon to participate in a series of seven ceremonies with Shipibo shamans (Onanya), and having never taken a psychedelic substance before, reports having discovered more about himself and the world than he had ever imagined possible.

Over the course of several ceremonies, David experienced the extremes of journeying through what he described as ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’. He recalled calling out to for help as he was filled with

1 snakes while experiencing the worst physical pain of his life; he encountered the ‘uncontrollable’ voices he had always lived with in his head, and felt that he ‘went insane’; and he was ‘catapulted into space’: ‘I was throwing up in space. I was lost; I was crying; I had to run out of the ceremony.’

Throughout his ordeals, David also identified different ‘presences’ that helped to guide and comfort him. The songs of the shamans—the ikaros—had guided him away from the snakes and into a ‘deep world of connection’ filled with ‘sapphire blue sentient beings’ after which he reported being able to see the energies that were flowing between the shamans and their patients: ‘Wow! This is healing! I know I’m in the right place’, he thought. On the next night— the night of his insanity—he sensed the presence of the spirit of Ayahuasca who instructed him to learn yoga and meditation: ‘You need to prepare for these ceremonies. You need to quiet these thoughts … If you don’t control these thoughts, they will make you sick’, the spirit of the medicine told him. He spent most of the following day reading and practicing meditation techniques so that when, during his experience of being lost in space that night, when he heard a voice admonishing him for not using his strength, he felt empowered to embrace the destiny of his own healing:

I became a lion! It was beautiful … It felt so good and so deep; so strong. Then ‘boom’ I heard: ‘You’re not a lion. Stop laughing’, and I saw that voice as a separate spirit. And then as the lion, I ate it. I killed it … ferociously.

Ultimately David reported being rewarded by the spirits he had encountered in his altered state of consciousness as they showed him how they were working with the groups that were attending ceremonies. He recalled:

I just started rising and … I went into a room of gold … What It taught me there is that I’m in this vibration, this energy that can be whatever you want it to be; I can draw on it … I could see the emotions were separate, and how you can control them; how you can create them … it was so wonderful … I felt like the ego was dying … My brain was being fixed. It said: ‘The lesson we’re trying to teach you is that you can do all of these things. You don’t need ayahuasca.’

While the details of David’s experiences are unique, his ‘journey’ from a state of dis-ease to ‘being fixed’ reflects multiple themes that permeated the stories of hundreds of pasajeros I met at the Temple. They presented the face of a cultural construction that was ailing, exposing the discontent of a Western middle class that is experiencing an increasing sense of alienation and isolation that they identify as pathogenic. The medical apparatus available to them, they consistently lamented, is insufficient for the deep, abiding healing they long for. In pursuing an alternative approach to ‘medicine’ within a profoundly different cultural environment, however, 2 far more than their ‘health’ required transformation. The categories of disease, health, wellness, and the Self—the very foundations of identity—necessarily underwent often-radical reconceptualisations.

In this thesis, I will explore these transformations, focusing on the health belief systems of pasajeros as they navigate through the realms of the body, the mind, and the spirit—through the consciousness of the embodied Self—and draw on increasingly globalised discourses in order to make meaning of the extra-ordinary experiences they encounter. Within the syncretic environment of the Temple—an environment that is presented as simultaneously ‘traditional’ and ‘pioneering’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017m) and that is having a marked effect on the culture of ayahuasca ‘neo-shamanism’ that is spreading rapidly across the world—Indigenous technologies and worldviews are combined with tenets of Eastern mysticism, Western science, psychology and biomedicine, and New Age philosophy in unique and diverse ways that yet reveal striking similarities in the experiences of ‘being healed’. Through the lenses of anthropological literature on rites of passage, boundaries, purity and pollution, and multiple representations of selfhood, my aim is to contribute to the literature in the field of medical anthropology that explores complementary and alternative medicines (CAM) as Westerners travel to and through foreign terrains, both without and within.

SOME NOTES ON TERMINOLOGY

Pasajero is the Spanish word for ‘passenger’ or ‘temporary’ and is used at the Temple to describe the 12-day workshop attendees. Social anthropologist, Barbira Freedman (2014: 155) states that the term:

… is most familiar to Amazonian people from plane travel when they are addressed as “señores pasajeros”; it’s current common use to denote foreign visitors who attend ayahuasca ceremonies in the Iquitos area may originate from the fact that they were picked up from the airport to be taken to lodges, with a possible connotation of shamanic travel for vision seeking.

While groups of visitors to the Temple are usually referred to based on the programme they are attending—12-day workshop (pasajeros), Work Exchange (WEX), or Deep Immersion Programme (DIP)—I will, for expediency, often use the term pasajero generically throughout the thesis to refer to all visitors who participated in ceremonies.

Shipibo ‘shamans’ are referred to variously (in Iquitos and throughout the literature) as medicos, curanderos, ayahuasqueros and maestros. In Shipibo they are called Onanya, meaning ‘one who has knowledge’. While the term Onanya is introduced to guests at the Temple, the healers are most commonly referred to there as maestros, meaning ‘master’ or ‘teacher’ in Spanish. In 3 Spanish, an ‘a’ at the end of a word denotes the feminine version while and ‘o’ denotes the masculine. Where reference is to both females and males, the default is to use ‘o’ for the collective. Because the availability of female healers was relevant to many participants in this research, I have found it necessary to discern at times between the female, male and collective group of healers. I have therefore chosen to use the ending @ when referring to the collective consisting of both sexes: maestr@s.

While I recognise ‘Western’ and ‘Westerner’ as problematic terms (e.g. Morris, 1994), they were consistently used by the research participants in reference to their own culture, and themselves, as differentiated from Peruvian locals. Following their lead, I will utilise ‘Westerner’ to denote all non-Peruvians, and ‘Western’ to refer to traditions emerging from their home countries. It pertains to those with socio-economic means to travel to Peru to participate in workshops at the Temple. Similarly, like the pasajeros, I will utilise ‘Eastern’ to refer to Asian countries and the philosophical and mystical traditions that have emerged from that diverse region.

I will maintain the use of capital letters to denote Western, Eastern, and Indigenous populations. I will, however, shift between the use of capital and small letters in front of some words throughout the thesis, e.g. Self, Other, Ayahuasca, Love, Nature, etc. I will capitalize ‘Self’ and ‘Other’ when referring to them in terms of anthropological categories. Otherwise, the distinction will generally be made based on whether I am speaking of the secular or sacred nature of a thing. I will utilise a capital letter when I am referring to the sacred aspect or consciousness of a thing—the sacred or essential nature of the ‘Self’ as compared to the existential or lived aspect of the ‘self’ in ordinary consciousness; the sentient, conscious form of ‘Nature’ as compared to the natural environment or the ‘nature’ of the self; the spirit of ‘Ayahuasca’ as compared to ‘ayahuasca’, the vine or tea; the divine nature of Love as compared to generic references to love as used in everyday contexts.

HEALTH BELIEF SYSTEMS & MEANING-MAKING

Kleinman (1980: 24) represents the ‘health care system’ as a ‘cultural system, a system of symbolic meanings anchored in particular arrangements of social institutions and patterns of interpersonal interactions.’ He insists that in order to understand the actors, treatment regimes, and concepts of health and illness in a given situation, incorporation of the cultural context within which actors are embedded is foundational. The ‘health care system’ for Kleinman (1980: 24) is a system of beliefs regarding ‘causes of illness; norms governing choice and evaluation of treatment; socially-legitimated statuses, roles, power relationships, interaction settings and institutions.’ Having developed his models from ethnographic fieldwork carried out

4 in India and East Asia where both ‘folk’ and Western medicine are utilised, Kleinman (1980: 105) makes a distinction between ‘health care models’, which he identifies as those background understandings that exist independently of particular sickness events—i.e. generalised forms of understanding health and illness—and ‘explanatory models’ that relate specifically to ‘an episode of sickness and its treatment that are employed’ by any or all of the actors involved. These may include patients, doctors, healers, friends and/or family and can have significant impact on both conceptualisations of the self and on treatments sourced to attend to health issues. Cameron et al. (2016: 45) list several other labels utilised to describe such models, including ‘illness representations’, ‘mental models’, ‘illness narrative’, ‘illness perceptions’, and ‘beliefs about illness’. I have chosen to utilise the term ‘health belief system’ to encompass both the cultural and social influences on an individual and the agentive, symbolic, personalised meaning they attribute to their health and wellness concerns.

In Western medicine where practitioners are ‘taught to cure, not to care’ (Eisenberg in Kleinman, 1980: 363), Kleinman (1980: 373) suggests that ‘cultural healing’ can become as important as any treatment protocol, particularly due to its capacity to elicit the production of ‘meaning’—personal, social, cultural, and even moral—from personal sickness events. Kleinman is certainly not the only person to recognise the value—and even necessity—of the practice of meaning-making as a means of successfully navigating challenging events in life. Lupton (2012: 166) argues that the macro-approach taken historically by sociologists that focuses predominantly on the ‘structure’ of the medical system is insufficient to analyse the role of medicine in the ‘lifeworlds’ of Western patients.1 This needs to be balanced, she says, by the micro-perspective that emphasises individual agency, ‘or the ways in which people can shape their own destinies and give meaning to their lives’ (Lupton, 2012: 166).

Psychiatrist, neurologist, and Holocaust survivor, Viktor Frankl (1985) similarly suggests that the processes of meaning-making are often central to determining health outcomes. The inability of some people to find a sense of meaning and responsibility in life, he says, can be causal for a wide variety of illnesses, can be the precursor to ‘giving up’ in situations where circumstances become too difficult, and can ultimately lead to suicide. Conversely, the recognition of meaning in even the most extreme situations of suffering, says Frankl, can

1 Lupton (2012: viii) defines ‘lifeworld’ as the ‘everyday sociocultural context in which meaning is generated’. Like Kleinman, she identifies the importance of investigating the ‘understandings, concepts and beliefs’ of all of the actors involved in medical encounters, and recognising the ways they have been shaped by ‘personal experiences, interactions with others, information derived from mass media and the internet, and membership of social class, gender, or generational groups as well as racial or ethnic groups’ (Lupton, 2012: viii).

5 provide the means for survival and healing. ‘Frankl is fond of quoting Nietzsche,’ states Allport (in Frankl, 1985: 11): ‘“He who has a why to live can bear with almost any how.”’

Lévi-Strauss (2010 [1978]: 9), too, stresses the importance of making meaning in its action to introduce ‘some kind of order’ to chaos. He states that ‘since, after all, the human mind is only part of the universe’ and that ‘the universe is not a chaos’, it is unsurprising that humans embody this need (Lévi-Strauss, 2010 [1978]: 9). ‘[T]o mean’ says Lévi-Strauss (2010 [1978]: 9) ‘means the ability of any kind of data to be translated in a different language.’ In this he is not suggesting the ability to speak a different world language, but rather to utilise words ‘on a different level’ as an isomorphic representation of a thing (Lévi-Strauss, 2010 [1978]: 9).

Specifically in relation to understanding the meanings of illness, Kleinman (1988: 185; emphasis in original) contends:

we cannot focus on the content … Instead we must inquire into the structure of illness meanings: the manner in which illness is made meaningful, the process of creating meaning, and the social situations and psychological reactions that determine and are determined by these meanings.

It is such an exploration—of translation of embodied experience; of finding meaning from chaos; of navigating a Self that has been earmarked for transformation—that forms the foundational approach of this thesis.

EXPLORING THE NAVIGATION OF LIMINALITY

When pasajeros arrive at the Temple, they do so with goals, hopes and aspirations in mind. While these may be diverse, the trajectory is similar for each: they arrive in a state that they are somehow dissatisfied with, and aim to depart feeling ‘better’. It is on the journey between these states—through the liminal phases—that my exploration takes place.2

‘Liminality’ was a term first coined by van Gennep (2004 [1960]) in reference to the ambiguous phase within rites of passage that transpires for participants as their pre-ritual state (or status) is transcended but before the transition to their new state (or status) has been completed. In his work to develop and expand on van Gennep’s concepts, Turner (1967: 93-111) refers to this middle phase, the ‘liminal’ phase, as that which is ‘betwixt and between’: an unstable, unstructured, ambiguous and therefore potentially dangerous time in which ‘[t]he symbolism

2 I follow Turner (1967: 94) who refers to a ‘state’ as ‘any type of stable or recurrent condition that is culturally recognised.’

6 attached to and surrounding the liminal persona is complex and bizarre’ (Turner, 1967: 96).3 The liminal phase is both destructive and constructive; a phase of ‘transition’, a ‘process’, a ‘becoming’, and ‘even a transformation’ (Turner, 1967: 94) in which ‘all customary categories’—social, cultural, political, religious—may become confused (Turner, 1967: 97). Thomassen (2009: 14) highlights the importance of ‘human reactions’ within this phase for contextualising ‘the way in which personality was shaped by liminality, the sudden foregrounding of agency, and the sometimes dramatic tying together of thought and experience.' In this context, cultural discourses and methods of making meaning become paramount in the formation of new identities that ultimately emerge.

The strong similarities between rites of passage and the experiences of ayahuasca ritual for Westerners have been widely recognised (e.g. Dobkin de Rios and Smith, 1977; Gearin, 2015; Lewis, 2008; St John, 2017).4 Jacques Mabit, the founder of Takiwasi Rehabilitation Centre—a residential centre in Tarapoto, Peru where drug addicts are treated with ayahuasca and other plant medicines (see Mabit, 2001, 2002, 2007; Takiwasi, 2011)—suggests that the lack of ritual and rites of passage in many modern cultures can be foundational in the development of addiction. This understanding strongly informs the approach he has developed in his treatment model. Because ritualised and properly supervised methods of exploring altered states of conscious are unavailable, he says, a void is left into which ‘the drug user sets off randomly with neither compass nor map, often finishing badly’ (Mabit, 2002: 27).

Lewis (2008: 110) refers to liminality within the context of ayahuasca ritual as an accurate representation of ‘the crisis period experienced by my informants [that] helps to explain how even radical shifts in identity and worldview are possible.’ A quest for these radical shifts is often instrumental for pasajeros who are increasingly seeking methods to heal the worlds that exist both within and without, in social and cultural environments that they often perceive in terms of pathogens: sick cultures that also require healing. In order to engage in the process of affecting their cultural environment, however, the focus has turned determinedly within. To change their culture, many indicate, they must change themselves.

3 It is interesting to note that Turner (1967: 94) refers to the ‘ritual subject’ as ‘the “passenger”’, just as ayahuasca ceremony participants in and around Iquitos are referred to as pasajeros. 4 Revealing a markedly different focus for some users of ayahuasca analogues and DMT, St John (2017: 146) has explored the milieu of electronic dance parties in which the ‘threshold state’ is augmented by ‘disc jockey/producer technoshamans’. The ultimate aim for these participants, he suggests, is the attainment of a state of entheoliminality in which the experience of the ‘divine within’ is prolonged in an attempt, not to return to society with a new status, but to remain in the ‘superliminal state’. While I did encounter a very small number of pasajeros at the Temple who were aiming to utilise ayahuasca in this way, it was far more common that they were seeking healing and guidance that would allow them to ‘draw’ that state through the integration phases, into their daily lives and ordinary consciousness, more akin to notions of enlightenment from Eastern mystical traditions.

7

THE CHANGING FACE OF RESISTANCE & HEALING

Within the first six weeks of arriving at the Temple, I met ‘Permaculture Guru’, Doug Bullock (see Bullock's Permaculture Homestead, 2017), who had arrived with his family to implement an extensive permaculture plan across the Temple’s grounds. He made a statement in one of our conversations that I did not recognise as particularly significant at the time, but which has since become central to my exploration. Doug was comparing the resurgence of psychedelic compounds and plants in the 21st century to the time of their first popular emergence in Western culture during the 1960s. While both movements clearly developed from countercultural motivations, he said, their focus has changed significantly. The ‘hippies’ of the 1960s and 70s became activists, firmly focused on creating upheaval in the established political and cultural environment in the world around them. The current genre of ‘psychonauts’, however, has changed the direction of their attention, now decidedly focused on the Self—the environment within—as the territory requiring radical upheaval.5

Beginning in the 1950s and developing through to the 1970s, a countercultural movement developed that has significantly impacted Western culture and Western conceptualisations of the Self. It marked the birth of the ‘New Age’ when the relationship between the Western individual and their cultural and natural environments underwent radical transformations. Originator of the term ‘counterculture’, Theodore Roszak (1969: 47), suggests that the countercultural movement developed from the ‘healthy instinct’ of the ‘young centaurs’ of the time to revolt against a culture that was ‘fatally and contagiously diseased’. Focused on rebellion against endemic social and financial inequalities, autocratic expressions of religious and social power, and the new threat of thermonuclear annihilation, Roszak (1969: 49) states that a new cultural phenomenon emerged. He says:

What makes the youthful disaffiliation of our time a cultural phenomenon, rather than merely a political movement, is the fact that it strikes beyond ideology to the level of consciousness, seeking to transform our deepest sense of the self, the other, the environment.

The large student population of post-war ‘baby-boomers’ in the United Kingdom and United States determinedly led this revolution: ‘an era of agitation and excitement [when] leadership lost authority’ (Owram, 2007: 159). For many, the emerging quest for increased agency and

5 The term ‘psychonaut’ literally translates to ‘sailor of the psyche’ and is used to refer to those who use altered states of consciousness to explore the ‘inner landscapes’ of the mind (see Ott, 2011).

8 self-empowerment was inextricably entwined with the use of both complementary and alternative medicines (CAM) and psychedelic drug use, as perceptions of ‘holistic healing’— newly incorporating notions of consciousness—began to infiltrate the Western psyche.6 It was during this time that the research of Harvard ethnobotanist, Richard Evans Schultes began to emerge on the effects of the plants used to brew ayahuasca (see Schultes et al., 2001).

In the USA during those earlier years, the potential of psychedelic substances for the purpose of healing, particularly in the field of psychiatry and psychology, was creating a great deal of excitement in academic and political circles, when ‘dozens of investigators around the world administered a dizzying array of psychedelic drugs to thousands of healthy volunteers and psychiatric patients’ (Strassman, 2001: 24). This practice lasted throughout the 1950s and 60s, funded generously by the government and private investors. Additionally, the CIA and military in the United States were secretly carrying out their own ‘largescale experimentation’, often on unsuspecting members of the public (Furst, 1990 [1972]: ix) in the hope of discovering ‘brainwashing or truth-serum agents’ (Strassman et al., 2008: 19).

Aldous Huxley (2004 [1954]) wrote about his own experiences with LSD and mescaline in wide-reaching publications which supported emerging theories that psychedelic substances might produce experiences akin to those of deep meditation and thus have value in the attainment of spiritual enlightenment and in assisting people with terminal illnesses to approach the death experience. While Huxley insisted that these substances must only be available in strictly controlled settings, his writings reportedly instigated a popular surge of self- experimentation, particularly with LSD and crack cocaine. Strassman (2001: 26) claims that increasing incidences of hospitalisations, suicides and birth defects, accompanied by highly publicised rejection of scientific research principles by ‘renegade Harvard professor’, Timothy Leary and his colleagues (see Williams, 1999: 319), led to ‘exaggerated’ media reports that exponentially increased public anxiety (Strassman, 2001: 26). He states that, while complications within controlled research settings were ‘extraordinarily low’ (2001: 27), psychiatrically unstable individuals who took unregulated doses, often combining them with other drugs and alcohol, encountered serious problems.

Strassman (2001: 27) states that, despite ‘objections of nearly every investigator in the field’, the US government passed a law in 1970 that made LSD and other psychedelic substances illegal. Further, he states that the instantaneous cessation of experimentation in this area created

6 Etkin (in Ross, 2012: 2) observes that: ‘Depending on one’s perspective, CAM is a category of exclusion, preventive and therapeutic modalities that fall outside the conventional U.S. medical practice, or a category of inclusion, a residuum of everything else, ranging widely from prayer to acupuncture to Ayurvedic plant medicines.’

9 a scenario in which ‘it was as if the psychedelic drugs became “undiscovered”’ (Strassman, 2001: 27). This period marked the beginning of the ‘War on Drugs’ that continues today (Furst, 1990 [1972]).7 It also marks the time during which Western discourses around psychedelics became dichotomised, simultaneously revered and demonised. By that stage, however, new ‘shamanisms’ had been ‘spawned’ (Atkinson, 1992: 322).

By the 1990s, Atkinson (1992: 322) suggests that ‘neo-shamanism[s]’ acted to replace Buddhism and Hinduism for seekers of alternative healing, providing ‘a spiritual alternative for Westerners estranged from major Western religious traditions.’ She says:

Particularly appealing for its ‘democratic’ qualities that bypass institutionalized religious hierarchies, the new shamanism is compatible with contemporary emphases on self-help, self-actualization, and—not incidentally—rapid results (Atkinson, 1992: 322).

Atkinson (1992: 323) states that within this environment, ‘questing neo-shamans [sought] to develop their own spirituality with help from eclectically borrowed wisdom from "older" cultures’. Similarly noting a ‘romance with the ancient, the primitive, and the occult’, Znamenski (2007: 363) attributes the growing popularity of neo-shamanism since that time to increasing ‘antimodern sentiments’ toward traditions that are perceived as being ‘devoid of spiritual and ecological values.’ In the current environment, despite prohibitive government legislation and the ongoing demonisation of psychedelics in public discourse, ‘underground’ ayahuasca sessions are increasingly carried out around the world (Bronfman, 2011: 300; Labate et al., 2017; Tupper, 2009, 2011) and ayahuasca tourism to the Amazon is growing at an ever- increasing rate (Batchelder, 2016; Callicott, 2016; Fotiou, 2016a; McKenna, 2004).

Within the years between the countercultures of the 1960s and the 2010s, the discourses associated with CAM, psychedelic drug use, and activism have undergone radical transformation in relationship with the Western Self, as each has instigated significant alterations in the others. Notions of holistic and complementary medicine largely informed by Western interpretations of Eastern philosophy are now rapidly infiltrating Indigenous discourses of plant medicine healing, creating the production of novel experiences of the ‘holistic’ Self as they are metamorphosed within these contexts. Emergent theories from the New Age genre informed by interpretations of quantum physics are simultaneously acting to identify personal consciousness as central and causal to health and wellbeing, not only for the Self but also in the external environment. Intricately intertwined with the adoption of holistic techniques of healing

7 While it is not within the scope of this paper, calls for regulation as opposed to prohibition of psychedelic (entheogenic) plants and an end to the ‘War on Drugs’ are currently increasing in response to what has been called its ‘complete failure’ (e.g. Douglas and McDonald, 2012; Jahangir et al., 2011).

10 by many disenchanted Westerners, globalised discourses are encouraging radical shifts in the meanings and practices of wellness and disease as individuals increasingly search for healing— and the nature of ‘reality’—within.

REFORMULATING THE MEANING OF HEALTH & RESPONSIBILITY IN THE ‘NEW AGE’

[A]lternative healing is not a newly fashionable trend but a well-established cultural strategy and a dynamic, heterogeneous feature of most contemporary medical landscapes: a way in which people seek to maximize their chances for well-being and adapt to rapidly changing or unfavourable circumstances, drawing on multiple sources and resources of knowledge and authority. Anamaria Iosif Ross (2012: 1)

In her PhD dissertation on healing with ayahuasca, Quinlan (2001) follows the journey of her own healing from illness, alongside that of five others who report being cured of chronic, and in two cases, terminal diseases.8 She proposes that illness, rather than being seen as something abnormal which needs to be fought and obliterated from human experience, may also be understood as something ‘normal, necessary and an important, evolutionary part of our life’ (Quinlan, 2001: 285). She suggests that illness has the potential to create an opportunity through which ‘life as we know it’ might momentarily stop, allowing for new perception, new direction, and an ‘expansion’ in consciousness beyond previous norms (Quinlan, 2001: 285). When illnesses are understood in terms of their ‘meaning’ in relation to the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual wellbeing of the sufferer, they can be reconceptualised as catalysts for personal growth. In this way, she says, they gain inherent value, themselves becoming potential medicines that incite health and wellbeing.

Quinlan’s focus on integrative approaches to healing is written with the purpose of informing a Western audience for whom concepts of illness and disease are primarily understood through biomedical discourses—posited as physical or psychological conditions that must be eradicated from the system, usually through the application of intrusive biomedical techniques. In her Anthropology of Alternative Medicine, Ross (2012: 9-10) states that this style of medicine has emerged in response to a reductionist, rationalist approach to disease, which prioritises ‘tidy and distinct categories of experience, therapeutics, and analysis’ as opposed to a whole-person approach. Often referred to within CAM discourses as ‘allopathic’ medicine—a medicine of

8 The subjects of this research had been diagnosed as follows: one was suffering with bulimia; one with liver cancer; one with breast cancer; one with ovarian cancer and encephalitis; one with a tumor on the collarbone; and the author was obese and suffered from asthma, severe ADHD, bursitis and plantar fasciaitis, the latter two which made walking very painful. In four of these cases, Quinlan reports that all available biomedical treatments had been exhausted without success.

11 opposites—this approach embraces practices akin to warfare: ‘We “attack” viruses and bacteria. We “battle” disease. We don’t give up the “fight” against death. We “wage war” against heart disease, cancers and death’ (Quinlan, 2001: 65).9 Allopathic (modern, bio-) medicine is thus posited as an aggressor—at war with pathogens; at war with nature (Ross, 2012-7). Some authors (e.g. Callicott, 1984; Krippner and Sulla, 2011) indicate this war has its origins in the Bible, which contains passages positing ‘man’s’ superiority over nature and ‘his’ right to control and manipulate all other living entities to ‘his’ own ends.10 Ironically, the increasing demarcation between human beings and nature, encouraged by the predominant spiritual text of the West, is also posited as one of the fundamental reasons that Westerners now experience ‘loss of soul’ (Moore in Krippner and Sulla, 2011: 345), ‘the empty self’ (Dobkin de Rios in Winkelman, 2005: 210), ‘spiritual impoverishment’ (Fotiou, 2010: 14), and ‘psychic dismemberment and disintegration’ (Berman in Krippner and Sulla, 2011: 334). By positing nature’s subordination to humanity as ‘natural’, the hierarchical, anthropocentric relationship that is established becomes, by definition, unchangeable (Yanagisako and Delaney, 1995). Many Indigenous forms of medicine, health and healing, however, challenge this tenet.

Within epistemologies that acknowledge interdependent relationships with nature, the reasoning that posits humans as separate from and superior to the plant and animal kingdoms is by no means ‘natural’, ‘normal’ or even common; it is a construction of health relatively unique to Western ontologies. Non-western epistemologies and ontologies are far more likely to emphasise the interconnectedness of humans, plants, animals, dead ancestors, the spirit world, and the cosmos (e.g. Feld, 1990; Finkler, 1994; Lévi-Strauss, 1966a, 1966c; Neu, 1975; Pollock, 1996; Roseman, 1990; Tonkinson, 1974; Tsing, 1988).

In Western societies, where more reductionist, secular epistemologies are prioritised, Quinlan (2001) and Ross (2012) note that alternative forms of medicine are being appropriated from Indigenous groups worldwide in response to intractable health issues where biomedicine has proven ineffective. Ross (2012: 16) posits this as a response of Western individuals acting to reclaim personal power and agency within a reductive system that focuses on the disease rather than on the patient. This argument follows Foucault (1975: 89) who argues that the ‘medical gaze’ relegates a person to a disembodied entity as a result of the dehumanizing nature of

9 The term ‘allopathic’ is commonly used to describe conventional biomedicine in CAM discourses and is derived from the Greek allos meaning ‘other’ or ‘different’, and pathos (or patheia) meaning ‘suffering’ (Quinlan, 2001; Ross, 2012). It ‘was originally coined to distinguish it from homeopathic medicine, emphasizing a therapeutic approach that relies primarily on treatment by opposites rather than treatment by similars’ (Ross, 2012: 51). 10 This particularly masculine approach, representative of patriarchal dominance is pertinent to many of the participants I will discuss in Chapters 4-7.

12 medical practices that necessitate the separation of the patient’s identity from their body. In this environment, the character of the individual is no longer considered. Controlled and supervised by ‘experts’, the ‘patient’ becomes ‘a docile body’ (Foucault, 1977: 135) that is worked upon. Ross (2012: 16) posits that the relationship between the patient and their alternative medicine practitioner stands in stark contrast as one that allows for a renewed experience of ‘power as a capillary network’. Further, she suggests that such an act of self-empowerment is a form of political rebellion, where ‘the quest for alternatives is a life call and act of freedom, a power- privileged state that begins with the care for the self’ (Ross, 2012: 93).

Modalities of CAM treatments that have become available since the 1960s tend to incorporate renewed dedication to the use of natural medicines and homoeopathy, often incorporating widely differing worldviews. In the beginning of the New Age movement, Hindu, Buddhist and Taoist notions of flow, blockages and energy healing were adopted from China and India. Quinlan (2001: 69) states: ‘This evolution was immensely important because it reopened the door to recognition for the crucial importance of the link between the physical body and consciousness.’ Alternative epistemological and ontological understandings accompanied these approaches to healing, often encouraging a new focus on ecological health in what Jamison (2001: 168) refers to as move toward ‘personal environmentalism’ in which the political became personal. These belief systems encompassed the importance of caring for and protecting the environment (Forstmann and Sagioglou, 2017), as well as the creation of symbiotic relationships between humans and nature (Ross, 2012: 158). Forstmann and Sagioglou (2017: 975) suggest that ‘psychedelics in particular may indeed contribute to people’s pro- environmental behaviour by changing their self-construal in terms of an incorporation of the natural world’. Within these systems, ontologies incorporating experience of interconnectedness between the body, mind, and spirit, and the human, natural, and cosmic environments thus started to become more familiar to Westerners who sought alternative approaches to their health and wellbeing (Bloom in Perry, 1992: 333-4; Ross, 2012: 41-2; 158).

Rather than these new forms of healing resulting in new paradigms that encourage personal empowerment, however, Quinlan (2001: 69-70) believes that the adaptation of these alternatives in Western societies has created distortions due to persistent underlying beliefs in the discrete individual. In search for the meaning of a disease or illness within systems focused on personal energy flow, spiritual belief systems, and holistic health, she says, the focus has been honed to individual imbalances, evolving into the belief that ‘we create our own reality’ (Quinlan, 2001: 69). Quinlan (2001: 69-71) suggests that in an environment of self-responsibility for imbalances and ill health, the surveillance of the individual has shifted from the medical institution to the group of peers who share similar ontological understandings emergent from CAM discourses. Elias (1994) attributes such shifts in surveillance as these to The Civilizing Process, where 13 increasing focus on the individual has been accompanied by corresponding increases in levels of shame, particularly around natural bodily functions, impulses, desires and passions. While acknowledging Foucauldian concepts of institutionalised technologies of coercion, Elias focuses more on the interaction of individuals and social groups on each other and remarks on how the internalisation of societal expectations has manifested in the normalisation of judgement between peers. Instead of laying blame for ill health on the environment or on pathogens in this new paradigm, the responsibility has instead fallen steadfastly on the individual. These notions have been extended by (contested) authors who, based on discoveries emergent from quantum physics, posit consciousness as the ultimate creative force (e.g. Capra, 1975; Chopra, 1989, 1993; Zohar, 1990; Zukav, 1979).11 In this understanding, the individual also becomes responsible for the ill health of the environment.

Considering the Western appropriation of Indigenous techniques of healing, Quinlan (2001: 70) posits this emergent pattern as problematic, having led to discourses in which illness has again been positioned as something to despise and to shun. She suggests that the imposition of guilt onto the individual is a new form of pathogen in an environment of increased self-surveillance (Quinlan, 2001: 71). As a result, she suggests that the quest for reintegration and a more ‘holistic’ and self-empowering approach to healing through popular CAM modalities has still fallen short of encouraging the reconnection between humans and humans, humans and Nature, humans and God which underlies many Indigenous epistemologies. Ayahuasca, she suggests, presents an alternative that may provide new alternatives.

FIELDSITE: THE TEMPLE OF THE WAY OF LIGHT

During the time of my fieldwork, the Temple of the Way of Light was arguably the largest purpose-built ayahuasca and plant medicine healing centre in the world, hosting upward of 700 visitors per annum.12 It was established in 2007 as a joint venture between Englishman, Matthew Watherston, and his newly acquired maestro, Javier Arevalo Shahuano during what turned out to be a tumultuous and relatively short-lived part of the Temple’s history. The Temple, which is located on approximately 175 hectares of Amazon rainforest, neighbours the small jungle village of Tres Unidos. Lying roughly 13km in a direct line southwest from the main tourist precinct of Iquitos in North-Eastern Peru, travel between the two traverses many

11 See Chapter 7. 12 This is my estimation, not a claim made by the Temple. While it is currently impossible to obtain official statistics pertaining to Ayahuasca tourism in Peru, I questioned several leading academics in the field of ayahuasca research about this observation during the course of my fieldwork. None were aware of a centre that catered for more visitors at that time.

14 more kilometres, and can take anywhere from two to six hours by bus or motocarro, boat and foot, depending on the season and local political environment.13,14 The Temple has predominantly focused on 12-day retreats during which participants experience seven ayahuasca ceremonies along with a range of complementary activities and treatments.15 It was one of the first destinations established for Westerners in Iquitos to adopt the Indigenous Shipibo approach to ayahuasca healing, and was also the first to incorporate a majority of female practitioners. Today, the development of the Temple continues to unfold around an elaborate vision to create a self-sustaining, permaculture-based facility where multiple cultures are intentionally combined to produce a syncretic health system relevant to ‘everyone on the planet irrelevant of race, creed, color and social or financial status’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009f).

The Temple is comprised of three independent centres, which are built across approximately 20 hectares of land. Each of the centres has its own purpose and ‘personality’ and each—as part of a living system in a decidedly organic environment—is in a constant process of change. Somewhere between 50 and 100 (and sometimes more) local (mestizo), Indigenous (Shipibo) and Western (gringo) staff are employed at any given time, depending on the stages of development and maintenance it is in.16,17

During the time of my fieldwork, the original centre, commonly referred to as Centre 1, was (and, at time of writing, remains) the busiest of the three centres, hosting 12-day workshops twice every month. Each workshop accommodates 21-22 pasajeros and incorporates seven

13 High daily temperatures (ranging from 21-22°C to highs of 31-33°C) combined with high rainfall (170mm to over 300mm per month) and humidity of around 80% all year combine to provide a consistently steamy environment. There are two recognised ‘seasons’ in the Equatorial Amazon – the wet season (November to May) and the drier season, during which the average rainfall drops but the humidity remains constant. During the wet season, the rivers can rise up to 15 metres, which results in significant changes to the surrounding land and thus the accessibility to townships and establishments like the Temple. 14 There were times of political unrest in the city. During the last months of my stay, there were several rolling strikes in Iquitos, protesting against corruption in the political and judicial sy. On the days of the strikes, men would drive through the streets, dumping rubbish from trucks and breaking bottles across the roads—reportedly for the purpose of restricting the use of motocarros and official vehicles—and reports of violence, against both people and buildings, were frequent. Tourists were strongly advised to remain indoors or close to the central Plaza de Armas where police presence was high. At these times, the Temple boats were required to choose alternative ports to collect visitors, which could add several hours to the journey. 15 See Chapter 2. 16 The Spanish term, mestizo, is used to refer to people of combined European and Indigenous decent; they constitute the largest percentage of the Peruvian population (approx. 50%) and the vast majority of the population in Iquitos. 17 While the Spanish term gringo is used derogatively in many areas of Central and South America, it is a neutral and widely used term in Iquitos to refer to foreigners.

15 ayahuasca ceremonies with six or seven maestr@s in attendance throughout. The cost for this workshop at the time of my fieldwork was approximately AUD1,900 per person.18

During the first nine months of my stay, a Work Exchange program was available for people who sought a longer period to ‘work with the medicine’. It ran for 3 months at a cost of approximately AUD1,100 per month. At that time, attendees (known as the ‘WEX’) would participate in one 12-day workshop per FIGURE 1: THE TEMPLE'S MAIN MALOKA & LAGOON, CENTRE 1 month in Centre 2 (affectionately known as ‘the Nest’), thus experiencing 21 ayahuasca ceremonies over the duration of their three-month stay. These workshops ran on the same timetable as those in Centre 1 but were smaller, with between 12 and 14 participants attending ceremonies with one maestra and one maestro. Between workshops, WEX participants would move to the then-newly completed Centre 3 for the remainder of each month during which they would carry out a wide variety of jobs available throughout the Temple grounds.19 As it became clearer that this schedule was not conducive to allowing participants the time they required for integration of their experiences in workshops, nor to encourage a great deal of productivity during working phases, the Work Exchange program was amended in August, 2013. In its new form, it includes just one 12-day workshop and then a single ceremony once every fortnight throughout the duration of the three-month period. At the same time, the Deep Immersion Program (DIP) was introduced and immediately became the preferred option for long-term visitors, with WEX numbers dropping significantly to less than five participants per month.

18 The Australian dollar (AUD) was equivalent to approximately USD1.00 throughout the time of my fieldwork. 19 WEX participants had originally named Centre 3 ‘The Kingdom’ when it first began to operate, which was around the time of my arrival at the end of 2012. This name reflected its location on one of the highest points of the Temple grounds. Recognising insinuations of hierarchy not compatible with permaculture principles, they had renamed it ‘The Hive’ by the time of its completion in early 2013, focusing instead on the high level of activity that occurred in that centre in comparison to the ongoing focus on quiet contemplation occurring in the workshops that continued in the other two centres.

16 In the DIP, guests could choose to stay for one to three months, participating in one 12-day workshop per month with a range of ‘integrative’ activities including yoga, art therapy, qigong, tai chi, and various other complementary activities that were available for the remainder of their stay. All Deep Immersion participants remained in Centre 2 for the duration. Centre 3 remained the most active of the three, providing accommodation for the few WEX who continued to choose that programme and subsequently developing into the hub for the newly established Non-Government Organisation (NGO), the Chaikuni Permaculture Institute.20 Because of the increasing differences in the programmes running from one centre to the next, Temple protocol was established to maintain strict segregation between participants in each throughout their stays. This was done to ensure that ‘there is no crossing over of group energies or a “busy” environment’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2015).21

THE SHIPIBO: A CULTURAL OVERVIEW

The Shipibo are the only native group of the Amazon that have, after the conquest, maintained control over the banks of a great river: the Ucayali, the main source of the Amazon. Their business and conciliatory spirit, their ability to change settlement, their social cohesion strengthened by marriage exchanges, and the power of their Shamans, turned the Shipibo into a group resistant to the onslaught of missionaries, explorers and rubber hunters. Today, with their ancestral territory saturated by mestizo civilization and threatened by the chimerical nature of development, the Shipibo try to find their place in global economy without losing their identity. Ani Nii Shobo (2012)

‘The Shipibo’ are historically comprised of Shipibo, Conibo and four or more additional subgroups from the ethnolinguistic Pano family of Central Eastern Peru (Shell in Brabec de Mori, 2009: 142). Until the 1990s, they were collectively referred to in Western literature as ‘Shipibo-Conibo’ but are increasingly known by the simplified form ‘Shipibo’ in more recent times, in deference to a process of cultural homogenisation likely resulting from intermarriage and external mestizo influence (Roe, 1982: 35). Archaeological evidence suggests that the Shipibo have existed in the Ucayali region of Peru for around 1,000 years, with artefacts revealing historical contact with the Inca, a people that myths reveal have had a considerable impact on the Shipibo culture (Brabec de Mori and Mori Silvano de Brabec, 2009a, 2009b; Roe,

20 I will describe the Chaikuni Institute in Chapter 2. 21 Since the time of my fieldwork, all of the programs in these centres have undergone further changes. The most updated information is available on the Temple’s website (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017d).

17 1982).22 Current population estimates range anywhere from 20 – 45,000 (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 142; Charing and Cloudsley, n.d.; Dr Bii, 2013; Fotiou, 2010: 29), increasing from the estimates of 16 – 20,000 in the early 1980s (Roe, 1982), and risen from 9,000 Shipibo and 6,000 Conibo in the 1974 census (Behrens and Beierle, 2001). Presently, the Shipibo culture is in a phase of renewal as people cultivate new ways to thrive in their rapidly changing environment. Shipibo culture features complex gender relations, cosmologies, hierarchies and historically warring factions, comprised of a population who are responding to the hegemonous power of the West with intelligence and agency.

The first contact recorded between the Shipibo and Westerners occurred in the 17th century with the arrival of Franciscan missionaries.23 Subsequent interactions with members of the oil, rubber and logging industries, Western medical personnel, Peruvian government officials, and most recently with Western researchers has resulted in a demographic described by Behrens and Beierle (2001) as ranging from ‘well- … to moderately acculturated.’ The majority of the Shipibo peoples continue to live in small villages along the Ucayali River and its tributaries, however sizeable numbers are moving to the cities. In Pucallpa, they constitute the majority of the population who are settled in the ‘Indigenous area’ of the city known as Yarinacocha and are also increasingly moving to Lima to find work (Dr Bii, 2013; Shipibo Joi, 2013).

The Shipibo are arguably the most widely known Indigenous group in Peru, and are becoming increasingly well-known throughout the world, predominantly due to two of their valued cultural artefacts: the distinctive kené patterns reproduced on their artisanal creations, and their shamanism. Both of these artefacts are strongly linked to the health of the Shipibo people. Physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, creative, artistic, ecological, and social wellbeing, conceived as discrete and usually independent categories for Westerners, are recognised as inextricably intertwined expressions of relative harmony and thus wellness or dis-ease for the Shipibo. According to Brabec de Mori (2009: 137):

A Shipibo-Conibo human being is considered healthy when s/he is not suffering from pain or nausea. A man should be a good hunter and fisherman who likes working, knows how to produce items such as houses, tools, etc, correctly, and is respected in society. A woman

22 The lengthy discussions presented in each of these references concerning the relationship between the Shipibo and the Inca reveal great admiration and even idolisation of the latter by the former, which, as I will discuss in Chapter 3, is important regarding conceptualisations of the increasingly popular kené patterns that are central to Shipibo concepts of health and wellbeing and are now recognised globally as representative of ayahuasca shamanism. 23 While I will continue to utilise the term ‘Westerner’ for the sake of consistency in this thesis, Brabec de Mori (2014: 227) notes that from the ‘native perspective: "gringos" definitely originate from the north, not from the west.’

18 shall work quickly and efficiently and be onan (in their case producing fine artwork like ceramics and textiles) and be at good terms with the extended family. Correct alimentation is a valid criterion for both genders, as are artistry and immaterial aspects of onan (i.e. knowing at least some songs and being able to perform them in an aesthetically satisfying way). One is also expected to have some basic knowledge about rao [master] plants, their preparation, and application.

Conceptualisations of health for the Shipibo, then, involve far more than the absence of invading viruses, infection, fever and/or pain. Fundamental to this representation of wellbeing is an implicit element of harmony as reflected in personal creations and the relationships existent between an individual and their external environment.

Men would typically fish, hunt, cultivate foods on the land, build and construct tools and other useful implements while women ran the house, caring for their children, cooking, weaving and engaging in the creation and painted decoration of pots and dishes. Through the sale of many of these items, women maintain financial independence and have subsequently embraced the responsibility for providing for the highly valued education of their children (Behrens and Beierle, 2001). Nearly forty years ago, Roe (1982) suggested that while women had long had access to financial income due to their production of craft items to tourists, men, with their focus instead on hunting and cultivating, rarely engaged in the cash economy. This, however, is changing as their shamanic practices become more popular (Brabec de Mori, 2014).

Shipibo culture is matrilocal, with men moving into the woman’s family home after marriage. Women in the Shipibo culture enjoy a substantial degree of autonomy, however patriarchal ideologies and structures are also strongly established within a complex web of gender relations. A comment on the website for ayahuasca lodge, Ani Nii Shobo (2012) notes as surprising that a culture in which women have so much relative power, until around 50 years ago, incorporated the practice of clitoral removal at the onset of puberty. In Shipibo culture, the ani shrëati or ‘big drinking’ ceremony which occurs after a girl’s first menstruation is elaborate. Historically this rite of passage was held over several days, involving the entire community and incorporating heavy drinking of alcoholic manioc beer (masato), singing, dancing, socially sanctioned fighting and the ‘killing of pets’ (Roe, 1982: 109). Despite extensive research and consultation with the Shipibo villagers with whom he cohabited as he carried out his fieldwork, however, Roe was never able to ascertain the reason for the practice of clitoral removal as part of the ritual.24

24 For a detailed description and analysis of both this ceremony and the Bëstëti Shrëati or hair cutting ceremony for the young woman that was celebrated shortly afterward, see Roe (1982: 93-109).

19 While Shipibo communities are often described as egalitarian, Behrens and Beierle (2001) note that in fact ‘male heads of the largest families exercis[e] the most influence,’ with those having the most wives and/or the greatest hunting or medical skills customarily most respected. The authors suspect that the influence of missionaries has been responsible for the decline in polygamous families (Behrens and Beierle, 2001), which were once ‘universal’ (Mooney, 1913) and further report that the men were historically involved in raids for the purpose of obtaining wives and slaves. Roe (1982: 104; 107) comments on the ‘ease’ with which ‘Shipibo women carry on extra-marital affairs’ with ‘fairly continuously philandering’ men. The ‘fighting’ aspect of the ani shrëati ceremony was in fact an avenue for jealous partners to express the built up aggression that resulted from this behaviour and incorporated the use of blades. While the fights were, to a degree, symbolic, harm was sometimes done, particularly when poison was used on the blade, causing intense pain for the recipient of a cut several months following the staged fight (Roe, 1982: 109).

The majority of the history and lifestyle elements that I have so far discussed rarely enter the awareness of Western visitors. Historical academic sources are not readily available to the general public and are, in the main, very dry reading. In the vast majority of cases, representations of the Shipibo most often reach a curious public through destinations selling ayahuasca shamanism or by NGOs who are requesting donations to support the Shipibo people.25 Positive representations of a ‘generous people of incomparable exuberance’ (Ani Nii Shobo, 2012) are prominent. The following paragraph from Ani Nii Shobo (2012), one of relatively few ayahuasca retreat centres near Pucallpa advertising to Westerners during my exploration for a fieldsite in 2012, is typical of the popular representation of Shipibo people:

If anything distinguishes this way of life they are trying to keep, is the proverbial autonomy provided by the forest in which (and by which) they live. With the knowledge gained from their parents and grandparents, the Shipibo can hunt, fish, farm, cook, build houses and canoes and identify herbal remedies for their illnesses; food, shelter and healing. Based on this knowledge they can form a family and live well, with no major complications. Until recently, money was not needed to lead a full and happy life of plenitude; indeed, the emergence of money has been accompanied by great tension.

While it is a relatively romanticised representation, such descriptions indeed do justice to the extraordinarily kind, friendly and harmonious face of the culture that visitors will most often encounter when they visit Peru. The Shipibo people I met, particularly those who were working

25 The Temple of the Way of Light is a rare exception in this regard in that they do not have a section on their website dedicated to the Shipibo culture in general but rather focus only on Shipibo shamanism.

20 at the Temple, consistently displayed tangible kindness and visible cheer within firmly established daily practices of communal living.

The traditional dress of the Shipibo women remains the key identifying feature for foreign visitors. They will commonly wear the chitonti (Roe, 1982: 60), a brightly coloured and often intricately embroidered ‘tube skirt’ that is commonly worn today with a vibrant uniformly coloured, long-sleeved shirt displaying a wide frill that circles the chest and upper shoulders in a contrasting colour. The shirt, says Hern (2004: 808), was inspired by missionaries who were uncomfortable with the previous lack of covering for women from the waist up. Brabec de Mori (2014) suggests that as the popularity and interest in the Shipibo peoples and their wares increases for Western FIGURE 3: HAND-WOVEN CHITONTI & BEADED BELT tourists, the use of traditional dress is also increasing, particularly within the city populations where Western fashions are commonly embraced. The men generally wear Western-styled attire, only sometimes donning their traditional cushmas in ceremony. The cushma resembles a poncho or a long cotton shirt. It is made by the women and covered in kené designs that are either woven into or dyed onto the fabric.26

Regarding the cosmological and religious beliefs of the Shipibo, Behrens and Beierle (2001) state that it is now difficult to extricate traditional beliefs from those that have been introduced by Christian missionaries. While it is beyond the scope of this thesis to explore the complexities of this belief system, there are two aspects that I would like to highlight in order to contextualise the discussions that follow. The first of these is in reference to the incorporation of ‘white man’ into existing Shipibo cosmology. In 1922, Farabee (in Roe, 1982: 113) discussed the Shipibo conceptualisation of FIGURE 2: MAESTROS DRESSED FOR the heavens. He said they recognised: GROUP PHOTO. MAESTRO JORGE (LEFT) WEARS A CUSHMA.

26 See Chapter 3 for a description of the kené designs.

21 three heavens, all above, where the souls of the dead go. There were but two until white men came, when the lowest heaven was invented for them, the next higher for all the savages, and the highest for themselves, who are not savages but civilized men.

Roe (1982: 113) notes that in some regions, informants told him of five worlds: ‘two above and two below with earth in the middle’, relegating the white man’s heaven to the underworld in an hierarchical system in which they, as ‘civilized men’ are superior, especially to Westerners. Brabec de Mori (2014: 220)—who lived for several years in a local Shipibo village in Pucallpa, eventually marrying Shipibo woman, Laida Mori Silvano—states that in the current environment, while Shipibo people consider some ‘Northerners’ to be good candidates for shamanic work, the information they share is closely guarded. They will happily share ‘official’ information, not all of which is ‘exactly true’ while often withholding ‘unofficial’ information that they do not want ‘taken away’, both because of the financial threat and also due the possibility of sorcery being practiced against them (Brabec de Mori, 2014: 220).27 Ultimately, he says, most foreigners ‘are considered drogadictos ("drug addicts") because they like taking drugs and this is why they also like ayahuasca’ (Brabec de Mori, 2014: 221).

It is also interesting to note that it is highly likely that the relative importance of ayahuasca to the Shipibo culture has shifted as a result of the relatively recent interest given to it by Westerners. Contrary to the belief of many visitors who conceptualise ayahuasca as central to ‘traditional Shipibo culture’, there is a conspicuous absence of in-depth discussion on ayahuasca and shamanism in the vast majority of ethnographic material that was produced prior to the 1990s. Roe (1982: 123) states that at the time of his work: ‘narcotic plants play[ed] a less important role then [sic] they do for some other groups, like the Jívaro’. Further, he comments that: ‘Many Shipibo men have never tried nishi [the name used by his informants for ayahuasca] and are afraid to do so, fearing the bad visions that sometimes accompany the use of the drug.’ Brabec de Mori (2012b: 275) and Narby (2017) note that the relationship between the Shipibo and ayahuasca underwent a rapid and very recent transition in response to market forces once people became aware that those members most feared in their communities were attracting both attention and financial gain from foreigners for their work. As a result:

The ayawaska [sic] complex was quickly adapted: what was once marginal and scary received most interest from visitors (and therefore gifts and money) and so it was placed in the centre of “Shipibo culture” (Brabec de Mori, 2012b: 275).

Narby (2017) notes that this is an ‘intelligent’ adaptation born of an adept ability for mimicry emergent from the experiences of Shipibo people from living within Nature and learning the

27 Disparities in information that is being disseminated to Westerners will be discussed in Chapter 3.

22 techniques of effective hunting. In aiming to assist Westerners who are increasingly coming to them for help, ‘Amazonian shamans learn to speak the language that their Western clients understand and want to hear’, he says (Narby, 2017). He stresses that this is not to say that their medicine is ineffective, but rather that their representations of it reflects agency and intelligence, revealed in the swift adaptation and redefined (syncretised) applications of their cultural practices. Similarly, Brabec de Mori (2011: 44) suggests that: ‘Amazonian people have always been "modernizing" themselves flexibly and at a high pace, leaving behind our "modern Western society" as surprisingly conservative.’

At the Temple, Matthew often felt called upon, especially at times when the Temple was undergoing rapid growth, to defend his notions of adaptive cultural revival. He insisted that the syncretic nature of the practices utilised at the Temple is helping to support the ongoing survival of certain more traditional aspects of Shipibo culture—specifically the practices of medicine, traditional dress, and the skills of the artisans—that Indigenous youth were increasingly disinclined to embrace. In a loquacious response to criticisms that ‘foreign owned ayahuasca lodges’ represent new forms of colonisation that emerged on a FIGURE 4: MAESTRA ANITA ON A JUNGLE WALK WITH HER PIPE, BAG & TOBACCO popular local blog in Iquitos (Captain Bill, 2012), POUCH. Matthew quoted Wade Davis (2009: 127), who states:

Cultural survival is not about preservation, sequestering Indigenous peoples in enclaves like some sort of zoological specimens. Change itself does not destroy a culture, since all societies are constantly evolving. Indeed a culture survives … when it has enough confidence in its past and enough say in its future to maintain its spirit and essence through all the changes it will inevitably undergo.

While the Shipibo are now widely ‘considered to have among the most powerful ayahuasqueros’ (Narby, 2017), they remain firmly embedded in a culture that remains largely invisible to Western visitors. Western representations that incorporate increasing reports of miraculous healing and deep spiritual insights tend to prime tourists with romanticised expectations of utopia in the company of flawless ‘Others’. As Narby (2017) points out, however, the (arguably justified) recognition of the skills of Amazonian ayahuasqueros, does not translate to mean that they can act in the role of ‘Western-style therapists’ or ‘Eastern-style gurus’.

23 I regularly heard facilitators at the Temple similarly reminding groups that the ability of the Shipibo Onanya to interact with the spirit world does not make them enlightened masters. As Matthew pointed out to me, spirituality is not something that the Shipibo Onanya tend to talk about—unless, he said, their priority is telling the gringo what they think he or she wants to hear. An Onanya ‘straddles two worlds’ all the time, he said. For them, what we call the physical world and the world of plant spirits exist simultaneously in their awareness. To ask a Shipibo person about spirituality, they will speak not about enlightenment and nor will they likely speak with the wisdom of a sage as might be encountered in places like India and Tibet. They will speak of the world of elemental spirits, where both light and dark co-exist. It is a world of beauty and great knowledge, and, as I will discuss further in Chapter 3, it is also a world of jealousy, envy and retribution.

The Temple has had a significant influence on the culture of ayahuasca (neo)shamanism. As one of the more successful and enduring enterprises, its formulas are being widely copied. As a location, however, it has become an environment in which the tenuous interfaces of multiple needs and expectations continue to be navigated, and where the culture it is helping to create is being restructured in an ongoing dynamic interplay.

AYAHUASCA: A CULTURAL CONSTRUCTION

The term ayahuasca variously describes a woody South American vine, Banisteriopsis caapi, the beverage or ‘tea’ made from infusing this vine with other plants containing psychoactive substances—most commonly the leaves of the chacruna plant, Psychotria viridis—and the ‘spirit’ of the vine, an entity with agency that those who imbibe the brew may ‘meet’ while under its influence.28 As its use becomes increasingly globalised, to define ayahuasca, however, is anything but straightforward. Ayahuasca’s meaning, functions, modes of operation and efficacy are understood in terms as diverse as the cultures that are increasingly embracing it.

For Shipibo Onanya, ayahuasca is a discrete entity of consciousness—a healer, a plant teacher, and a mediator between the human and plant worlds where information can be obtained to maintain social harmony and personal wellbeing. Less inclined to accept the existence of plant consciousness with agency as a primary mode of functionality, Westerners have also sought scientific explanations. Subsequently, in line with a focus predisposed to individuality and

28 Highpine (2012: 7) identifies anthropologist, Luis Eduardo Luna, as the first who applied the name ‘ayahuasca’ to the brew that incorporated a DMT-containing plant. ‘Ayahuasca became, by definition, “orally active DMT”’, she states (Highpine, 2012: 7).

24 discrete components, Western biomedical, scientific, and political representations of ayahuasca have tended to incorporate conceptualisations of its efficacy in terms of its chemical constituents, recognised for its actions as a ‘drug’ that acts upon the human brain in ways not yet entirely understood. It is common throughout communities of Western ayahuasca drinkers to hear that the brew allows access to parts of the brain and therefore parts of an individual’s consciousness that are otherwise unavailable in ordinary waking states. Positing an even more intimate relationship between the plant medicine and human physiology, Narby (1998) suggests that ayahuasca may also facilitate access to the innate intelligence existent in human DNA (also see Mabit in Jeronimo et al., 2017: 116). For the majority of Western ayahuasca drinkers and practitioners, however, it is far more common to hear them speak of ayahuasca as a ‘medicine’.

As cultural ontologies combine, the world of ayahuasca neo-shamanism is emerging, informed by concepts from Indigenous worldviews and Western science, merged with discourses from the New Age, which is itself strongly influenced by Eastern mysticism, intertwined with ideals of ecological sustainability and other principles of permaculture. This has resulted in the creation of a multitude of hybrid understandings as diverse and individualised as the characters that now embrace this novel technology of healing, and is thus often fraught with contradictions and ambivalences. All of this occurs within an environment where the

FIGURE 5: MAESTRO JORGE PREPARES AN exchange of capital strongly influences the AYAHUASCA BREW landscape.

While there remains ongoing contention regarding how long ayahuasca has been used by Indigenous people throughout South America (see Brabec de Mori, 2011; Gow, 1996; Highpine, 2012), there is no disagreement that this plant medicine is now attracting ever-increasing numbers of international tourists, mainly to the Amazonian regions in the west of Peru, as well as to Brazil, Ecuador, and Colombia, for the purpose of procuring healing and experiences of spiritual growth (e.g. Labate, 2010; Lenaerts, 2006). Additionally, through the spread of several

25 Brazilian syncretic churches, which all use ayahuasca as a sacrament,29 as well as increased private use within Western shamanic ceremonies and by individuals, the use of ayahuasca is rapidly spreading throughout Europe, North America, Australia and New Zealand. This is all despite the status of its active constituent, N-N dimethyltryptamine (DMT) as a prohibited substance for use in most countries (Labate and Jungaberle, 2011).30

The name ‘ayahuasca’ comes from the Quechua language. Its meaning is contested within academic circles (for overview, see Highpine, 2012).31 The most common translation utilised throughout popular websites maintains that ‘aya’ means ‘soul’ or ‘dead spirit’ and ‘waska’ means ‘vine’ or ‘rope’. While Whitten (in Fotiou, 2010: 9) and Highpine (2012: 3) suggest that the most correct translation into English is ‘soul vine’ or ‘vine with a soul’, ayahuasca is most widely translated in English publications to ‘vine of the soul’ or ‘vine of the dead’.

Ayahuasca is unique in the field of psychoactive substances, in that the reported effects which facilitate its diverse uses result from the chemical interaction of two separate plants that, when used independently, have little to no effect on human consciousness. In the late 1950s, the ayahuasca vine was thought to be solely responsible for the psychoactive effects experienced by drinkers of the brew (Callaway et al., 1999: 244). More recent investigation, however, has revealed that the harmala alkaloids present in the vine are only mildly psychoactive, and that it is, in fact, the constituents of the companion plants that are brewed with the ayahuasca vine that are predominantly responsible for the psychoactive effect on the human organism. One of the most common companion plants utilised, and the only other ingredient brewed with the ayahuasca vine at the Temple, is the chacruna shrub, Psychotria viridis, which contains the potent hallucinogen, DMT. When ingested orally, DMT is metabolised by monoamine oxidase- A (MAO-A), which exists in the human digestive system. The harmala alkaloids in the ayahuasca vine, however, act as MAO-A inhibitors, temporarily ‘switching them off’ and, accordingly, allowing the DMT to become orally active and produce psychoactive effects.

The first known report of ayahuasca use by a non-Indigenous person dates back to the 1850s (Ott, 1994) but it was not until the 1990s that growing numbers of relatively wealthy tourists

29 Since the mid-1900’s, syncretic churches have developed in Brazil in which members practise a theology which incorporates ‘popular Catholicism, European esoteric and spiritual beliefs, African cosmologies, and Indigenous botanical knowledge’ (Santos et al., 2007). Members of the União do Vegetal (UDV—Portuguese: ‘union of the plants’), Barquinia and Santo Daime (Portuguese: ‘Holy Give- Me’; Blainey, 2015: 288) religions use ayahuasca in a way which more closely resembles rituals involving the Christian Eucharist (McKenna, 2004), imbibing the liquid on a weekly or fortnightly basis for the purpose of healing and for accessing the divine realm (Santos, et. al, 2007). 30 DMT will be discussed shortly. 31 The Quechua people are from the Central Andes region of South America.

26 began to travel to the Amazon for the purpose of seeking healing for what Beyer (2012b: 3) refers to as maladies of the well-nourished. These include obesity, diabetes, cancer, sexually transmitted diseases, heart disease, depression, anxiety and addiction; and by the turn of the century, stories of miraculous healing began to emerge which has in turn increased the popularity of ayahuasca tourism even further (Beyer, 2012b: 3). At that time, academic research into ayahuasca was scant (McKenna, 2004). In 2010, however, the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) held a convention. Writing about that convention, Beyer (2012b: 1) declared: ‘There was now such a thing as Ayahuasca Studies.’

Since then, research of and debate about ayahuasca have grown, with various discourses present within the political, medical and scientific landscapes. These discourses, outlined below, reveal some of the ambivalences that visitors to Peru and the Temple are often exposed to prior to working personally with ayahuasca.

DICHOTOMISED WESTERN DISCOURSES: THE BIRTH OF AMBIVALENCE

President Nixon’s ‘War on Drugs’ heralded the cessation of research into psychedelic compounds in the early 1970s and marked the beginning of strong public opinion that positioned—and continues to position—the use of consciousness-altering substances as deviant (Labate et al., 2016; Page and Singer, 2010).32 Following the criminalisation of psychedelics in the USA in 1971, the United Nations International Narcotics Control Board (INCB) classified DMT as a Schedule 1 substance (see United Nations, 2017). Kaplan (2011: 15) states that as a result, ayahuasca remains ‘a topic of international controversy’. DMT is found widely throughout the plant and animal kingdoms; a ‘naturally occurring psychedelic agent’ (Riba et al., 2001: 85) that is produced endogenously by humans (Mishor et al., 2011; St John, 2015; Strassman, 2001). This fact has led to the pithy observation that ‘ironically, it is illegal to possess a compound which is in fact naturally inside of all of us’ (Tryptamine Palace, 2017; emphasis in original). Shaepe (in van den Plas, 2011: 327) reveals a further complication in interpreting the legal implications of using ayahuasca, stating:

No plants (natural materials) containing DMT are at present controlled under 1971 Convention on Psychotropic Substances. Consequently, preparations (e.g. decoctions) made of these plants, including ayahuasca, are not under international control and therefore, not subject to any of the articles of the 1971 Convention.

32 Authors often refer to the notable exceptions of alcohol and tobacco (e.g. Nutt et al., 2010: 1; Page and Singer, 2010: 103).

27 That DMT and the plants that contain them are thus regarded differently, laws affecting the use of ayahuasca throughout the world reflect ambiguous interpretations of these restrictions. In Peru, the use of ayahuasca remains legal and it has recently been declared part of the national heritage (Fabregas et al., 2010). Its use has been protected by law in Brazil since 1986 (Soares and de Moura, 2011). Outside of South America, however, ayahuasca use is currently sanctioned only in the USA, the Netherlands and Spain.33 These exemptions apply only to the religious use of ayahuasca within the syncretic churches that have emerged from Brazil.34 Otherwise, the use of DMT has remained illegal throughout most of the Western world: a Category 9 drug in Australia, Class A in the UK, and a Schedule 1 drug in the USA, thus sharing the same classification with heroin as a ‘drug with no currently accepted medical use and a high potential for abuse’ (United States Drug Enforcement Administration, 2017).

Researchers across many disciplines are increasingly calling on governments to review this classification, often citing the comprehensive review on drug harms conducted by Nutt et al. (2010), which concludes that the legal categories of drug classification correlate poorly to evidence of harm. Research emerging from the disciplines of biomedicine, pharmacology, neuroscience, psychiatry and psychology indicates that ayahuasca is non-toxic, non-addictive and has no long-term detrimental side effects (see Frecska et al., 2016; Re et al., 2016). Indeed, the overwhelming consensus across all disciplines is that the beverage may be beneficial for the treatment of a broad range of issues.

This is, however, not to say that there are no dangers involved in participating in ayahuasca and plant medicine ceremonies. A small but increasing number of deaths have occurred within these contexts. Reports on the Erowid website (2017) contend that the causes of most reported deaths remain inconclusive. Within the community of ayahuasca researchers there is a general consensus that the use of admixtures such as tobacco and Brugmansia (also known as toé), and/or the setting in which ceremonies have been held are likely to be causal in most if not all cases where death has been reported.35 While Dos Santos (2013) cautions that pre-existing diseases of the liver or heart, and/or the use of anti-depressant or anti-psychotic medications are contraindicated, Gable (2007), in his risk assessment on DMT and harmala alkaloids, concluded that ayahuasca has a safety margin comparable to codeine and approximately twice as high as

33 While this information was correct at the time of writing, ayahuasca’s legal status across nations continues to change. For the latest information on legality and policy, see The Ayahuasca Defence Fund (2017). Also see Labate and Jungaberle (2011) for detailed information on legal cases around the world. 34 While Bronfman (2011) states that there is no further possibility for appeal in the USA, appeals remain outstanding in the Netherlands and Spain at the time of writing. 35 I take this information from a private online forum for ayahuasca researchers from across multiple disciplines worldwide.

28 alcohol when assessed for psychological and toxic hazards. Overall, scientific literature to date reflects Strassman’s (2001: 27) observations that complications arising from psychedelics such as ayahuasca within controlled settings are ‘extraordinarily low’. Reports in the media, however, continue to elicit moral panic around the increasing use of ayahuasca (e.g. Escobedo, 2014; McVeigh, 2014; Mooney, 2017), which acts to maintain divergent and often contrary discourses throughout Western societies.36 Motivations for people to travel to Peru seeking an experience with ayahuasca can be similarly variable.

Medical anthropologist, Marlene Dobkin de Rios (1994: 6), one of the first anthropologists to research ayahuasca use in Iquitos, describes the ‘drug dilettantism’ of the 1990s Peruvian ‘drug tourist’ as an ignorant enterprise motivated by fantasy and selfish desires to fill an emptiness left by Western culture. Beyer (2012b: 2) reveals an incongruity emerging through popular media over the decade that followed, on the one hand positing ayahuasca as ‘a trope for the edgy, the transgressive, the seriously cool’, while on the other, revering it as ‘healing and transformative and redemptive’. By the time of my own research at the Temple in 2012, it was the latter discourse that motivated most of those I met. Rather than ‘dilettantism as a disconnected, unmethodical desultory activity for amusement’ that Dobkin de Rios (in Winkelman, 2005: 210) ascribed to the first wave of Westerners traveling to Iquitos to drink ayahuasca, they more closely reflected Winkelman’s (2005: 209) description of seekers hoping to explore:

spiritual relations and personal spiritual development; emotional healing; and the development of personal self-awareness, including contact with a sacred nature, God, spiritual and plant and natural energies produced by the ayahuasca.

INDIGENOUS DISCOURSES: AYAHUASCA AND THE PLANT SPIRITS

In his PhD dissertation exploring the use of ayahuasca in Peru in the 1980s, Luna (1986) estimated that ayahuasca was used by more than 70 Indigenous groups throughout the Amazonian regions of South America.37 Traditionally, the plant has been used by shamans for both ritual and medicinal purposes (Reichel-Dolmatoff, 1972). Ayahuasca is known by many names throughout South America, including natema, yajé, yagé, nepe and kaji (Dobkin de Rios, 1972: 43), caapi, shuri and kamalampi (Highpine, 2012: 4-5) and many more (see Sachahambi, 2008). It has been used for: the exploration of ‘other worlds’—predominantly for the purpose of divination and knowledge accumulation (Beyer, 2012b); rites of passage into adulthood

36 For an opinion piece on moral panic in the media, see Sharrock (2017). 37 Sachahambi (2008) provides a comprehensive list of approximately 110 ‘ethnic groups’ that have been recorded as using ayahuasca in the past or in the present.

29 (Reichel-Dolmatoff, 1972); acquisition of protective spirits; determination of the fidelity of a spouse; long-distance communication; information about war; to inform travel preparations; to enhance sexual performance; and to ‘facilitate social interaction among men’ (Dobkin de Rios, 1972: 37-48); and for the purpose of diagnosis to establish the origins of physical and psychological illnesses (Brabec de Mori, 2009). In the urban mestizo populations of the Peruvian Amazon, ayahuasca is known as la purga (the purge) and is highly valued ‘as a cleansing agent that helps restore a sick person to health’ (Dobkin de Rios, 1970: 1420). Beyer (2009: 211) proposes that although shamans will say that the plants ‘taught’ them to combine ayahuasca and chacruna in the first place, it is likely that ‘people were looking for a better way to vomit.’ Ayahuasca has strong emetic, vermifuge (anti-parasitic), and purgative properties (Beyer, 2009: 209). Rodriguez and Cavin (1982) suggest the constituent plants were used for this purpose initially, and were incorporated into ritual for their psychedelic effects later.

Lenaerts (2006: 1) notes that for the Ashéninka of Western Amazonia, the ‘relational aspects’ of curing with plant medicines take precedence over knowledge of their chemical constituents. Similarly, Brabec de Mori (2009) states that the Shipibo recognise the potency of a plant through the effective power of its spirit. Rodd (2001-2002: 55), describing his training with Piaroa shamans in southern Venezuela, highlights the use of plant medicines as shamanic tools for navigating the social, psycho-social, and physical environments:

Visions are used to crystallise empathetic assessment of a person’s intentions and motivations, the significance of animal noises and movements, the passing of recent social events or illnesses.

Grob et. al (1996: 2) state that ayahuasca use in Indigenous communities is ‘fully sanctioned by societal customs and laws and is, in fact, the core experience upon which tribal and collective consciousness rests.’ Indigenous uses of ayahuasca, then, are firmly embedded in the social and the ecological, utilised for the purpose of facilitating relationships in the communal, natural and spiritual worlds. Within this system, botanical skills become secondary to the ability of a shaman is to maintain networks of relationships, both between individuals, as well as between people and their natural environment. Relationship, in this context, moves from the realms strictly inhabited by humans to incorporate interdimensional and interspecies interactions.

For the Sharanahua of Peru, Siskind (1973: 33) reveals that ‘the changeability of men into animals and animals into men is a common theme’ in dream diagnosis, as myth holds that ‘all animals were originally human’. Viveiros de Castro (1998, 2004, 2007), in his development of the notion of perspectivism, states that within Amazonian cosmologies, humans and non- humans are recognised as having ‘same generic type of soul’ (2004: 6). Within these ontologies, ayahuasca, like all plants and animals, has a spirit and, as such, has power and agency. When a 30 shaman’s ordinary state of consciousness is altered subsequent to ingesting the ayahuasca brew, the spirits of ‘invisible nonhuman beings’ (Albert in Viveiros de Castro, 2007: 159) become manifest and can enter into communication with the shaman. This can include elemental spirits of fire, rivers, and volcanoes for example. The concept of ‘Nature’, here, is markedly different from the Western recognition of it as an appropriated resource. In contrast to Western views, Indigenous ontologies emergent from the Amazon instead recognise humanity as an interconnected element of an inclusive network of existence in mutual relationship. Razam (2009: 238) states that the

Indigenous perspective acknowledges our interdependence with nature and all its creatures embedded in a web of life that unfolds out into the higher dimensions that certain plant interfaces reveal.

Ayahuasca, in this sense, is regarded in the cultures that use it as an invaluable facilitator that enables interspecies communication at this interface; a mediator that provides a practical gateway between humans and the rest of Nature within which we are embedded.

Shipibo Onanya maintain that the spirit of Ayahuasca can present in a multitude of forms and that its gender is ambiguous. It is, however, most commonly referred to throughout much popular literature as female. Recognised as a doctor and a teacher who guides and informs, ayahuasca is referred to variously as a ‘master plant’ (Labate, 2010: 32), a ‘plant teacher’ (Tupper, 2008: 297), a ‘sacred vine’ (Luna, 2008: 81), the ‘great medicine’ (Schultes & Hofmann in Grob et al., 1996: 2), and ‘the mother of all plants’ (Highpine, 2012: 1). It is also common to hear Westerners refer to the spirit as ‘the Great Mother’ or Madre Ayahuasca.38 I have heard it said, albeit only in the context of Western discourse, not that one ‘takes’ ayahuasca, but that one ‘meets’ Her.

EXPERIENCING AYAHUASCA

Echenhofer (2012: 67-81) describes the experience of drinking the ayahuasca brew as a process that constitutes three main stages, each occurring internally. He describes the first stage as uncomfortable; a stage often involving a sense of disorientation during which fear of the unknown can arise through the experience of conflicting energies that often lead to a ‘dismantling of self-schemas’ (Echenhofer, 2012: 67).39 Echenhofer (2012: 67) reports that this

38 One of the centres which offers ayahuasca retreats to Western visitors is called Casa de la Madre, or ‘home of the Mother’ (see Greedy, 2011). 39 This process reflects a stage that is considered important for recovery within addiction literature that focuses on spiritual approaches within treatment regimes. It has been variously referred to as ‘regression

31 ‘existential crisis’ leads to the second stage, which incorporates a state of acceptance of the personal condition as it stands. In this stage, ayahuasca acts to ‘excavate’ memories of past unresolved conflicts, allowing for ‘new meaning making’ to occur which can lead to healing (Echenhofer, 2012: 67).40 It is a stage in which mosaic visual images and other ‘dazzling displays of novel forms’ can be explored (Echenhofer, 2012: 72), allowing for unique reconceptualisations and novel perspectives to given problems. This phase may involve travel to other realms, as well as communications with Gods and spirit entities where new teachings, often reported to be beyond the knowledge of the seeker, may be learned. Echenhofer (2012: 78) reports that the third and final stage usually only occurs for longer-term practitioners and involves an experience of interconnection in which the ‘self’ as a construct becomes apparent. At this stage, an experience of ‘awakening’ and the sense of the ‘self’ as spiritual energy are often reported.

AYAHUASCA AND ANTHROPOLOGY: POSITIONING THE THESIS

The descriptions of ayahuasca experiences that emerged through the writings of Burroughs and Ginsberg (1963), ‘anthropologists’ Carlos Castaneda (1968) and Michael Harner (1973), and later from the McKenna brothers (McKenna, 1984, 1993; McKenna and McKenna, 1975) are widely recognised as the primary motivators that incited the nascent stages of ayahuasca tourism into South America.41 In the intervening years, anthropologists have taken on increasingly divergent approaches to the study of ayahuasca plant medicine, the cultures that embrace it, and the practices and belief systems that surround it.

The majority have focused on emic perspectives of health and illness, incorporating ethnographic descriptions of local social and cultural structures, art, economics, cosmologies, iconographies, mythologies, symbolic interactions, and interrelationships with the ecological environment (e.g. Beyer, 2009; Brabec de Mori, 2009; Brown, 1988; Dobkin de Rios, 1972; Fotiou, 2010; Gebhart-Sayer, 1985; Gow, 1996; Harner, 1973, 1980; Luna, 1984a, 1986; Luna and Amaringo, 1999; Luna and White, 2000; Reichel-Dolmatoff, 1971, 1972; Rodd, 2002, 2003, 2008; Schultes, 1988; Schultes et al., 2001; Shepard, 1998; Townsley, 1993). Some have

in the service of the ego’ (Prince in Csordas, 1994: 249), ‘ego collapse at depth’ (Jung and Wilson, 1963), ‘active surrender’ (Pearce et al., 2008), ‘ego surrender’ (Schoen, 2009), ‘ego deflation’ (Alcoholics Anonymous World Services Inc., 1953: 55), and ‘ego death’ (e.g. Morjaria and Orford, 2002). 40 It is common to hear the ayahuasca experience described as being ‘like 30 years of psychotherapy in one night’ (Beyer, 2012b: 2). 41 There has been considerable debate regarding the classification of Carlos Castaneda as an ‘anthropologist’. His work, however, was regularly referenced as a reliable source by participants in this research.

32 focused on the use of ayahuasca as a sacrament within the syncretic religions that emerged in Brazil in the 1900s (e.g. Dawson, 2013; Labate, 2012; Labate and MacRae, 2010; Labate et al., 2009), while others have explored the historical use and diverse social functions of ayahuasca throughout South America (e.g. Alexiades, 1999; Brabec de Mori, 2011; Dobkin de Rios, 1972; Gow, 1991; Luna, 2011; Shepard, 2014; Williams, 2015). Some have documented their own experiences of shamanic initiation in detail (e.g. Harner, 1973; Pinchbeck, 2012; Plotkin, 1993; Rodd, 2001-2002). More recent works have explored the diverse issues concerning increasing Western involvement in the cultural practices of local populations (e.g. Álvarez, 2015; Harner, 1980; Lewis, 2008; Narby et al., 2010; Znamenski, 2007), some with specific focus on colonisation and cultural appropriation (e.g. Fotiou, 2016b; Hern, 1992; Hilario, 2010), as well as the commodification of ayahuasca and the complex social and cultural interactions inherent in ‘spiritual tourism’ (e.g. Davidov, 2010; Fotiou, 2014; Holman, 2010; Labate and Cavnar, 2014a, 2014b; Labate et al., 2017; Whitehead and Wright, 2004; Winkelman, 2005). The phenomenological and psychological experiences of participants in ayahuasca ceremonies have been an increasingly popular focus, particularly for psychologists and psychiatrists (e.g. Bustos, 2008; Kjellgren et al., 2014; Metzner, 1999, 2006; Strassman, 2001; Strassman et al., 2008) and experiential journalists (e.g. Pinchbeck, 2002; Razam, 2009). Benny Shanon, in particular, has written prolifically on this subject from the perspective of cognitive psychology (e.g. Shanon, 2003, 2010a, 2010b, 2014).

In this thesis I aim to contribute to this scholarship by exploring the health belief systems of a particular group of pasajeros who are navigating the liminal stages of transformation from dis- ease to wellness and to present their notions on what it is to live the experience of an embodied human being, healed.

BACKGROUND AND RESEARCH METHODS

The ethnographic research that forms the basis of this thesis was carried out for twelve months between November, 2012 and October, 2013. I contacted the Temple in response to an advertisement they posted on social media for a workshop facilitator. Matthew, who was seeking to engage academic researchers at the time for the purpose of establishing the Temple as a focused and dedicated healing centre in the international market, invited both myself and my partner, Glyn, to live at the there in exchange for our work. During that year, Glyn worked with the construction team on the developing infrastructure.

Information on my research was placed on the Temple’s website, and visitors were also sent an information statement at the time of their workshop confirmations. I was introduced to each group by their facilitators at the beginning of each workshop at which time it was made clear

33 that no identifying information would be taken or used without express permission. Pasajeros were invited to approach me at that time if they wanted to participate in formal interviews.

Glyn and I were accommodated in a small tambo (sleeping hut) containing a double bed, a desk and chair.42 There was a small balcony and an ensuite with a composting toilet and porcelain basin. Water was provided in buckets, obtained from creeks that ran through the property. Over the course of the year, we personalised this space, adding Shipibo-made wall hangings and a bed covering, a gas stove, a hammock, a floor mat made from recycled plastic bags by the women in nearby village, and a rocking chair made in Iquitos.

Upon arrival, we participated in our first 12-day workshop as pasajeros. We each attended two further 12-day workshops throughout the year. During the time of our stay, workshops ran from the 3rd to the 14th of each month and then from the 18th to the 29th of each month. Between workshops a ‘staff ceremony’ was commonly held for FIGURE 6: PERSONALISING THE TAMBO permanent gringo staff and other long-term residents, and we participated in many of those. In August, 2013, when major changes to the extended programmes were implemented, Glyn and I joined the fortnightly ceremonies held in Centre 3, joining WEX and permaculture intern participants, other long-term guests, visitors, and up to four local (Peruvian) staff members each time. At irregular intervals, spaces would become available in the 12-day workshops running in Centre 1 and at these times staff and long-term residents were often invited to fill those spaces. Additionally, I participated in three separate plant dietas, one of which I undertook in isolation for two weeks in a dieta tambo on the Temple’s grounds, while the other two were undertaken while normal duties were carried out.43

42 Double beds were only provided for long-term staff members due to ayahuasca ‘dietary restrictions’ that require minimal physical contact for pasajeros; see Chapter 3. 43 See Chapter 3 for a description of dietas.

34 Outside of the Temple, I attended the 2013 MAPS Psychedelic Science Convention in San Francisco, the largest of its kind offering conference presentations, workshops, and installations from over 150 international presenters, and attended by almost 2,000 delegates. Glyn and I also attended the 9th International Amazonian Shamanism Conference in Iquitos in July, 2013.44 As an adjunct to the latter conference we participated in two ceremonies—one with a local female curandera and her son who work regularly in Iquitos, and one with a male curandero from Ecuador. These experiences gave me an invaluable opportunity to compare some alternative ceremony styles and to experience some different services and facilities offered outside of the Temple. We travelled to Pucallpa in August 2013, where we attended three further ceremonies with three different Onanya who had previously worked at the Temple. One was held in a small room in the Onanya’s home, one in a maloka built on the property of another Onanya, and one was held in a maloka that had been hired for our small group.45 In each case all attending pasajeros were gringos who came together through our association with the Temple. In two cases there was more than one Onanya in attendance, always from the same family. Finally, toward the end of our stay in Peru, we travelled to Tarapoto in the northern highlands where we were granted a tour around the grounds of the Takiwasi Rehabilitation Center. During our time in Tarapoto, we conducted two ceremonies alone in our private accommodation, accompanied by recorded ikaros and music from multiple other genres—classical, religious, spiritual, inspirational—that we had collected from the playlists of various people we came to know during the course of the research. In total, I participated in approximately 50-60 ceremonies over the course of my year in Peru.

Toward the end of March, 2013, my previous work experience allowed me to offer to cover a 10-day period in the position of the Administration Assistant. This was a full-time position, carried out almost exclusively online, managing enquiries, bookings, and accounts. It enabled me to gain a great deal of insight into the ‘front line’ of customer relations, and also introduced

44 This was a far smaller gathering attended by approximately 80 people. The website for this conference does not usually remain available, however some information on the 2013 conference can be found on a DMT Nexus forum (see Shoemaker, 2013). 45 The maloka is a structure somewhat like a yurt in its footprint—a ‘roundhouse’ of sorts. It has traditionally been used in some villages as a communal dwelling space and is also utilised by some as a communal ritual space. Modern ayahuasca ceremonies for Westerners are often held in malokas. They consist of a raised timber floor, and often, but not always, a central pole that supports an elaborate structure of beams in the ceiling over which palm leaves are laid for the roof. Where there are walls, they are constructed of timber and may go all the way from floor to ceiling in sections, but most often they are built to stand only a short height from the floor. Where solid sections are absent, they are instead screened with green nylon netting.

35 me to the inner workings of management and administration that I otherwise did not have access to.46

In the final months of my stay, I offered to take some of the more structured positions during workshops that were usually filled by WEX participants. The first of these was the position of ‘Kitchen Link’, which I carried out in Centre 2 with one of the first DIP groups in attendance at the Temple. The responsibilities of the Kitchen Link include: ensuring dining rooms remain clean and tidy; fruit baskets, tea provisions, jars of maca powder and water filters remain filled; fruit is washed in a vinegar solution to prevent the contraction of parasites; and food is delivered from the nearby kitchen to the dining room and then cleared away.47 In Centres 1 and 2, the Kitchen Link also acts in a Guest Relations capacity, ensuring that accommodation and other personal needs are communicated and met. The other position consistently provided at the Temple is that of ‘Door Person’ for Centre 1, and I took this role in support of one workshop group.48 The only person in the maloka stationed on a chair during ceremony, the Door Person is positioned at the door leading to the bathrooms and is required to stay alert throughout. They are responsible for setting up the maloka each afternoon before ceremony. During a ceremony, the Door Person aids participants to and from the bathroom when required. They are the first point of contact when participants require assistance, acting as a mediator between them and the facilitators. After the ceremony, the Door Person might remain in the maloka for anywhere up to two or three hours in case pasajeros require further support.49 The person who works in either of these positions tends to become an integral part of the group dynamics, creating strong bonds with participants as they go through the workshop together.

Additionally, I would sometimes sit in ceremonies purely as an observer. Unaffected by ayahuasca at those times, I was able to focus on specific structures and activities that were played out by the multiple participants involved.

46 Because the permanent staff generally worked alone in their private tambos, or in the grounds, there was no central location within which to participate in this side of the business on a regular basis. I was, however, invited to attend a small number of staff meetings. 47 Maca powder is a recently popularised ‘super food’, often referred to as ‘Peruvian ginseng’. It is rich in vitamins, minerals and amino acids and is particularly valued for its balancing effect on hormones, claimed to boost libido, balance moods and alleviate uncomfortable symptoms of menstruation and menopause. In Australia, maca retails for around $100 per kilo. In Iquitos, we could purchase it for 15-20 soles (approximately AU$6-8) per kilo. Because sugar is not available on the ayahuasca diet, banana mashed with maca powder was a popular dessert for Temple residents and guests. It was kept in constant supply. 48 As the groups of ceremony participants in Centres 2 and 3 were smaller, the Workshop Facilitator in Centre 2 (WEX and DIP) and the staff member who managed the ceremony in Centre 3 (visitors, permaculture interns and WEX who were in a working phase of their stay) held this responsibility. 49 See Chapter 4 for a full description of the ceremony and the roles of various people within it.

36 DATA COLLECTION

My main methods of data collection occurred through the processes of participant-observation, semi-structured interviewing, and ongoing informal participation in the daily lives of Temple residents and guests. When I was not joining groups in their scheduled activities or conducting private interviews, I spent time mapping the Temple grounds, moving from structure to structure, taking note of the elements that constituted each, the items they held and the movements that occurred in and around them, and I also positioned myself in some of the main structures—the dining rooms, malokas, and informal gathering areas—to map the movements, activities, and conversations that happened within them. Ongoing informal conversations occurred at the meals and activities I attended with participants in the different groups and centres.

Fieldnotes were generally written by hand due to the limited availability of power at the Temple.50 I attended and recorded over 40 workshops, group meetings and other activities, capturing information presented by 11 different staff members as they presented information about the Temple, ayahuasca, Shipibo shamanism, permaculture, the activities of the Temple’s NGO’s, and preparation for going home. I attended as many group activities as possible during the first months until I identified that a level of ‘saturation’ had been reached.51 Thereafter, I selectively chose different activities from group to group to maintain connection and monitor whether any significant differences were emerging.

All photos included in this thesis have been chosen from a collection of over 11,000 that Glyn and I took during the course of my fieldwork.

PARTICIPANTS & RECRUITMENT

The people who visited the Temple during my time there came predominantly from North America, the UK and Western Europe, with small numbers from Eastern Europe, Russia, South America, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Korea, Colombia, and Brazil. I voice-recorded semi-structured interviews with 103 people, 70 of whom were pasajeros attending one of the 12-day workshops. 16 interviewees were involved in the 3-month WEX programme while the

50 Although solar electricity was generated at the Temple, its availability was restricted and unreliable. Priority was necessarily given to the kitchen and to administration staff. 51 ‘Data saturation’ say Fusch and Ness (2015: 1408) ‘is reached when there is enough information to replicate the study when the ability to obtain additional new information has been attained, and when further coding is no longer feasible.’ While there were always novel nuances available for study in every new group, I determined that I had gained sufficient data once themes became clearly recognisable and nuances became minimal.

37 remainder were staff and miscellaneous visitors who stayed at the Temple anywhere from a few days up to two years. The Temple is an English-speaking facility and does not provide translation; all of the people I interviewed were native English speakers or proficient in English. In the course of daily interaction, particularly as we shared meals, I spoke to hundreds more people over the course of the year. I interacted with and interviewed the pasajeros in Centre 1 during their workshops while my interaction with WEX participants mainly occurred during their work periods between workshops when they resided in Centre 3. Each interviewee was asked to sign a consent form on which they were given the option to be referred to by their given names, to choose a pseudonym, or to request a pseudonym be given to them. I have provided participants’ country of residence (and country of origin where different), ages, and occupations.52

The age of interviewees ranged from 18 to 70 with the majority of pasajeros aged between 25 and 40 (n=31) while all but two WEX participants—aged 24 and 27—were spread relatively evenly across the ages of 30 and 50.53 Interviewees worked in the natural and alternative health industry (n=20), business and management (n=18), the arts and creative industries (n=8), and medicine (n=5), with others working in the areas of psychology, engineering, education, computer technology, academia, manual trades, and the earth sciences. Two had previously been in the armed services and seven were retired. One identified as a homemaker and two were students. Overall, the participants came from what could broadly be described as the ‘middle classes’, having access to the funds required to finance their travel. Interviews with long-term visitors and staff members were held intermittently when they indicated interest.

In addition to Western visitors and staff, I interviewed three maestras and two maestros. Four were interviewed at the Temple utilising Spanish-speaking staff members as interpreters. Spanish was a second language to the Shipibo-speaking maestr@s. Those interviews lasted for between 15 minutes and one-and-a-half hours.54 All maestr@s interviewed at the Temple preferred not to be voice-recorded.

52 See Appendix 2 for a full list of interviewees. 53 Through my position as Kitchen Link with one DIP group, I was able to spend a considerable amount of time with them. I was, however, asked not to conduct interviews. Being a newly established programme that was being assessed as a long-term option management did not want external disturbances to affect outcomes. 54 One maestra spoke to us for 15 minutes and was clearly unwilling to share anything but the most basic information about her background. I later heard that she had previously expressed anger that Shipibo knowledge was being shared with pasajeros and other Westerners as she felt that Westerners were making money from it. The other interviews lasted for a minimum of 40 minutes.

38 One of the management staff, Alejandro, had advised that the maestr@s do not often like to talk about their work, indicating that he felt the style of interview I conducted was not likely to elicit much information.55 Most of what he had learned, he said, had been by virtue of working alongside them. I often heard in the field that information learned during the course of an Onanya’s apprenticeship is ‘… secret in a way’ (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 132), considered personal and private. It was given to them from the plants based on their developing relationships that required trust, knowledge, and commitment and was therefore potentially dangerous to be shared with those who were unprepared. One staff member suggested that the nature of their healing work led them to be protective over their information in order not to expose themselves to the dangerous actions of competitive brujos (Span: sorcerers; witch doctors).56 Another indicated that the maestr@s would likely be guarded with the information they shared due to their status as employees of the Temple where they were provided with strict guidelines on how to work with Westerners.57,58

One staff member suggested that he felt we received more information because the recorder was not used. In these interviews, I sensed that much was lost in translation, as circumstances required summarised present-time translations. The maestr@s would often speak for minutes at a time before providing a break, and my notes needed to be quickly scrawled as translation was provided. In each case, I wrote notes up on the computer immediately following the interviews. As suggested by Geertz (1973: 15), I offer that the interpretations of Shipibo culture presented in this thesis are therefore ‘third order ones … [or possibly] fourth order’ as they are an amalgamation of multiple academic works, second-hand tales related to me in the field, and my own interpretations and experiences of the short periods we were together. Due to the reticence of the maestr@s to be recorded, I have refrained from providing any identifying information when I refer to them throughout the thesis, and have instead used pseudonyms.59

55 Much of the information shared by staff members came in the course of informal conversations. I have used pseudonyms when referring to them. 56 See Chapter 4. 57 See Chapter 4. 58 One of the translators felt that the maestr@s may have been concerned that I was ‘spying’ on behalf of the Temple. When they realised the ‘non-political’ tone of my questions, however, he felt that they relaxed into the interviews. 59 See Appendix 3 for a list of all of the maestr@s who worked at the Temple during the time of my fieldwork, including their Shipibo names (given at birth in addition to Spanish names, usually by a family member other than a parent), translations of their names, their ages, and years of experience working with ayahuasca and the plant medicines. This information was provided to pasajeros when they were first introduced to the maestr@s who would be working with them.

39 The interview with the fifth maestro was carried out at his home near Pucallpa and lasted for a total of five hours, carried out over two sessions in one day with the assistance of a translator who was, at the time, working with Alianza Arkana, an NGO associated with the Temple.60 She later provided a precise translated transcript. Maestro Rogelio (pseudonym) advised that the plants wanted him to teach Westerners about the work they were doing, and that he was therefore happy to be recorded and to share as much information as we requested. He made it clear, however, that it was important not to talk about brujos, other strong shamans, or oneself as a strong shaman as it would call the attention of jealous brujos who might act to cause harm. He also stated that as a gentleman, he would not speak about actions and practices of others that he did not agree with.

ONGOING DATA COLLECTION

Since returning from my fieldwork, I have maintained ongoing contact with several hundred people I met during my year in Peru, as well as multiple academic and popular social media ‘pages’ associated with ayahuasca and associated topics.61 Many of the references I will use throughout the thesis have been sourced through these ongoing connections, obtained from online ‘posts’ and emails from participants. In these cases, no identifying information has been included without express written consent. Information sources, therefore, are diverse, including religious scripts, popular self-help literature, blogs from NGO members, psychologists, and philosophers, and even tarot cards. I have chosen quotes from these sources to represent some of the discourses that commonly predominate in discussions between people who have visited the Temple as they are traversing the integration stages, continuing to make meaning of their experiences with ayahuasca and the plant medicines. A private Ayahuasca Researchers mailing list has also been an invaluable resource, providing up-to-date notifications regarding the latest academic, religious, legal, political, and ‘popular’ information as it emerges globally. In all cases where ‘personal communications’ have been quoted, express permission has been obtained.

DATA ANALYSIS

Early in the process of transcribing and analysing interview data, I began to recognise distinct themes emerging from the descriptions interviewees felt important to share regarding their

60 See Chapter 2. 61 This includes several maestr@s who have started their own ayahuasca plant medicine centres and utilise Facebook as a primary form of marketing.

40 experiences in ceremonies. After approximately 30 interviews, these themes stood out as clear markers, not only representing poignant moments of insight and healing, but also those that pertained to knowledge of the Self. They have formed the basis of the thematic analysis that has subsequently been undertaken and explored through the multiple data sources accumulated in the field and in the literature (Denzin and Lincoln, 2017).

The focus on experiences of the Self and of consciousness has been confounded by the fact that an important part of the ‘field’—indeed the part where the most significant changes reportedly occurred—existed within the participants. As an ‘observer’ within ceremony, there was often little external phenomena to observe. Polkinghorne (in Denzin and Lincoln, 2017: 118) states: ‘Human consciousness, which is subjective, is not accessible to science, and thus not truly knowable.’ While this has been a conundrum widely recognised in studies of anthropology, religion, philosophy, and parapsychology (e.g. Abram, 1996; Bustos, 2008; Caswell et al., 2014; Cohen, 1994; Csordas, 1990, 1999; Fotiou, 2010; Glazier, 2014; Knibbe and Versteeg, 2008; Luke, 2012; Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987), phenomenology has been widely adopted as a qualitative methodology that incorporates a ‘shift from being in an exploratory approach that relies on induction, to more of a descriptive model’ (Glazier, 2014: 35).

A PHENOMENOLOGICAL FOCUS ON THE BODY, MIND, AND SPIRIT

Phenomenology: the study of phenomena as they appear to the consciousnesses of an individual or a group of people; the study of things as they appear in our lived experiences. Desjarlais and Throop (2011: 88)

With a focus on ‘human being-in-the-world’ (Keat, 1982: 3; Rapport, 2014: 40), the philosophical tradition of phenomenology provides a central theoretical approach to this thesis. The introduction of a phenomenological approach as a methodology for understanding consciousness and reality, states Abram (1996: 31), has ‘forcefully called into to question the modern assumption of a single, wholly determinable, objective reality.’ Phenomenology represents a resolute rejection of reductionist scientific models of observation in its action to recognise the human organism as a thinking, feeling, interactive sensorium. Rather than seeking to define reality in terms of scientifically measurable data, phenomenology instead focuses on subjective awareness: the way an individual becomes aware of, experiences, and ‘knows’ the world around them.

The ‘father’ of phenomenology, Edmund Husserl, suggests that the world as it is experienced— the phenomenal world—is entirely subjective and occurs wholly in the realms of consciousness, which is located within the body (Husserl, 2002 [1931]). Conscious bodies, he says, recognise and experience other bodies through the processes of ‘empathy’ that encourage attunement

41 between the gestures and expressions of the Self and those of others, thus opening the Self to the infiltration of multiple other Selves (Husserl, 1960 [1929]: 104). The Self, therefore, becomes a terrain of multiple subjectivities, no longer conceived of as an isolated, closed entity. Husserl (1960 [1929]: 64) distinguishes between phenomena that occur in the internal landscape of the Self (the ego aspect that is not known by others), and that which could be shared by others, being outside of the Self (the transcendental intersubjective ego). He maintains, however, that even when multiple subjects share experiences simultaneously, each will necessarily experience them differently, effectively influenced by the state of their inner landscape at the time. Objective reality, once experienced by a subject, therefore, is necessarily rendered obsolete. As Abram (1996: 39) observes, this representation of the Self in the world has a far-reaching effect:

… the very world our sciences strive to fathom … is not a fixed and finished “datum” … but is rather an intertwined matrix of sensations and perceptions, a collective field of experience lived through from many different angles.

Merleau-Ponty (1962) rejects the notion of the transcendental ego as one that exists beyond the body, instead insisting that ultimately, the body itself is the experiencing subject. As the existential terrain in which all contact is made, both with the other and the Self, the conscious body in this conceptualisation thus takes on a new dimension as a sensorium in and of itself, inextricable from the ‘mind’ that conceptualises the experience. This representation of the living body, however, does not insist upon bounded awareness, locked within the barriers of the skin, but rather recognises it as mutable and permeable, both absorbing the environment as it simultaneously reaches out to it through the senses. Abram (1996: 46) states:

the boundaries of a living body are open and indeterminate; more like membranes than barriers, they define a surface of metamorphosis and exchange.

Approaching analysis through this lens, I will focus on the ‘sensational form’ of the ayahuasca experience, recognising the embodied experiences emergent through the realms of consciousness alteration as ‘body techniques that become embodied in the habitus’ (Meyer, 2016: 20). Embracing notions represented in the ‘ontological turn’ (see Holbraad and Pedersen, 2017), I adopt an approach that recognises this subjective reality as reality.

Rather than embracing an essentialist approach that posits the existence of an objective world in which differences are recognised in terms of subjective interpretations or perspectives, the ontological turn recognises the existence of multiple (irreducible) worlds; multiple (irreducible) realities (Kohn, 2015; Paleček and Risjord, 2012; Venkatesan, 2010), ultimately asking whether existing models of culture and society are sharp enough critical tools for analysing difference

42 (Henare et al., 2007: 13). This focus on ‘alterity’, however, is ‘really less interested in differences between things than within them: the politics of ontology [thus becomes] the question of how persons and things could alter from themselves’ (Holbraad et al., 2014) dependent on (ever-changing and evolving) perspective. Adopting this approach, my focus then, is not on how one ‘sees the world’ but rather, as Viveiros de Castro (2004: 11) posits, of ‘what world is expressed through [them], of what world they are the point of view.’

62 THE RESEARCHER: COMING TO TERMS WITH MYSELF AS A LOCATION

The night I first heard about the Amazonian plant medicine, ayahuasca, in 2008, I was having a discussion with friends about how many generous, kind-hearted people we knew who were struggling with addictions. I had just completed my first module in anthropology at university, having been introduced to some foundational concepts that would influence my developing anthropological mind over the following years. We had explored: the use of myth, metaphor and ceremony as central practices of meaning-making, cultural reproduction, and survival (e.g. Dening, 1985; Morphy, 1984; Sahlins, 1981); representations of my country’s history from emic perspectives that were new to me (e.g. Bird Rose, 1998, 2001; Edwards, 1982; Munn, 1971); taboo and the place of food in culture (Douglas, 1994; Harris, 2008); widely different ways of conceptualising the human spirit and the ‘self’ (e.g. Munn, 1971; Rose, 1992; Sahlins, 1981); the body as a potential ‘enemy’ (Bordo, 1988), and as a site of contestation and political power (Aretxaga, 2005; Lewis, 1994; Owens, 1976); and the concept of human-land relationships (e.g. Biernoff, 1978). While all of these themes would prove relevant to the research that would come, at the forefront of my thoughts at the time was the centrality and importance of ritual in the cultures worldwide that I had been introduced to—and the lack of it that I perceived in my own. Immediately upon hearing about the ayahuasca ceremonies that my friend was planning to attend, I sensed that the course of my future had been set. In 2011, having completed my undergraduate degree, I undertook an Honours research programme focused on a variety of spiritual approaches to alcohol abuse and dependence in preparation for my PhD research (see Sharrock, 2011).

I have had a long interest in the use of alternative therapies and consciousness exploration, with decades of experience working in the natural therapies industry as well as personal experience with a diverse range of healing alternatives. I have practiced yoga and meditation periodically for over 25 years after spending time in an ashram in India in my early twenties. Until experiencing ayahuasca, my methods of consciousness exploration had never included the use

62 I thank Kristmundsdóttir (2006: 171) for this insight into recognising myself as a location.

43 of psychoactive substances, however, and while I maintained the hopes similar to many pasajeros that I would have something akin to a ‘peak experience’ (see Chapter 7), this was not to be. While many of the descriptions I present here reflect my own experiences, the protracted ‘peak’ that involved a lived experience of interconnection and limitlessness as was so eloquently described by many participants was not one that I shared. Like Paul Stoller (1986: 4) whose initial experiences of fieldwork in Niger became ‘intellectualized—taken out of the realm of sensual sentiment’, my own intellectual approach to this research has undoubtedly affected my ability to completely immerse in the experiences I was studying. I trust, however, that I have ‘smelled and tasted’ enough ‘ethnographic things’ (Stoller, 1986: 4) in the field—and have effectively ‘grown into my senses’ as a result—to the degree that I can represent them in a manner true to those who shared their experiences with me.

OUTLINE OF THE THESIS

Having introduced the main components and theoretical approaches that will constitute this thesis, I will, in Chapter 2, provide a description of Iquitos and site the Temple as a unique alternative to the many options presently available in today’s ayahuasca tourism market. I will then describe the Temple—its origins, development, structure, and sister NGOs—positioning it as a syncretic environment in which multiple cultural influences blend. Chapter 3 focuses on the specific ontologies and practices of the Shipibo in their work with plant medicines, and explores some of the adaptations that have been implemented at the Temple.

Chapters 4 to 7 focus on the phenomenology of the embodied Self and the diverse meanings that emerge within the liminal stages of transformation through the experiences with ayahuasca and the plant medicines. In Chapter 4, I present embodiment as a central theme of the healing journey and consciousness exploration for visitors to the Temple, focusing on the cultural construction of the Western body and the consequential relationships that can potentially develop between the body, mind, and spirit. I also discern between boundaries and barriers and explore the ways they can affect (inter)relationships. Chapter 5 presents the notion of Western culture as a pathogen in its action to isolate individuals and thus disrupt their relationships—to each other, to Nature, to God/Spirit, and between parts of the Self within. Through descriptions of experiences in ayahuasca ceremonies, I explore the sometimes-radical reformulation of notions of the Self as barriers fall away, boundaries are recognised as mutable and permeable, and novel forms of (inter)connection are experienced. I then introduce insights gained by pasajeros on the ‘Nature of Human Nature’ that is revealed through these developing connections, as they describe what they perceive to be the ‘true essence’ of the Self. Chapter 6 44 then explores the phenomenological elements of living that essence, framed within the lens of the ‘peak experience’. It outlines experiences of authenticity, flow, gratitude, awe, and ultimately, Love, that represent goals achieved; the ‘landing place’ for the Being, healed.

In Chapter 7, I outline the predominant worldviews and discourses that were regularly combined by pasajeros as they acted to form new meanings and new understandings of themselves and the world around them. I present various understandings of dis-ease, wellness, and selfhood, as well as ayahuasca as a medicine, through the lenses of Western biomedicine and psychology, Shipibo ontologies, Eastern Mysticism, Quantum Physics, and New Age discourses. Then, through the exploration of three case studies, I show that, even where newly developed meanings applied to the experience of the Self can be significantly different, phenomenological experiences of the essential nature of the Self are remarkably similar.

Finally, I will present a summary of the findings in the thesis, with a focus on positioning the use and efficacy of ayahuasca plant medicine and the unique style of healing provided by it, in terms of its relationship to the nature of the Self. I will finish by presenting lifestyle factors that pasajeros reported as effective methods for gaining and maintaining the lived experience of a Self in harmony, both within and with Other.

45 CHAPTER 2: FIELDSITE: A TEMPLE IN A JUNGLE NEAR A FRONTIER TOWN

As we approached the entrance to the Temple grounds, it was immediately clear that we had arrived at a place that was well established, well tended and well nurtured. An unpretentious guard station, standing tall on timber poles, marked the first sign that we were about to enter a very different jungle environment than the diversity and richness that had enveloped us like the hot, steamy air, during our preceding 40-minute walk from the river. The guard tower stood surrounded by lush, flowering gardens partnered by a sign that had been created from living greenery over a mound of dirt, coaxed to grow in the form of the words: ‘Welcome to the Temple of the Way of Light’. Diversity and richness continued to surround us, but the environment had shifted into one of domesticated beauty, clearly modelled and maintained by the careful and constant hand of humanity. As we crossed a sturdy palm-leaf covered timber bridge that straddled a small stream and lush vegetation into the grounds of the Temple’s main centre, we were met, as lone arrivals two days prior to the next scheduled workshop, with an experience that few new arrivals after us would glean as a first impression: complete ‘jungle-quiet’. Not complete silence—it so rarely happens in a jungle environment where even during the infrequent times when there is an absence of animal and bird sounds, leaves relentlessly fall to the ground within a constant cycle of life and death— but an environment bereft of human activity. It was at once enticing and disconcerting as we stood at the threshold of our new home, surrounded by pristine dirt paths, swept clean and lined with low hedges, alongside manicured, flowering gardens displaying an abundance of colours, shades and hues, surrounding sturdy human-made structures in the style that was becoming familiar to us as typical of jungle constructions: raised timber floors, timber walls screened with durable nylon mosquito netting and thatched palm-leaf roofs. Humanity had tamed this section of the jungle. We were here to find out what the jungle, in its own unique way, might be doing to humanity. Fieldnotes (1 November, 2012)

FIGURE 7: WELCOME TO THE TEMPLE OF THE WAY OF LIGHT 46 LOCATION: IQUITOS, PERU

The jungle city of Iquitos is an enigma. Officially founded in 1864 (Lane, 2006), it is a city steeped in the aftermath of diaspora. Iquitos is located just 3.75° south of the Equator, 1,000 kilometres northeast of Peru’s capital, Lima. It is Peru’s northernmost city, the largest Peruvian city in the Amazon Jungle and, with a population of approximately 450,000 people, is the sixth largest in the country.63 Surrounded by the Nanay, Itaya and Amazon rivers, on the Great Plains to the East of Andes mountain range, Iquitos is the largest city in the world that is not accessible by road.64 It is a bustling, noisy city filled with young families, roadside markets, popular open public spaces, and the roar of motorcycle engines belonging to both the motorbikes and the 3- wheeled passenger vehicles, the motocarros that provide transportation for the FIGURE 8: MOTOCARROS ON THE STREETS OF IQUITOS majority of residents.65

For many tourists, Iquitos is a means to an end. Its remote location has long encouraged its popularity among more adventurous tourists as a gateway to primary Amazonian rainforest, which continues to be the major attraction for the region.66 Official statistics are notoriously difficult to obtain in Peru, and my enquiries on a closed academic forum for ayahuasca

63 Exact statistics are very difficult to obtain in Peru as customs and tourism information is not computerized. Estimates I obtained from the tourist information office and from local expats fell within the range of 4-500,000. World Atlas (2015) provides population statistics of 437,620 however it is unclear where this figure originates. Website, Population.city (2017) states that the population at the time of writing as 447,898. Tourism numbers are not available. 64 A direct flight from Lima, over the Andes mountain range, takes from one and a half to two hours, while cargo ships can take 23 days to access Iquitos from the open waters of the Atlantic, which lies 3,700km (2,300 miles) away (University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, n.d.). 65 The history of Iquitos is rich and complex, built on ‘the enslavement and decimation of Indigenous people’ (Fotiou, 2010: 35) within an historical environment riddled with exploitative power relations common to colonisation where rich resources—in this case, rubber and oil—were to be found. Fotiou (2010) suggests that these power relations continue to be reflected in the current tourism environment in which a significant percentage of income is now mediated through a growing number of foreigners and expatriates who maintain financial control over many of the more popular restaurants, accommodation options and larger ayahuasca centres. For a comprehensive overview of Iquitos’ history and a commentary on the developing relationships between local and foreign interests, see Fotiou (2010). 66 This is due to its proximity to the Pacaya Sumira National Reserve, an area of primary rainforest located approximately 3-4 hours from Iquitos by riverboat.

47 researchers revealed current estimates of anywhere from 4,000 to more than 10,000 ayahuasca tourists per year, a significant increase from the approximately 200 visitors who travelled to Iquitos to drink ayahuasca when Evgenia Fotiou carried out ethnographic research there in 2005 (see Fotiou, 2014).

Over the past ten years, the expansion of interest in ayahuasca has been changing the face of Iquitos’ tourism market. Today, what has long been referred to as a ‘frontier town’ (e.g. Herzog, 1982; Wikipedia, 2014) is widely regarded as the ‘Capital of Ayahuasca Tourism’ (Labate and Cavnar, 2014b: 11), attracting not only ‘hippy backpackers’ (Bill Grimes, owner of Dawn on the Amazon Tours; personal communication), but also becoming increasingly popular for a broad demographic of middle class white collar workers and professionals. Iquitos is enveloped in a new wave of growth and development as the number of visitors seeking out the ‘Mecca of Ayahuasca’ (Álvarez, 2015) grows exponentially. It is rare, however, that visitors come to recognise the extent to which the ayahuasca experience has metamorphosed over recent years, transforming from a common folk medicine and emetic to one that is taking on a sacred status.

Foreign visitors who travel to Iquitos in search of healing and spiritual awakenings, will often undertake restrictive food and social diets for weeks before their journeys in preparation for their participation in ritual with a sacred medicine. The local people in Iquitos, however, tend to utilise ayahuasca quite differently.67 Long-term expat resident of Iquitos, Alan Shoemaker suggests that for the majority of locals who drink it, ongoing vigilance in treating intestinal parasites is their primary motivation. In an interview with Australian journalist, Rak Razam, Shoemaker explained:

... the Police [here] told me over ten years ago … that on any given Friday night 10% of the population are drinking ayahuasca. And on any given city block here you’ve got one or two ayahuasqueros that are drinking ayahuasca in the traditional sense. That means in a back room on a dirt floor with their friends and neighbours and people that they know. They play cards first for a couple of hours and get started, then go back to drinking ayahuasca and throw up. They’re not doing it because it gives you visions. They’re doing it because it keeps your body clean (Razam, 2015: min.1:00:50).

As described in Chapter 1, ayahuasca has long been used as an anti-parasitic and purgative (la purga). Ayahuasca in this sense is used no differently to many other medicines.

67 The description that follows pertains to the mestizo population of Iquitos. The Shipibo people use ayahuasca in yet another way to that which is described here. For further discussion on Shipibo medicine, see Chapter 3.

48 Fotiou (2014: 7) notes that locals are generally able to self-medicate with the abundant plant remedies available to them through the market place when they identify ailments such as flu and infection. They only tend to seek out ayahuasca shamanism in cases when ‘general malaise that could not be explained as anything other than a sorcery induced illness’, she says (Fotiou, 2014: 8). Similar observations were made by Dobkin de Rios (1972, 2009) who also carried out her fieldwork in Iquitos. During my time in Iquitos, and at the Temple of the Way of Light, I asked many local residents if they had tried ayahuasca. From those who were not marketing a product or retreat centre, the response was consistently a definitive ‘no’, most often accompanied by a screwed-up face and an expression that indicated knowledge of the purgative aspects of the medicine apparently made the idea FIGURE 9: REMEDIES FOR SALE AT IQUITOS' LOCAL MARKETPLACE IN BELEN appalling to them.

The influence of Westerners on ayahuasca ceremonies in Iquitos is having a marked effect on the use of a medicine that has had very little ceremony attached to it in this region. As I will discuss in Chapter 3, however, the combination of globalised discourses now permeating this system of medicine has created a colourful bricolage of representations and interpretations. The access to a wide range of options available today reflects the growing popularity of a practice that holds great value for visitors. Currently, on either side of the Nauta Road—the only road that leads out of Iquitos, connecting the city to the river port of Nauta which lies approximately 100 kilometres to the South—an eclectic range of locations are available for everything from one-off ayahuasca ceremonies to intensive dietas. Some of these can lead to shamanic certification and can last for many months.68 In the current period of rapid growth in the market for ayahuasca ceremonies, multiple new alternatives are developing, both along this road and along the many river tributaries accessible from the city as more ‘authentic’ jungle

68 Dietas will be discussed in detail in Chapter 3.

49 environments are sought by budding entrepreneurs.69 It is a dynamic environment in which new alternatives continually become available as others cease to operate.

FIELDSITE: TEMPLE OF THE WAY OF LIGHT

I’ve been coming to the Peruvian Amazon for close to 30 years and…I’ve never really seen a project or a centre quite like this … .The experience of being able to do an ayahuasca ceremony with six Shipibo healers as I had last night is an out-of-this-world experience. It has to be lived to be believed … This place gives access to first class or world-class knowhow … it’s a fantastic place for people of all cultures to come and to get to know this approach to healing … it has a whole holistic approach including permaculture, including outreach to Indigenous communities around it … it’s like a research institute, or almost like a university … a place of the future … it’s a bringing together of different forms of knowledge that is happening in real time. It’s like a life-size experiment and that’s what I find exciting about it. Jeremy Narby (2013: sec. 0:10)70

Jeremy Narby’s testimonial video, which is available on the home page of the Temple’s website, describes a location that is both unique and diverse in the world of ayahuasca plant medicine healing. As a site of focused syncretism, the environment encountered at the Temple continues to develop and transform. Its distinctive atmosphere and offerings reflect a project of hybridisation in which multiple cultural influences are blended in a remote but decidedly globalised setting. Developed in the milieu of Amazonian mestizo culture, Indigenous Shipibo medicine techniques have been combined with Western ideals of complementary and alternative medicine, New Age versions of Eastern mysticism and egalitarian principles of permaculture, blended and managed within (and yet often counter-cultural to) established norms of Western hegemony. People visit the Temple from all over the developed world, drawn to the syncretic and globalised nature of the Temple, offered in a culturally-accessible format, which allows for a great deal of freedom in how they make meaning of the experiences they encounter there. Matthew’s vision to develop and encourage a globalised system of medicine (Temple of the

69 During my time in Iquitos in 2012-13, I met several Westerners who had procured land with the aim of establishing ayahuasca centres combined with permaculture retreats in the area. When I returned in June 2015, I learned that some of my favourite artisans had also begun training in ayahuasca shamanism and were similarly establishing facilities for Westerners. Since that time, Shipibo maestr@s who were once employed at the Temple have also opened their own ayahuasca centres in Iquitos and around their local areas in Pucallpa. 70 Anthropologist, Jeremy Narby is the author of The Cosmic Serpent: DNA and the Origins of Knowledge (1998) and Intelligence in Nature (2006), the first of which was recommended reading on the Temple website at the time of my fieldwork, and both of which were widely read by visitors to the Temple.

50 Way of Light, 2009f), in a not-for-profit model of business that focuses on reciprocity, has proven to be a successful, stable formula in an otherwise tumultuous cultural and business environment. The 40-plus pages of information available on the Temple’s website—its primary form of advertising and marketing—reflect the complexity and depth of attention given to its dynamic and constantly evolving environment.

In the next section, I will outline how the Temple has matured since its inception in 2007, with a focus on the phases of its development, the vision that guides it, and the establishment of its sister organisations, NGOs Alianza Arkana and the Chaikuni Institute.

ORIGINS AND STAFFING

Development of the Temple was inspired by ‘a clear message [Matthew] received from Ayahuasca in 2007’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009a). Matthew relates that, at the time, he was searching for answers to his own discontent after having attained many goals viewed by Western society as classic indicators of success—including a successful career in real estate— which had brought to him a profound sense of dissatisfaction. His vision was to build a centre where more Westerners would be able to access the unique mode of healing that he was experiencing. Following a path then infrequently trodden but now familiar in the emerging history of the development of ayahuasca centres for Westerners by Westerners, Matthew related the sense he experienced at the time that he had been chosen by the spirit of Ayahuasca for the sacred duty of taking the medicine into an increasingly ailing Western society, the members of which were destroying both their own quality of life through increasing secularisation and capitalism, and the Amazon Jungle, the home of Ayahuasca and the many other medicines and plant spirits.

Over the following year, as he traversed a series of upheavals—the like of which are commonly reported after people experience the Amazonian plant medicines—Matthew’s home life began to change dramatically. Returned from the jungle, he withdrew his attention from his career as a property developer in England and Spain, and invested his accumulated savings into the creation of el Templo Camino de la Luz, now registered in Peru under its English name, the Temple of the Way of Light.71 He reported that his private life was in upheaval, as was his financial security as he naively, he recognised in retrospect, continued to send money to his maestro in Peru for the purchase of land and the establishment of the original maloka, dining

71 The naming of the Temple will be discussed shortly.

51 area and the first five tambos (sleeping huts) that constituted the Temple in its original manifestation.

Matthew’s first maestro, mestizo shaman, Javier Arevalo Shahuano, secured the purchase of the initial piece of land from a local resident in the neighbouring village of Tres Unidos (who continues to work at the Temple at the time of writing) at a cost of approximately PEN3,000.00 (around USD1,000.00 at the time) which was provided by Matthew. At that time, the little village consisted of only around 20 people. They lived as many do in the jungle, using slash- and-burn techniques for the production of yucca, a fibrous root that is widely eaten by the local population, supplemented by meagre proceeds from the production of charcoal sold for fuel.

The population of Tres Unidos has since grown to approximately 60. Many of them, along with members of several small surrounding villages located within a few kilometres walking distance, constitute the vast majority of the 50 to 100 mestizo employees at the Temple today. The ‘local staff’ as they are referred to onsite, are employed in the kitchens, the laundries, as cleaners, cargueros (porters),72 guards, builders, gardeners, for general maintenance work and in positions of local staff management. Additionally, nine or ten Shipibo healers are employed at any given time. They are flown in from their homes in FIGURE 10: CARGUEROS and around the city of Pucallpa to run the ceremonies and provide the other treatments and activities that constitute a workshop.73 Additionally, at the time of my arrival, five permanent gringo staff had been living and working fulltime at the Temple for approximately two years and, shortly after, a permanent permaculture

72 The walk between the river and the Temple grounds can take anywhere from 15 to 45 minutes depending on the height of the river. Cargueros, a word usually referring to cargo ships but also translated in some dictionaries as ‘beasts of burden’ (Reverso Dictionary, 2016) are employed by the Temple to carry produce, supplies and guests’ luggage along the track between the two. They will also carry guests in a makeshift hammock slung between timber poles that rest on their shoulders when required. 73 The Shipibo healers will be discussed in detail in Chapter 3; Pucallpa is the capital of the Ucayali region, the home of the Shipibo peoples, which is located approximately 1,000km south of Iquitos, 1.5 hours flight or 4-6 days by riverboat.

52 manager was also employed to establish and promote the fledgling Chaikuni Institute, which was established in January 2013. This small group of onsite gringo staff had varied and constantly evolving roles, including business management, construction, maintenance of infrastructure, website maintenance, videography, development, adaptation and implementation of available programmes and activities, activism, and liaison on behalf of the sister NGO, Alianza Arkana, workshop facilitation, liaison with the Shipibo healers and local workers, and ongoing management of the Work Exchange programme participants. Several more gringos were employed as facilitators in the workshops that run continuously in two of the three centres now established. They were in constant contact with visitors throughout their stays, fulfilling roles as translators, teachers, guides, companions, confidants, and mediators between visitors and the maestr@s. They commonly stay at the Temple for three to six months out of any given year. Two administration staff, one based in Canada at the time and the other in Peru’s capital, Lima, managed online bookings and enquiries.74

THE DARK SIDE OF AMAZONIAN CURANDISMO AND ‘DOING BUSINESS’ IN IQUITOS

In a personal conversation, Matthew revealed that during the initial stages of the Temple’s development he credited his deeply transformational experiences to his maestro rather than to the effects of ayahuasca as a ‘medicine’. He recalled how, on his return to the jungle, he felt that the funds he was sending were being misused, citing the markedly improved lifestyle of his maestro as well of that of his maestro’s friends and family. The partnership continued for another 18 months before he dissolved it. Matthew paid out two existing partners: his maestro, Javier, and a gringo business partner, and took sole ownership of the Temple. Over that period, Matthew describes a litany of experiences with both his first maestro and ensuing (Western) business partners. In response to an online blog based on a scathing critique of ‘Foreign Owned Ayahuasca Lodges’ (Captain Bill, 2012), Matthew states that:

Working with 10 mestizo curanderos over the 1.5 years taught me about many issues that are faced throughout the Peruvian Amazonian within ‘shamanism ‘—focus on profit, ego, control, deceit, drunken behaviour, sexually inappropriate behaviour eventually through to brujeria (witchcraft).

74 The internet is the only avenue for communication with the Temple. This is due both to logistics of working with multiple time zones in an international market and also in managing the communication restrictions inherent in the remote regions of the Amazon.

53 To me, he further described experiences of financial misappropriation, fraud, subsequent dealings with the Peruvian judicial system (both as plaintiff and defendant), and challenges from oil companies who attempted to seize control of the land.

Alan Shoemaker, who has lived in Iquitos since the early 1990s and has witnessed attempts by many Westerners to establish ayahuasca centres in the area, says that often it is the curandero who puts the notion of these visions into the psyche of the Westerner, and that many who make the attempt ultimately walk away after consistent experiences of being cheated, overcharged, and supplied with inappropriate materials by local providers (in Razam, 2015). He quotes one man in such a situation as saying: ‘We can’t live here. They chew you up and spit you out’ (in Razam, 2015: min.54:00). This style of manipulation and adversarial approach in both the business and healing arena is a cultural element that many gringos are not prepared for when making a commitment to establish a healing facility in this foreign environment, he said.

While current discourses available to Westerners concerning ayahuasca healing methods are increasingly influenced by Western worldviews and sensibilities that tend to minimise any focus on ‘the darker side’ of Amazonian shamanism, more customary descriptions of Amazonian shamanic ontologies such as those practiced in Iquitos reveal markedly different way of interacting in the world. As I will describe in Chapter 3, in order to affect healing, Amazonian curanderos ‘go to war’ against each other, sucking virote (energetic ‘darts’) from their patients and sending them back to the curanderos (often positioned as brujos—witches or sorcerers) from whom the offending virote originated. In this same combative manner, the ‘business’ of ayahuasca curandismo can consist of fierce and targeted personal criticism and attacks, allegedly fuelled by what Matthew, along with others who operate in this environment, commonly refer to as ‘machismo’. In this context, machismo indicates a form of hyper- masculinity that results in a strongly ego-driven, warlike approach within a harshly competitive environment that is often revealed in the ‘business’ of healing. It was this recognition and experience of ‘the often “macho” world of curanderismo in Peru’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009f) that predominantly led Matthew to make significant shifts in the subsequent direction of the Temple.

In the second half of 2008, having recently returned from England, Matthew attended Shoemaker’s Amazonian Shamanism Conference in Iquitos. There he met Klara, who he later married. Klara was one of only few guests who had been staying at the Temple during its infancy and she quickly became instrumental in its new direction as the relationship that blossomed between them instigated a time that would soon be marked by a period of prolific growth for the Temple, resulting in what was, at that stage, a relatively unique alternative to ayahuasca healing for the Western market.

54 Recognising the challenges arising from his own experiences, and hearing those expressed by Klara concerning sometimes-inappropriate behaviour and ongoing discomfort she experienced in the company of several male curanderos—both at the Temple and in and around Iquitos— Matthew closed the Temple to visitors. Klara was soon to suggest an alternative approach that she perceived might circumvent the issues that were becoming apparent to them within the environment of metropolitan ayahuasca curandismo; namely that it was heavily male-dominated and too often infused with a culture of corruption, drunkenness and sexualisation toward women.

THE MOVE TOWARD SHIPIBO SHAMANISM

At the time that Matthew and Klara were considering how to proceed with the development of the Temple, Klara recalled a ceremony she had attended with a female Shipiba healer.75 Noting significant differences in her experience, her suggestion was to provide workshops focused on women, carried out by women. Female healers are rare in mestizo curanderismo and so their search took them to Pucallpa, the capital of the Ucayali region, approximately one hour by plane south of Iquitos, where the majority of the Shipibo live and where Matthew and Klara sought onanya ainbobo: ‘Indigenous women healers working within the rich and complex medical/magical tradition of the Shipibo people' (Temple FIGURE 11: A FOCUS ON FEMALES PROVIDED A SIGNIFICANT POINT OF DIFFERENCE FOR THE TEMPLE. of the Way of Light, 2009e). MAESTRAS ROSA, MARIA & JUANITA PREPARED FOR GROUP PHOTOS Traditionally, Indigenous women did not drink ayahuasca (Brabec de Mori, 2009; Herbert, 2010), and the number of women who work in this way reportedly remains in the minority (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 125).76 There remain sufficient numbers, however, that women have

75 Shipiba is the feminine form of Shipibo. I rarely heard it used in the field. 76 It is interesting to note here that while this statement was corroborated by the male maestros that I interviewed in Peru, as well as by Matthew, the two female Shipiba maestras I interviewed (both from the same family) insisted that more women than men ‘work with plants’. I had heard that women were more

55 continued to comprise more than half of the healing staff since they began working with the Temple in 2009.

Matthew described his first meeting with the Shipibo healers in Pucallpa as one that revealed clear consequences of colonisation and capitalism for the Indigenous peoples.77 Originally meeting with the eight Onanya, both female and male, he saw and heard first-hand that they were living in a state of poverty, in veritable slums on the outskirts of a polluted urban environment. Families would commonly move from their riverside villages into the city to enable access to better education for their children, a move which ultimately caused isolation from their home communities, other family members, the environment they had grown up in, and from their medicines. Unwilling to favour just a few of the healers he invited them all, both female and male, responding, he said, to clear message he received from them, that they needed him as much as he needed them. It was due to this initial encounter and the decisions made at that time that the unique style of ceremony—discussed in detail in Chapter 3—has been established at the Temple; the combination of female and male healers, the unique style of interaction between healers and patients within the ceremonies, and the large number of healers present in each ceremony are a direct result of this initial meeting. ‘There were simply too many of them,’ Matthew said, to run the ceremony in a manner reflecting more traditional practices.

In their research regarding Western tourists to Iquitos, Fotiou (2010) and Holman (2010) found that that the vast majority of shamanism available in the area was practiced by mestizos and Westerners. At the time of writing in 2017, however, Shipibo healing in Iquitos has become plentiful, now available at multiple destinations in and around the city, reflecting a wide acknowledgement of the popularity of this alternative (e.g. Ayahuasca Foundation, 2017; DreamGlade, 2014; Nihue Rao, 2017) and includes centres now operated by some of the practitioners who were working at the Temple at the time of my fieldwork (e.g. Cáya Shóbo, 2016; Jakon Nete, 2017).

likely to work in ways more akin to Western herbalists, but not in ceremony with ayahuasca. When I clarified this, they insisted: ‘Yes, even with ayahuasca.’ I did not hear this elsewhere. 77 While I acknowledge the diverse, complex, and important issues regarding colonisation and cultural appropriation—and that within this framework, Matthew’s actions cannot be regarded as ‘neutral’— they were not often discussed by participants in this research beyond generalised comments noting their probable existence. For explorations of these issues, see Fotiou (2016b), Hern (1992), and Hilario (2010). In this section, I have presented Matthew’s representation.

56 THE NAME

It was Matthew’s first maestro, Javier who conceived of the name: Templo Camino de la Luz. Matthew told me: ‘Apparently, it was given by spirit’. He acknowledged that the name has been a hindrance at times, with the word ‘Temple’ in particular carrying connotations of organised religion while ‘the Way of Light,’ he said, sounds ‘a bit new-agey’. He insisted, however, that neither of these inferences reflect the essence of the centre’s purpose: ‘This is a healthcare system. This is a hospital.’ He later said that he believed that over the years since its inception it had, in any case, developed into ‘… truly a temple. One of many; not the only one, of course.’

The Merriam Webster dictionary (2017) states that the word ‘temple’ probably originates from:

Old English, tempel and Anglo-French temple, both from Latin templum [referring to a] space marked out for observation of auguries …; probably akin to Greek temenos [referring to a] sacred precinct.

While activities across the grounds tend to more closely reflect its usage as a healing centre, the malokas where ceremonies and meetings are held are indeed treated by Western visitors with similar respect and even reverence usually accorded to places of worship and meditation.

In my experience at the Temple, I found that the name did trigger fears for some (albeit few) guests upon their arrival, who revealed initial concerns about the possibility that the centre was the base for a cult. It was rare, however, that those who arrived with these doubts departed harbouring the same concerns, especially, they would tell me, after their interactions in ceremony with the maestr@s and the medicine.

THE VISION

The vision of the Temple of the Way of Light is to provide the ultimate facility to work with ayahuasca and plant spirits of the Amazon affecting the deepest levels of healing possible. We aim to develop credibility and understanding in the West around the work with ayahuasca and plant spirit healing in the Amazon and help with ongoing efforts for this ancient practice to become accepted by the mainstream as a highly valuable, beneficial and necessary healthcare system for us all. Temple of the Way of Light (2009b)

This quote, taken from the Temple website, reveals just part of an extensive and diverse vision for the Temple. It is premised with ideals of spiritual awakening and followed by aspirations that in healing themselves, visitors to the Temple will return to their homes around the world and ultimately affect healing for their families, their communities, their wider culture, and their environment.

57 The vision of the Temple is premised on the understanding that a ‘wide-spread spiritual awakening is taking place … transcending cultural, political and ethnic boundaries’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009b). Stating that ‘as individuals we are a microcosm of the planet’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l), the website aligns with the developing changes in CAM discourses discussed in Chapter 1 encouraging a focus of self-responsibility for the manifestation of relative health in the surrounding environment.

The Temple website states:

Collectively, we are at the tipping point of enormous change. Our destiny appears poised between irreversibly destroying the environment and the air we breathe, and a spiritual awakening that transcends cultural, political and ethnic boundaries. The stakes are not just the survival and evolution of humanity but the evolution of the planet herself (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l).

In connecting spiritual awakening and the evolution of both humanity and the planet, this statement resonates with various psychedelic, New Age and many other counter-cultural movements which maintain that significant shifts in the world as we know it are (necessarily) occurring during this time in humanity’s evolution. Early advocates, researchers and writers in the field of psychedelics, have explored matters akin to this, emergent in the tenets of millenarianism, Mayanism, some systems of astrology, as well as other eschatological belief systems which propose that humanity in its current form is undergoing a significant transformation in consciousness (e.g. McKenna, 1984, 1993; McKenna and McKenna, 1975; Pinchbeck, 2002, 2012). Reflecting a form of millenarianism, the Temple website states:

It is possible to observe shifts in dominant cultural patterns once or twice every 1000 years. We appear to be in the midst of just one such shift: a period of rapidly accelerating social change and greater transparency. A new level of consciousness is rising in growing numbers of people who are more socially and environmentally aware and more spiritually focused (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l).

Relevant to pasajeros during the course of my fieldwork was the specific date of 21st December 2012. In representing the end of the Mayan calendar this date augured, for some of them, a significant time for humanity.78 While some interpretations in the literature posited a physical

78 Temple management amended workshop schedules so that ceremonies would be held on the night of 21 December 2012. All three malokas ran at full capacity, catering for approximately 50 participants across the site in total. While it was a significant date to commemorate at the Temple, however, the many of the workshop participants had chosen to attend during this time so they could vacate their home environments for the Christmas period, rather than to commemorate the particular date. Many pasajeros referred to 2012 over the course of my fieldwork, however, having adopted expectations that human consciousness was undergoing significant shifts.

58 end to humanity, possibly brought about by an asteroid or other planetary body colliding with the earth, or a similar catastrophic event heralding Armageddon (e.g. Coe, 1966), pasajeros tended more to relate to other authors (e.g. Pittman, 2011; Raposo, 2011; Sitler, 2006) who believed the ‘end of the world’ predicted something more symbolic. For them it heralded an accelerated ‘rise’ in human consciousness, possibly over a period of years that would radically influence humanity’s perception of reality, the relationships between people, and between people and the earth. At the time, Pinchbeck (2012: 1-2) wrote:

… human consciousness is rapidly transitioning to a new state, a new intensity of awareness that will manifest as a different understanding, a transformed realization, of time and space and self. By this thesis, the transition is already under way—though largely subliminally— and will become increasingly evident as we approach the year 2012.

Clearly, the 2012 date has passed as I write this, however, understandings that human consciousness continues to undergo radical change through this time endure and proliferate (e.g. Malloy, 2015; Tanaaz, 2015). They continued to infiltrate ideologies of many pasajeros past the 2012 date.

As outlined in Chapter 1, this understanding of a causal relationship between personal spiritual transformation and desired changes to the socio-political and ecological environment is increasingly adopted in CAM discourses. It aligns with the stated focus of the Temple, reflected in the quote from Lao-Tzu on their website:

If you want to awaken all of humanity, then awaken all of yourself. If you want to eliminate the suffering in the World, then eliminate all that is dark and negative in yourself. Truly, the greatest gift you have to give is that of your own self-transformation (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009b).

This focus centres on the recognition of the planet as ‘alive and sentient’, with a focus on mutually beneficial relationships between it and humanity (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l).

Part of Matthew’s initial vision, and one that he says continues to be driven by guidance from the plant spirits, is to provide access to the Amazonian plant medicine healing system in an environment that is accessible to a Western demographic. On a global scale he identifies Western values and worldviews as responsible for the increasing alienation people are experiencing from their natural environment (which, as I will discuss in Chapter 4, resonates with a large proportion of visitors to the Temple). He indicates that this alienation leads to increasing dis-ease on an individual, collective and environmental basis. In this discourse, Western culture, steeped in capitalism and assuming increasing influence worldwide, is wreaking havoc on the health and longevity of all that exists as the antithesis of capitalism: all that is ‘natural’. Following the same kind of focus on the creation of a syncretic culture as he 59 has incorporated into the philosophies and practices at the Temple, Matthew often spoke of his hope that as traditional and conventional medicine are integrated, new health paradigms might emerge that become applicable on a global basis, across all cultural boundaries, which instigate new paradigms of living in sustainable and health-full ways.

The Temple website (Temple of the Way of Light, 2016) states:

Our vision is to become a plant-spirit medicine based university hospital and flagship healing center embodying the new paradigm in healing, integration and expansion of consciousness.

In this pursuit, the incorporation of discourses emergent from ‘quantum physics, string field theories, advanced molecular biology, psychology and many more elements of science’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l) are purposefully integrated. They inform the discussions that Matthew passionately engages in with workshop groups as well as the diverse range of political, scientific, professional, creative, artistic, therapeutic, and heart-centred experts and enthusiasts he draws from all over the world into the bounds of the Temple’s philosophies and environment in a bid to encourage collaboration for the fulfilment of his visions. Further, each individual visitor to the Temple brings their own unique knowledge, be it spiritual, scientific, legal, academic, medical and various other forms of existential knowledge to the mix. The result is the creation of an eclectic philosophical environment that encourages diversity and freedom for thought and meaning-making.

This approach is reflected in adaptations of the ways in which Shipibo culture is presented and understood. Rather than representing a destructive process, Matthew argues that Shipibo culture is consequently reinvigorated, allowing for its survival in a wave of globalisation that he says cannot be discounted or ignored. Additionally, he insists that at all stages, Temple management is focused on reciprocal benefit. He points to the two NGOs that he has established for the purpose of supporting both Shipibo and local villages around the Temple.79 The increasing permeability of cultural boundaries remains paramount to his vision.

On a macro level, the Temple’s vision is, ‘[i]n our own small way … to help our planet and make a difference’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009b). This has strongly influenced daily operations on a micro level. Temple management have maintained a keen focus on safety, cleanliness, and comfort which remains one of its greatest drawcards for foreign visitors who

79 The sister organisations, NGOs, Alianza Arkana and the Chaikuni Institute, will be discussed shortly.

60 are increasingly exposed to information regarding unsafe and even dangerous practices existent in the burgeoning, largely unregulated, market for ayahuasca tourism.80

In addition to its reputation for safety, for those participating in workshops the Temple is highly regarded for the quality of accommodation and food provided, and for the level of service provided. With the inclusion of such comforts as inner-spring mattresses, porcelain basins and comfortable, odourless composting toilets in the tambos; fresh, wholesome foods; filtered spring water for drinking in the dining room; thick foam mattresses covered with freshly laundered sheets for ceremonies, and 24-hour access to facilitators and support staff, the Temple, while remaining simple and rustic in its remote jungle location, incorporates elements of comfort that were uncommon in many other local facilities.81

With a reputation for safety and relative comfort within a jungle environment, the Temple represents an attractive alternative for many of the Western visitors who seek out an experience with ayahuasca in the jungle with some trepidation. Another attraction for many is the focus on reciprocity that the Temple engages in through their sister NGOs, Alianza Arkana and the Chaikuni Institute.

THE NON-GOVERNMENT ORGANISATIONS (NGOS)

As Jeremy Narby suggests in his testimonial quoted near the beginning of this chapter, the Temple of the Way of Light comprises multiple facets. While I often heard Matthew describe the Temple itself as ‘a hospital’, a ‘traditional medicine healing centre’, and a ‘psychiatric ward’, in reference to the healing environment created there for Westerners, the work done by some of the Temple’s staff extends far beyond the focus on wellness for Western individuals.

In one of our initial conversations, Matthew stated that within Western capitalist societies, ‘the human body is a profit centre’. ‘Big Business’, he said—most saliently that which is involved with the health industry—relies on dis-ease for both its ongoing existence and the ever- increasing profits fundamental to its capitalistic derivation.82 While he stated: ‘let’s face it,

80 In direct reference to the Temple, I heard of only one situation in which a newly employed maestro had acted inappropriately in ceremony with some of the female pasajeros. One of the women involved had returned to the Temple to participate in the Work Exchange programme, largely due, she said, to its ‘reputation for integrity’. She said that the Matthew’s response was both professional and swift, as he immediately dismissed the maestro after corroborating the stories of the women involved. 81 While the ‘comforts’ provided at the Temple represented a significant improvement in comparison to other local facilities, the cold-water showers, nylon netting in place of glass windows on the timber and thatched-roofed tambos, and the absence of electricity remained challenging for some visitors. 82 Matthew’s comments resonate with critiques of pharmaceuticalization (Abraham, 2010; Bell and Figert, 2012) and medicalization (Clarke et al., 2003; Lock and Nguyen, 2010).

61 we’re a business here’, he also pointed out that the mission of the Temple stands in opposition to Big Business models. Reminiscent of Giddens’ (2000) ideals of The Third Way, his focus, while requiring reinvestment of capital for ongoing expansion and profit, is also on reciprocity, social democracy and environmental justice, a blend of left and right-wing policy with a resolute focus on environmental rejuvenation and sustainability.83 In conjunction with the focus on helping Westerners to heal utilising the extensive knowledge incorporated in Indigenous medicine, he has established two NGOs that invert this focus. They utilise Western knowledge to assist with what he has identified as issues requiring healing for the Shipibo population within an environment increasingly dominated by capitalism and industrialisation. Articulating a determined focus on reciprocity combined with concern about the damage he witnessed that had been caused to the local peoples in the Amazon by the infiltration of Western practices and ideals, Matthew facilitated the establishment of two NGOs, Alianza Arkana and The Chaikuni Institute, which at the time of my fieldwork were funded primarily by proceeds from the Temple.84

ALIANZA ARKANA

The name Alianza Arkana (AA) was created from a combination of Spanish and Shipibo. Alianza in Spanish translates to ‘Alliance’ while Arkana is a word that has been adopted from the Quechua people by the Shipibo, meaning ‘protective force’ (Alianza Arkana, 2017). It translates, therefore to ‘The Protection Alliance’ and was established as a sister organisation to the Temple in 2010 as a ‘Grassroots Alliance Protecting the Amazon by Supporting its People and Traditions’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009c). In a personal communication (2012), Matthew advised that AA was financed by the profits from the Temple of the Way of Light, and was established to support and work with Shipibo healers, Indigenous leaders and local community members,

who unfortunately have had their connection to traditional medicine severed due to missionary activities demonizing shamanism as well as acculturation by the socio economic model from the West that has massively weakened their identity and traditions.

83 This approach incorporates the notion of value in an enterprise based on its social impact. For information on measurements of Social Return on Investment (SROI), see Emerson et at. (2000, 2001) and Lingane and Olsen (2004). 84 In 2015 Alianza Arkana became an independent NGO and is now run autonomously from the Temple of the Way of Light. I have retained information on it here as it represented an important part of Matthew’s business model during the time of my fieldwork.

62 Focused on the environmental crisis occurring in the Amazon and the effect this is having both on the planet and the local peoples, local and Western staff employed by AA undertake a broad range of activities. These include: environmental justice and human rights; intercultural education enabling Shipibo students to attend local universities; support for local school programmes; community-based education programmes focused on permaculture techniques, midwifery, nutrition and cooking workshops; and community-based initiatives for the implementation and maintenance of projects that encourage sustainable food production and waste management. The purpose of these initiatives is to encourage economic self-sufficiency, as well as education, healthcare, clean water, and self-sustainable power generation (Alianza Arkana, 2012; Temple of the Way of Light, 2009c).85

In each of these cases, Western techniques are informed by Indigenous and ancestral knowledge to establish systems in which local peoples can establish self-sustainability and financial empowerment while simultaneously supporting regeneration of the natural environment. Within this model, permaculture has emerged as a key element. Permaculture techniques encompass environmental care and sustainability, egalitarian notions of management, production of necessary resources for local consumption, and ultimately, surplus production which provides income to local communities (see Regenerative Leadership Institute, 2014; Suh, 2014; Terra Phoenix Design and Temple of the Way of Light, 2012). Further to this, when combined with ancestral knowledge, staff working within the Temple’s sister organisations hope that the implementation of permaculture techniques will encourage a reversal of the trends that have emerged towards increasing monoculture to affect a reinvigoration of the intimate relationship between communities and their natural environment. In 2012, the Chaikuni Institute was established with this particular focus.

CHAIKUNI PERMACULTURE INSTITUTE

The planet earth is in peril as never before. Maurice Strong, Secretary-General of the United Nations Conference on Environment and Development, in his opening remarks at the Sacred Earth Gathering, June 3, 1992. (Chaikuni Institute, 2013b) The Chaikuni Institute was founded in January, 2013, in response to the perception of Matthew and others who were working with Alianza Arkana that a permanent permaculture organisation focused on education and research would be advantageous in order ‘to catalyse a wide-scale process of ecological, social and economic regeneration for the Amazon’ (Chaikuni Institute,

85 Alianza Arkana was awarded a national prize for ‘Community Participation’ from the Ministry of Environment in Peru within the first year of its inception.

63 2013a). Still in its infancy at the time of my fieldwork, the main activities of the institute are currently centred on the grounds of the Temple where much of the 175 hectares of land now owned by them are being developed in line with ‘a masterplan design carried out by Terra Phoenix Designs and led by world renowned permaculture designer and tropical permaculture expert, Doug Bullock’ (Chaikuni Institute, 2017). Named after benevolent spirits known by the Shipibo to protect the Amazon rainforest and its people, the Chaikuni Institute embraces this mission within an extensive vision that incorporates free support and education for Indigenous peoples funded both by profits from the Temple and by permaculture courses and internships that are ultimately planned for Westerners.

Describing the philosophy that underlies the development of Chaikuni, Matthew wrote: ‘Permaculture fundamentally rejects the model of industrial growth at the core of its ethics and aspires to design fairer, more equitable systems that take into account the limits of the planet’s resources and the needs of all living beings’ (in Captain Bill, 2012). With the aim of creating an establishment built firmly on this foundation, the first stages of the Permaculture Master Plan are currently being implemented on the Temple grounds where the bulk of human activity is focused on the establishment of ‘food forests (mixed trees of Amazonian and tropical varieties), horticulture, aquaculture, fish farms, staple food production, medicinal gardens, nurseries, sustainable ayahuasca production and extensive reforestation projects’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009e). The project has the potential to eventually spread across the entirety of the Temple’s land, enabling the Temple to become completely self-sustainable. This will entail the production of both plant and animal based foods (including chicken and fish), as well as water, medicines, cleaning and personal hygiene products, building materials, and energy within an established framework that provides ‘diversity, stability, and resilience’ (Terra Phoenix Design and Temple of the Way of Light, 2012: 70).

While Centre 3 was operating as an interim location for Chaikuni by the end of my fieldwork, long-term plans incorporate a new independent centre that will be located approximately one kilometre away from the current constructions in the Temple grounds. It will contain accommodation facilities, classrooms, workshops and research facilities where research, training, and permaculture accreditation courses will be offered in an environment reminiscent of a (jungle-style) residential college or university.

IN CONTINUING DEVELOPMENT

Reflecting both the constantly transforming jungle surrounds within which it is nestled and the hyper-dynamic healing trajectories of visitors and staff who visit, the Temple is continually changing and evolving. As it moves beyond the stage that Matthew affectionately refers to as its

64 ‘teenage phase’, changes to its current manifestation and plans for future projects are in place to ensure that its development continues. Traditional building methods are being replaced by more modern techniques and materials, allowing for increased solidity and longevity for the approximately 80 structures that exist across the grounds.86 Beyond this, potential plans for further development include the construction of an eco-village where staff and long-term residents might live in an environment more conducive to intimate and family relationships, at a distance from the social and dietary restrictions that are in place for the pasajeros visiting for ceremonies. Additionally, Matthew spoke of a long-term vision to establish a medical university where Western, Eastern and Indigenous medicine techniques can be combined in a holistic approach to health that might be applied across cultural boundaries.

In the interim, reflecting the transition time from teen to adulthood, a new integration programme has been introduced for ‘Continuing Care’ in recognition of the needs of many visitors for ongoing emotional and psychological support and integration after their workshops (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017e). This initiative incorporates access to a wide variety of materials including books, films, documentaries, blogs, reference to sites of spiritual practice, contact details for therapists around the world who are trained in integration techniques for psychedelic experiences, and live access to a network of professionals and to others who have visited the Temple.

When I returned to the Temple in June 2015, the new focus on integration was strongly reflected in the atmosphere around the Temple. Having been through a major growth and development phase, the Temple, too, was settling into a period of repose that was palpable in the new level of quiet and peace that permeated it.

86 The Construction Manager advised that the move from traditional log and palm-leaf structures to treated timber and corrugated roofing, while being less environmentally friendly in the short-term will minimise environmental impact overall. Where the original structures erected at the Temple required rebuilding every 3-5 years, he estimated that the new structures may last anywhere up to 50 years with minimal maintenance. This move to longevity reflects a transition into a more stable ‘adulthood’ for the Temple which management clearly expects to endure long-term.

65 CHAPTER 3: WORKING WITH PLANT MEDICINES AT THE TEMPLE

As a location that self-identifies as both ‘traditional’ and ‘pioneering’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017m), the Temple is a site that not only potentiates personal transformations, but also cultural ones. Within an intricate net of relationships, each of the actors affects and is affected by the others in an environment where (often diverse) hegemonic worldviews, epistemologies, and ontologies provide novel filters for action, reaction, interpretation, and reinterpretation of what might be considered ‘real’. Typically, for the Western mindset, introduction to the philosophies embraced at the Temple can unhinge some foundational premises: mainstream medical and political renunciation of ‘psychedelic drugs’ as therapeutic agents is necessarily questioned; notions of aetiology are challenged; novel forms of meaning-making become necessary in realms where language no longer contains the appropriate symbols for representation; and recognition of non-human agency becomes possible as the notion of medicine is propelled from the realms of object to subject.

Shipibo techniques of healing, too, must adapt to facilitate the multiple mindsets embraced by their new (and affluent) market: novel notions of spirituality; disjointed applications of unfamiliar medicines and techniques; discourses of self-responsibility and disparate diagnoses for psychopathological dysfunction; unique (disconnected, hierarchical) relationships between people and the natural environment; and maladaptive (abusive, dependent) relationships between people and consciousness-altering substances, must all be considered and integrated— at least to some degree—into the healing milieu.

In this chapter I outline beliefs and practices embraced in the Shipibo system of ayahuasca plant spirit medicine and describe a ‘typical’ ceremony at the Temple. I provide a brief overview of some of the significant adaptations that have been made in the syncretic space of the Temple, highlighting some of the ways in which local ‘tradition’ is being moulded for a more globalised future.

THE ONTOLOGY OF THE SHIPIBO

There was once a wise man and wise woman who lived in the jungle with two sons. One night, the wise man had a dream in which he saw that he would die. In that dream, he received instructions on what needed to happen to his body. The next day, he told his family that when he died, he was not to be buried. Instead they needed to place his body under a

66 particular tree and return each month to see what had happened. He asked the family to gather for a celebration, and the next day, he passed away.

One month later, when the family returned to the place they left his body, they found it mainly covered in earth. A couple of months later, a vine started to grow from his head.

Not long after, the wise woman had a similar dream, gaining instructions for her sons to take her body to a place in the sun after her impending death. This, they did. From her grew the chacruna plant.

The sons brewed the two plants together, producing oni kobo - the name given to ayahuasca by the Shipibo, meaning ‘prepared knowledge’.87 Shipibo origin story of Ayahuasca as told to pasajeros by facilitator, Jane (4th June, 2015)

During the year that I was living at the Temple to carry out fieldwork, the origin story of Ayahuasca as told by the Shipibo was not often shared with groups of pasajeros and visitors. I did not personally hear the story until the last months of my stay when one of the new maestros shared it on a ‘jungle walk’ held for a group of pasajeros. Prior to that, I had heard a few references to descriptions of the relative masculine and feminine attributes of the ayahuasca brew. One facilitator explained that the ayahuasca vine grows in the shade, and being the purgative, cleansing aspect thus constitutes the feminine aspect of the experience. Chacruna, he said, grows in the sun and activates the visions, insights and energy in the experience, thus representing the masculine energy.88 When I first heard the Shipibo origin story, I noted that attributions of feminine and masculine to the component parts of the ayahuasca brew were curiously reversed. At the time of my return to the Temple in 2015, the facilitators of my group who shared the story to their workshop group stated that while the spirit of Ayahuasca is often referred to as female in various cosmologies (particularly in Western discourses), the Shipibo recognise the plant spirits as androgynous. The Shipibo myth, they said, switches the feminine and masculine, effectively pointing to the existence of each within the other.89

Groups at the Temple are advised that the Shipibo word for ayahuasca is oni (pron. 'ooni'; Temple of the Way of Light, 2017m) meaning ‘knowledge or wisdom’ or oni kobo meaning

87 Brabec de Mori (2011: 29) recounts an abridged version of this story, told to him by renowned Shipibo medico, Benjamin Mahua: ‘A very powerful healer from downriver, his name was Agustin Murayari, after his death transformed into the ayahuasca liana. His wife, Maria Luisa, who had knowledge of all the medical plants, after her death converted into the chakruna [sic] bush. That's why you have to use them together, they are husband and wife.’ 88 This interpretation is reflective of Delaney’s (1991: 8) analysis in The Seed and the Soil, in which the ‘creative spark’ that activates the manifestation of something new is ascribed to the masculine in origin myths within the Abrahamic (Jewish, Christian and Islamic) traditions. 89 For further analysis of the gendered aspect of ayahuasca, see Fotiou (2014: 171-6).

67 ‘cooked (or prepared) knowledge’ in Shipibo. Shamans or healers are called Onanya, meaning ‘one who has knowledge’.90 The history of ayahuasca use by the Shipibo remains contested, with many representations—including that from the Temple (see also Furst, 1976; Narby, 1998; Temple of the Way of Light, 2017m)—indicating that the practice is ‘ancient’ with its origins possibly dating back thousands of years. In-depth investigations carried out by Gow (1996), Beyer (2012a), and Brabec de Mori (2011), however, argue that ayahuasca has likely been used as part of shamanic practices in Western Amazonia for only the past 2-300 years. According to them, it spread throughout the region by mestizos in conjunction with the rubber boom. Gow (1996: 109) refers to it as ‘a readymade technique for curing the massive rupture caused for these tribal people by the extremities of violence and exploitation in the rubber industry.’ Shepard (1998: 326) suggests that the currently utilised combination of ayahuasca and chacruna was likely introduced to the Ucayali region in the 20th century.

The Temple website (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017c) states that ‘many consider the Shipibo to be the most highly skilled ayahuasca healers in the Peruvian Amazon’, which was a sentiment I heard repeated consistently through the duration of my time in Peru (e.g. Fotiou, 2010). Indeed, the kené designs produced by Shipibo artisans (see below) are increasingly becoming synonymous with ayahuasca ceremonies throughout Peru (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017c) and throughout the world (e.g. Charing, 2017; Gearin, 2015; Pantone, 2006).

The Shipibo medicine system is strongly based in the maintenance of harmonious relationships. Behrens and Beierle (2001) state that the Shipibo recognise two ‘categories of disease’, the first being diseases of the ‘flesh’ and the second as those caused by ‘yoshinbo’.91 They suggest that while Western medicines are recognised as being effective for the former, vegetalistas—another name for plant medicine healers—are consulted for the latter. Shipibo Onanya recognise the root cause of many diseases as energetic interferences, most often inflicted on a person by another through the realms of spirit.

Brabec de Mori (2009: 124) states that the Shipibo do not have language to describe ‘medicine’ as understood in a Western biomedical sense, but instead approach ‘curing’ by manipulating

90 Brabec de Mori (2011: 34) states ‘Panoan groups … call the [ayahuasca] brew oni (huni, 'uni), meaning "person," perhaps referring to the ayahuasca creation story’. Roe (1982: 89) indicates that ayahuasca was referred to as nishi at the time he carried out research with the Shipibo. Brabec de Mori and Mori Silvano de Brabec (2009b: 22) refer to Shipibo ‘healer-sorcerers’ (who refer to themselves as médicos in Spanish) as yobé. 91 Brabec de Mori (2009: 131) states that the yoshin refers to ‘the “human” persons’ that animate flora, fauna and certain aspects of the landscape in the form of “spiritual entities”’. In one of my interviews with a Shipibo Onanya, he referred to the ibo which translates to ‘owner’ of a physical form, also referring to its spirit form. Here, the two terms have been blended.

68 social behaviours: ‘e.g. “curing” a son-in-law in order to have him obey his father-in-law’. The Temple website (2017c) states that ‘indigenous healers recognize the destructive power of negative human emotions and their impact not just on the individual but the health of the whole community.’ In Shipibo ontologies, social upheaval can lead to what Westerners would frame as physical illness, however, the causes are understood in terms of energetic manipulations, elemental interference and the deliberate application of spells or curses by a brujo (Span: sorcerer or witchdoctor). A brujo can use virote (Span.: energetic darts) that they cast into the energy field of an intended victim in order to inflict pain, illness or even death. This is sometimes done for personal reasons and sometimes on the behest of a paying client, but in either case it is usually carried out as a form of retaliation based in jealousy, envy or hatred in its many guises. Maestro Rogelio told me: ‘In Peru, people mostly are suffering from daños. Very dangerous.’92 Elemental forces may also be involved, and so to ascertain the root cause of illness and disharmony, an Onanya must first determine precisely what they must work to eradicate.

The ayahuasca brew is imperative within this system of healing. It opens the vision of the Onanya, allowing them to see and interact with the spirit world. It is the working relationship between the Onanya and the spirits of plants, animals and other elemental spirits that allows ‘curing’ to occur. Maestro Rogelio said:

without ayahuasca, one cannot know things. One does not feel how the visions are. So ayahuasca is the main base, ayahuasca and tobacco.93 Tobacco and chacruna. On this base you see the plant spirits. Because without ayahuasca, there is nothing, like right now, we don’t see anything. So, ayahuasca is everything, the base of everything.

When the ayahuasca brew is consumed, Rogelio explained that it ‘gives us mareación’, while ‘chacruna is what opens the visions’.94 It is due to this visionary state and the connections it facilitates with the spirit world that the Onanya’s apprenticeship is possible; it is within this state that the practices of diagnosis and prescription can be discerned and some elements of it carried out.

In a typical Shipibo ceremony, a healer rarely works alone due to the inherent dangers involved in repelling brujeria (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 126). Rogelio told me that they prefer to work with

92 Daños in Spanish, literally means ‘damages’. Here it refers to harm created by another, akin to a curse or spell. 93 I will discuss tobacco shortly. 94 Mareación is Spanish for ‘dizziness’ or ‘sea-sickness’ and is used at the Temple to describe the sensation of the altered state experienced within ceremony.

69 only a select few family members, as it was important that they had complete trust in each other. The number of patients in attendance in any one ceremony is also generally small and it is uncommon for them to drink ayahuasca (Brabec de Mori, 2009; Temple of the Way of Light, 2017c). At least one Onanya will drink ayahuasca and work with the plant spirits to ascertain the cause of a patient’s maladies and the prescriptions that must be applied. In a single healing session, the application of medicine, predominantly through the ikaros (see below), is typically broken up by general conversation, laughing and smoking with family members. Payment by the patient is most often in the form of goods or the provision of the ingredients for the ayahuasca brew (Maestro Rogelio).

In order to conceptualise the central elements in an ayahuasca ceremony, it is important to understand the concept of the plant dieta (Span.: diet), as it is through the dieta that the Onanya meets the plant spirits, gains other spirit allies, and learns much about how to work with and apply the various medicines and other techniques involved in their craft.

THE PLANT DIETA

NATURE’S UNIVERSITY

The most efficient way to achieve any goal is to diet. Bernd Brabec de Mori (2009: 141)

At the Temple, groups are told that participating in plant dietas, called sáma in Shipibo (Brabec de Mori, 2014: 210), is the equivalent for an Onanya to attending a university or college in Western civilisations (see also, Narby, 1998: 154). It is within dietas that Shipibo healers instigate and develop their relationships with the plant and other elemental spirits and gain much of the knowledge that is integral to their ultimate practice and efficacy. Unlike Western educational institutions within which learning is predominantly obtained through the mediums of lectures and written materials—a predominantly intellectual and visual approach—a significant amount of the knowledge that informs the healing practices of Shipibo shamanism is learned through personal experience, directly from the animating force of the plants themselves within the practice of a plant dieta.95 Revealing a distinctly different epistemology, the

95 This is the predominant discourse at the Temple and was reflected in interviews I carried out with Shipibo Onanya. Some longer term visitors who worked with the Shipibo (more often outside of the Temple environment) instead suggested, as Gow (1996: 95) does, that: ‘Though shamans claim that knowledge can be acquired directly from the plant spirits, knowledge is mainly acquired through training with another shaman.’

70 production of this form of information for the Shipibo emerges from the internal environment of the apprentice in relationship with the subtle energetic forms of spiritual Others.

Brabec de Mori (2009) emphasises that the utilisation of plants in the context of Shipibo healing is not determined as a result of their pharmaceutical properties. He states that in fact, ‘many plant preparations used … [do] not contain any detectable active components’ (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 131). Rather, he says, it is the plant’s yoshin that is recognised as the source of effective power (Brabec de Mori, 2009). For the Shipibo, there is only one yoshin or ‘spiritual entity’ for each species of flora and fauna, and while many are ‘regarded as useless’ within a healing context, there are some that are distinguished for their ‘remarkable transformative powers’ (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 131-2).96 It is these plants that the Onanya needs to diet in order to co- opt their healing powers and apply them to patients (see Jaureguia et al., 2011: 744-5 for a comprehensive list).

In the initial dietas undertaken by apprentice Onanya, their maestro will often choose the plants they will diet and instruct them on how to carry the diet out.97 Once the apprentice has worked directly with the plants for some time, they will then begin to make these decisions based on the information shared directly with them from the plant spirits themselves. Commonly, the Onanya imbibes their chosen plant/s in an environment of social isolation, sexual abstinence (with others and with the self; even sexual dreams are required to be terminated where possible by the apprentice), and severe food restrictions in order to allow for a strong connection and learning that subsequently follows.

The method of preparation for individual plants can differ, as can the parts of the plants that are imbibed. Initially, the maestro facilitates the connection between the apprentice and the yoshin of the plant that is dieted, and instructs them on some of the supporting practices they will require to become effective healers, such as running a ceremony, for example. The apprentice will then ascertain information directly from the plant spirits as they develop their connection throughout the duration of their diets. Maestro Rogelio stated:

96 See Viveiros de Castro (2004) for a thorough analysis of South American perspectivism, which recognises the same ‘generic type of soul’ (Viveiros de Castro, 2004: 4) in both human and non-human agents. The notion of intelligence and agency in plants has also been (thoroughly and variously) explored by Kohn (2013) and Narby (2006). 97 While I am unaware of restrictions for females to act in the position of maestra to an apprentice, all of the healers I interviewed (both male and female) spoke of their maestro (male). They all indicated that both males and females could be an Onanya; one female Onanya insisted that there were equal numbers of men and women in the role. Brabec de Mori (2011: 28), however, notes that 95% of Ayahuasca ‘specialists’ he met among the Shipibo were male. Temple management advised that it was more difficult to find females than males to work with in ceremonies. They said that the women were more often involved in work more akin to Western herbalists.

71 with my first diets, I started with a medico [doctor]. My first diet was six months, yes six months of diet …in six months I saw how to manage, how to prepare, how to do ceremony. So he explained to me: well, you have to come and learn. So, I watched. The 6 months I dieted, I accomplished my diet. Then I continued on my own. I prepared my own plants, my own medicines, I dieted myself. And that is how I continued. Two months, one month of diet, 15 days, 10 days, one week, one day, like that. First, you diet a long time. After that, two months, one month…like this I dieted.

A dieta is usually ‘opened’ with an ayahuasca ceremony. The apprentice will then remain in isolation in the jungle for a predetermined time, visited intermittently only by their maestro who may sometimes drink ayahuasca again with the apprentice to check how the diet is progressing. Maestro Rogelio explained:

when you are in diet you don’t use [ayahuasca] constantly. To start, to open, the maestro gives us the diet, hands it over to us. Then, after like a week, to see how it is functioning, how is the diet working, to see all this. After that, after 10 days, more or less. Then, at the end of the diet again, and then … the maestro evaluates us. He makes us sing. Sometimes with a patient. But not with an adult, with a ‘creature’ [baby], and the maestro observes us and evaluates us to see. If we heal, then ok, it’s a good diet. If there is no healing, then you have to diet more. That is how the evaluation of a healer goes.

While the diet is open, the focus for the apprentice is developing connection and communication with the spirit of the plant they are dieting. Brabec de Mori (2012a: 82) explains that they may ‘have wake-state visions [and] hear voices’ during their waking hours—an experience that he points out could be construed as ‘fairly psychotic perception’ in Western ontologies (Brabec de Mori, 2012a: 82). The main method of learning from the plants during this time, however, occurs through dreams, at which time ‘the “dieter” experiences a form of ”going native” among non-humans’ (Brabec de Mori, 2012a: 83). Maestro Rogelio explained:

So, in your dreams sometimes, it [the plant spirit] will ask you ‘Why have you drunk/taken me? What do you want to do? What do you want?’ So, you can decide to respond: ‘Well, I want to learn. I want to be a healer.’ OK, very well. From there, they tell you how long you are going to diet, and what things you are not going to eat. That’s where the diets come from.

He described the requirements for social and dietary restrictions in terms of a test of the apprentice’s discipline and their commitment to learning from the plants. He said: ‘the strongest tests that come are the women. One must not be looking for women. Just like religion.’ Additionally, there is usually a requirement to omit salt, sugar, oil, and alcohol from the diet. He explained: 72 plants have never eaten salt. They don’t like salt. That comes from the information from the plant. In all diets, the information comes out from the plants. All. Myself, I don’t know. Myself, I cannot invent these disciplines. This discipline comes from the plants themselves.

Salt, sugar, oil and alcohol, he said, ‘cleans out’ the plants from the body; in a physical sense, if fed directly to plants, he noted that these ingredients will ultimately kill them. The apprentice, therefore, will usually follow a restrictive food regime during the diet, most commonly eating only boquichico (a freshwater, vegetarian fish) and green plantains (savoury banana), and drinking only water.98

In an attempt to conceptualise this practice in terms of the epistemology of knowledge production, Callicott (2013: 39) suggests that by restricting the input of strong energies and alternative substances into the body during a dieta, the apprentice becomes more able to engage in ‘direct experience and interpretation of non-linguistic, phytochemical cues’ provided by the plants being dieted. These embodied cues, she suggests, can then be codified into ‘culture- specific mimetic responses’ to the plants. It is an approach that requires the apprentice to develop the ability to ‘hear’ nonlexical, non-rational, subtle signals and then transform them into effective and applicable forms of medicine. One of the predominant ways they accomplish this is through the interpretation, production and application of the ‘songs of the plants’, the ikaros (see below). The prioritisation of ‘sound production and auditory perception’ is highlighted by Hill (2009: 104) as ‘the main sense modes for mediating between humans, animals, and spirits throughout Lowland South America’.

In addition to the regulations regarding how dietas are to be carried out, it is within the dieta that the Onanya learns how to ‘best cure sick people’ (Maestra Cielo). Maestra Cielo explained that the plants impart the necessary information regarding how and why they can be utilised and prepared as a cure. In a physical sense, plant preparations may be applied externally in the forms of infused baths, salves and lotions, and prescribed for internal use as teas and tinctures (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 132). Additionally, the plants may ‘give’ the dieter special ‘gifts’ such as

98 It is interesting to note the reference to religion in this explanation. Many Westerners spoke of the dieta in terms of asceticism as they understood it from a religious perspective, which they posited in terms of discipline, virtuous living and morality (see also below for the Temple’s emphasis on this aspect when dieting in preparation for a workshop). Gow (1996: 95), Jaureguia et al. (2011: 742), and Brabec de Mori (2009: 138), however, state that these practices are integral to producing a necessary transformation in the shaman. Gow (1996: 95) indicates that the plant spirits have a ‘dislike for humans’ and ‘abhor human sexuality and its odors’. In order to entice the spirits, therefore, a shaman must ‘convert himself into a plant-like being’ (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 138). Gow (1996: 95) says that is only by becoming ‘partly a spirit’ and refraining from practices that are ‘offensive’ to the plants that it is possible for relationships to develop.

73 flowers and other treasures, and introduce them to elemental spirits—of volcanoes, the wind, of lightening, or of animals—who can work with them, protect them, and instruct them on specific techniques that can be used in their work (Maestro Rogelio).

The dieta, then, is foundational to both the acquisition of the necessary skills required by an Onanya and also to prepare them, personally, to be able to carry out their work across multiple realms. Because of its effect on the body, the dieta can therefore also be utilised to support the patient, both as a preparatory tool and to encourage healing.

OTHER APPLICATIONS OF THE DIETA

In preparation for their ceremonies at the Temple, visitors are sent an extensive document regarding how to prepare for their workshops. In it they are asked to follow a specific diet for about two weeks prior to their arrival. The document states that the diet is:

one of the most important aspects of working with Ayahuasca … to prepare the body and nervous systems for the powerful knowledge and expansion of consciousness given by Ayahuasca and to incorporate the healing energy of the medicine. This diet also shows Mother Ayahuasca your intention, and is a test of discipline and commitment (Temple of the Way of Light, 2010b: 1).

The diet requires abstinence from salt, sugar, oil, spices, red meat, over-ripe or fermented foods, processed and smoked meats, canned goods, caffeine, and the use of synthetic personal hygiene products. There is a particular emphasis on abstinence from pork, recreational drugs, and sex. While these restrictions are widely recognised as constituting a ‘typical’ ayahuasca preparation diet across the globe, it appears that this particular manifestation of the practice has emerged from a blend of syncretic approaches to ayahuasca. Earlier, I cited Maestro Rogelio who explained how the fundamental reason for the diet restrictions during a plant dieta was because the plants FIGURE 12: A TYPICAL LUNCH AT THE TEMPLE essentially do not exist well in the same environment with certain other products. In the case of sugar, salt and oil, he said, they will kill the plants. Regarding pork, recreational drugs, and sex, his explanation was simply that ‘the

74 plants don’t like them.’ When asked about the notion of discipline, he told me that, rather than being sidetracked by pleasurable activities, it was important to focus only on the medicine during the period of a dieta. Additionally, he said that emotional discipline was central; that if a dieter did not give the medicine ‘only happiness’, they could potentially develop into a brujo. In the document created by the Temple, the preparatory diet focuses on the latter aspect, posited in terms reminiscent of asceticism and abstinence. Its purpose, they say, is to prepare—indeed, strengthen—the body and spirit for potentially powerful transformations through the acts of physical purification and mental, emotional, and spiritual practices that ‘test discipline and commitment.’

The addition of substances such as over-ripe and fermented foods, processed and smoked meats, etc.—foods rich in the amino acid, tyramine that are generally not central to the Shipibo diet in any case—appear to be included based on Western medical advice.99 The Temple’s (2010b: 1) document states that these restrictions were established due to ‘potential health risks’. Emerging evidence from the medical and scientific fields, however, indicates that these concerns represent a ‘common misconception’ in association with ayahuasca:

[T]here is no in vitro or other empirical evidence to support the current cultural myth that consumption of Ayahuasca in conjunction with tyramine-rich foods can, in and of itself, lead to a hypertensive crisis (Mishor et al., 2011: 103).

Even so, the ideal of purification—as evidenced in the advice that no synthetic products be applied to the body—lingers within these recommendations. The other reason that certain substances are presented as contraindications to ayahuasca and plant medicine practices in the preparatory dieta—particularly sex, pork and recreational drugs—is that their energy is so strong. Due to this, the Temple says, they ‘may cause cutipado [Span.: ‘cold’], or in other words interfere with the plant’s energy and provoke unwanted reactions’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2010a: 1). Additionally, they provide a long list of pharmaceutical drugs, recreational drugs, and herbal medicines that, based on medical advice, they state are ‘potentially dangerous’ when combined with the MAOIs present in ayahuasca (Temple of the Way of Light, 2010a).100

99 Tyramine is ‘an amino acid that helps regulate blood pressure’ and monoamine oxidase (MAO) acts to break down excesses of tyramine in the body (Hall-Flavin, 2016). MAO inhibitors (MAOIs)—key components of the ayahuasca brew (see Chapter 1)—are used in some antidepressant medications. Medical information suggests that their action to inhibit MAOs when tyramine-containing foods have been ingested, may result in too much tyramine in the body, which can lead to hypertensive crisis: a rapid spike in blood pressure. See Hall-Flavin (2016), NIH (2011) and Nutrition Education Materials Online [NEMO] (2016) for information on this and on the low tyramine diet. 100 The Temple document on drugs and medications is taken from Ayahuasca Forums (2007).

75 Long-term visitors to the Temple sometimes incorporate another use of the dieta into their stays, this time with a focus on healing. In these instances, ‘healing dietas’ are carried out in much the same way as a ‘teaching dieta’ undertaken by an apprentice. A maestro determines which plant or plants are required to support certain outcomes—be they physical, mental, emotional, social, or spiritual—and opens and closes the dietas in a similar way to that described above, within ceremony. Similarly to the teaching dieta, the person undergoing this process is connected with the yoshin of the plant. The main purpose, however, is to attain its healing properties. While some people choose to go into isolation in a tambo on the Temple grounds and to follow strict dietary guidelines in order to replicate traditional practices and enhance the learning aspect of their dietas, it is also common for staff and others working at the Temple to partake in ‘working dietas’ in which their daily lives continue much as normal, albeit with enhanced focus on contemplation and restricted social interaction.

A more lenient form of the dieta is also generally recommended after a workshop has been completed (see below).

TECHNIQUES OF HEALING

In addition to dietary guidelines and restrictions, the maestr@s learn a variety of techniques to facilitate and enhance their work, both within and outside of ceremonies. Some of these are taught to them by their own maestro while others are learned directly from the plant spirits.

The fundamental basis of healing in Shipibo plant spirit healing is the development of strong, established relationships between the Onanya and the world of elemental spirits. Effective forms of ‘medicine’ within this context are heavily reliant on the power of a plant’s yoshin and the processes required to interpret and then apply that power to a patient to effect cleansing and healing. While this can be done through physical ingestion or application of a plant preparation, in- or onto a patient’s body, the healing power of the plants can also be ‘injected’ into the patient through means more akin to energetic medicine practices in the context of Western ontologies. Following are some of the predominant techniques used by the maestr@s.

IKAROS

The main approach of the Onanya to remove negative energies is energy medicine that comes in the form of song – ikaros. Sound is a form of energy frequency (vibration) through which communication and healing can take place. … The Onanya explain that all plants have their own songs and these songs, the ikaros, are taught to the healer during dietas. Temple of the Way of Light (2017j)

76 Ikaros (also spelt: icaros) are ‘[t]he songs of the plants’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017n) and act as ‘the communicative element between the singer, the yoshin and the patient’ (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 139). They are integral to any ayahuasca ceremony as a primary method of ‘dispensing’ medicine to a patient. The Temple website (2017j) states that the ikaros ‘form the backbone of the energy work during ceremonies’. Describing their activity, Brabec de Mori (2009: 135) explains: ‘In the Shipibo-Conibo language exists the term bewan tsakata’ which means ‘pierced by the song’. He says that ‘[a]s Shipibo self-understanding takes this effect as granted and natural, local indigenous people do not have any difficulties in explaining it’ (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 135). Within Temple articulations, additional discourses emergent from quantum physics and Eastern mysticism were commonly utilised to convey descriptions of the process of injecting sound and intention into physical matter to manipulate it in ways that manifest as health outcomes.101 As can be seen in the quote at the beginning of this section, this often references the notions of ‘energies’ and ‘frequencies’. Temple facilitators explain that through their songs, an Onanya channels the healing energy (i.e. the ‘vibration’ or yoshin) of the plants, infusing the sound with their own focused intention, and guiding the ocular vibrations into the energy field of the patient. This is done to eradicate unwanted pathogens, restore strength and uniformity, and to inject specific beneficial vibrational elements into the patient’s energy field. In this way, plant medicine is applied.

Ikaros may be learned directly from an apprentice’s maestro, can be passed from one Onanya to another, or may be transmitted to an Onanya within dieta from the spirit world (see Jaureguia et al., 2011: 743; Luna, 1984b: 127), in which case they are recognised in terms of sacred knowledge (Lewis, 2008: 124).

Regarding the relationship between the plants, the ikaros and the healing event, the Temple website (2017n) states that:

A curandero in ceremony will be sung to by the plant spirits and act as a conduit for the spirits to transmit their songs. It is the plant spirits who are carrying out healing on the patient, not the curandero (emphasis in original).

While there are many references to the ikaro as a vehicle for the transmission of healing energy, this particular representation—positioning the plant as the primary agent, and the healer as only a conduit—is not one I have been able to source in the literature. Authors more commonly indicate that purpose of the ikaros is to summon or subdue the plant spirits, and/or as a form of communication between the healer and the spirits (e.g. Beyer, 2009; Brabec de Mori, 2012b;

101 See Chapter 7.

77 Fotiou, 2014; Jaureguia et al., 2011). Gow (1996: 95) insists that due to the plant spirits’ dislike of the human scent, a shaman must utilise the ikaros to seduce the spirits, attracting them with ‘the compulsive beauty of the curing songs’. Fotiou (2014: 19) reports that one ayahuasquero in Iquitos told her ‘the icaros come from inside the body of the shaman’. In order to clarify the relationship between the ikaros and agency, I turned to an online forum of ayahuasca researchers. Carlos Suárez Álvarez (see Álvarez, 2015) advised that he was consistently told by local curanderos in Iquitos that they effectively acted as ‘radios’ or ‘tools by the spirits’, sometimes unable to remember the ikaros they sang during ceremony. Martin Fortier (personal communication) posited descriptions of the shaman as a ‘radio’ in terms of metaphor. Comparing them to Arnaud Halloy’s account of possession in Xangô shamanism where the possessed maintains virtually no agency (see Fortier, 2017), the Shipibo, he says, remain instrumental in choosing, calling and intentionally applying the plant spirits and their healing capacity. Based on her own doctoral research and personal experiences, Sarah Sophia (personal communication) suggested that ‘there is a degree of truth in all’ of these representations. The curandero, she says ‘serves as an Instrument, Conduit or Channel; a Co-Creative Agent working in conjunction with the Intelligence of the (Plant) Spirits; and as a Marshal, Orchestrator or Commander of the Spirits.’ Each of the researchers involved in the discussion ultimately concurred that, dependent on the predisposition of the curandero and on the level of ‘absorption’ they are experiencing within the healing event, the relative agency of the curandero and the plant spirits can be variable. The centrality of the relationship between them and the necessity of the ikaro as a tool of medicine application, however, was not disputed.

In relation to the patient, Brabec de Mori (2012b: 270-1) states that ikaros are used both to cure and to protect—to ‘scar[e] away negative influences ... or fight enemy healers or sorcerers’ depending on the conditions present in the patient and the resultant intentions of the Onanya (and/or the plant spirits). Both within and outside of ceremony, ikaros are sung or whistled over plant medicine preparations, perfumes or floral waters, cigarettes and pipes to ‘charge’ them with the medicine that will be applied.102 They can also be used ‘to modulate the visions induced by ayahuasca’ (Beyer, 2009: 66), calming or intensifying them as required. Brabec de Mori (2009: 133) notes that during ayahuasca sessions, the ikaros become more complex and are often sung at pitches that cannot be attained in a ‘sober’ state. The distinctive high-pitched sound is ‘perceived by the Shipibo-Conibo as a sign that the singer is in contact with powerful

102 In Shipibo, this is called koxonti, meaning ‘to charge’ (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 131). Brabec de Mori (2009: 131) also proffers an alternative translation, suggesting that singing and blowing melodies into objects is a form of ‘en-chanting’ them.

78 yoshin’ (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 133). At the Temple, where up to seven maestr@s may be working independently within a ceremony, the cacophony of sound they produce can be intense.

The rhythm, melodies, and words of ikaros that I had been informed had come from the same plants were sung quite differently from one maestr@ to another. A Western founder of one of the local NGOs who has worked closely with Shipibo communities for many years and dieted plants with various maestros explained that, based on his experience with both Shipibo and Western dieters, he believed it was a misunderstanding to suggest that a plant would only inspire one ikaro to represent itself. Some plants, he said, have hundreds of ikaros. He said that each individual will interpret what they perceive during a dieta differently, depending on their own cultural and personal beliefs and understandings. Brabec de Mori (2009: 132) echoes these observations, noting that ‘healer-sorcerers’ do not share the same melodies, but rather perform in their own compositional and improvisational style. He states also that they will change the words of the ikaros to reflect the current conditions and requirements, often describing ‘in a very illustrative way’ what they are doing through their songs (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 135).103 Ikaros, in these interpretations, ultimately represent a form of energetic medicine, the production and application of which are recognised as co-creations between the plant spirits and the Onanya.

KENÉ

Shipibo patterns (kene [sic]) depict the sacred healing energies that emanate from the plants. They can be seen as the codes of the ikaros that express their healing energies and are seen by the Onanya in their visions. The patterns on Shipibo art are two-dimensional renderings of these energies … The Onanya “see the songs” and “hear the designs” at the same time in a phenomenon known as synesthesia – the blending of the senses. Temple of the Way of Light (2017o).

The kené patterns are an integral part of the Shipibo cosmology. According to Odland and Feldman (2010: 1), the Shipibo describe them as being ‘like the paths of life, or roads, or the meanders of the rivers where they live’. Sometimes, they say, ‘they are the patterns and movement of the anaconda or of Ronin the cosmic serpent’ (Odland and Feldman, 2010: 1-2). The patterns were traditionally applied to the external walls of homes, to artefacts, and onto the

103 Ethnomusicologist Brabec de Mori (2009: 133), states that not all songs used in ‘curing sessions’ are ‘curing songs’. Ikaros, the most complex of the songs, are only one style of song that may be applied, he says. Others include songs that attract love or bind relationships (Sh: warmikara) and songs otherwise used in community celebrations (Sh: mashá and bewá).

79 body as visual displays of protection and power. Presently, they are widely recognised in many parts of the world as synonymous with ayahuasca healing.

It is common to hear throughout ayahuasca circles, both inside and outside of Peru, that during a dieta, the Onanya will learn how to see and work with kené, which represent the graphic depiction of the ikaros that are in turn sonic representations of the plants. Beyer (2008) writes: ‘When this design floats down and touches the shaman’s lips it becomes transformed into a song the shaman sings.’ At the Temple, I similarly heard facilitators and pasajeros discuss their understanding that during a healing session, when a maestr@ sings their ikaro, the sound itself is the sonic manifestation of the kené of the plants (i.e. the medicine) being woven into the kené of the patient in order to affect healing. In this discourse, music, art and medicine are presented as direct synaesthetic representations of each other, all recognised in terms of energetic medicine.104 While this understanding of the basic healing mechanisms used within ceremony is becoming increasingly accepted, researchers such as Brabec de Mori and Mori Silvano de Brabec suggest that it is, at least in part, an example of Shipibo cosmology that has ebeen misinterpreted by Westerners (see Brabec de Mori, 2012b for an overview). While they

FIGURE 13: HAND-WOVEN AND DRAWN KENÉ PATTERNS, SHIPIBO MARKETS, MAIN MALOKA

104 Synaesthesia is the phenomenal experience of a Union of the Senses (Cytowic, 2002) in which sounds may be seen, sights tasted, colours heard, etc. Reports of these phenomena within psychedelic experiences are widely referenced throughout academic literature (e.g. Dobkin de Rios, 2009; Fotiou, 2010; Gearin, 2014; McKenna and Ely, 1993; Shanon, 2010a).

80 acknowledge that kené patterns are an important part of Shipibo cosmology, that they can represent individual health, that they may become visible to a healer in an ayahuasca ceremony, and that the ikaros can be effectively ‘woven’ into the patient to realign their kené patterns, these researchers contest the claims that the kené patterns ‘originated’ from ayahuasca visions as representions of the plants or the ikaros.

In a proliferation of publications, Brabec de Mori and Mori Silvano de Brabec (see Brabec de Mori, 2012b for overview) assert that these theories are historically unfounded, being a relatively recent simplification of a complex cultural interface that was posited by German anthropologist, Angelika Gebhart-Sayer (1985), who was herself largely informed by Shipibo artist and healer, Doña Herlinda Agustín.105 Brabec de Mori (2012b: 272) states that the theories originally emerged from a misunderstanding of metaphor, but that the idea of patterns as ‘singable designs’ became so popular that this interpretation has been increasingly adopted in a mutually agreeable representation of ‘authenticity’.

While many popular descriptions of ayahuasca ceremonies incorporate the idea that: ‘[male] Shamans, who plunged into the world of forms and colors opened by the Ayahuasca, returned from their travels with beautiful and refined designs for craftswomen to translate into their craft’ (Nii Juinti, 2017), Brabec de Mori and Mori Silvano de Brabec (2009a, 2009b) assert that the kené are more likely to have been taught to the Shipibo by the highly respected Inca, prior to the incorporation of ayahuasca into the Shipibo medicine system, and that they were (and continue to be) created exclusively by the women. Belaunde (2012), Roe (1982), and depictions in the movie Shipibo: The Movie of our Memories (Feldman and Odland, 2011), similarly suggest that the art is taught by mothers to their daughters. The patterns, they indicate, are representations of aesthetic beauty and ethnic identity, often inspired by nature with no consistent symbolism or meaning other than that given by an individual (female) artist.106,107 Recognised as an example of questionable historical representation, where ‘“[t]raditions” which appear or claim to be old are often quite recent in origin and sometimes invented’ (Hobsbawm in Hobsbawm and Ranger,

105 A documentary showing Doña Herlinda Agustín ‘singing the designs’ can be viewed online (see Relizaciòn Colectivo Aents, 2007). 106 As a Shipibo woman herself, Mori Silvano de Brabec (in Brabec de Mori and Mori Silvano de Brabec, 2009a: 128) felt it was important to state that the increasingly common assertion that the Shipibo are no longer able to identify the songs by the designs is an indication that they have lost touch with their cultural heritage, is incorrect and humiliating. The current ‘tradition’ is a very recent one, she says, which the Shipibo are learning in parallel with foreigners. 107 This is consistent with my own experience of the kené patterns throughout various Shipibo markets. At the Temple, the maestr@s would avoid ‘singing patterns’ if asked, while in the local markets of Iquitos and Pucallpa, the application of plant names and songs to the designs was markedly different from one artisan to the next.

81 1983: 1), ‘history’ in this sense, becomes ‘a moving target depending on the demands of the present’ (Hirsch and Stewart, 2005: 262). Aligning with Hirsch and Stewart’s (2005: 269) representation of ‘historicity’, this particular reference to Shipibo ontology has become a temporal ‘fusion of past, present and future’ permeated by syncretism. The Shipibo, says Brabec de Mori, ‘live’ this now as if it is an indisputable part of their history: ‘Everybody wins if the “tradition” is as modern as possible’ (Brabec de Mori, 2012b: 275).

While Brabec de Mori and Mori Silvano de Brabec (2009a: 119) reject the notion that the kené patterns are visual representations of the plants or the ikaros, they recognise that the kené remain important in the ayahuasca-healing complex. It is unsurprising, they say, that many healers see them within ceremony due to the fact that they are a culturally informed visual aesthetic of beauty, which is held in esteem as a representation of health and harmonious relations. It remains that the rectification of distorted energy flow in the patient—which may be represented by visual patterns—is central to the efficacy of Shipibo ayahuasca healing, as does the recognition that this work is done through the injection of sound and intention via the ikaros, as well as through the techniques that follow.

SOPLAR

Soplar means ‘to blow’ (Span.). The soplar is another of the important techniques used both within and outside of ceremony, utilised to both infuse further medicine into the patient and to protect the medicine that has been applied. Usually this is performed using either agua de florida (floral water or perfume) or mapacho (tobacco) smoke that has been ‘charged’ with intention by the Onanya through the singing or whistling of ikaros into the substance (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 131).108 Once the substance is charged, it is taken into the mouth and then blown over the pasajero.

The water or smoke, then, is comprised of the FIGURE 14: A GIFT TO PASAJEROS: MAESTRAS SOPLAR PIECES OF AYAHUASCA WITH TOBACCO physical element—the flowers and tobacco (MAPACHO) SMOKE

108 The agua de florida now commonly used in Amazonian ayahuasca shamanism is usually a synthetically produced perfume in an alcohol base, rather than a natural floral water.

82 themselves utilised for their healing properties—the infused power of the ikaro, and the intention (and likely some bodily fluids) of the Onanya before it is applied to the patient.

The charged water or smoke is most often blown into the palms of the patient’s hands or into the crown of their head (although it is sometimes blown over the patient in their entirety). Within the context of ceremony, this practice is most often observed at the end of a pasajero’s healing session to ‘seal in’ the medicine that has been applied through the ikaros that were sung to them. As I will discuss below, this is an important part of the healing process for the Shipibo, helping to ensure that the medicine remains into the body in the liminal phase before it is completely incorporated, and also that it is not stolen by a brujo.

CHUPAR

Chupar means ‘to suck’ (Span.). This technique is used to extract obstinate blockages that are not responding effectively to the ikaros. Before performing a chupar, the Onanya must first protect themselves from the energy that they are removing from their patient. They do this by either taking agua de florida into their mouths, or sometimes by ‘swallowing’ mapacho smoke in order to bring the ‘phlegm’ that they develop in their dietas from their stomach or chest into their throat.109 The Temple website (2017n) states that this ‘plant phlegm .... grows in the stomach but only after many years of dieting’ and that it is ‘considered the “power” that a curandero carries or is gifted to him/her by the plants.’ Beyer (2009: 210) states that it is used as a ‘defense against magical attack’ and that it acts as ‘a container for the magic darts [virote in Spanish] that are the shaman’s principal weapon.’

When the Onanya is performing a chupar, they will physically suck on the patient’s body in the location of the blockage or virote. Unlike the shamanic techniques described by Lévi-Strauss (1966c: 202-3) and Jackson (1983b: 130) that involve the production of a physical substance like a ‘bloody worm’ to represent the sickness, the Shipibo recognise the blockage as a non- physical entity which, although physically sucked out, cannot be seen in material form. The ‘energetic’ blockage must be taken into their physical body, however, at which time they must spit it out or purge it into a bowl in order not to take the sickness into themselves. Again it becomes apparent, that in this form of plant spirit medicine, the material and spirit worlds are intimately intermingled—managed and manipulated through physical means, but often existent beyond the perception of ordinary consciousness.

109 Brabec de Mori (2009: 131) states that a ‘sucking specialist’ is called a yobé in Shipibo and that the phlegm is called kenyon. The Temple website refers to the phlegm as mariri or yachi (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017n).

83 AYAHUASCA AT THE TEMPLE

While the home page on their website presents the Temple’s offerings as ‘Traditional Plant Spirit Shamanism’, this heading is preceded by another: ‘Pioneering Ayahuasca Healing Center in the Peruvian Amazon’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017m). As described in Chapter 2, this focus on ‘pioneering’ a medicine system applicable to a global population is foundational to the specific (re)production of traditional healing at the Temple. Consequently it now forms part of what Labate et al. (2014: 3) refer to more broadly as an Expansion and Reinvention of Tradition. In this section, I will outline some of the adaptations that are emerging in the Temple’s presentation of Shipibo shamanism.

110 DESCRIPTION OF A TEMPLE CEREMONY

The maloka is a space that provides a pertinent metaphor for the ayahuasca ceremony—a symbolic representation of the interaction between nature and human utilisation of natural resources. There are no solid walls in the main maloka at the Temple, with the entire expanse of the sides—including the three doors—covered in mosquito netting. This enables guests to view the surrounding gardens and the small swimming reservoir located just outside, while also allowing for a relatively uninhibited experience of the jungle atmosphere and soundscape during ceremonies. A thick central timber pole supports an elaborate structure of timber beams that underlie an expansive thatched palm-leaf roof.

Inside the main maloka, outside of ceremony times, tall piles of foam mattresses, pillows, some moulded plastic chairs with the legs cut off, as well as various timber tables are located around the perimeter. Nearest the door that leads to the bathrooms connected just outside, a small table holds an elaborate water filter, toilet rolls and a stack of glass ashtrays.111 On another, longer table, located on the opposite side of the maloka, elements akin to a haphazard shrine of sorts can be found. Three sizes of shot-sized glasses for use in ceremony are also kept there. On a third table stands a large painting created by Temple co-founder, Klara, depicting symbols reminiscent of Sanskrit. These symbols are described on the website from which she sells her

110 Just like the experience of drinking ayahuasca, each ceremony is unique. This description provides a general overview of the structure of a ceremony. While there are some variations between the ceremonies held in the different malokas at the Temple, I will focus on the style of ceremony held in Centre 1. This was where the ceremony structure originally developed and is the one that the majority of visitors experience. The structure of the smaller ceremonies in Centres 2 and 3 also emerged from this foundation. 111 There were several water filters donated to the Temple by a previous guest. While we were told that the water from the streams has been tested and is considered very clean, the water filter was embraced for the purpose of alkalising the slightly acidic stream water.

84 paintings as ‘a visual language that is a mirror of my spiritual experience and state of being’ (Soukalova, 2015).

For each workshop, a facilitator and assistant facilitator are appointed to the group, most often one male and one female. Facilitators have generally had extensive personal experience with ayahuasca and plant medicines, often having attended hundreds of ceremonies and participated in numerous plant dietas. They are fluent in English and at least one is required to speak Spanish, as one of their main responsibilities is to act as a mediator and translator between predominantly English-speaking pasajeros and the maestr@s. Only some maestr@s speak Spanish, and none speak English. Facilitators are the main point of contact for pasajeros. They lead all of the information sessions and group meetings, and maintain close contact with pasajeros throughout the workshop in order to retain intimate knowledge of how their experiences in ceremonies are unfolding. This is both to ascertain where adaptations to the dosages of ayahuasca administered might be required for pending ceremonies, as well as supporting them with inevitable queries and periodic difficulties. Additionally, facilitators manage the ceremonies and the maestr@s within the ceremony space. This includes making the decision on how much ayahuasca a pasajero will receive each night, where the maestr@s will be positioned around the circle of pasajeros to start the healing sessions, and the administration of additional doses of ayahuasca to pasajeros where they deem it appropriate. Unlike ceremonies held in Shipibo communities—which are entirely managed by the maestr@— talking, singing, speaking with the maestr@, and indulging loud expressions of emotion are strongly discouraged; at the Temple, the focus is on the participants’ internal experiences. A strong ethic of respect and care not to disturb the experiences of other ceremony participants is established in the introductory meetings.

Ayahuasca sessions are invariably held at night at the Temple.112 In the introductory meeting on the morning before the first ceremony, pasajeros are advised by the group facilitator to eat a normal breakfast and to eat lightly at lunchtime, which should be the last food for the day. Facilitator, Alejandro, stated: ‘food is very grounding. Be careful not to sabotage your experience by gorging.’ The food available at the Temple is prepared in compliance with the ‘ayahuasca diet’. If a pasajero becomes particularly hungry after lunch, they are advised that while it is not encouraged, it is not usually problematic to eat lightly up until 3pm. Good

112 No official explanation was provided for this, however it was generally stated by pasajeros at the Temple that sessions are held at night as ayahuasca causes light sensitivity. Staff were likely to state simply that this is how the maestr@s do it. In an interview with Maestro Julius, I was told that they almost never drank ayahuasca through the day, but if they did, it would be done in isolation, as there are too many energies around during daylight hours.

85 hydration is encouraged throughout the day, but it is also suggested that water is not consumed after 5pm. This is not framed as a ritual of discipline or austerity but rather to ensure that there has been enough time for food to be digested. As Alejandro commented: ‘It won’t taste nearly as good coming back up’. Cessation of water consumption is encouraged to minimise the possibility that one might need to disturb their experience within the ceremony in order to urinate.

The maloka was set up during the afternoon before a ceremony, usually by the Work Exchange participant who would be ‘working on the door’ when the ceremony was taking place (see Chapter 1). In a typical ceremony in Centre 1, there were 22 mats set up for pasajeros around the perimeter of the maloka, facing toward the centre. Each person in ceremony at the Temple was given two foam mats, stacked on top of each other and covered by a newly laundered fitted sheet. This was a comfort—indeed a luxury—that I did not experience in any other environment that I visited in ceremonies in and around Iquitos and Pucallpa. It was far FIGURE 15: MALOKA 1 PREPARED FOR CEREMONY more common outside of the Temple to encounter a single, thin and sometimes rather stained foam mattress that lay bare and occasionally disintegrating on the floor. A space of approximately one to two metres was left on the outside of the circle of mats which the ‘door person’ and pasajeros were required to use to move about if necessary. With six or seven maestr@s and two facilitators working in the centre of the circle, Temple staff found it to be particularly chaotic when pasajeros attempted to navigate through this space, a practice that was more usual outside of the Temple.

Placed alongside each mattress was a glass ashtray for the use of mapacho, the only tobacco allowed into the maloka, as well as a large plastic bowl used for purging. Moulded plastic chairs with the legs cut off were also scattered around the edge of the maloka for use by pasajeros who found this a more comfortable option than sitting unaided on their mats. Through the centre of the maloka, eight to ten foam mat ensembles—depending on the number of maestr@s and staff expected to attend the ceremony—were laid out, head to head, in two straight rows of either four or five, also accompanied by an ashtray and purge bowl. Rolls of toilet paper were also placed by each of the mattresses in the maloka.

86 There were usually more maestras than maestros in the ceremonies although the mix was dependent on the number available at any given time. A standard combination during my time there would include four maestras positioned in one row, sometimes with a guest or staff member taking the fifth position, and two or three maestros would be positioned along the other row, next to whom two facilitators, most often one female and one male, would be based. In addition to the Work Exchange door person, there was also a local Peruvian staff member who sat outside of the maloka, at the base of the stairs that led to the toilets. This person—always male—would assist pasajeros to and from the bathrooms, ensure that the cleanliness of the compost toilets and cubicles was maintained and that outside lanterns remained lit, and he would also supervise any pasajeros who chose to sit outside at any time during the ceremonies.

All attendees were asked to arrive at the maloka approximately half an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin at 8pm. On some nights, a yin yoga class—another offering at the Temple rarely offered in other centres at the time—would be held in the hour leading up to this but generally this time was used for settling and quiet contemplation. The maloka would be lit with approximately six lanterns. Pasajeros were asked to bring a pillow and blanket FIGURE 16: MAESTRO'S AYAHUASCA, PURGE BUCKET AND ROLLS OF MAPACHO to their mats for comfort. Each was also issued with CIGARETTES a bottle of pusanga, a floral water infused by plants that was placed at the head of the mat to effectively ‘absorb’ the specific medicine of the ikaros given to them during ceremonies. They were encouraged to regularly apply the (increasingly personalised) pusanga to their bodies after the workshop to continue the application of this medicine. It was also useful, they were told, as both an attractant of benevolent energies and as a protection from malevolent ones, including brujos, who might try to steal the medicine they carry.113

113 Charing et al. (2011: 175) indicate that pusanga is most often considered a ‘love medicine’ in the Amazon, used to attract a sexual partner, and has historically been infused with animal parts (e.g ‘the sexual organs of dolphins’) for this purpose. At the Temple, it was more broadly used for the ongoing application of energetic medicine. Because the (energetic) medicine in the pusanga was personalised via the specific ikaros given to the pasajero by the maestr@s, they were advised not to share it.

87 Prior to some ceremonies, upon their arrival into the maloka, one of the maestras would take two bottles of agua de florida and splash them over the timber floorboards both inside and outside of the circle of pasajeros. During this time, one of the maestros would open a two-litre plastic soft drink bottle that contained the ayahuasca brew and ‘charge’ it by quietly whistling an ikaro into the top of the bottle as well as blowing mapacho into the medicine.114 It was usually one of the maestros who would bring the ayahuasca into ceremony and prepare it.

As noted in Chapter 2, the fact that Matthew had initially invited so many Shipibo maestr@s to work at the one time had a notable effect on the logistical operation of the ceremonies. Where it is common for the Onanya to go to the patient in a Shipibo ceremony to administer ayahuasca— at least in the current context when the patient also drinks—pasajeros at the Temple during the first half of my fieldwork were instead called into the centre of the circle for this purpose. The logistics, however, then changed. At the beginning of my stay, seven pasajeros would be called at a time to sit in front of the group facilitator and a maestra who would pour the medicine. After the medicine was poured for all seven, the facilitator would advise that they could drink, which they did together.115 The final decision on the amount of ayahuasca that the pasajero would receive rested with the facilitator who would advise the maestra seated next to them on how much to pour. The maestra—always a female at that time—would subsequently pour the medicine, which was handed to the pasajero by the facilitator. After some impassioned feedback regarding inauthenticity from a Work Exchange participant who had experienced ayahuasca ceremonies in Ecuador, Colombia, and with Shipibo shamans outside of the Temple in Peru, this practice was adapted to more closely reflect localised practices. By the time of my departure, each pasajero was asked to approach the centre of the room individually. Pasajeros on one side of the maloka had their medicine administered by a maestra, while on the other side a maestro served the medicine. While the facilitators no longer handled the medicine physically, they still advised the dosages. I was advised this was both because the facilitators had more direct contact with the pasajeros regarding their ongoing experiences, and because not all maestr@s were used to dispensing medicine to their patients.

114 Brabec de Mori (2009: 132) notes that while the Shipibo medicine system now often incorporates the Christian God as a powerful ally (an element that was excluded from Temple ceremonies in order to create an environment in which all spiritual beliefs could be incorporated by the pasajero), the ‘prayer’ is rarely used, as ‘spoken words with magical activity … are considered specifically dangerous and evil.’ For this reason, song and melody (e.g. ikaros) are used instead (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 131). 115 While it was rarely discussed with pasajeros, the maestr@s and facilitators would glance away, not watching others drinking the ayahuasca. I was told by a facilitator that this was a mark of respect as this initial connection between the medicine and the drinker was a private (sacred) and energetically vulnerable moment.

88 Once the pasajeros had received their ayahuasca, the maestr@s and facilitators would pour and drink their own. The facilitators generally had just a small amount to facilitate connection with the plant spirits and the overall energy in the ceremony. It was commonly noted by pasajeros that the maestr@s also drank very little medicine. The explanation given for this by facilitators was that they are so sensitised to ayahuasca through their decades of practice that they require only very little in order to connect with the plant spirit realm.116

On some occasions, the maestras in particular could be seen to shiver as they drank their medicine. While this reaction became familiar to participants over the term of their seven ceremonies—a response that was attributed to the increasing difficulty they had in keeping the medicine down—it caused surprise when witnessed in those so accustomed to the experience. The taste of the medicine, widely described as ‘bitter’ and ‘oily’, was often described by pasajeros as surprisingly palatable for the first couple of ceremonies, but inevitably became more offensive to the taste with more experience of it. This regularly resulted in people gagging and experiencing a violent shiver through the body, sometimes even just at the thought of drinking it again.117

After all participants had consumed the ayahuasca, the lanterns were extinguished and the room would remain relatively silent for anywhere between about 40 minutes and one hour until the effect of the medicine, the mareación, was initially perceived by the maestr@s. At this time, they would begin to sing an ikaro to call their plant allies into the room. Some facilitators, and also some—albeit few—pasajeros who could ‘see’ in this altered state of consciousness, would describe how the maloka would fill with plant spirits.118 Once this was achieved, the facilitators guided each maestr@ to a mat to begin their rounds of healing, their starting place in the circle decided intuitively by the facilitators each night.

The work that the maestr@s engaged in at this point was often not easily detectable or understood by pasajeros. Descriptions, however, were usually given to the group during their

116 As discussed in Chapter 1, Brabec de Mori (2014: 221) remarked that many of the Shipibo considered Westerners ‘drogadictos’ (drug addicts) based on both their desire to drink the medicine in the first place, and also on the relatively large doses they consumed. It was common to see the maestras giggling, shaking their heads, and even sometimes looking aghast at the large dosages handed to some participants. 117 There were various theories on why this occurred. Many people posited that it was an involuntary display of apprehension of the unknown element in the experience that was to come after ingestion of the ayahuasca, while others suggested it was a somatic response the knowledge of what would likely follow. One facilitator, Mandi, suggested that the strongly unpalatable taste was the plant’s way of testing the resolve of the participant: ‘If you’re not strong enough to manage the taste and keep the medicine down, how will you have the strength to manage the experience?’ 118 The spirits appear in many shapes, sizes, colours and configurations. The spirit of the tree, Ayahuma, for example, is often described as an 8-foot tall male with his face in his chest.

89 preparation meetings on the morning before their first ceremony. Some slight variations occurred depending on the facilitator presenting the information but it was generally advised that when the maestr@s would sit on the floor in a cross-legged position in front the pasajero, their first task was to scan the pasajero’s now-visible yora kené (body patterns) to determine where they were broken, bent, constricted, faded, gaping, or in any other way lacking in proper integrity. During this time they would often smoke a mapacho cigarette or pipe, calling in their plant allies and taking advice regarding the best way to proceed. Subsequently, on the advice of their plant spirit allies, the maestr@s would sing the appropriate ikaro, weaving their song through the patterns of the pasajero in order to affect the reparation that was required. This, the pasajeros were told, would effectively guide recalcitrant energies into the pasajero’s digestive system so that they could be eliminated through purging, commonly through the act of vomiting and/or diarrhoea. Purging could also to be experienced as shaking or shivering, feeling hot or cold, a running nose, crying, laughing, groaning, yawning and various other methods for dispelling detritus.

While singing the ikaro, some maestr@s remained relatively still as if in deep meditation, while others were particularly active, waving their arms and sometimes swaying strongly from side to side. In some cases where serious illness was being treated or when recalcitrant energies were not responding well with the ikaro, the maestr@ would perform a chupar. This, however, was rare in the larger ceremonies.

Once the treatment was completed, the maestr@ would generally take the hands of the pasajero, raising them in a cupped position to their mouth, and blow (soplar) agua de florida into the hands and sometimes up the arms. Most maestr@s would then gently guide the pasajeros head forward in order to blow into the crown, while some would blow a spray of agua de florida over the pasajero’s face. This was done to ‘seal the medicine’ into the body. The maestr@ would then shuffle on, in an anti-clockwise direction, to the next pasajero and repeat the process.119

In an interview at the Temple with Maestra Cielo, she described the work they do in ceremony with their patients. She said:

119 I regularly heard laments that the maestr@s appeared tired or disconnected in the ceremonies as they moved from one pasajero to another, singing the same ikaro to each, seemingly without taking time to assess or personalise their approach. When I discussed this with Matthew, he said that although this might sometimes occur, ultimately the medicine will still be effective: ‘If you shine light into the darkness, the darkness will be extinguished.’

90 I look to see how the body is, to see if there is a lot of mal (Spanish for ‘bad’). If we don’t see much we do some cleaning and a short ikaro. If there is a lot, the cleaning is a lot more thorough and we do long ikaros. There are times when people come with a lot of drug use, especially marijuana. They bring with them a cloud.120 This will affect their ability to be in cheer—there will be less laughing, they can be in rage. We clear that out.

In an interview held outside of the Temple, Maestro Rogelio described the process in notably different terms:

Patients always produce different illnesses. Some from the air, some from the water, and some from the dead.121 … So, where is it from? So, there are different kinds of energies, and first, I do the investigation. Because I alone cannot say ‘this is this’. No. First, I do my investigation. That’s where it starts. Then you start to sing. I have to get it out! That’s where the things are. So I have to treat it. And pull out the root [by singing]. But not just in one ceremony. Sometimes, it takes like three ceremonies. Yes, because the roots are very strong. They don’t want to come out easily. When it doesn’t want to come out, well … I have dieted barbasco [plant with a strong poison that are traditionally used to asphyxiate fish in rivers] … So I sing based on my barbasco. This you put on [the root] … I put poison on it. Because the poison means that it has to come out, it is forced to [laughs] … The [plants and elemental spirits] are the ones who heal, who cure. You only see the visions. They are the ones who come when we sing, so we call the spirits. They are the ones who do the treatment. So, based on this, we do the chupar, give them plants to take, like this. Because they inform us: do this to them or that to them. This is how it is done. So, they guide us. Yes, that is how it is, the management of the plants.122

Once the maestr@s had sung to each of the pasajeros in the circle, a process that could take anywhere between three and five hours, the facilitators would assist each of them back to their mats in the centre of the maloka where they would often remain in a seated position and smoke

120 Several facilitators advised me that the maestr@s often commented on the large amount of drug use that they encountered when working with Westerners. Heavy marijuana use in particular, they said, was easy for them to see in ceremony, presenting as a dark cloud. 121 While I never heard this aspect of the Shipibo cosmovision discussed with pasajeros, this Onanya is describing the four worlds within which they work during an ayahuasca ceremony: ‘Non Nete, the extraordinary earth world we live in; Jene Nete, the water world; Jakon Nete, the world where souls go after death; and Panxin Nete, the yellow underworld of evil spirits’ (Hinckle, 2015). 122 It was only during the interviews held outside of the Temple that more warlike descriptions were used to describe the process involved in the healing acts: ‘It’s a fight. Between the witch (brujo), the doctor you are fighting with. Who will win? It’s a fight. So, [I can’t bring in some of my medicine], not into any ceremony. This is … very delicate [laughs]’ (Maestro Rogelio).

91 mapacho. Usually, the room would again dissolve into a quiet stillness at which time the facilitator would intuitively decide to announce the ceremony is closed.123 In their own time, the maestr@s collected their belongings and returned to their casas to retire for the evening. Pasajeros could then decide whether to return to their own tambos or to remain sleeping in the maloka.

The facilitator would decide on how long the Work Exchange door person would remain in the maloka after the end of the ceremony. The effects of the ayahuasca can be unpredictable and can sometimes remain strong even into the morning—indeed, for some pasajeros on some nights, the effect did not ‘come on’ until after the ceremony had ended—so the door person became the point of contact if pasajeros required assistance in any way. They usually remained for around an hour or two after the ceremony, while the local door person stationed outside would often remain for additional time.

The final of the seven ceremonies in a 12-day workshop was focused on the provision of arkanas for the pasajeros. This particular style of ikaro is used to protect the medicine that has been applied throughout the ceremonies, ‘sealing it in’ to prevent it from being pushed or ‘shocked’ from the system, or from being stolen by a brujo. Brabec de Mori (2009: 135) explains that after a local healing ceremony, ‘many patients hold a diet until next day’s noon in order not to disturb the song that “pierced” them.’ Pasajeros are told that a choque (shock) can expel the medicine from the system. They can occur in response to a variety of invasive or strong energies including sexual energy, extreme heat (particularly sun on the crown of the head), extreme cold (including ice cream, ice in drinks, and air conditioning on flights), loud noises, and the use of certain drugs and food (especially pork). While most of the dietary restrictions are relaxed after a workshop, pasajeros are asked to maintain a more lenient dieta, abstaining from pork, recreational drugs and sexual activity for up to two weeks. Additionally, they are advised to protect themselves from extreme environmental conditions as much as possible in order to protect the medicine while it becomes more solidly established within their system.

123 This was usually, but not always the case. On some nights, the activity levels remained high, whether through continued purging, ramifications for the group’s energy when participants had experienced particularly difficult ceremonies, and even through ongoing outbursts of laughter. These tended to be the exception but ceremonies would not be closed until the room had settled.

92 COMPLEMENTARY PRACTICES & MEDICINES

While the majority of visitors attend workshops at the Temple for the primary purpose of working with ayahuasca, they quickly discover that the Shipibo healing system incorporates far more. As the Temple website (2017c) states:

[Ayahuasca] is not the only plant spirit involved. Ayahuasca works with the healer in combination with a plethora of other plant-spirit doctors to provide treatment.

Facilitators often introduce Ayahuasca to groups at the Temple as the ‘Surgeon General’. Pasajeros are, however, introduced to many other ‘doctor-medicines’ through multiple complementary treatments.124

FLORAL BATH

When workshop participants arrive at the Temple—and then daily throughout the duration of their workshops—they are given a floral bath. The maestras prepare large vats of water, which they infuse with a variety of plant materials and colognes that are chosen for their purifying and healing effects, and for their ability to

FIGURE 17: MAESTRAS READY TO PROVIDE FLORAL BATHS attract positive energies. The pasajero sits on a timber bench in their swimwear while a maestra pours the infused water over their head and body. They are instructed to allow the floral water to dry naturally and are encouraged not to otherwise bathe, at least for the first few days, to allow the essence of the plants to be thoroughly absorbed.

Some of the plants that were commonly used for this purpose were: Albaca and Albaquilla (varieties of wild basil) to clean sustos (shocks/traumas), open the heart, and bring in light; Lengua de perro (tongue of the dog) and Piñon colarado, both cleansers; and Rosa cisa (marigold or calendula) and sígueme sígueme (meaning ‘follow me’) for cleansing negative and attracting positive energies.

124 See Appendix 1 for a typical workshop schedule.

93 VOMITIVO

On the first morning after arrival, pasajeros engage in a vomitivo, which facilitators advise is administered for the purpose of deep cleansing, particularly of the energies picked up from the noisy, busy environments of the airports and the city of Iquitos that most pasajeros recently traversed. The vomitivo is also used to initiate a connection with the plants. At the Temple, the plant herba luisa (lemongrass), a plant that ‘blasts light in’, is used in the form of a tea for this purpose. Pasajeros line up along a timber bench, four at a time, and drink a cup of warm lemongrass tea, which they quickly follow with multiple cups of warm water, continuing to drink quickly until their stomachs are so full they vomit. The consumption of warm water and the purging continues—sometimes with the aid of fingers down the throat—until one of the maestras advises that they are finished.125 This usually occurs after copious amounts of liquid are FIGURE 18: MAESTRAS AND GROUP FACILITATOR PREPARE VOMITIVO regurgitated. Facilitator, Alejandro, told me that the maestras observe the colour of the purged liquid and that they can ascertain much information from the length of time it takes for the contents to run clear. Through this observation, they are often able to identify people who are working with substance addictions. For them, this time is often significantly protracted.126

125 This is the only time that manual assistance is encouraged to induce vomiting due to its purpose for cleaning out the physical body. When ayahuasca is consumed, pasajeros are strongly discouraged from forcing themselves to purge. Facilitators explain that the medicine and the body have their own intelligence and purging will occur once the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual lessons, insights, and/or healing necessary from the experience have been attained. 126 When I visited the home of a Shipibo Onanya outside of the Temple, he used the plant pish pish for the vomitivo. After ingesting the brew, we similarly drank warm water until we purged for a brief time. We were then told to return to our tambos where the vomiting would likely continue and might last for several hours (which, for me, it did). After approximately two hours, we were given lemongrass tea to stop the vomiting. I was told that because of the potential dangers of pish pish and other strong plants that induce vomiting in a similar way, they were deemed unsafe to use at the Temple. Only some maestr@s were proficient at administering them.

94 STEAM BATH

For the steam baths, the maestras brew the sacha mango and achote (lipstick tree) plants in large pots of water over their cooking fires, and then place them under a timber bench on which a pasajero is seated, wrapped tightly in a large woollen blanket. The pasajero sweats, absorbing the infusion from the steam. Sacha mango ‘helps to clean heavy and bad energies’ while achote ‘helps to bring good energies’ FIGURE 19: INGREDIENTS FOR A STEAM BATH (Alena, Facilitator).

MASSAGE

The maestr@s sometimes prescribe massages for pasajeros, and administer them daily on thin mattresses laid on the deck of the maestras’ casa. Some maestr@s use macerated ginger for this purpose while others apply commercially produced ‘heat rubs’ that contain ingredients such as camphor. All pasajeros experience at least one massage as part of the workshop schedule when both the maestras and maestros set up mats in the main maloka.

CONSULTATIONS AND REMEDIES

Over the course of the first few days of a workshop, each pasajero has a private consultation attended by all of their maestr@s and facilitators. Some maestr@s only speak Shipibo and some speak both Shipibo and Spanish—none speak English—so the facilitator/s provide translation. During each consultation, the maestr@s confer to discuss which medicines will be given to each participant FIGURE 20: MAESTRA ROSA READY TO DISPENSE throughout the duration of their PLANT MEDICINES workshop. Participants are encouraged not only to advise of their physical and psychological ailments, but also to provide information about their relationships, their childhoods, their 95 emotional state, and their life aspirations—elements that are central to Shipibo notions of health and wellness (see Chapter 1 and above).

Some examples of the remedies (rao in Shipibo) that are regularly prescribed include: canela (cinnamon) for cleaning out sustos (shocks/traumas); chimipampana, which acts to clean drugs and alcohol from the system and aids with resolve to quit addictive substances; a mixture of camu camu, lemon, ginger and honey, used as an overall body-mind tonic, for strengthening the body, helping with body pain, and assisting memory; tanti rao, a calmative; alcamphor and garlic, for the treatment of sadness or depression; and herba luisa (lemongrass) which ‘blasts light in.’ Mapacho (jungle tobacco), one of the most important elements in plant medicine healing throughout South America, is also widely used.

MAPACHO: JUNGLE TOBACCO

Essential when working with any plant spirits. If a curandero is not working with tobacco, then there is every reason to question if they are truly a plant-spirit curandero. The plant spirits require tobacco. Tobacco is protector, cleaner, conduit and sustenance for the plant- spirit doctors. Temple of the Way of Light (2017n)

The jungle tobacco, Mapacho, is central to virtually every aspect of Shipibo plant medicine healing, both in and away from the Temple. Wilbert (1987) identifies nearly 300 societies throughout South America in which tobacco has been utilised for the protection and health of local populations for an estimated 8,000 years. Visitors to the Temple are told that just like Ayahuasca, Mapacho facilitates access to all of the plants. Mapacho stands alone, however, in the broad diversity of functions it fulfils, as well as the multiplicity of forms in which it is applied. At the Temple I regularly saw it used in the form of a tincture or tea, both imbibed to settle digestive complaints and poured into the nose to clear sinuses. The tar produced from smoking Mapacho was also used as a salve for broken FIGURE 21: MAESTRA APPLIES TAR FROM THE STEM OF HER PIPE TO A SKIN LACERATION and ulcerated skin. Wilbert (1991: 181) outlines multiple further applications, stating that it is mainly used as an analgesic. It can be delivered through the skin, lungs, gastrointestinal tract, and even through the eyes; mixed with saliva or powder, and applied as leaf plasters; massaged, poured and absorbed into the body (Wilbert, 1991: 181). 96 Mapacho ‘feeds’ the plants both in its solid form—maestr@s will often leave dried leaves at the base of plants as gifts—and in its smoke form when it is used to attract other plant spirits. According to Wilbert (1991: 182) it is a ‘soul food’ that spirits cannot access without human facilitation, acting as a strong attractant that captures the attention of the spirit world when smoked. Gow (1996: 95) also notes Mapacho’s power to transform the essence of the Self, referencing its capacity to make the shaman more ‘like a spirit’.

Mapacho smoke is ‘readily programmable’ (Alejandro, Facilitator) so it can carry both intention and the ‘charge’ of the ikaros from the maestr@ to their patient. The smoke is blown over the body as a potent energy cleanser. In its capacity to protect, the spirit of Mapacho, activated through the application of smoke, is unsurpassed and integral to the ongoing safety of the maestr@. Along with Ayahuasca, Mapacho is considered a ‘master plant’ that equally challenges the cultural ontologies of Westerners: rather than being experienced as a toxic drug of dependence and deviance, Westerners are instead presented with tobacco as an essential ally in plant medicine healing, a potential source of immense power and agency.127

INTRODUCING A PSYCHOLOGICAL FOCUS TO AYAHUASCA SHAMANISM

While psychological health and emotions are clearly incorporated into the focus of healing events in Shipibo shamanism—consider the envy and jealously reported to exist behind most acts of brujeria—and while most of the relational aspects for the healer occur within their perception, the personal psychology of the patient as the predominant focus is a unique manifestation of neo-shamanism. As Wallis (1999: 42) states: ‘Neo-shamanism today describes "a spiritual path for personal empowerment," utilizing altered states of consciousness and the shaman's worldview’.

As outlined in Chapter 1, visitors to the Temple bring with them a broad range of conceptualisations with regard to ayahuasca, and many of those reveal markedly different worldviews from the Shipibo. While Ayahuasca tends to be universally acknowledged as both as a medicine and as a doctor, ‘It’ is increasingly revered for its function as a psychologist or therapist.128 As a medicine, ayahuasca is recognised for its great affinity with the human condition, displaying a supra-natural ability to facilitate healing. As a doctor, the spirit of

127 For an exploration on the relationship between Mapacho and the Self, see Sharrock (in press). 128 My use of the generic ‘It’ reflects a change that has occurred in the presentation of Ayahuasca through the Temple website. While the website from 2009 and the preparation documents that were written in 2010 consistently refer to Ayahuasca as ‘she’, the website at the time of writing has been updated to exclude the attribution of gender.

97 Ayahuasca is recognised for its agency, able to be in conscious relationship with the patient; It is respected for its innate ‘intelligence’, and appreciated for its ability to allow access to a broad arsenal of plant doctors and other elemental entities, each with their own unique ability to invoke healing responses within a network of relationships incorporating the maestr@ and the patient. And now, more specifically, Ayahuasca is lauded in its capacity as a therapist for its ability to interact with the (Western) human psyche to bring about novel and profound insights.

In one of his introductory talks to a workshop group, Matthew spoke about why ayahuasca was known as oni (knowledge) in Shipibo and what it thus ‘offers’:

We’re ingesting knowledge; it’s the search for knowledge. It’s the release of all the things that stop us from truly connecting to innate, primordial, pristine knowledge which is encoded within our system and which we have had access to within the conscious, sentient, intelligent plant kingdom. What is typically blocking us from this knowledge … are the issues that we carry within us. The key to this work … is understanding where energies arise … We are energetic beings … We get born and subject to what happens in our lives we pick up energies … Most people on the planet have experienced some form of trauma in our lives … We could have been shouted at, bullied, problems with our mum or dad … all the way through to, let’s say we were a soldier in Afghanistan, violations, etcetera, etcetera. What happens with those traumas is that we receive a ‘shock’ to our system and that shock leaves a residual energy that lodges itself within our system and we have typically forgotten as a species how we release that residual energy. It gets stuck … It blocks the flow of positive energy and things start breaking down within our system … Our healthcare system doesn’t recognise this. It looks at the symptoms and not the cause. In the traditional medicine of the Amazon, we’re looking at the cause. Where did these issues arise from? What is the root of the problem? This is the key.

Jane, a long-term facilitator, described Ayahuasca as an ‘incredible psycho-somatic therapist’, a conception shared by many at the Temple. She said that Ayahuasca allows the maestr@s to connect with their spirit allies—who act as doctors themselves—enabling them to see misaligned patterns and blockages in the matrix of the body and energetic system of the patient. This allows the maestr@ to channel the medicine of the appropriate plants into that matrix through the use of the ikaros. Simultaneously, she explained, Ayahuasca itself scans the patient’s system, similarly targeting areas that are blocked, flaccid, constricted or otherwise askew. Together, the maestr@s and the doctor-medicines act to cleanse and realign the system. This is often accomplished by (energetically) manoeuvring the (energetic) blockages into the digestive system to be purged. Jane reminded pasajeros that ‘what comes through the medicine is insight into what’s happening with yourself’. This process, she said, provides insight into the

98 way the Self interacts with the world. It has the ability to shift things, she said, but she warned the group: ‘Ayahuasca is not a panacea. You need to meet the medicine halfway’. While the Shipibo focus pointedly on social relationships, these particular attributions of psychological discourses represent novel interpretations that I have not encountered in Shipibo representations, particularly of the aetiologies of dis-ease and wellness. While sociality and environmental elements are recognised as (at least partially) causal in both, the distinct focus on radical self-responsibility—how the individual has ‘taken on’ and managed the traumas they have encountered from their environment—is a significant and relatively recent element of the approaches to shamanism emergent in Western adaptations.

CONCLUSION

Speaking of Shuar shamanism in Ecuador, Johnson (1995: 174) suggests that while it is important to recognise that ‘“tradition” is always a process of active recreation’, the Shuar and ‘urban Americans’ apply ‘different structuring strategies’ in their approach to shamanic practices. He points out that Shuar shamanism emphasises the preservation of traditional knowledge, while ‘on the New Age, neo-shamans’ side, the emphasis [is] on mobility and individual choice’ (Johnson, 1995: 174). With a reliance on ‘radical modernity’, Johnson (1995: 174) highlights some significant characteristics of the individualistic, neo-shamanic approach, which, he says, incorporates:

the confrontation with a plurality of religions, which leads to … a focus on individual agency, choice, ‘needs’ and preference in the religious ‘marketplace’, and … an obsession with the ‘self’, subjectivity and reflexivity.

He says that individuals are consequently:

free and capable of converting to any religious system in any place and at any time because … space is phantasmagoric and dislocated from place—there are not really sacred spaces but rather only sacred states of mind and sacred relationships with abstract deities (Johnson, 1995: 174).

This individualistic focus, he says, has led to the ‘psychologization’ of shamanism (Johnson, 1995: 175), and it is readily identifiable in the discourses and conceptualisations of many at the Temple. Navigating a culture that does not tend to incorporate notions of the Self as a locus of energy, or events as energetic interactions, Temple staff and visitors must find language and other symbolic methods of contextualising their experiences within the realms of the ayahuasca and plant medicine healing environment. As Bourdieu (1991) points out, linguistic exchanges are power exchanges. Language and culture act to both represent and reproduce each other. The

99 application of intercultural interpretation, therefore, symbiotically affects the cultures involved. Hegemonic power dynamics are necessarily revealed in the process.

Several of the most obvious adaptations to traditional practices and conceptualisations that are unfolding at the Temple reflect many of the patterns of neo-shamanism that have been identified over recent decades: the ‘dark side of shamanism’ is being mitigated (Brown, 1989); the embrace of the feminine is enhanced (Morris, 1995; Ornstein, 1993), as is that of ecofeminism, emergent from the fundamental premise that ‘no attempt to liberate women (or any other oppressed group) will be successful without an equal attempt to liberate nature’ (Gaard, 1993: 1); New Age spiritual and psychological ontologies hone focus pointedly toward the self (Atkinson, 1992; Johnson, 1995; Lindquist, 2004; Wallis, 1999); and shamanism is increasingly sought as a form of therapy (Atkinson, 1992).

While there is an obvious opportunity to focus on a deep analysis of the cultural changes that are specifically occurring for the Shipibo as a result of the highly successful (business and therapeutic) model developed at the Temple, the following chapters instead focus on how the culture of the Western self is changing and developing as a result of contact with this environment, through a culture that embraces novel experiences and understandings of extended notions of human Being.

100 CHAPTER 4: LIVING THE (WESTERN) SELF

The Western conception of the person as a bounded, unique, more or less integrated motivational and cognitive universe, a dynamic center of awareness, emotion, judgment, and action organized into a distinctive whole and set contrastively both against other such wholes and against a social and natural background is, however incorrigible it may seem to us, a rather peculiar idea within the context of the world's cultures. Clifford Geertz (1975b: 48)

With regard to the definition of ‘the Western individual’, Morris (1991: 4) identifies that ‘there are in fact … varying and contrasting conceptions of what constitutes the human subject’. In his exploration of texts written by 46 respected thinkers from across the social sciences and philosophical traditions, Morris (1991) provides diverse and sometimes incompatible representations of the Westerner that have emerged since the time of Descartes. Recognising these traditions as ‘inherently androcentric’ (1991: 1), Morris (1991: 361) identifies a ‘rationalist philosophical tradition that stems from Plato, and that sets up a dichotomy between the subject and the objective world’, informing an epistemological bias fundamentally interested in the experience of the Self as existent within—but separate from—a world of discrete Others.

Intertwined with these theoretical positions, worldviews emergent from the predominant spiritual and political discourses of Western culture have acted to cement ontologies of separation and hierarchical relationality in the psyches and lived experiences of its members (Celtel, 2004; Hertz, 2004 [1960]; Lovejoy, 1936; Macpherson, 1963). Christian representations of the human in hierarchical relationship to both sacred and secular Others incorporate a hierarchical arrangement of components of the Self (mind, body, spirit; see Lovejoy, 1936). Biomedical approaches to health born of Cartesian dualism facilitate recognition of the individual Self in terms of its component parts (Long, 2015; Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987; Shildrick, 1997). During the 19th century, the ‘American Revolution’ saw the emergence of democracy, capitalism, and industrialisation that further encouraged distinction between individuals and their neighbours, their communities, and governing bodies (Daniels, 2011). Indigenous peoples have simultaneously been portrayed as relational, communal, and ‘dividual’ (Marriott, 1976b; Strathern, 1988); as living in close connection with each other and with Nature, and, as such, providing stark contrast to Western societies (Geertz, 1984; Harris, 1989; Shweder and Bourne, 1984; Taylor, 2007). These oppositional representations are challenged by authors who suggest that personhood across all cultures is far better suited to categorisation along a continuum rather than being represented as dialectic oppositions (e.g. Appuhamilage,

101 2017; Ewing, 1990; Henare et al., 2007; Spiro, 1993). They argue that members of all cultures share a sense of themselves as both separate and interconnected to some degree.

The pasajeros at the Temple generally demonstrated the type of relationship to Self that Geertz describes as quintessentially Western: an understanding of the Self as a discrete, bounded individual. At the same time, there were as many ‘personhoods’ or realities as there were pasajeros. In chapters that follow I explore the enormous variety of individual nuances that affect the process of meaning-making within the particular (syncretic) cultural environment provided at the Temple. The environment created there is not bounded by local custom and ways of thinking but rather incorporates (often vastly) different epistemologies and ontologies that act to redefine notions of the Western Self. This chapter outlines the development of some salient predispositions for Westerners as they prepare to navigate the journey through an increasingly syncretic Self on their journey toward increasing wellness, with a particular focus on the notions of embodiment and boundaries.

INDIVIDUALISING THE WESTERN SELF

Christian theology posits that from the time that Adam and Eve were cast from the Garden of Eden, hostility was introduced into the harmonious relationships that originally prevailed between humanity, their God (the Creator; the spiritual) and their the natural environment (see Genesis, Holy Bible: King James Version). Additionally, it recognises a God-given decree, establishing a series of strict hierarchical relationships between God and his various creations that continue to pervade Western ontologies today (Lovejoy, 1936). Lovejoy (1936) states that the emergent doctrine of ‘The Great Chain of Being’ as dictated by the Christian God placed humanity in a subservient position to God and the celestial beings (the sacred) and authoritative over animals, plants and elemental forms (the secular). During the period of the Enlightenment in the 17th century, magico-religious ideals of the church were increasingly deemed inferior to the rational scientific epistemologies of reductionism and materialism (Barnett, 2003; Lupton, 2012; Styers, 2004). While significant changes in epistemology ensued, the notion of separable and hierarchical relations became more firmly established. The particular influence of Descartes’ Meditations (1998 [1637; 1641]) from which the doctrine of Cartesian mind-body dualism emerged, has become widely recognised as foundational for much of the reductionist, hierarchical thinking that infiltrates the Western psyche today (Abram, 1996; DelVecchio Good et al., 1992; McNay, 1992; Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987). Abram (1996: 32), for example, states that Cartesian dualism is the point from which ‘material reality came to be commonly spoken of as a strictly mechanical realm’, ultimately extricating the body from the machinations of the mind and physical environment, and positing it as raw material. Gordon (1988) outlines a series of Tenacious Assumptions in Western Medicine based on this premise of autonomy, the 102 central one being that ‘nature’—in this case, the biology of the body—is autonomous from and opposed to spirit and consciousness, and independent from—indeed existing prior to—culture and society (Gordon, 1988: 27). DelVecchio Good et al. (1992: 8) state that within this framework, ‘Nature—biology—is the basis for truth itself’, known through its physical properties as manifest under a microscope. Scheper-Hughes and Lock (1987: 8) suggest that the ‘Cartesian Legacy’ is the ‘singular premise’ that informs the oppositional, war-like approaches prolific in modern medicine. It is the premise, suggest DelVecchio Good et al. (1992: 9) that confines the medical doctor’s responsibility to the private, individual sufferer, focused determinedly on their body with little to no consideration of anything beyond (or within) it.

In the 18th century, the American Revolution marked the establishment of ‘individualism’ within communities, effectively rearranging the relationship between individuals and their society, economy and political establishments, and rendering each a sovereign entity (Daniels, 2011). Effectively completing the separation between the individual Self and their social milieu, the individual learned to aspire to complete independence as a mark of success. Csikszentmihalyi (1997: 86) notes that this has led, at the level of the individual, to an existential state of ‘anomie and alienation’. He observes:

The shields that have worked in the past—the order that religion, patriotism, ethnic traditions, and habits instilled by social classes used to provide—are no longer effective for increasing numbers of people who feel exposed to the harsh winds of chaos. The lack of inner order manifests itself in the subjective condition that some call ontological anxiety, or existential dread. Basically, it is a fear of being, a feeling that there is no meaning to life and that existence is not worth going on with. Nothing seems to make sense (Csikszentmihalyi, 2002: 12).

An individual extricated from the guiding principles of the collective, he suggests, is a being in chaos (Csikszentmihalyi, 2002: 12). This is a particularly salient observation if we incorporate the notion that individuals are increasingly at war with themselves.129 As the focus on cultural parameters that prioritised the wellness and protection of whole communities diminished, dualistic oppositions consequently infiltrated and informed an increasingly divided, materialist Western culture and, subsequently, the Western psyche (Hertz, 1960). In the context of the subsequent relationship between parts of the Self, McNay (1992: 12) notes that this Western ontological disposition posits pure rational thought as superior to the carnal needs of the body; while Grosz (1994: 5) states that, within this model, the body becomes ‘a source of interference

129Consider, for example, the notions forwarded by Elias (1994) that the ‘civilizing process’ in modern (Western) society incorporated a targeted focus on self-surveillance and self-restraint.

103 with and a danger to the operation of reason’. These ‘fragmented concepts’ of existential reality (Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987: 10) have thus encouraged militaristic relationships within the Self.130

The Western body, in this environment, is generally posited as a physical site that is acted within and upon, both housing the incarnated soul while remaining a site of contestation and power relations, and, particularly relevant to this thesis, a material form prone to sickness when infiltrated by external pathogens (Foucault, 1975; Lupton, 2012; Ross, 2012; Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987). While these discourses remain pervasive in Western biomedical and psychological approaches to health and illness (Van Wolputte, 2004), researchers throughout the human sciences are increasingly challenging the tendency to approach wellbeing from an ontology of reductionist materialism (e.g. Appuhamilage, 2017; Chopra, 2007; Lupton, 2012; Van Wolputte, 2004). Embracing this focus, my aim is to explore alternative conceptualisations of the body and the Self that move beyond notions of separable entities, to recognise modes of complexity that have been, to date, often stifled by tendencies toward reductionism (Long, 2012, 2015).

EMBODYING A SELF

In our present situation, our body is ‘other’. Our body is our teacher, our guide. Our body is the locus of reality. Reggie Ray (2015)

In an attempt to encourage anthropological analysis away from pervasive tendency ‘to explain human behaviour in terms of linguistic models, patterns of social organisation, institutions or roles, structures of the mind or symbolic meaning’ that consistently posit the body in semiotic and/or mechanistic terms, Jackson (1983a, 1983b) utilised the phenomenological ‘lived body’ of Merleau-Ponty, and Bourdieu’s concept of habitus to argue for a new approach to conceptualising the body that incorporates the ‘physical aspects of Being where our sense of separateness and distinctiveness is most readily blurred’ (Jackson, 1983a: 328). Based on his observations of the Kuranko of Sierra Leone, he insisted that there is a ‘continuity between language, knowledge and bodily praxis’, advocating for an approach to embodiment that recognises that ‘the world of things is merged with the world of Being’ (Jackson, 1983b: 130; emphasis in original), where ‘a true interdependency of mind and body, Self and World’ refocuses anthropological analysis away from dualistic representations and toward a recognition of ‘unities’. Through his exploration of metaphor, he argues that there is a correlation between

130 See Marx and Engels (1848), Elias (1994), and Foucault (1975, 1977, 1990) for in-depth analyses of the function of societal and self discipline during and since the Industrial Revolution in the 19th century.

104 ‘the personal body and the body of the world’ (Jackson, 1983b: 127), and that the body, far from being a ‘natural symbol’ upon which ‘forms of social organisation are inscribed’, is a domain of ‘essential unity of personal, social and natural ways of Being’ (Jackson, 1983b: 143).

Similarly, Csordas (1990: 23) conceptualises complex phenomenological experiences of the Self within a body, proffering a concept of the human-being as a separable yet relational entity. He developed his concept of ‘embodiment’ from a foundation that recognises the body as ‘the existential ground of culture and the sacred’. He combines Merleau-Ponty’s (1962) notion of the body as the ‘setting in relation to the world’ (Csordas, 1990: 8) and Bourdieu’s (1977) concept of habitus that describes the body’s role as the ‘principle generating and unifying all practices’ (Csordas, 1990: 8). His integrated notion of embodiment incorporates the preconditioned act of existing in a body with the reflexive act of objectifying the Self as an object amongst a group of objects—recognising Self in relation to Other. Additionally, it incorporates the subconscious influence of practices and beliefs that have been accumulated over a lifetime through social and cultural learning (habitus) and that are mediated through the predispositions and agency of the Self, which shape and affect interpretations and understandings. His concept, therefore, encompasses both the perceptual and the practical; the effect of society on the Self, as well as the agency of the Self and its effect on society, experienced both on a conscious and subconscious level (Csordas, 1990).

Expanding the inclusive theories of Jackson and Csordas to further incorporate notions of the Self and body in terms of their ‘essence’—the lived experience of the body and the Self as loci of energy—can help in understanding the meaning-making of pasajeros’ experiences in ayahuasca ceremonies. These notions arise from psychotherapeutic discourses (e.g. Kurtz, 1909; Staunton, 2002), interpretations of health that are often recognised as ‘New Age’ (e.g. Lipton, 2007; Pert, 2007), as well as interpretations emerging from quantum physics (e.g. Capra, 1975; Chopra, 1989; Zohar, 1990; Zukav, 1979), that variously incorporate perceptions of the body itself as a site of integral intelligence—of energetic frequency—with each cell incorporating inherent intelligence and knowledge that works in conjunction with the brain rather than strictly as its vehicle.131 These understandings reject ideas of the body, mind, and spirit as discrete entities. Rather, the Self is recognised as a body-mind complex, infused with a spirit, often experientially lived by pasajeros in dualistic terms.

131 See Chapter 7 for further discussion on these discourses.

105 THE BODY-MIND AND SPIRIT COMPLEX & AYAHUASCA

Why do we need ayahuasca? Right from the time of conception we start taking in information, feelings, emotions, drama, at a cellular level, including the feeling of our mother when we are in utero. Then there is the trauma of birth. As we’re going through life we’re bombarded. We’re told in the West, ‘get over it’, ‘don’t cry’, etcetera and so we swallow or bury our experiences and don’t deal with them. It’s like filling a backpack with stones and it can lead to things like depression and alcoholism. Ayahuasca unlocks the areas where these things are stored, which allows healing. Alejandro (Introduction talk, December, 2012).

A foundational premise regarding the embodied Self at the Temple incorporates the notion of tabula rasa—the mind as a ‘blank slate’—not because of the inference that the Self comes into being entirely without formation—indeed, the idea of imprints from past lives is common—but because of the notion that at its very essence, the nature of the Self is pure. In this understanding, the embodied Self is posited as a locus of ‘cultural inscription’ (Lupton, 2012: 22), with illness and dis-ease in virtually any form predominantly presented in terms of residual energetic imprints laid upon the pure Self that create disharmony. These imprints may become visible to the maestr@s under the influence of ayahuasca as ‘chaotic’ and ‘harmful designs/patterns’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017o), which they work to reinstate to their ‘natural’ (symmetrical, original) state. Brabec de Mori (2009: 137) states that the Shipibo recognise this in terms of ‘correctness’ in which relationships between the ‘body and mind, culture, nature and spiritual entities’ are in harmony.

The concepts of tabula rasa and the ‘blank slate’ emerge from the philosophies of Aristotle and John Locke. In the late 1600s, Locke developed his notions regarding the original condition of the human mind, which, he argued, is like ‘white paper, void of all characters’ (Locke, 1999 [1690]: 87). This reflects Aristotle’s assertion that the mind prior to socialisation is a ‘blank slate’—tabula rasa—upon which the external environment impresses knowledge (in Mead, 2007 [1882]). Cooley (1902) and Mead (1934) later developed these notions, each pointing out the centrality—even necessity—of the social system in the development of the Self. Mead asserts that an individual constantly modifies the Self through reflexive acts of ‘internalizing’ social processes; the Self is modified, he says, through the ‘implicit conversation of an individual with himself’, which occurs within an incessant feedback loop with the social environment (Mead, 1934: 47).132 He makes functional distinctions between the reflective, self-

132 Mauss (1985 [1938]) similarly recognises the persistent interaction of the individual and their society when he describes the exchange between personal psychological characteristics and sociological

106 conscious aspect of Self that develops in relationship to a ‘generalized other’—the ‘Me’—and the non-reflective, creative and spontaneous aspect—the ‘I’. Aboulafia (2016) explains: ‘the “I” reacts and initiates action, but the actions taken are comprehended, objectified, as a “Me.”’ In this way, the ‘I’ can only be known in retrospect, through various responses of the ‘Me’. Mead’s (1934: 165) concept of the ‘Me’ incorporates the material aspects of the ‘organism endowed with sense organs’ (e.g. the retina) that perceive the surrounding environment, while it also ‘carries with it internalized responses that serve as a commentary on the “I's” actions’ (Aboulafia, 2016). It is the conscious aspect of the Self that criticises, plans, suggests and monitors, ‘the running current of awareness … the running commentary of the “Me” on the actions of the “I”’ (Aboulafia, 2016). For Mead (1934: 165), the Self displays a unique capacity to be ‘an object to itself’ through the process of reflexivity: a ‘reflective consciousness’.

Mead’s conceptualisations of the Self remain helpful in exploring the processes of meaning- making by pasajeros. His notions of ‘consciousness’ excited criticism from religious circles, however, particularly because they acted to naturalise the notion of a ‘soul’, removing it from the realms of the sacred, but in doing so, neglecting to postulate its genesis (see Collins, 1989: 5; Wiley, 1992: 115). In contrast, Buber (2013 [1937])—who also recognises dualistic aspects of the Self and, similarly to Mead, states that the Self can only be known in the context of relationship—recognises a central relationship between God and the transcendent aspects of the Self. He labels the dual parts of the Self in his conceptions as I-It and I-Thou. Buber (2013 [1937]: 4) posits every It as ‘bounded by others’, a thing in relation to another thing, with the I- It relationship representing that of the Self to the world. Thou, however, ‘has no bounds’ (Buber, 2013 [1937]: 4) with the I-Thou being a mutual, ever-evolving interaction of relatedness. Like Mead’s ‘I’, Thou cannot be experienced, and everything is known of it directly through ‘the unity of the whole’ (Buber, 2013 [1937]: 8-9). Unlike Mead, however, Buber recognises the eternal Thou as God, and in inferring the direct relationship between I and the eternal Thou, recognises a transcendental aspect to the Self that is connected to all else and known through the reflexive act.

The theories of Mead and Buber, in recognising the Self in terms of duality and reflexivity, as well as Buber’s notion of a transcendental aspect to the Self, are helpful in interpreting the understandings of the pasajeros as they explain their experiences. In combination, they reflect the lived experiences of pasajeros who appear to speak of (at least) two specific elements of the Self: that which is lived in ordinary consciousness (including the influence of the subconscious

influences as a ‘rhythm’, a continuous, symbiotic relationship between the two in the development and evolution of both.

107 self) and that which transcends it. The effective dissonance and resonance between the two form the foundation of this exploration.

HEALING THE BODY AND THE BODY-MIND

I stated earlier that a central focus for maestr@s is to restore the patient to their ‘correct’ state through the injection of intention and sound. When recognised in terms of rectifying distorted, chaotic, or otherwise asymmetrical patterns, this may at first appear to involve a relatively straightforward process akin to a ‘mechanical’ realignment of distorted parts. While the maestr@s might ‘see’ patterns as they would a physical form, however, their work in the realms of energy and spirit tend to induce subjective experiences for (equally mareado) pasajeros, which are steeped in symbolic meaning and often involve multiple aspects of their being.133 In ceremony, the body and Self are often experienced as synonymous, their state revealed in terms of the pervasive imprints of physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual influences that become apparent under ayahuasca’s influence. While the process of releasing these energies is often experienced physically through purging, the process will often have profound and pervasive impacts through the interconnected mental, emotional, and spiritual realms. This was illustrated through pasajero Tom’s description.

Tom (UK, 19, Design Student) had been struggling for several years with ‘many complex issues’ including systemic candida and poor circulation. These issues had led him to a life of almost complete social isolation. He had severely restricted his diet and had a disciplined practice of meditation, which, he explained, had ‘healed’ his mind. His body, though, ached constantly, was ‘very inflexible’ and physically weak, and his spine health was deteriorating. During ceremony, he asked Ayahuasca how he could improve his meditation practice as he had not been able to find as much peace in it recently and had felt his depression returning. He received a clear response: ‘Yoga!’ Talking to me after ceremony, he recounted how ‘she told me and then she showed me.’ He felt wrapped in a cocoon of energy and then, surrounded by ascending spirals and snakes, was taken ‘up into another realm’ where ‘this healing happened’:

A presence took over my body and was controlling my entire body for me, and it was cleaning and fine-tuning and polishing every single part of my body. It started at my head and went all the way to my feet … It was in my body and was my body at the same time … I was just kind of this watching presence, watching it all happen … I’ve tried to do yoga, maybe two, three times, but I’ve found it’s so painful … I can’t sit cross-legged, it

133 Mareado is Spanish for ‘seasickness’ or ‘dizziness’ and is used to refer to the altered state of consciousness that occurs under the influence of ayahuasca.

108 hurts … I’ve only been able to do the five-minute warm-up. Basically, for the next seven hours, It [Ayahuasca] performed … every single yoga posture through my body. Perfectly! … [I was] physically doing yoga for seven hours straight! It was incredible. I mean I did positions that I thought my body would never be able to get into. I mean, at one point I did a headstand, and then into a roll, and then from the roll my feet landed on the wood at the back of my bed and I pushed out with the arched back and my belly facing upwards to the sky … There was times when my leg would be up to my side … These were positions that … prior to it, were physically not possible without serious damage to my body.

Tom did not have any visions during that ceremony but felt that he had established a clear line of communication with Ayahuasca in which ‘It’ told him he was ‘perfectly healed’. He came to the conclusion that meditation, his previous practice for the wellbeing of his mind and spirit, only took him so far in his quest for healing, even when combined with a ‘clean’ physical diet. That the capacity of his physical body was so quickly adapted without resulting in injury, however, indicates that changes in some aspect of his ‘mind’ were integrally linked with his physicality, and that it retained limitations. He explained how he realised that he had ‘negativity’ stuck in his physical body, which required a physical process of release—not a physical incapacity, but an (imprinted) ‘energetic’ barrier within the body-mind. Purging for Tom came in the form of yawning and deep releases of breath during the ceremony, giving him a systemic clarity as his body-mind was cleansed, coming into alignment with what he identified as the ‘clean’ state of his intellectual mind and spirit.

The relationship between body and mind were also central for Mary M. (USA, 47, Psychologist). Her experiences in ceremony were similar to many other pasajeros who gained insights into their behaviours through the process of embodying the consequences of their actions:

I had this really bad evening one evening, like I was mareada, I was just nauseous and dizzy and all over the place and, argh, just begging to throw up and it wouldn’t come and it wouldn’t come, and I realised it was around [using] drugs and alcohol, and Ayahuasca kept telling me: ‘This is how you wanna feel? You wanna feel disoriented? You wanna feel off your rocker? You wanna feel dizzy and sick and disconnected? Here! Feel it!’ And It wouldn’t let me throw up and It just kept bringing it on and bringing it on … and then finally I went to the bathroom and everything came out, like I had major diarrhoea— sorry—and it was just going and going … The rest of the time I was in there I was just smiling and laughing and stuff was just coming out of me and I’m like crackin’ up.

109 It was common to hear of scenarios in which pasajeros were unable to purge, even when they were begging for release from the experience of physical discomfort and nausea. Forcing a purge was, however, strongly discouraged. As Matthew explained during an introductory talk:

You want to let the medicine make you purge. It’s down to that supreme intelligence to know when you should be purging as opposed to you saying ‘I can’t do this any more’ or sticking your fingers in your throat, you know. The medicine will bring it out when it should be brought out.

The epistemic beliefs that are revealed here attribute agency to Ayahuasca and the plant medicines in relationship with the body and mind. The efficacious element of the ‘medicine’ appears to arise from its action to reveal the relationship of the body and mind to each other. In the cases just mentioned, discomfort experienced in the realms of the body led to a process of meaning-making by the mind. An important aspect of this appears to be a necessary integration of the mind and the body, which are ultimately brought into harmony with each other through the act of purging. Purging cleansed both simultaneously, moving each toward a more ‘pure’ or ‘clean’ state in the process. This is not a state of tabula rasa insofar as I never heard of ‘positive’ imprints being purged—the body and/or mind are not returned to a ‘blank’ state. The notion of ‘energy’ becomes salient here as it is only those imprints that are lived or experienced as limiting, dense, difficult or in some other way, ‘negative’ that are targeted and engaged for elimination. The ‘slate’ retains the ‘positive’, seemingly having integrated it into itself. In Mary’s case, the punishing discomfort of the body led to a lesson regarding her past behavioural patterns and the potential they have to adversely affect her life. Mary came to understand that Ayahuasca was teaching her by forcing her to fully embody the consequences of her choices. It was necessary for her to comprehend the meaning of (and reason for) her suffering before release became possible. By being forced to ‘live’ the experience in a fully embodied way, Mary felt she was taught a clear lesson. She then purged the residue and was left with an experience of elation.

For both Tom and Mary, the body is presented as a terrain that both retains a form of ‘intelligence’ of its own (in the body-mid) and is also experienced in relationship with the intellectual mind. While these aspects of body, mind, and body-mind can still be conceptualised as separable entities with their own unique issues and influences, the following examples reveal interactions between them that reveal more complex interrelationships.

When Stephanie (USA, 27) arrived at the Temple for the work exchange programme, she had been ‘clean and sober’ for five and a half years after three and a half years in recovery from addictions to alcohol, cocaine and benzodiazepines from the ages of 15 to 21. Even after years

110 of therapy and study to become a Spiritual Psychologist, however, she felt that the root cause of her addictions had not yet been reached:

The desire for alcohol and drugs has completely been lifted from me … however … up until coming here, I still felt a lot of the emotional and spiritual pain that I believed was causing me to reach out to drugs and alcohol in the first place and so, despite all my efforts … I couldn’t get to those most soul-rooted issues, really get to the core but … I just knew that there was stuff even deeper down that I wasn’t able to access through that realm. And so I’ve always had this really deep sadness and like a real heaviness in my heart. I’ve done a lot of healing in my life and I just haven’t been able to shake it.

In one of her ceremonies, Stephanie began to experience intense abdominal pain. She described the medicine taking her back to ‘a close past life’ where she saw her husband beat her and kick her in the stomach when she was pregnant, causing her to lose her baby. In that ceremony, the medicine told her that the trauma in that previous lifetime had resulted in her carrying the soul of the baby within her in this lifetime. From this memory, Stephanie was able to make meaning of several aspects of her current life: her overwhelming desire to have children; her strong fear of men; and the energetic source of her polycystic ovarian syndrome. Like Tom, she did not purge via the more common methods of vomiting or diarrhoea. Instead, she wailed loudly for many hours until, ‘eventually I was able to release the soul of that child I’d been carrying’.

A few nights later she had her ‘biggest ceremony’ in which a ‘completely 100% repressed memory came up that I was probably storing right down there in the ovaries’. She described her bodily response as the memory of sexual abuse by her older brother (in this lifetime) ‘fully came up and out’:

That night, not only was I wailing, probably for about, gosh, 40 minutes or something, but my whole body started convulsing. Just weird, I mean I was like possessed, like [sucking air through teeth in quick panting motion] stuff coming in, coming out, lots of air, breath, um, coughing up god knows what, and my stomach was flapping in and out really viciously, and my hands and my legs were [shaking]. I was just full on.

Her wailing continued well after the ceremony ended, prompting the maestr@s to work further with her.

[The maestro] … started sucking on my stomach [performing a chupa] for a really long time, and [the maestra] was singing, and eventually you know, he spit all over me whatever came out, and as he was sucking I’d have huge convulsions and all of a sudden cry really, really hard or a huge gasp of air would come in and out, I mean, it was like the craziest thing I’ve ever experienced.

111 Stephanie recalled that:

eventually, all of that immense sadness, anger, fear that I was feeling turned into, like, I felt like laughing. And I was almost embarrassed to laugh, but something was like seriously healing.

After that ceremony, Stephanie bled heavily:

I wasn’t on my period but I bled … a lot … Unlike when you’re getting your period, I mean, I felt like I was having a miscarriage. Really painful, too … I would go in the bathroom [during ceremony on the following nights] and, you know, I’m so mareada and I’m looking at this blood … and all of a sudden it would all turn to light. The brightest light I’ve ever seen.

For Stephanie, the emotional traumas that were affecting her lived experience in the present were recognised as having been stored ‘deep’ within the body, beyond the reach of her previous attempts to heal. She experienced her body as a repository of imprinted memory that exposed the continuum of experiences from past incarnations. In this lifetime, she recognised those imprints in terms of ‘suppressed’ memories that were impressed upon her physical organs. The release of her miscarried baby’s soul from a past life and her brother’s sexual abuse in this life—both acts of violence perpetrated by men she loved in a similar ‘area’ of her life (and body)—was experienced in a remarkably similar way as a miscarriage might occur had it happened in this life: as a physical cleansing by blood from her womb in present time. Her vision of the blood as white light signified for her a successful purging and positive transformation of the energetic residue that she had carried within her body—a residue that she posited as creating a continuum of abuse across lifetimes. Stephanie recalled that even though she had visited the underworld, seen herself as a corpse, had her heart torn open and been shown traumatic events in the lives of her family throughout her most difficult ceremonies, ‘as hellish as they were, I was so grateful the next day. I mean, that stuff was gone’. Her understanding was that now that the imprints of abuse were released, the manifestation of further abuse in her future was no longer likely.

Stephanie’s experiences, while incorporating unique detail, were reflected in the narratives of many other pasajeros who had endured sexual abuse. Survivors of sexual violence would often express traumas held within the body in terms of ‘possession’, ‘evil’, and ‘demons’, which they released through the acts of physical purging. While held in the body, emotional trauma, memories, and residual pain became physically and experientially manifest revealing patterns of interconnection that belie attempts at separation. Distinctions between body, mind, and emotion are rendered redundant.

112 The ayahuasca experience often produces insights that lead participants to the conclusion that aspects of mind, such as intelligence and memories, are not merely a product of their brains. Rather, the body, right down to its constituent organs and even cells, is recognised as containing its own ‘emotional intelligence’, its own ‘language’, a ‘mind of its own’.134 In anthropological literature, conceptualisations of the ‘body-self’ (e.g. Lupton, 2012; Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987; Van Wolputte, 2004) and the ‘mindful body’ (e.g. Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987) similarly recognise that qualitative, subjective experiences of health and illness often incorporate an ‘incarnate subjectivity’ (Van Wolputte, 2004: 261) in which the body and mind are inseparable. Lupton identifies the body-self—the ‘self-inside-the-body’ (2012: 23)—as a phenomenon that is cognitive, subconscious and emotional, as well as experienced through the flesh. Andros (2017) explores a phrase emergent from the fishing communities of Caribbean Columbia, Sentipensamiento, which is Spanish for ‘feeling-thinking’. He says:

To “feel-think” is to think with the heart, thought connected to feeling: a fully embodied emotional, intuitive, and rational cognitive process that stands in stark contrast with the disembodied, abstract detachment of cartesian rationalism (Andros, 2017).

Within ceremony, these relational aspects of the embodied Self become evident as the intelligence of the body-mind is often revealed along with a witnessing capacity, a more ‘rational’ part of the Self that often maintains relative objectivity from the experiences being lived through the body-mind.135 It appears that it is the relationship between this more objective perspective and the body-mind subjectivity revealed by ayahuasca (which is often similarly experienced as an intelligent presence with agency) that allows for purging and integration of the Self as a holistic entity. This integration is often expressed in terms of a significant shift in the quality of knowledge: what was once intellectually ‘thought’ becomes integrally—bodily— ‘known’. This move from intellectual to embodied understanding was, for many, central to their healing process. It was frequently articulated as the missing link that many years of therapy had so often neglected to provide.

134 It was common for participants to speak of this in terms as described by quantum physicist Max Planck (in Braden, 2008: 212), who claimed: ‘There is no matter as such! All matter originates and exists only by virtue of a force which brings the particles of an atom to vibration and holds this most minute solar system of the atom together … We must assume behind this force the existence of a conscious and intelligent Mind. This Mind is the matrix of all matter’. This discourse will be explored further in Chapter 7. 135 The witnessing aspect of Self can be present in varying degrees. While it may be entirely absent in ceremonies where the effect of ayahuasca has been particularly strong, it can, at the other extreme, also be present to the degree that it inhibits experiences of integration and flow. This latter aspect will be discussed further in Chapter 6.

113 The majority of people who were specifically seeking to heal severe trauma had often engaged in extensive periods of therapy and other healing techniques before arriving at the Temple. Like Stephanie, however, they often felt that they were unable to reach the ‘depths’ where their traumas were held. Joann (Australia, 56, Medical Admin) explained that throughout the years of counselling she received for ongoing sexual abuse from her father, she had ‘disengaged’ from her body and was approaching her experiences from an intellectual perspective. She said that during her ceremonies: ‘I could feel myself in there for the very first time … which put a lot of the pieces of the puzzle together for me’. Joann (re)lived the experiences ‘through’ her body as if she was a child again, while also maintaining the ability to simultaneously witness the events, her responses, and subsequent insights from the perspective of her ‘adult self’. This enabled her view herself as a friend might, to appreciate her experiences in new ways, and ultimately to be able to fully inhabit her body and to feel safe in it for the first time in her memory. She posited her body as the imperative ingredient for healing: ‘You can say it and you can intellectualise but I hadn't actually felt it … [Now] I love myself’.

Olimpia (Poland, 30, Graphic Designer) similarly ‘returned’ to a state of love after extensive purging of severe physical abuse in her childhood. She explained:

Just the feeling of loving myself is incredible. Like it feels physical … everything I’ve read about love, everything I’ve heard like black and white on a piece of paper, I understood that with my mind, with my logical processes. Until I came here it had no meaning.

Karen (USA, 25) similarly stated:

Now it’s time to be at home in myself and realise that the pain I feel, the frustration, the confusion, I need to be in that … [Ayahuasca] was great, the way it taught me to stop rejecting myself, no self-help book, no teacher could have taught me … The ayahuasca just puts you right in your stuff and I’m an escape artist. … I had to realise: ‘oh you were just trying to escape yourself and how you feel and what’s going on in your life’ … I was constantly at war with myself.

In each of these examples, a state of disconnection is revealed between the body and the mind. Aspects of the Self appear to exist in a state of dissonance where knowledge of one part is not available to the other. Matthew, in one of his introductory talks, articulates this as a pervasive experience when he defines ‘dis-ease’ as a state in which ‘we are not at ease with our-self’. The Temple website (2017h) identifies energetic interference as the causal factor for this:

114 Traumatic symptoms are not caused by the ‘triggering’ of the event itself. They stem from the frozen residue of energy that has not been resolved and discharged; this energy remains trapped in the system, where it can wreak havoc on our mind and body.

Pasajeros reported that the integration of the rational mind and the body-mind led to the experience of self-love. The release of ‘frozen residue’ allowed for an integrated outcome where one part of the Self could now lovingly connect with another part. Within this dynamic, there is an underlying presence of acceptance, where previously denied, ignored, shunned, or otherwise unknown memories become integrated: incorporated into the holistic experience of the Self. For these pasajeros, the change from a state of Self-dissonance to Self-resonance was experienced in terms of each of the parts being purified. This signified a successful passage into the birth of a new life phase: ‘I can’t wait to have kids … This is going to really start a new wave in our family’ (Stephanie); ‘I’m just feeling a newfound sense of elation, not disconnected from my body’ (Joann); ‘I’m so much more of a woman now’ (Karen).

What is most often referred to as a ‘journey’ of healing by pasajeros frequently correlates to stages of the ‘rites of passage’ as conceptualised by van Gennep (2004 [1960]) and further developed by Turner (1967), which incorporate a phase of separation, a liminal phase and a phase of incorporation. Turner (1967: 93) argues that the liminal phase in this process is a time in which new learning occurs, out of which the initiate emerges in a new ‘state’. The liminal phase is marked by a dissolution of old ways of being in, thinking about, and understanding the Self in relation to the world, allowing for new meaning to initiate a phase of ‘rebirth’. He identifies this state as one that holds the potential for both danger and power as the old structure of the Self is disseminated while the new is not yet developed (Turner, 1967: 93). Pain and discomfort are invariably a significant aspect of this passage. The process of making meaning of that pain, then, become important controlling and mitigating factors of the inherent danger and power.

In their exploration of the body as a central concern in medical anthropology, Scheper-Hughes and Lock note that pain—which may present in the form of illness and injury—can instigate what Scarry refers to as a ‘making and unmaking of the world’ (in Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987: 29). ‘Pain destroys, disassembles, deconstructs the world of the victim’, they state while the process of healing leads to a ‘remaking of the world’ (Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987: 29). For Turner, a central part of such a transition is the acquisition of knowledge. He states that:

The arcane knowledge of ‘‘gnosis’’ obtained in the liminal period is felt to change that inmost nature of the neophyte, impressing him, as a seal impresses wax, with the characteristics of his new state. It is not a mere acquisition of knowledge, but a change in being (Turner, 1967: 102).

115 Turner (1967: 102) distinguishes between imprinting knowledge upon the incorporeal terrain of mental activity (as recognised by Aristotle’s notion of tabula rasa) to instead identify the holistic embodied being of the neophyte as the affected topography. The gnosis he refers to is the esoteric knowledge of the initiate, which, in ultimately changing their ‘state’, does not do so by effecting any mechanical change in substance, but rather initiating integral change that comes from the ‘absorption of [the] powers’ of the teaching that ‘grows girls and makes men’ (Turner, 1967: 102). Hoeller (in Lewis, 2008: 123) says that this power:

is not rational knowledge; even less is it an accumulation of information. The Greek language distinguishes between theoretical knowledge and knowledge gained through direct experience . . . gnosis involves an intuitive process that embraces both self-knowledge and knowledge of ultimate, divine realities.

Knowledge and experience, then, are recognised as instrumental, both for their power to effectively create ‘barriers’ between aspects of the Self, and to instigate significant changes in the terrain of Selfhood. Each can act both as a pathogen and as a medicine. In the next section, I will explore the notion of boundaries and barriers as conceptual aspects of the Self that can undergo significant changes through the rites of passage induced by ayahuasca plant medicine healing.

BOUNDARIES AND BARRIERS OF THE SELF

In the examples provided in the previous section, the body-mind can be recognised as a ‘framework’ or a matrix within which the experiences of the ayahuasca plant medicine ceremony are perceived and techniques of healing are applied. Mauss (1979: 61) observes that across all cultures, each individual experiences perceptual boundaries that define the effective parameters of ‘I’, to the degree that each ‘I’ is experienced as a discrete entity, distinct from ‘you’ or ‘it’.136 Further to this, the descriptions above reveal a perceptual distinction made by pasajeros between parts of the Self. Further to notions of the body, mind, and spirit, parts are also regularly identified in terms of conscious, sub-conscious, and the ‘deepest’ levels— regularly experienced and expressed as having the ‘highest’ energetic ‘frequency’—often referred to as ‘higher consciousness’. In the physical realm, the boundaries of the body may appear to be obvious, with the surface of the skin representing the confined locus of the Self. When the body is recognised as being infused with energy and/or spirit, however, the realms of the Self become far less easily defined. Instead, they are perceived experientially, and

136 Experiences of relative connectedness between Self and Others will be explored in detail in Chapter 5.

116 pasajeros’ descriptions reveal they can ‘move’ considerably dependent on relative states of consciousness.

Mary Douglas (2008 [1966]) states that the ‘edges’ of things hold power and value in their functions to both define and to protect. Traversing them, therefore, can create potential for danger. In this section, I will describe some representative experiences of both meeting and traversing boundaries of the Self in ceremony, exploring the perceptions of traversing these boundaries as well as the perceived dangers—and safety—of boundaries themselves. Based on this, I will suggest a conceptual difference between the notion of a ‘boundary’ and a ‘barrier’.

TRAVERSING THE EDGES OF CONSCIOUSNESS

Pasajeros commonly spoke of their own conscious perception in terms of distinct parts. The realms of conscious experience, subconscious experience, and the experience of higher consciousness, were often discussed in terms that indicated that each was experientially unique. The different elements of consciousness were often referred to in hierarchical terms, with the innermost aspect, the higher consciousness—which they also called the Divine, the Higher Self, the God-Self—conceptualised as the ‘true’ or essential nature of being; a birth right that many aimed to reclaim.137 The existential, lived aspect of the self—often labelled the ‘ego’—was regularly posited as an interference to the lived experience of this essential nature, representing that part of a (Western) individual that views it-Self as an entirely separate entity from Other.138 The existential self in this case incorporates both the conscious and the subconscious programmes, habits, beliefs, patterns, behaviours, and imprints that could be attributed to the body, mind, and/or body-mind. In this conception of the Self, both the sacred and secular preside, with the former recognised in terms of its purity while the latter was most often regarded as somehow ‘polluted’ or defiled, being somehow adapted from its most pure state. This understanding led some pasajeros to strive for the obliteration of the ego entirely. For others, it was the imprints within the ego-Self—those existent in both conscious and unconscious awareness—that needed to be cleansed and/or purified to allow harmony between

137 The experience of accessing this aspect of Self will be discussed in detail in Chapter 6. 138 This concept of ‘ego’ represents a variation on the classical definition of Freud. For him ‘ego’ can be related to Mead’s ‘Me’ (above): the rational, judging, decision-making part of the human psyche. Pasajeros, however, tended to represent the ego more broadly, incorporating notions of what it is not. The ego in this context is often used as an umbrella term encompassing all manifestations of the incarnated Self (including Jung’s super-ego, ego, and Id) that contribute to ‘being human’ as contrasted to that which could be considered ‘Divine’ or Higher Consciousness. Rather than invite confusion by using the term ‘ego’, I will relate to this as the ‘existential’ self or the ‘lived’ self.

117 the lived self and the ultimate divine nature of the Self. In that way, the expectation was that the Divine could be experienced through the existential self on an ongoing basis.

Specific elements of the ‘conscious’ and the ‘subconscious’ were defined variously by pasajeros. There was, however, a general trend for them to speak about the former in similar terms to what Mead (1934) labels ‘Me’ while the latter similarly corresponds closely to Mead’s ‘I’. Julia (USA, 39, entrepreneur), for example, explained that:

There are times when I thought, ‘agh! Why is [ayahuasca] doing this to me? Why is it showing me this?’ But what I was really able to see is it’s not doing anything to me. Like, it is completely my own mind. Everything that went on, everything I saw, was Me showing me … The realisations I had, the things I felt about myself, it’s not making me feel that way. It’s just opening the door for me to take a look in. It raises the blinds.

Pasajeros commonly referred to the subconscious as the site of suppressed memories and traumas, observable reflexively by the conscious aspect of the self when they manifested through thoughts and behaviours. The subconscious terrain was often discussed synonymously with the concept of body-mind, an area that has its own innate intelligence, which, when imprinted with traumas was generally regarded as inhibitors to wellbeing that must necessarily be acknowledged and either excavated or integrated to allow the reinstatement of wellbeing. Michaela (Portugal, 30, Dance Therapist) described this when she outlined her aspirations:

I wanted to find my inner joy, my pure joy, energy, passion for life … and also to have this fire, but also courage to step for what I want … and you know try and move all the blockages that could be in front of that, like fears … I need to go through that to get to what I really want.

The Temple (2017g) calls this ‘shadow work’, which they posit as foundational practice. The shadow, they say, is ‘everything inside us that we have disowned, avoided and kept in the dark’. Quoting Jung, they state: ‘Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017g). In order to achieve this excavation of the unconscious, the perceptual boundaries between the elements of the Self must be traversed to allow access to inhibiting and destructive energies. Nancy (USA, 55, Psychotherapist; Spiritual Teacher) recognised the therapeutic value of this process:

We grew up in a family business and my father had a hotel … we had to clean the rooms, and my sisters and I, we all would get molested and treated like [pause] we’d have to deal with these people. And we were young … and I saw all of that [in the ceremony]. So it was like it was in my unconscious and never really got to be seen, like so tucked away …

118 Even in therapy I never knew it was there but it was like my shadow. It was like a shadow, waiting … and I purged all of it.

Both Julia and Nancy recognised hidden regions that needed to be effectively broken into. In both cases, ayahuasca was credited for unlocking the door, raising the blinds, or otherwise allowing them to traverse the threshold that demarcated the previously hidden pieces of information that resided within, allowing a conscious experience of that which was previously hidden. In this way the ‘stones in the backpack’ referred to by Alejandro (above) were revealed. These descriptions, however, reveal notions of boundaries in quite different terms. Rather than representing the edges of perception, these representations of boundaries to consciousness are discussed in terms that I suggest act more in terms of barriers, creating perceived blockages that interfere with access between differing states.

THE BOUNDARY AND THE BARRIER

For Douglas (2008 [1966]: 141), any symbolic ‘idea’ that carries a label is conceptually bounded. Regarding the ‘idea of society’, for example, she says:

This image has form; it has external boundaries, margins, internal structure. Its outlines contain power to reward conformity and repulse attack. There is energy in its margins and unstructured areas (Douglas, 2008 [1966]: 141).

Douglas suggests that margins and boundaries are areas of potential danger; to change their shape effectively changes (and thus challenges) the shape of lived experience; of ‘reality’. Boundaries are also areas associated with vulnerability: in their role for protection they can be attacked and compromised; in their role to define identity they are imperative to identify its limits; and, as a place within which identity is created and understood, the boundary of an individual acts to locate Self and Other, safety and danger, form and formlessness, being and non-being, and life and death. Douglas (2008 [1966]: 44) argues that the application of boundaries acts to distinguish categories and classifications, and that there is then a tendency to treat anything that compromises these established ideas as ‘pollution’. She recognises this form of ‘dirt’ as ‘matter out of place’ (Douglas, 2008 [1966]: 44). As I outlined above, within the context of Self-exploration in an ayahuasca ceremony, imprints that are conceived of having been ‘layered upon’ the Self at birth are similarly conceptualised in terms of ‘dirt’: elements that have become part of the Self but which compromise its ability to function optimally. Although Alejandro, in the quote above, spoke about stones being layered into a backpack, the metaphor that tended to be more pervasive in the course of daily conversations at the Temple was one of accumulating ‘onion layers’ over the course of a lifetime. In this analogy, the multiple experiences of being human act to envelope the essential essence of the (newborn) Self with

119 layers of identity, much like the layers of an onion, ultimately isolating the increasingly developing ego-self from the relative purity of the Self at its core. In this discourse, the layers are recognised in terms of pathogens that have the potential to create dis-ease in their action to dis-integrate the Self. This form of layer is perceived differently from the perceptual boundaries of the Self, acting to effectively ‘block’ experience rather than just represent its edges. These, I refer to as ‘barriers’.

With respect to layers of experience and/or identity formation, not all are conceived of as problematic, but rather only those comprised of ‘negativity’. On the Temple website (2017o), they state:

Negative energy is not native to our bodies and it controls the way we think, the way we perceive and the way we experience our life. It blocks the flow of positive energy, affecting our ability to truly connect not only with ourselves but with others, and holds us back from reaching our true potential.

The aim of the ayahuasca ceremonies in this discourse is to ‘work through’ those accumulated obstructions to effectively reveal the core purity—that which is native to our bodies and which ‘positive’ energies do not conceivably inhibit—allowing the essence of the pure essential Self to manifest in ordinary consciousness as the new locus of existence, enabling a more harmonious and peaceful life; a healed life. The website continues:

By working with ayahuasca, the master plants and the Onanya help us to purge these negative energies in our body. We are then guided towards internal integration, self- awareness and self-direction. We are able to build right relationship and listen more with our hearts (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017o).

This description moves beyond the relationship between aspects of the Self to incorporate relational interactions with others. Again, a distinction can be made between boundaries and barriers in this context. Boundaries of the Self—in the context of the edges of awareness or the experiential limits that delineate ‘your’ thoughts and feelings from ‘mine’—can conceivably ‘shift’ and even become more or less ‘permeable’ over time with respect to Other. When ‘dirt’ insinuates itself within an identity, this interface becomes more complex. ‘Layers’ that act as forms of protection essentially act to ‘block’ relationships between Self and Other, just as they can between the categories of existential and divine aspects of Self. Unlike boundaries, these ‘barriers’ to harmonious relationships tend to be tagged for eradication. Indeed, in Temple discourse, this is ayahuasca’s primary function.

In his exploration of what he refers to as the ‘subtle entanglement’ (Abram, 2011: 192) between humans and the rest of nature, Abram contends that:

120 the medicine persons’ craft insured that the boundary between the human and the more- than-human worlds stayed, itself, permeable—that that boundary never hardened into a barrier, but remained a porous membrane across which nourishment flowed steadily in both directions (2011: 236).

This representation of boundaries and barriers is helpful for conceptualising the potential effect of layers of experience as they are accumulated and ‘held’ within the realms of the Self. Like Abram, I find it useful to distinguish between boundaries and barriers based on their relative ‘permeability’ with respect to the availability for connection between parts and/or entities. In this section I will explore how pasajeros experience boundaries and barriers, and the relative ‘power’ and ‘danger’ that are confronted in their courses of navigation.

When asked about her intentions for attending a workshop at the Temple, Michaela stated that she had been experiencing ‘blockages’ in her life while simultaneously intuiting a purpose for well-established boundaries:

One of [my] big intentions was the question of ‘what do I want?’ Not simple things, but what my inner-most core being wants … and in term of all the blockages that could be in front of that, like fears, lots of fears, just going back to trust, you know and letting go of fears of losing myself, like in relationships, fear of losing myself in the other person … And also wanting to gain a structure, more like an inner structure that’s my structure, and finding out like what’s the spiritual practice that I want to dive into, ‘cause there was that feeling a lot that I’ve been digging lots of holes but not really digging deep into one … I’m a bit tired of that. I want to know what’s really true for me. I want to invest in something … to step out of my fantasy world into manifestation … I want to give shape to myself in the world. Yeah. About becoming a woman, fully and really growing up into that.

In this description, Michaela refers to what I conceive of as both barriers and boundaries. In the beginning she identifies fears she has accumulated throughout her lifetime as ‘blockages’ that stand between her current circumstances and her ability to discover what she wants in her ‘inner-most core being’. She indicates that they effectively block her ability to form healthy relationships, too. While those fears are creating an experiential block that she has not been able to penetrate, she simultaneously experiences her own personal ‘structure’ as too indeterminate, too dissipated to support her passage into womanhood. By dabbling in multiple spiritual practices and multiple relationships, she indicates that she spread herself too thin, and had thus been careless with her own boundaries rather than cultivating the depth and thus the integrity in her identity that she aspires toward. These ‘unstructured’ areas represent a form of danger to her. She relates her lack of structure to a childlike world of fantasy, indicating that limitless

121 possibilities in the imagination, left unchecked, have resulted in a lack of manifestation of anything meaningful in her adult life. Wanting to focus her attention and her energy in order to tame the chaos she perceives in this state, she articulates the importance of boundaries both in relation to her developing identity, and in her ability to remain contained in the context of relationships. In establishing these more durable boundaries of the Self, Michaela expresses hope that she could ‘let go of’ the fears that restrict the access of her existential self to her inner- most desires. She suggests then that the eradication of ‘barriers’ and the stronger establishment of ‘boundaries’ will lead to greater connection to both her own core and to other people.

Similarly, for work exchange participant, Jeff (USA, 52, Artist), tearing away the layers of experience that are accumulated over a lifetime was central for his ability to create meaningful change in his life. He reported a history of ‘serious depression’, revealing that he arrived at the Temple after losing both his business and his love partner through a painful separation the previous year. Just a few months earlier, he had attempted suicide. His intention for attending a Work Exchange Programme was to ‘shake myself up’; he said: ‘I wanted to tear myself down, reinvent myself, obliterate the ego and open my mind’. His experiences at the Temple, both during ayahuasca ceremonies, and during the periods of living and working within a social environment he would otherwise have resolutely avoided, allowed him to fulfil these goals. He said:

This was really putting myself … out of my comfort zone … It’s that tearing down. It’s tearing down your defences and your masks, your walls; it’s tearing [down] all this bullshit, the façade that we carry around with us. And that shit gets heavy, you know? There’s a lot of energy put into all that. Pretending we’re somebody because of the stories we’ve told ourselves. All the shit that’s happened to us in our past is part of our story, and it’s not real … It’s all past now. It’s gone. But we still carry that around as part of who we are … It’s not who we are.

When I asked Jeff what tearing these things down allows, he replied: ‘Authenticity. Letting your True Self shine through. You know, your absoluteness, the real essence of who you are. It’s a little less ego, you know?’139 In this instance, Jeff describes ego in terms of a site where experiences build up over a lifetime, ultimately blocking access to what he referred to as ‘the real essence of who you are’. For him, to tear down defences, it is necessary for the ego to be entirely obliterated in order that it can be ‘reinvented’, infused with the ‘True Self’, which can then be lived through his now-open mind. While this was a strategy that ultimately worked well

139 Authenticity will be explored in more detail in Chapter 6.

122 for Jeff, however, others approached their barriers and boundaries with varying degrees of caution.

WHEN PUSH COMES TO OBLITERATION

During my fieldwork, the Temple was undergoing rapid development. Matthew explained that the external manifestation of growth throughout the Temple grounds was a direct reflection of the internal growth that was being experienced by participants in the ayahuasca ceremonies. Growth, he said, can only occur when you push on the boundaries, challenging them to expand beyond what is comfortable. He explained that, just as those who inhabited the Temple were all undergoing processes of clearing away the ‘onion layers’ and thus encouraging access to the unlimited potential of deeper consciousness, so too were the resources of the Temple being pushed just beyond their capacity, in order to encourage the ultimate goals of management to establish a self-funding and self-sustainable site. Staff and finances, in particular, were being stretched to their limits in pursuit of these goals.

Douglas (2008 [1966]), discussed above, suggests that boundaries are necessary to maintain order. While order represents a pattern, she explains, disorder can be recognised in terms of its potential for infinite new patterns, so when an individual reaches somehow beyond established and accepted boundaries—either within society or within the realms of the mind—they access a place of both power and of danger, not only relevant to themselves, but potentially to the whole of their society. She argues:

Ritual recognises the potency of disorder. In the disorder of the mind, in dreams, faints and frenzies, ritual expects to find powers and truths which cannot be reached by conscious effort (2008 [1966]: 117).

Shamanic techniques, she notes, can often act to facilitate access to previously inaccessible realms. One of the pasajeros, Stuart (South Africa, 54, Engineer; [white] Shaman) identified these as the unbounded realms of consciousness:

Shamanism is so potent because it’s not bounded. There’s no boundaries to shamanism … It’s consciousness, you know.

For pasajeros, the inherent possibilities that lie within those potent realms can act to induce both longing and terror. Their approach to their own perceived boundaries, therefore, can be markedly different.

For Marco (UK, 35, Permaculturist), his relationship to his own perceived boundaries underwent a significant change as a result of his experiences in ceremony. He had previously

123 given considerable attention to this process as a result of his own experiences during his treatment for leukaemia before visiting the Temple:

Our comfort zone is like a soap bubble that, if we stay still, it slowly shrinks and contracts around us until … as that space reduces, we go more and more into the safer area in the middle until eventually, if you take it to its extreme, you’re this kind of foetal creature that’s completely weak and powerless and terrified of everything … So, it’s finding a way to actually not stay in the middle and just be passive, but to start to push gently at the edge of the bubble in a way that starts to expand the bubble without popping it. Because if you push too hard, you pop the bubble and just collapse, and the space in which you’re held just converts back to zero when you’ve got to start the whole process again … So its this idea of actually … pushing this bubble to keep it expanding, to expand your ability to operate without popping the bubble … Like in yoga, there’s the good pain and the bad pain. If you go to bad pain you sprain something … do damage and that’s not really what this work is about.

During his treatment for leukaemia, Marco revealed that his boundaries were severely constricted, both because of the extended periods of pain he endured, and as a result of the ongoing objectification he experienced in a hospital system where he felt his personhood was reduced to an accumulation of misbehaving organs and flesh. In order to survive his ordeal, he discussed the need to withdraw deeply inward behind strong boundaries ‘to shut off to pain, shut off to suffering, shut off to sadness and loss’. He continued: ‘Of course when you do that, you also shut yourself off to love, to joy, to hope, to creativity, and you just become this grey bubble’. Marco recalled one of his ceremonies in which the effects of the ayahuasca took him strongly beyond his zone of comfort while simultaneously preventing him from retreating into his inner sanctuary. He recalled: ‘there’s nowhere to run, there’s nowhere to hide. You just have to face it’. During that ceremony, Marco’s protective barriers were obliterated, leaving him and his inner environment entirely exposed. As a result, his relationship with his ‘bubble’ was transformed. While it was terrifying for him as the experience unfolded, he learned that ‘there’s actually nothing to worry about; that I can face it’. He explained that as a result of becoming aware of his inner protections, ‘the gremlins aren’t running the show so much any more’. His boundaries of the Self were free to expand once his protective barriers were eradicated.

Revealing some marked contrasts to this experience, Hans (Germany, 36, Physician) perceived that the boundaries of his conscious awareness represented something that stood in the way of his spiritual growth. Consequently, they were something he had historically worked hard to obliterate. As with Marco, Hans’ experience with ayahuasca acted to entirely redefine his relationship with his boundaries:

124 The fifth ceremony was too much. I felt too good after the fourth one. I saw God. [So] I tried [to see] how far I can get … It was always my problem, you know? Even taking drugs, or when I started drinking beer, or whatever I did, you know? Without borders … That night I was thinking ‘I gonna die’ … I was shaking, I was sweating, I was throwing up … it was so intense … I was lying there and was just like crying; just asking for help … I was so scared, you know. I had that intense feeling of really getting lost. Then I started, like, trying to figure out who I really was, and I couldn’t ... It was terrifying.

Similarly to Jeff (above), Hans posited the ego as a barrier to his authentic Self. When he perceived its absence, however, he described his fear of losing himself, his education, and his ability to return to his life. As with Marco, it was initially a terrifying experience. The result, however, was a novel understanding for him that boundaries have a purpose, and need to be approached with respect. As he pieced himself back together the next day, he decided to take just a small dose of ayahuasca in the following ceremony. That night, he said, he felt deep love. Ayahuasca came to him and they played together. He spoke to Her about his new understanding, his realisation that he went ‘to the border’ too much in his life and that he needed to make new decisions. Previously he would aim to ‘blow away’ his suffering, but in obliterating his ‘borders’ on the previous night he realised that the psychedelic experience is capable of inducing new experiences of trauma. As a result, his intense fear and discomfort coached him toward temperance. On the day after his sixth ceremony, he said: ‘today I’m great. Just, no weight on my shoulders. Nothing. It’s beautiful’. Ultimately Hans came to understand, like Michaela (above), that boundaries were an important element for locating the embodied Self.

Liam (Australia, 21, Camp Attendant) was another who perceived the loss of his bounded Self. As he navigated the experience of ‘losing his mind’ and explored what lay beyond, however, he came to the view that the relative ‘location’ of his boundaries was ultimately under his control:

I lost my mind! It was beautiful. I was so deep in it that I lost my body. And then I lost my grasp on my thoughts and I lost all my memories. So I was in ceremony, and I was like: ‘Where the fuck am I? Where am I? Who am I? What’s “who”? Why “who”?’ And then like fleeting memories would come back. I knew that I’d been overseas. I was trying to grasp this concept of Germany: ‘They’ve got another language; what’s this “language” thing? … So! We talk. Who’s “we”? And “people” and “money”?’ …These normal things were dissolved. I was freed from them, those restraints. Restraints on ‘me’, if you want to call that the ego … It was utter bliss. And as I came back I saw how they fitted in. And I could take them off and put them on, and I slowly rebuilt ‘me’ over the night but I

125 saw it as not a concrete thing. It was just a concept that I didn’t have to be so worried about. It was an amazing experience.

Reconceptualising his understanding of the mind as well as his perception of socially constructed labels—‘language’, ‘people’, ‘money’—as something he can take off and put back on gave Liam a way to both understand and to manage the debilitating social anxiety, depression and self-hatred he was aiming to heal. He experienced the loss of both mind and body and, as Douglas (2008 [1966]: 117) suggests is possible, he came back from those unstructured realms with insights that allowed new ‘patterning’ of the Self that acted to change the shape of his reality. For him, it was an empowering experience.

The focus on pushing or obliterating boundaries as a necessary path for healing, while reflected throughout the Temple grounds at the time, was considered by some visitors to represent a blatant contradiction to the Temple’s claim to embrace the ‘Divine Feminine’ (see Temple of the Way of Light, 2017f). Katrina (USA, 55, ‘Facilitator of the Heart’), for example, rejected the notion that boundaries need to be pushed in order to facilitate growth:

[Staff at the Temple] don’t share a lot with you, because they want to push your edge. I’m not big on pushing edges on things like this. In life in general, I think we’ve been forced and we don’t trust our instincts. This is what I strongly want changed for parents and children … It’s a masculine energy actually, not feminine to me.

For Katrina, discourses that encourage a forceful approach to growth and healing are decidedly masculine, emerging from the premise that more is better. For her this was a ‘disruptive’ approach. Work with the psyche and with the spirit, she indicated, requires nurturing, tolerance and a gentle acceptance. While this was indeed a foundational understanding for many people, the examples I have provided here indicate that experiences of the ‘appropriate’ application of ‘force’ upon both boundaries and barriers are as unique for each individual as the circumstances that brought them to the Temple. For some, force is necessary to surpass their fears while for others too much force represents danger that holds the potential for further traumatisation. The experience for the majority of pasajeros resonated with the maxim that is often repeated throughout the world of ayahuasca healing: that ‘you may not get what you want, but ayahuasca will give you what you need’. I did note, however, that there were two particular forms of ‘boundary’ or ‘barrier’ that proved consistently resistant to allowing breakthroughs into the kind of experiences I will explore in the following chapters. Below, I discuss a barrier arising from the appropriation of blame and responsibility that I observed in pasajeros who saw themselves as ‘victims’ of external circumstances. In Chapter 6, I will explore the barrier identified by pasajeros relating to the workings of the intellectual mind.

126 A RECALCITRANT BARRIER: THE VICTIM

In the majority of cases, pasajeros experienced a purging of unwanted (‘negative’) energies or disruptive causal imprints, reportedly removing or at least mitigating what I have called ‘barriers’ to living a harmonious life. This act was often (although not always) accompanied by insights and sometimes-profound lessons for the pasajero as they acted to make new meaning in order to (re)interpret past experiences and traumas. In some cases, however, the practices of making meaning of new insights led to the internalisation of ideas that acted to increase dissonance and separation. While it was common for nearly all participants in ayahuasca ceremonies to experience severe levels of discomfort and nausea, at least momentarily, those who interpreted their experiences to mean that they needed to increase the protections they had established as safeguards against external influences (from people and the environment)—those who recognised themselves as ‘victims’ of the actions of Others—tended to report more extreme levels of ongoing discomfort and struggle throughout their time at the Temple, both within and outside of ceremony.

The Temple website refers to this potential outcome, revealing it as a pervasive one for many pasajeros:

We can also often receive ‘visions’ in ceremony that seem to represent external issues, people or spirits attempting to affect us. Most often, though, these visions are a projection of our internal issues. Our minds cannot interpret the pain, negative energy and difficult emotions that the medicine is mirroring, so they project the inner experience onto a vision that puts the blame or reason outside of ourselves … projection is a defense mechanism against difficult childhood memories that an external event or agent has caused us to reflect upon.

This is so common that it is worth reiterating … We see the world through our own eyes. When the energies have been cleaned from our systems, our visions change and we no longer project our ‘inner demons’ onto the external world (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017a).

This understanding represents an idea that is pervasive throughout many psychotherapeutic, holistic, and New Age discourses that embrace radical self-responsibility in determining causal influences for life’s circumstances. It was pervasive in the approaches of the majority of pasajeros at the Temple, albeit to varying degrees. Some individuals understood themselves as being entirely responsible for their manifest existence, recognising their personal consciousness as the creator of both their internal and external environment (see ‘Quantum Physics’ discourse in Chapter 7). For others who did not accept that they necessarily create what is ‘other’ in their life, many recognised themselves in terms of energetic fields (often ‘karmic’ forces; see 127 ‘Eastern Mysticism’ discourse in Chapter 7) that acted to attract and repulse certain people and events as a result of past and present thoughts and actions. Others still, while not necessarily embracing ideals of personal power and responsibility regarding their external surroundings, maintained that, irrelevant of external events, they could choose how to respond. In each of these cases, a pervasive underlying understanding was that a loving, compassionate, accepting disposition toward life as a whole is optimal for producing the greatest levels of wellbeing.

Simon (USA, 60, Workshop Facilitator) described his understanding of personal responsibility based on his own life experiences as well as his work at home, facilitating workshops for Jewish men:

Spirituality is the experience of the underlying wholeness, and unless you embrace your own pain, that box is always outside of my own wholeness … you have to see [your pain] for what it is … ‘embrace it’ doesn’t mean identify with it, like, ‘I’m a victim’ … I can’t let it seep in … I watched this mother-fucker rape my whole family and I realised that I’m letting this phantom into my own house [in the ways I protect myself from the pain through food, alcohol, etc.] … I run experiential workshops for men … Often some guy will come in and he’s been molested or something, and for the most part they need to resonate to their power. They spend their whole lives being victims and I see the other side of that now … I’m so ready to move on from this now because I’ve seen it in a greater context. [Ayahuasca] showed me in a way that I can see, not the necessity of it, but the blessing in it … She showed me that [the molester] was so evil that I think it’ll keep me grounded, even in the ecstasy. It will keep me individuated.

In this case, Simon came to understand that the man who had molested him when he was a child, and who had caused great harm to many others in his family, was actually necessary for him to remain on earth in embodied form, which, for him, required him to retain an internal barrier of sorts in order to prevent a total ‘reunion’ with God (see Chapter 6 for further exploration of this). To identify as a victim for Simon, however, was a way to effectively bestow power onto a perpetrator indefinitely. While the understanding he came to—that the evil had allowed him to continue to live on the Earth—was unique, this movement toward outcomes that encourage acceptance and self-empowerment were prolific at the Temple and tended to reflect the trajectory that ayahuasca discourses there encouraged.

The Temple’s suggestion that internal cleansing results in changes to the external environment reveals similar understandings. In this iteration of a self-responsibility approach, reactions to others inclusive of anger, jealousy, condemnation, and any other emotions considered ‘negative’ were posited as ‘just your stuff’ that was surfacing to be healed. This reflects an observation made by Jeronimo et al. (2017: 3) who state: 128 the encounter with ayahuasca was not unlike hitting a mirror while running at full speed. Ayahuasca forced them to stop and look at themselves. It hurt. However, taking a long, hard look helped them turn around and stop destroying themselves. That is how ayahuasca works. It works by showing; by making people aware, like a mirror for our soul.

In this understanding, what is happening in the external environment is considered less relevant than the way a person responds to it. When someone is ‘triggered’ by the words and actions of others, it is posited as a result of their own unresolved issues or energetic residue that needs to be cleansed. Many people arrived at the Temple already embracing this notion, while others tended to quickly adopt it, and they would often use their communal interactions to guide their intentions for healing in ceremony. Those who responded to adverse circumstances by increasing the protection of themselves from others, however, often reported enduring misery, both within and outside of ceremonies. While their ceremonies tended to be more consistently ‘war-like’ or filled with memories that led them to feel ashamed or melancholy, they were also more likely to become quickly estranged from at least parts of their groups, often imposing isolation onto themselves which they would justify as an act of self-love. Judith (Canada, 57, retired), who had encountered problems with another woman in her work exchange group, stated that ayahuasca reminded her in ceremony that she was a loving and compassionate person. Consequently, she ‘realised’ that what she needed to do was remain as she was and to protect herself more vigilantly from the negativity of other people, who she posited as having problems that had nothing to do with her but were being projected onto her. Kylie (New Zealand, 51, Social Worker), the other woman involved, stated virtually the same thing— merely reversing the roles.

While this approach is markedly different from that encountered in Shipibo and mestizo environments, where war-like metaphors are predominant and protections an integral part of the practices, Westerners who consistently externalised blame for their circumstances—behaviour that is popularly referred to as ‘victim mentality’ in mental health discourses (e.g. Orloff, 2010)—constituted a ‘category’ of people who tended to have some of the most difficult ceremonies (and social interactions) on an ongoing basis.140 While for many pasajeros ayahuasca tended to work efficiently and decisively to instigate purging of ‘barriers’ from the body and the body-mind, for some, the rational, intellectual mind acted to impose ‘barrier-like’ interpretations onto the process. While the rational mind was undeniably affected by the unfolding events within ceremony—and was even experientially ‘obliterated’ at times—it remained a domain of free will. For those who had not previously adopted discourses

140 See Chapter 7 for an exploration of comparative epistemologies and ontologies.

129 incorporating self-responsibility, (re)education outside of ceremony—through discussions with others and through the extensive reading material available in the dining areas—tended to become an integral part of harmonising their thinking to coincide with ayahuasca’s actions of diminishing rather than fortifying barriers. Over the period of their 3-month stay at the Temple, both Judith and Kylie eventually began to speak of loving those that they perceived were harming them rather than judging them and protecting themselves from them, and gradually their barriers to each other began to dissipate. They were not, however, completely extinguished by the end of their stay. The ‘free will’ exercised by the intellectual mind, while moving more toward compliance with a loving approach, remained a pervasive influence. In Chapter 6, I explore this particularly recalcitrant barrier (and barrier-maker), and the experiences of pasajeros, both as they navigated it, and when they felt they had come to better comprehend its actions.

CONCLUSION

Historical modes of individuation and the subsequent development of hierarchical relationality in Western culture have evidently infiltrated the psyche, and thus the phenomenological perceptions of the Self for its increasingly individuated members. Consequently, many pasajeros are experiencing a sense of isolation, which they identify as pathogenic. In this chapter, I have explored how this sense of separation is experienced, with a focus on the internal schism that is identified by pasajeros, between the everyday, lived experience of the Self, and the ‘pure’ essence of the Self that many intuit or believe exists at their core. Mead’s concept of ‘Me’ and ‘I’, as well as Buber’s I-It and I-Thou are helpful in contextualising these aspects. While both Mead and Buber posit that the latter of their categories can be known only reflexively, pasajeros’ descriptions indicate that the ‘foundational’ aspect of themselves can be experienced directly when their existential boundaries and accumulated barriers are managed in specific ways.

I suggest that there is a perceptual and experiential difference between boundaries of, and barriers within, the Self. Boundaries, I suggest, represent the ‘edges of perception’ and/or ‘the edges of the Self’. In some circumstances, boundaries are perceived as important protectors that establish a sense of surety in form and identity that need to be maintained and worked within for effective navigation of the material world. For others, boundaries must be gently and consistently nudged outward so as not to cause an effective strangulation of lived existence. For many, they are veritable pests—representative of the separated ego that needs to be eradicated so that the essential nature of the Self can be lived in present time. This latter interpretation of the bounded self tends to posit the existential aspect of the self more in terms of a ‘barrier’ to wellbeing. 130 Barriers, in this conceptualisation, are usually posited in terms of ‘imprints’ or energetic residue residing in the often-inaccessible regions of the existential self—the subconscious or the body- mind. These imprints are often conceived of in terms of ‘pollutants’ that compromise the purity of the essential Self—as ‘shadows’ or blockages and/or interruptions that act to create a lack of wellbeing in lived experience. In this conceptualisation, not all imprints are rendered equal. Only those that are perceived as ‘negative’—residual traumas, negative emotions, and resulting protections that are created by the (existential) self—are targeted for eradication. To combine the language of Mead with that of the Temple, ‘I’ becomes overlain by the ‘onion layers’ of ‘negative’ experience that become evident to ‘Me’ via access to the memories that first acted to create them. These ‘onion layers’ act as agents of concealment—‘layers’ that exist between conscious awareness and the essential nature of the Self, thus rendering the self, it-self, as a problematic locus. For some, the aim is the obliteration of the (ego) self, however this notion does not usually incorporate a desire for physical death. Rather, the indication emergent here is that ‘positive’ experiences, emotions, thoughts, and deeds resonate with the essence of the pure Self and are thus beneficial (or at least, acceptable) to retain. The notion of ‘getting out of my own way’ similarly suggests that it is the focus on intellectualising and controlling circumstances—actions that are utilised to mitigate possible ‘negative’ outcomes—that are tagged as problematic. The re-establishment of ultimate ‘wellbeing’, then, involves the removal or integration, only of the ‘negative’ imprints in order to allow (re)connection of experientially disparate parts of the Self as the existential self moves more toward a state of ‘purity’. For some, it could be argued that this represents a symbolic death for the existential self as it effectively ‘merges’ with its essential nature, while for others—I would argue the majority who described the Self in these terms—it represents purification of the self that allows their essential nature to flow through into experiences of ordinary consciousness.

Pasajeros indicate that Ayahuasca’s actions can potentially be multiple in enacting these outcomes: it can expand, reveal, teach, and cleanse. In many cases it instigates all of these phases. It acts to facilitate expansion or transcendence of the ‘boundaries’ of ordinary consciousness, potentially allowing ‘barriers’ that reside in ordinarily inaccessible realms of the self to be identified, reconceptualised, and then removed. These actions do not occur in isolation from other aspects of the Self, however, but rather in relationship with it. The intellectual mind, in particular, retains the powers of navigation. Many times, this relationship is maintained within ceremony, allowing meaning-making to occur in present time; and even in cases when the intellect is rendered effectively inactive during (a particularly ‘strong’) ceremony, its reflexive actions to make meaning of the ceremonial experiences remain significant in determining eventual outcomes.

131 While the concepts of Jackson (1983a, 1983b) and Csordas (1990) incorporate notions of the body in terms of both subject and object, as agentive and receptive, and, particularly in Csordas’ representation, as a locus within which both conscious and subconscious influences are combined and navigated, my aim in this chapter has been to further develop these representations of the body by exploring how the Self is experienced as/by/within the body in the process of ‘healing’. I suggest that the body and the Self—the embodied Self—are often experienced as loci of energy, and/or of energetic imprints. Pasajeros reveal a state of dissonance between aspects of the Self to some degree. For some, there is an experiential schism between the body and mind, particularly in cases where severe trauma has occurred—the ‘intelligence’ of the body-mind in these cases is thus unavailable; the Self not experientially complete. For most, there is some sense of disconnection between the experience of living the existential self and the (usually only intuited) essential nature of the Self. Dissonance and/or disconnection between any of these parts—although variously described—is regularly perceived as problematic in its function to manifest dis-ease.

In the examples cited in this chapter the often-utilised distinctions between the body, mind, and emotions become less evident when the Self is experienced in these terms. Within ceremony, ‘negative imprints’ are regularly ‘lived’ in terms of a disruption to these categories as an intermingled whole. Trauma in the body is experienced equally as trauma in the mind (relating to ways of intellectual thinking) and emotional trauma, all inextricably linked in the experience of dis-eased self. The spirit, however, appears to be the aspect that is regularly posited as the separated aspect of the Self as a whole—pure and inaccessible. The movement toward (re)intergration of spirit with body, mind, and emotions appears to provide impetus in the actions of ayahuasca in relationship with the Self as a whole—returning to wholeness. Invariably, this happens through the (intelligent) body. While this representation allows for the continued conceptualisation of a self-with-boundaries to the degree that the Self remains separable from Other (retaining perceptual ‘edges’), I suggest that the Self in a state of wellness is better conceived, not as ‘bounded’, but rather in terms of a ‘Self-without-barriers’.

To further explore the experience of the various aspects of the Self through its relationship with Ayahuasca, I will, in the next chapter, focus on relationships and interactions between the Self and multiple forms of Other.

132 CHAPTER 5: LIVING THROUGH THE SELF

In the previous chapter, I focused on the culturally constructed ‘Western’ self and the suggestion by many pasajeros that the focus on individualism, hierarchical relationship, secularism, and reductionism in Western culture is often reflected in their internal relationships between aspects of the Self. In this chapter, I will explore the experiences of pasajeros in relation to multiple forms of Other, with a focus on the Self as a matrix of interrelationship, to explore perceptual boundaries and barriers of the Self in terms of their ‘relative permeability’ in relation to both the inner and outer worlds.

To facilitate this exploration, I will outline the pervasive view of many pasajeros that ‘our culture is broken’, with a particular focus on experiential disconnection from Other and the consequential effects of this that pasajeros perceive for their health and wellbeing. Through the lenses of Mauss’ (1966 [1954]) notion of ‘essence’ in reference to gift exchange, as well as the work of Marriott (1976a) and Strathern (1988) on dividuality and partibility, I will explore the roles of the maestr@s in navigating and facilitating multiple connections, and then provide descriptions of self-exploration and healing experiences through the centrality of relationship— to other individuals, to Nature and the elemental spirits, to disparate parts of the Self, and to God (however known/named).

OUR CULTURE IS BROKEN

This fascination with what is called shamanism is occurring in the Western world and seems to be a response to our malnourished spirits that long for connection with the greater web of life and the meaning that comes from that connection. Temple of the Way of Light (2009d)

Deborah Lupton (2012: 1) opens her exploration on Medicine as Culture by stating: ‘Western societies in the early 21st century are characterized by people’s increasing disillusionment with scientific medicine.’ The medical system, I found, was just one of several that caused consternation for pasajeros. A question that I asked in all interviews was: ‘Why, with all of the healing modalities available in our own culture, do you think people are seeking healing in the Amazon jungle with ayahuasca?’ and one of most common responses centred around the theme that ‘our culture is broken’. When explaining this, pasajeros repeatedly lamented that Westerners are disconnected and effectively isolated—from each other, from Nature, from

133 Spirit—and that this disconnection is the root cause of most illness, dis-ease and malaise. David (USA, 31, Business Owner), for example, stated:

I think that people are waking up to the fact that they’re sick, that the culture in a way is sick. I’ve always felt there was something wrong with Western society, and not being connected … and being consumed with the material world.

Similarly, Mary (USA, 47, Psychologist) answered:

The first word that pops into my mind is that they feel disconnected … And I think a lot of Western culture is around independence and isolation and achievement and there’s not a space to be vulnerable … And, there’s a lot of, I think, organised religion … which leaves people disconnected from their sense of spirituality.

Both David and Mary reflect the impressions provided on the Temple website that Westerners effectively suffer from culturally induced ‘malnourished spirits’, and have consequently developed a deep longing for reconnection. Pasajeros particularly highlighted the effects of capitalism, and the materialism and individualism intrinsic to it, as causal.

Information on the Temple website suggests that the need for connection is ‘encoded’ within ‘our very DNA’, and that re-establishing these connections with ‘individual manifestations’ of spirit (i.e. other living beings) through the realms of spirit acts to reveal purpose and meaning in life as the ‘true nature’ of the Self is revealed (Temple of the Way of Light, 2009d). Tom (UK, 19, Graphic Design Student) reflected similar ideas as he pondered the ‘input of negativity going into our bodies and our minds’ from sources such as the mass media, chemicals, and adulterated foods:

We have lost touch with Nature and what we really are. And [what we are] is just Nature. And we kind of see ourselves as something fragmented from that … And through that we’ve sort of lost the spiritual connection which is necessary for our bodies and minds to function properly … and there’s this kind of sense of just being lost.

This fragmentation between the concept of ‘what we are’ and the environment within and of which we are constituted, is, for Bateson (1987 [1972]: 490) epistemologically problematic:

when you separate mind from the structure in which it is immanent, such as human relationship, the human society, or the ecosystem, you thereby embark, I believe, on fundamental error, which in the end will surely hurt you.

Like David and Mary, Tom positions Western culture as one that encourages this very disconnection. Consequently, it is understood to be pathogenic. The ‘bounded’ and separated Self posited by Geertz (1975a: 48) is revealed as a lived experience for pasajeros. As outlined

134 in Chapter 4, they indicate that the most fundamental separation occurs not just in relation to external Others, but involves an intrinsic rupture of the Self from the ‘spirit’ that exists within. These multiple breaches, they indicate, can manifest physically, mentally, and emotionally as various forms of dis-ease.

That the sense of separation can drive participation in ayahuasca ceremonies is not a new insight. Dobkin de Rios (1994: 6) noted a similar theme in the earliest days of ‘drug tourism’ in Iquitos:

In this postmodern period, where people no longer produce their own food, where the family has broken down, where there is a significant absence of community tradition and shared meanings, individuals are racked with feelings of low self-esteem and confusion about values.

For many pasajeros, such as Haley (Netherlands, 41, Health Worker), previous attempts to fill the empty spaces led to mental health issues and addictive behaviours:

I was so very, very, very depressed when I came here. I did my best for so long and I worked so hard and I did nice stuff in my life but I really felt so alone, not connected. I had a lot of addictions … I was always searching for the ultimate experience outside of me. I couldn’t sleep … I was in the city doing what I’m supposed to do, but I felt so heavy and so lost.

Haley spoke of her daily use of marijuana, regular use of hard drugs, addiction to sleeping pills, and sex addiction. According to Mäkelä (1991: 1406), the association between disconnection and addiction has long been recognised. ‘Within addiction literature’, he observes, ‘heavy drinkers are often portrayed as “individual atoms cut off from their social matrix”’. Alexander (2008: 3) posits ‘a worldwide rending of the social fabric’ as people are increasingly ‘being torn from the close ties to family, culture, and traditional spirituality that constituted the normal fabric of life in pre-modern times.’ Canadian physician Gabor Maté (2008: 36), an advocate of the use of ayahuasca as a form of addiction treatment, notes:

The very same brain centers that interpret and “feel” physical pain also become activated during the experience of emotional rejection: on brain scans they “light up” in response to social ostracism just as they would when triggered by physically harmful stimuli.

For pasajeros, the desire to experience some form of connection emerged as a consistent aspiration, and it is one that ayahuasca literature widely endorses as a possibility. Shanon (2010a: 205), for example, states: ‘Under the effect of Ayahuasca both connectedness and its role in the gaining of knowledge are directly experienced’ as the ‘differentiation between the inner and outer worlds’ weakens and a ‘strong affinity, blending, identification, and even

135 unification with what ordinarily is “other”’ is encouraged. To explore the experiences of pasajeros in this context, it is helpful to consider notions of the Self that provide contrasts to Geertz’s representation of the Westerner; to incorporate experiences of being human that acknowledge such ‘blending’ with ‘Other’ as a foundational premise in the constitution of the Self existent within an interconnected world.

DIVIDUALITY, PARTIBILITY, PERMEABILITY, ESSENCE

In Chapter 4, I explored experiential accounts in which pasajeros recognised the Self as fundamentally ‘pure’ in its primary state while being susceptible, as a locus of lived experience, to ‘negative energetic imprints’ in the embodied state. These imprints are usually represented as the results of social interactions that have been effectively ‘absorbed’ by an individual. Theorists throughout the social sciences (e.g. Csordas, 1990; Douglas, 1996 [1970]; Elias, 1994; Husserl, 2002 [1931]; Lupton, 2012; Mead, 1934; Scheper-Hughes and Lock, 1987; Van Wolputte, 2004), psychology (e.g. Ainsworth and Bowlby, 1991; Baumeister, 1998; Johnson, 2011), philosophy (e.g. Deleuze and Guattari, 1983), and addiction (e.g. Mäkelä, 1991; Maté, 2008) recognise the effects of socialisation as central to the formation of identity. Considered in this context, the Self can be posited as a construction that integrates many Others. In their volume on The Anthropology of Empathy, Hollan and Throop (2011) identify a renewed focus on the centrality of empathy in anthropology that has emerged since the recent discovery of ‘mirror-neurons’ in the human brain. Iacoboni (in Hollan and Throop, 2011: 1) states that these motor neurons ‘fire, without causing movement, merely upon observation of another’s actions, in a mirror-like, imitative way’, suggesting that the Self embodies Other on an ongoing basis. In the context of plant medicine healing, residual imprints that are identified as ‘negative’—‘parts’ that are held within that do not resonate with the state of the Self when experiencing ‘wellness’—are typically held responsible for problematic consequences in daily life. This understanding of the Self in parts, many of which are ‘created’ within the context of socialisation, ‘layered upon’ the pure essence of the Self, resonates with anthropological understandings of personhood as expressed in discourses on dividuality and partibility.

In his publication on The Gift, Mauss (1966 [1954]) first introduced his insights on the significance of Forms and Functions of Gift Exchange in Archaic Societies, positioning reciprocity as a central element in constructs of the Self as a social being. One of his insights that has inspired further development through ethnographic exploration involves the suggestion that articles of exchange—deemed relatively latent commodities in Western ontologies—can be agentive. (Mauss, 1966 [1954]: 10) states that:

136 to give something is to give a part of oneself … one gives away what is in reality part of one’s nature and substance, while to receive something is to receive a part of someone’s spiritual essence … The thing given is not inert.

The idea that practices of exchange incorporate ‘parts’ of persons which are transmitted to and from each other has formed the basis of the notion of ‘dividuality’ that has developed in analyses emergent from India (Marriott, 1976a, 1976b) and Melanesia (Strathern, 1988).141 In her work, Strathern describes the Melanesian Self as ‘multiply-authored’ (1988: 159), and the body as ‘composite’ (2004: 16), effectively constituted of the objects and actions of others that are shared in the course of relationship. Similarly, Marriott (1976a: 111) proffers the Hindu Self as comprised of the mutual transference of ‘coded substances—essences, residues, or other active influences such as blood, food and knowledge’. The essence of the giver in these instances—their intentions, their actions, and efforts—cannot be extricated from the object/s of exchange. The ‘spiritual essence’ of the transacted substance—whether of a physical object or of something more intangible such as ‘knowledge’—represents part of the giver that merges with, and subsequently becomes part of the spiritual essence of the receiver. In this way, individuals are inextricably intermingled. Marriott (1976a: 111) notes that as a result, the particular ‘nature’ of one Self can then become manifest through another.

This understanding suggests an ontology conceiving of a person in terms of parts that can be separated out from one and incorporated into the identity of another, rendering each individual Self ‘as a social microcosm’ (Strathern, 1988: 13) in the constant process of modification. In such ontological understandings, ‘there is no clear separation of persons from things, or subjects from objects’ (Mosko, 2001: 260) as sociology and biology effectively become indistinguishable (Ingold, 1991: 326).142 In his application of this notion to conceptualisations of personhood in Amazonian cultures, Vilaça (2011: 246) notes that animals and spirits similarly cross the boundaries of personhood in intertwined relationships constituting the greater web of Nature. While he recognises that such notions insinuate ‘instability’ for the continually adaptive person, he contends that such conceptualisations of personhood contain great ‘transformative potential’ (Vilaça, 2011: 246). Placed into these contexts, the notion of ‘medicine’ then, can be seen to similarly incorporate modes of energetic transferences.

141 Also see Scheper-Hughes and Lock (1987) for variations of this theme throughout Indigenous cultures around the world. 142 In cases where the manufacturer of goods is not known, as is often the case in ‘consumerist societies’, Smith (2012: 55) notes that the modern consumer still participates in continual reconceptualisation of the Self through the disposal of old and acquisition of new goods.

137 In the next section, I will explore the work carried out by the maestr@s and their application of medicine through the lens of what Marriott (1976b: 194) refers to as ‘permeable, composite, partly divisible, and partly transmissible’ selves.

THROUGH THE REALMS OF MAESTR@S

As I outlined in Chapter 3, the Shipibo recognise most dis-ease in terms of social disruption. In Shipibo understandings, dis-ease is a result of energetic disturbances inflicted by malicious thoughts and intentions of another. During both the acquisition and application of their skills to enact ‘curing’ of both physical and social ailments (Brabec de Mori, 2009: 124), a maestr@ must traverse many boundaries of multiple Selves in an intricate blend of entangled relationship. Both at their boundaries and through them-Selves, maestr@s navigate realms of consciousness in a constant process of (re)creation of Self in relationship to Other. They are required to continually redefine their boundaries in the perpetual present, to both allow and repel possible connections with both benevolent and malevolent spirits, and with their patients, remaining relatively porous to some while defiantly unyielding to others. Indeed, their efficacy, personal health, and reputation depend on it. As a strong manipulator of boundaries, their use of ayahuasca is central to these processes.

Accounts given by pasajeros insinuate that ayahuasca temporarily affects the ‘boundaries’ or perceptual ‘edges’ of Self-awareness. As a result, awareness may permeate—or ‘open to’— the realms of spirit and/or, as some conceptualised it, interaction through the realms of energy. Simultaneously, the world of spirits (or various forms of energy) can be experienced as infiltrating the Self. In this way, applied techniques of the (vibrational) ikaros and the (physical- vibrational) mapacho smoke can create a sensory experience of ‘Other’ moving through the ‘Self’, with each recognised as being infiltrated with ‘the essence’ of the plant spirit that infuses the maestr@ (as a result of their dietas) and is activated by the maestr@s intention.143 In this way, medicine is applied. Applications of the soplar (blowing) and the chupar (sucking) similarly require permeable boundaries and permeable Selves to be rendered effective as physical techniques that influence immaterial disturbances. To affect this process, each discrete being involved must necessarily be changed by an-Other.

As discussed in Chapter 3, the dieta is essential for a maestr@ to establish relationships within the spirit world. Fundamental to the success of a dieta is the initiation of relationship between the apprentice maestr@ and the spirits of the plants they are dieting. In order to achieve this, it

143 See Sharrock (in press) for further exploration on the relationship between Mapacho and the Self.

138 is not enough for the apprentice’s maestro to establish connection in the realms of spirit only.144 Rather, the apprentice must ingest the plant, taking it inside the physical body in its physical form for at least a short period of time. Only then can ongoing relationship be maintained; only then can the spirit gain access to the apprentice through their dreams; and only then can the apprentice call on the spirit when the state of his or her perceptual boundaries allows access, usually through the use of ayahuasca or mapacho. By imbibing the plant, then, the apprentice undergoes an integral change, being subsequently able to access information and new powers to heal that were previously unavailable to them. In most cases, they no longer have to physically imbibe the plants to apply these new abilities. The plant has become part of them and part of their identity as a healer.145 Within ceremony, they can only apply the particular forms of medicine that they have internalised, or, to borrow from Mauss (1966 [1954]: 10), the plants that they have received the ‘spiritual essence’ of. The plant, too, is changed in its capacity to be activated into a form of medicine that is applicable to humans. Each is dependent upon the other for their efficacy, not working as discrete entities, but working as one through the maestr@, and entering together into the realms of the pasajero.

As the boundaries of the pasajero are permeated, their experiences reveal often-significant alterations to the Self that result from the penetration of the already-combined medicine of the plant spirits and the maestr@. With their own boundaries often profoundly altered, the pasajero, too, merges into the experience as their holistic Self becomes the terrain within which it unfolds. Pasajeros’ descriptions reveal that the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual aspects of Self can become virtually impossible to separate, each potentially undergoing transformation as part of the others, rendering their holistic being adapted by the infusion. It is particularly notable that through the practice of purging, previously incorporated ‘parts’ of the Self can be expelled from the body, in both their physical and energetic forms. Identity and lived experience are transformed as a result.

That the maestr@s recommend ongoing dieta restrictions and practices of protection after a workshop to safeguard the medicine suggests that it needs time to move beyond an introduced presence to become completely integrated ‘into the experience of the self’ (Mead, 1934: 135) over the long term. Reflecting an extension of the liminal phase into the timeframe after the ceremonies, the implication is that the medicine will ultimately become an integral part of the

144 The analysis in this section does not reflect Shipibo ontologies, but rather views the techniques of Amazonian shamanism through (Westernised) conceptual interpretations as outlined above. 145 Like the notion of ‘gnosis’ applied to the experiences of pasajeros in Chapter 4, the body of the apprentice becomes central to the process of ‘knowing’. That the physical ingestion of the plant is no longer required to reactivate this relationship once it is established, suggests that the plant’s ‘essence’, in Mauss’ (1966 [1954]: 10) terms—its ibo in Shipibo terms—has fundamentally changed the apprentice.

139 pasajero, no longer a separable entity that can be stolen by other practitioners or ‘lost’ or ‘shocked’ from the system (see Chapter 3). The medicine—comprised of the ‘essence’ of both the plant spirits and the maestr@s—becomes a new part of the pasajero’s being. The pasajero has been indelibly (inter)changed. They do not, however, necessarily need to ingest the plant medicine in its physical form for this to happen. The maestr@ instead provides the access, transacting in spiritual essence.

Michelle’s experience provides an example of how this can manifest within ceremony. Michelle (USA, 43) had experienced years of issues with her sinuses. Just before arriving at the Temple, she had been told that she would need to have an operation to remove a cyst. She described how, during one of her ceremonies, she became convinced that the maestr@s had completed the surgery for her through the energetic realms of the spirit world with the assistance of Ayahuasca. For Michelle, several maestr@s were involved in the unfolding of her ‘surgery’ which she felt was guided by Ayahuasca (which is often referred to at the Temple as ‘the surgeon general’ due to its foundational activity in allowing access to all of the other ‘plant doctors’). Michelle described how the first maestr@ brought her attention to the lump they would remove, the next ‘cut the thing out with a knife’ but left it ‘sitting in my brain’, while the third maestr@ ‘balanced’ her body.146 At that point Michelle recognised what the cyst represented: ‘It was all my unexpressed defiance and inability to say “no” at my Dad.’ Michelle wiped her forehead and found the ‘cyst’ in her hand along with ‘half my brain’. Ayahuasca told her to hold it until the next maestr@ came. Feeling tired, she lay down and ‘dropped’ the cyst in the process. She watched it go ‘down a spiral’ and disappear. The final maestr@ came and integrated the parts of her brain: ‘it was like the teeth of a comb’ going through her head. At the completion of that treatment, ‘Ayahuasca just said: “Excellent. Todo. This is all.” I was like, “this is all! OK! Wow, I just had this surgery!”’

Michelle’s description reveals an experience in which multiple players interacted to execute the ‘operation’ on her sinuses. While she spoke of multiple maestr@s, the management of her operation and the messages she heard throughout were always recognised through the voice of Ayahuasca. Michelle experienced her operation as a smooth progression of stages performed by Ayahuasca through the presence of the maestr@s. She posits the maestr@s as conduits for what she recognised as the most important primary connection between herself and Ayahuasca.

146 To clarify, at no time are implements such as knives used during ceremony. This was Michelle’s description of the energetic experience she was undergoing, a form of vision in which she was ‘operated on’.

140 Discussing her experience after that ceremony Michelle described the connection between the energetic and physical aspects of her-Self. She had experienced an operation that removed a cyst from her sinuses, even though no physical operation was performed. This ‘energetic’ operation in turn, did ultimately manifest physically:

Every second or third day I hack up this thing that comes out of me that looks like an ear. It’s always the same shape. It’s bizarre [starts croaking, clearing throat and losing voice]. And it’s been [clears throat] horrible [clears throat]. So it’s like [clears throat] OK, I get [clears throat] get rid of this, whatever it is, and now [high pitch, croaking] I don’t know what’s happening to my voice! [Clears throat; voice returns to normal].

Similarly to how Stephanie experienced a physical reaction resembling a miscarriage after energetically purging the memories of her previous abuses (see Chapter 4), Michelle’s ‘energetic’ operation was manifesting as a series of physical purges in the days that followed. Michelle underwent an integrated experience combining what Westerners commonly perceive as discrete parts of the Self. The emotional, rational and physical aspects of self were all closely intertwined in this account and Michelle experienced that her ‘cyst’ was made up of all of these. The sense of healing for her came once this ‘part’ of Michelle—one she sensed had manifested within relationship with her father—had been expelled.

While Michelle traversed through her own process of release, this is not always the case. Group facilitator, Alejandro, explained to one group that although it is uncommon for them to purge for themselves after so many years of drinking ayahuasca, maestr@s may choose to purge on behalf of their patient. He advised: ‘Be grateful. They are pulling out blocked energies and purging them for you.’ I heard another facilitator explain that this might happen when a maestr@ discerns that a blockage would be too difficult for the pasajero to process on their own and so decides to take it from them. While working in the spiritual realms, then, the maestr@s, too, can undergo physical change when they allow themselves to do so. By opening their boundaries in a way that allows the pasajero back through them, the maestr@s adapt in yet another way, within the realms of the (inter)relationship.

These forms of interaction did not only occur between the maestr@s, the medicine, and the pasajeros. Pasajeros, too, experienced similar kinds of ‘energetic’ connections with various Others they encountered during ceremonies.

PERMEATING THE ‘CULTURED’ SELF

As discussed in Chapter 4, when considered in terms of relative autonomy, extreme representations of Western individuation tend to incorporate the recognition of Selves as

141 detached, bounded, independent entities. Incorporated within this understanding are notions such as those expressed in Lévi-Bruhl’s (1985) representation of animistic ontologies, in which the tendency is to recognise relationship at all levels in terms of participation between discrete entities occurring at their boundaries, which may or may not have influence upon one another. Notions of dividuality, partibility, and multiply-authored selves, in comparison, allow for alternative conceptualisations of the Self that are helpful in exploring the states of altered perception elicited by ayahuasca and work with plant spirits. In this section, I will explore some examples in which categories of the unified Self are transcended through direct (inter)connections with Others normally recognised as separated from the individual.

CLAIRVOYANCE

In their exploration of ‘psychedelics and other spiritual technologies’, Strassman et al. (2008: 206) posit that ‘by consistently looking inward we can go beyond’ the compartmentalised Self existent within the bounds of a body. Such possibilities became apparent as some pasajeros reported experiencing forms of clairvoyance during their ceremonies, when they perceived themselves ‘tuning in’ to another person.147

During one of her ceremonies, Mary M. (USA, 47, Psychologist) reported engaging in a conversation with her niece who was at home in the United States. She was simultaneously being guided by a voice that was helping her to reconsider her relationship with her sister. She explained:

My sister and I … have a very hard time. She was pretty ill, psychologically, as a child. She was really bulimic and really abusive to me. And her daughter came to me [in ceremony] … She’s about 15 … She’s really strong and self-confident and It [Ayahuasca] said that she taught my sister how to have a heart and have empathy and compassion and love for someone else besides herself … And my niece asked me to help her. She said, ‘I can’t be the only one holding this any more … Can you help me hold it?’ … I haven’t really allowed [my sister] to be emotionally close to me ‘cause it hasn’t felt very trusting. But I think I can see a way to be close to her again.

Mary referred to ‘It’ and ‘She’ in this example, indicating that she perceived a voice that she attributed to Ayahuasca. She indicates here that the voice provided new insights, which allowed her to make new decisions about her relationships with both her sister and niece. While Mary

147 The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines clairvoyance as: ‘the ability to perceive matters beyond the range of ordinary perception.’

142 was reluctant throughout her interview to accept the presence of an external plant spirit, inclined instead to recognise any guiding voices she heard as emanating from deeper parts of her own subconscious, the fact that she learned novel information led her to allow the possibility of a discrete intelligence that was not her own. No such dilemma arose for Mary regarding the conversation with her niece, however. Her niece’s unexpected appearance in her visions was described in terms of a direct connection.148

The use of ayahuasca for the purpose of clairvoyance is common amongst Indigenous groups; indeed, the chemical compound now known as harmine in ayahuasca was originally called ‘telepathine’ for its ability to encourage clairvoyant and telepathic phenomena (Grob et al., 1996; Labate and Cavnar, 2014b). Harner (1973: 13; 168-9) provides several examples of shamanic journeys to visit distant people and places under ayahuasca’s influence. In those instances, while a shaman would ‘look’ at people to ascertain information on their activities, they did not tend to communicate with their object of investigation directly. The examples he describes involving direct communication tended instead to occur with entities in the spirit realm. Harner (1973: 13) says that the Cashinahua people of Peru recognise ‘“the dream spirit”—that part of the individual which leaves the body during sleep, intoxication, or unconsciousness’. He also shares an account of groups who would drink ayahuasca together and travel in unison to distant places (Harner, 1973: 169). The indication here is that when these phenomena involved others living in the physical realm, they tended only to incorporate the act of observation. Accounts given by some pasajeros, however, included experiences of reciprocal communication that sometimes occurred between embodied (living) people.

In some cases of perceived clairvoyance, pasajeros were able to share their visions and experiences with the other people that were involved. In some cases, they found verification of the validity of the communication they had experienced in ceremony. Like Mary, Nakita (USA, 42, Business Executive) experienced a connection during ceremony with a family member. She described how a maestra (in spirit) naming herself ‘the Mother of Creation’ came and took her (in spirit) to heal her mother who was, at that time, sleeping at home in the USA:

[The maestra] worked with me all night. And when I left the jungle at the end of the workshop, I called my Mom. She said, ‘Oh! I couldn’t wait to speak to you. I woke up the

148 When interactions such as Mary’s occur at the Temple, rather than being recognised as truly clairvoyant, they were instead often posited as symbolic experiences in which an individual was working through their own feelings and construing possible remedies for disharmony in their lives. I witnessed several situations in which a pasajero had a vision in ceremony that indicated a loved one had died. Facilitators would counsel that it was unlikely that the death had occurred in reality, indicating that the vision instead represented a manifestation of the pasajero’s fear. Invariably in the cases I witnessed, pasajeros later reported that the death they envisioned did not occur.

143 other night in the middle of the night and I swear you were in my room.’ And so for me that was a confirmation that this was real.

Saph (UK, 39, Construction Driver) offered another example. He was sitting next to an ex-US Marine during his ceremonies. The Marine had been in Iraq in 2003, ‘when they went in to take out Saddam Hussein’. Saph described a ‘psychic connection’ he experienced with this man one night in ceremony during which he saw ‘something that, in my wildest dreams, I could have never thought could possibly have happened out there’. He described a sequence of vivid images. In the first scene, he saw a group of commanding officers lamenting that they had neither the time nor resources to care for injured American Marines. A subsequent scene revealed equally concerned superiors who were lamenting that the morale of their men was waning due to the lack of military action. The scenario returned to the first group when Saph saw the superiors planning to get the injured men out of Iraq by dressing them in civilian clothes and sneaking them away. He described how the two groups came together:

So they’re trusting their superiors, like, you do what they say [but] when they went out they just got blown to shit … And, what it was is that all the Marines were being set up and they were using their own men as target practice, but neither side knew what was happening, apart from the superiors. My heart sank.

Saph later found an opportunity to relate his visions to the man who had been next to him:

He says, ‘Yeah, that happened. Yeah, I saw that shit.’ … So like I was going, ‘wow!’ So like I really did connect with him, yeah, and I took one of his memories.

In this case, the man that Saph connected with was not aware of what was unfolding. In one of Haley’s ceremonies, however, she spoke of an experience that was shared between herself and a man who was lying next to her in ceremony:

After a while … I wake up a little bit, then it was like ‘where is … the guy who is lying next to me?’ I sensed that he was lost and that he was far away in a dark place, and my spirit start searching for him, and then I throw out a lifeline full of love and light and then I felt he could grab it. He came back and then we talked to each other in this telepathic way and I told him Ayahuasca give me healing hands and I think I can do something and I thought he had pain on his back so … I asked him if it’s OK to put my hand there … all in my head …Then we talked again and then we decided to wake up. We were lying in front of each other and we were like ‘OK, we open our eyes now’ and then poof and he opened his eyes also and I was looking, like, was it true? Was it really? And he said, ‘YES!’ So we went outside and then we talked about it and it was really true that we had this connection, that he felt me … it was like, oh my god, this is really amazing.

144 While each of these cases reveal differing levels of connection, the ability to extend beyond previously recognised boundaries of the Self and reach into an-Other was consistently expressed in terms of what Van Der Leeuw (1964: 23) identifies as ‘amazement’. From his work in Melanesia, Van Der Leeuw (1964: 23) suggests that, without a firm conceptualisation of God, the ‘highly exceptional and extremely impressive “Other”’ can be experienced as a manifestation of ‘Power’ derived from the ‘departure from all that is usual and familiar’ and thus recognised in terms of Divinity. For pasajeros, recognition of their own personal power— and thus their self-conception or identity—tended to transform in response to these extra- ordinary experiences. Reflecting the Melanesian notion of mana (relating to spiritual efficacy or supernatural power), Van Der Leeuw (1964: 28) states that ‘Power’ in this context is regarded, ‘not indeed as supernatural, but as extraordinary’. ‘[O]bjects and persons endowed with this potency’, he says, recognise it in terms of ‘that essential nature of their own which we call “sacred”’ (Van Der Leeuw, 1964: 28).

For pasajeros, where calls to action and/or acts of healing were involved, this mode of extension of the Self often led them to believe they had been guided toward a divinely ordained or sacred purpose in life. In Haley’s case, for example, recalling that she was working with multiple addictions (see above), the act of connecting with other people in a beneficial way acted to fill a ‘void’ for her with something meaningful. Reflecting Jung’s insight (in Jung and Wilson, 1963: n.p.), ‘spiritus contra spiritum’—meaning that ‘the highest religious experience’ can act to counteract craving for the ‘depraving poison’, alcohol—Haley believed that Ayahuasca had shown her the path she needed to take as a healer. Psychologist, Mary, was returning home with a new focus on supporting her family. Nakita found nourishment in the confirmation that she had assisted her mother, while Saph identified an unexpected ‘gravity’ in recognising the responsibility inherent in connecting with his Higher Self as he came to understand that to be in connection with this aspect of him-Self was to potentially be in connection with far more.

In the examples provided so far, the power to connect was associated with a process of reaching out or reaching into an-Other. For some pasajeros, however, meaningful connection and healing of Others was manifest through them.

PURGING FOR OTHERS

Like Nakita, Olimpia (Poland, 30, Graphic Designer) had an experience of healing her mother who was at home, this time in Poland. Before leaving to travel to Peru, Olimpia reported having had ‘a really hard time’ with her mother who suffers from schizophrenia and extreme paranoia, and who had recently disclosed that she had wanted to commit suicide. Olimpia described her

145 experience in ceremony of cradling her mother on her lap and then purging on her mother’s behalf:

I was there and I was stroking her cheek and … I saw like a red ball in her brain … and at that same moment I was thinking: ‘This is the demon that sits in her.’ And I kissed her forehead and I started sucking it out. And I saw that red energy going into my body. I purged immediately … vomited, and I felt it in my head, like physically, but I was … so happy. I was thinking: ‘Mum, I healed you, I healed you’.

She then described her experience in the toilet afterward as she continued to purge through vomiting, ‘making a poop’ and yawning widely at which time she saw a demon on the ground that she squashed into the floor with her foot. She immediately knew, however, that something was wrong—she believed that the only way to release demons was through the act of love, and she hated her mother’s demon. Later in the night, Olimpia realised that the demon was not yet gone: ‘I felt weird inside’. The ceremony closed, but the maestro, rather than leaving the maloka as usual, made his way directly to her mat where he started ‘smacking my head with that cushma in his hand.’149 She crumpled to the mat but he continued to hit the sides of her head with his cushma before performing a series of chupas across her head:

It was very painful, physically, because he was sucking on my skin. And then he pressed on my belly, and he was pressing it and working it up my oesophagus. And when he got to my chest he pressed so much that I [expelled air in sharp cough] I coughed it out. Then he did a chupa again on my head. I don’t know what happened. I have no idea. I went to [him] after that to ask what he saw. He said [using nonchalant voice]: ‘Oh, you just had some block’ [laughs].

Olimpia held great hope that she had been able to assist her mother’s healing, and reported that when she called her mother one week after that ceremony her mother told her: ‘I had such calm week. The voices don’t even bother me too much’. Olimpia remained both hopeful and doubtful: ‘I firmly believe she’s OK. Because I’m working on myself to help her, to be honest, you know’. Here she expressed her belief that the strong connection she has to her mother through their bonds of love could enable a spontaneous healing in her mother through her loving actions in ceremony and through healing her own trauma. Olimpia applied the chupar technique on her mother (energetically) from a distance just as a maestr@ would do physically in ceremony. For her, the boundaries between herself and her mother had become permeable. Paradoxically, Olimpia reported that she felt she had separated herself from her mother as a

149 The cushma is the traditional dress worn by male medicos in ceremony. See Chapter 1.

146 consequence of that event, no longer feeling the anxiety, worry and responsibility that she previously carried for her mother’s emotional stability. Meaning and healing resided in the hope that her mother had benefitted from her actions through their shared connection: ‘It’s the same DNA, you know, it’s the same energy. Why not?’

Healing of familial or generational trauma was also a focus for other pasajeros. In Chapter 4, I discussed Stephanie’s experience of releasing a past-life trauma of losing her baby when kicked in the stomach by her husband, as well as her recollection of a supressed memory of sexual abuse by her brother when she was younger. For Stephanie, her path of healing in this lifetime has taken on greater meaning than the healing of her individual Self, however. For her it encompasses healing for multiple generations of women in her family:

The message in the end was, ‘it's over. It will never, ever, ever be this bad again’ … It’s just so exciting 'cause this is like a really different path for us, I mean, generations of women in my family just, whew, so much pain and suffering and I carried that, and I'm like the one person, one kid in the family ... that's like really chosen to take the opportunity of the struggle that, you know, the curriculum I've been given in life, and heal and really change the path of our family. Like I can't wait to have kids 'cause, you know, I'm sure I'll have my stuff as a Mom but like, it's not going to be like it's been. It's going to really start a new wave, so I'm really excited.

Mabit (in Jeronimo et al., 2017: 116) refers to such access into the deepest-held imprints in the body as the ‘third level’ of understanding that is generally not incorporated in most psychotherapeutic approaches, but is fundamental in Traditional Amazonian Medicine where the body remains the primary focus. He says it:

is the somatic memories, the profound integration, at the cellular level, which is lived, experienced as such, as a profound inscription that contains the archives of everything that happened to us in our life, and beyond that, the archives of our ancestors, our roots, our lineages, and beyond that, all of humanity, the universe, etc. (Mabit in Jeronimo et al., 2017: 116).

It is here, he says, that ‘we find the doorway to the spiritual world, the deep, transcendental, universal meaning of our own life, and of life in general’ (in Jeronimo et al., 2017: 117).

For Stephanie, the cleansing that occurred through the ceremonies equated to a cleansing of generations both before and after her. She recognised her dis-ease not only in terms of a continuum that stayed with her from one lifetime to another as a reincarnated soul, but also as an inheritance—a dividual aspect of her-Self connecting the generations. Through that ongoing connection she felt able to affect healing for those both before and after her, as she traversed the boundaries of both physicality and temporality. Stephanie saw her role, the ‘curriculum’ she has 147 been given for her own life path, as that of taking on the struggle of searching for, finding, confronting and releasing this hidden menace from her lineage.

Similarly, Kalpesh (UK, 29, Video Games Analyst) came to understand his connection to previous generations in his family through the experience of identifying a family curse within him that he believed might have originated in Africa with his grandparents. Kalpesh’s grandparents emigrated from India to Kenya before being ‘thrown out’ and moving on to England well before Kalpesh’s birth. He travelled to the Temple primarily to support his Uncle who was having ongoing problems. His focus changed, however, after a dramatic and intense experience. During his first ceremony, Kalpesh saw a snake moving around in his stomach and intestines. It had jagged glass spikes, which tore at his intestines as it moved but while it came up through his throat to peer out of his mouth, he was unable to purge it. This was to change in his second ceremony:

That’s when things I didn’t even know I had in me decided to come out. Even things I was carrying for other people, such as family members … I felt like I was possessed. There was something inside of me, controlling me. I had no control … It got to the point where I started to transform into like, different beings were coming out of me; different entities … I was making strange sounds I could never make unless I was under the influence of ayahuasca. But I could not control myself ... I was thinking ‘this is ridiculous. This is not me.’

I was present in the ceremony that night, sitting in the middle of the maloka for the purpose of observation, and while it was difficult to write in complete darkness, I scribbled these notes: ‘Chaotic! No. 7 [position around the circle] has been gagging like being strangled, hissing like snake, sounds like drowning, neighing like horse, screaming in high pitch, gasping, growling. [Facilitator] is staying with.’ I recall thinking it could not be possible that the range of sounds I heard could come from just one person. The event unfolded over several hours, after which Kalpesh, with assistance from his group facilitator, was left to make meaning of his experience.150 He explained:

After the end of the ceremony, [the facilitator] told me this was a curse sent from my ancestors in Africa … [My family] used to tell me strange stories about voodoo magic and shamans over there used to curse people … I feel like I’m carrying the curse for my

150 The workshop facilitator for this group had incidentally had extensive experience working with the plant medicine, iboga, in Gabon, Africa, in addition to her extensive experience with ayahuasca. She, along with other facilitators present at the Temple during that time, reported never having seen a situation such as this previously. I was not to hear of anything like it again.

148 family, removing it for them. Before the ceremony I saw the maestros and … I told them about my problems, that I had trouble putting on weight, I had problems with my knees and joints and everything, and after the ceremony I was told that the entities in me were eating my food and stealing my energy.

He said that his male relatives from Africa all had ‘strange weight distribution’ as well as marital, business and alcohol problems. For Kalpesh, his experience of purging the entities he discovered inside him was a positive sign that he could affect change on behalf of those relatives. During the course of our interviews, I noted that Kalpesh had stopped referring to the entities inside of him as ‘demons’. He explained that Ayahuasca came to him and told him, ‘it’s just your perspective; it’s just energy.’ Kalpesh had concluded that he (and his uncles) carried an energetic imprint, inherited from his grandparents and experienced, both physically and emotionally, in his lifetime. He understood that by clearing this energy imprint for himself, he was clearing it for all of them.151

While there were relatively few examples in which pasajeros reported purging aspects of themselves on behalf of multiple generations, I often heard of individuals purging on behalf of others in this lifetime; not only for family members, but for friends, acquaintances, patients, and sometimes for whole cultures or for the suffering of the world. Anne (New Zealand, 59, Doctor), for example, stated that:

There’s like a theme [running through my ceremonies] … It’s like I’m in this, it’s not like a Greek Temple or an Egyptian Temple, but it’s like there’s some sort of headdresses, I’m at the altar, I’m coming to purge and purge up all the suffering—for myself, for my family, for my patients—it’s like, yeah, I’m on the river of suffering … I’m sort of with all these beautiful workers, I mean it’s like this noble quest, but it’s hard work, it’s really painful.

Anne ultimately came to understand that she was purging what she labelled ‘the suffering of the world.’ She explained that in her initial ceremonies she would tell herself to ‘release to the stars’, but reported that she was having difficulty purging with that practice, always feeling that she had not purged completely. Eventually, as she watched the maestr@s during one ceremony, wondering how they can work in an environment in which she understood they were taking on the suffering of others, she had an insight as she heard a voice say: ‘release to the Earth’. As a conduit of release, Anne had previously taken the suffering of the people of the world and

151 It is interesting to note that recent research in Biological Psychiatry has demonstrated that severe trauma experienced by parents before the conception of their offspring causes epigenetic alterations in both (see Yehuda et al., 2016).

149 energetically directed it outward and upward in an attempt to dispel it from the Earth. Coming to a new understanding that the maestr@s were working in connection with the Earth, however, she determined: ‘This is the answer’. She then described how shortly afterward she needed to go to the bathroom ‘just to do a wee’, and when she was sitting on the compost toilet, she realised that the purge bucket that was usually in the bathroom was not present:

It’s not that I felt sick or anything so I was thinking ‘well, that’s okay, I don’t need it’ … And all of a sudden it was like … ‘Oh my god!’ I had to [vomit] right into the toilet. It was this huge thing, like took me completely unawares, like [the plant spirits were] saying … ‘we’re just gonna jump on you and get it all out.’… I was seeing the sawdust, feeling it, [and the purge] goes on and on and on, it was like, ‘I’m releasing to the Earth!’

In this account of her experience, Anne recalled several connections that occurred for her. She felt a connection with the suffering of all people, the connection the maestr@s had with her suffering during the ceremonies, which they helped to release while providing an example for her to follow; connection to the plant spirits who she perceived as putting her in a situation where she had to ‘release to the Earth’, her original attempt at connection with the stars for the purpose of protecting the Earth, and her eventual sense of (inter)connection with the Earth to fulfil her ‘noble quest’ of cleansing the world’s suffering. Ultimately, she described a sense that the circuit of release was opened, from the people of the world, through herself as a conduit, and into the Earth, all connected through the perceived movement of energy from one to an-Other.

I commonly heard health practitioners reporting the need to ‘expel’ the pains and illnesses of patients that they recognised they were carrying within them. For others, the trauma of historical genocide and/or the consequences of colonisation for the indigenous people of their land presented to them for purging. In each of these situations, the notions of dividuality and partibility are prevalent. They reveal that what the Shipibo posit as virotes or magical darts, sent to an individual with intention and malice, represent just one type of interference recognised by pasajeros as manifesting through the lived Self. While Kalpesh and Stephanie identified dis- ease in their lives in terms of inherited imprints infused within their DNA, other examples throughout this chapter posit the Self as a dynamic terrain, collecting and releasing partible aspects of the Others that permeate it.

The notions of ‘pollution’ and ‘purity’ are pervasive in these accounts. Similarly to the accounts provided in Chapter 4, not all ‘essences’ or imprints, inherited or otherwise, are deemed equal. Those that manifested through the Self as love, peace, joy, and other emotional states that are deemed ‘positive’ or of ‘high vibration’ were considered unproblematic. The elements that needed to be purified in this sense tended to reflect notions of ‘dirt’ as identified by Van Der Leeuw (1964: 343-9) in his chapter on the practices of religious ‘purification’. ‘Dirt’, in his 150 interpretation, ‘means all the hindrances and annoyances that prevent the perpetuation and renewal of life’ (Van Der Leeuw, 1964: 343). ‘Purification’, he says, can be accomplished through any means that has the power to ‘set the arrested current in motion again’, bringing about a ‘new birth’ through the impartation of ‘benevolent’ and aversion of ‘wicked’ power (Van Der Leeuw, 1964: 344-5).

CONNECTION WITH SPIRITS

Connection with an-Other during ayahuasca ceremonies can take many forms. Pasajeros commonly reported playing with, receiving messages from, engaging in conversations with, being healed by, and even metamorphosing into various forms of spirit entities including plant spirits, insects, extra-terrestrial beings, angels, and Gods. For some, a connection between themselves Ayahuasca was identified even before they arrived in the jungle.

Many pasajeros shared their belief that the spirit of Ayahuasca, through Her own agency, is increasingly reaching out from Her home in the Amazon, calling them to Her as a matter of urgency. The Temple website (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017c) states:

There is a global epidemic of people suffering from psycho-emotional illnesses that modern healthcare systems are not able to address. Ayahuasca is reaching out across the globe to offer its significant benefits.

The website proposes that as ‘Westernisation’ spreads throughout the world, so too does an increasing disconnection between humanity and the natural environment, which is rapidly leading to the irreversible destruction of both.152Ayahuasca ‘breaks open the doors to higher consciousness’, they state, acting as a ‘gateway’ to the knowledge that ‘our planet is alive and sentient’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l). Through direct experience of this sentience, they indicate that the novel recognition of the Self as an inseparable part of Nature has the potential to invoke healing, both of the individual and the ultimate collective. This forms a basic focus of the work carried out at the Temple:

Guided by the plant spirits, we are committed to reconnecting our guests with their true selves, the spirit world and (Mother) Nature. Our guests experience directly the true meaning of community—common unity with all life—and that compassion, connection and

152 While sociological scholarship has long provided critiques on the notion that a homogenised Western culture might enjoy uncontested hegemony in the globalised environment (e.g. Schuerkens, 2003; Tomlinson, 1996), I present the information in this section based on the understanding of many staff and pasajeros at the Temple that the spread of Western ideals is, usually through processes of disconnection, creating widespread damage to social and environmental networks.

151 gratitude are not just the expressions of that unity but the very means of changing the world (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l).

The notion that sentient beings in the plant world may display agency in ways that are remarkably similar to human beings is a clear departure from Western ontology. The spirit of Ayahuasca, itself, is widely recognised as instrumental in the rising popularity of its own use, as it ‘reach[es] out across the globe to offer its significant benefits’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017c). Some pasajeros reported a direct connection with Ayahuasca, usually through dreams, perceived visions or inspirations that indeed ignited their interest in traveling to the Amazon to undertake ceremonies. Yulia (Russia, 26, Advertising) shared the story of how she came to be drawn to ayahuasca:

It was very interesting and unexpected … It was two months ago. I went to the forest and after that I drew a picture that was not my style. And I drew a woman with green hair, flowers in her hair, being born from the planet … And I could not understand what that meant, and I was … chatting to my friends on Facebook and one of them popped up that I haven’t talked to for five months. And I had this urge to tell him about it and I told him that I’m really surprised, because, well he knows my paintings … And he asked me to send him a picture. And so I sent him a picture and then it was like, ‘Oh, well, this is Mother Ayahuasca! And this is Mother Earth asking you to come.’

For Yulia and others like her, once the decision was made, the process of booking and traveling to the Temple happened with ease and grace. For others, the ‘call’ preceded a litany of challenges.

Virginia (USA, 56, retired) described numerous adverse circumstances that she believed Ayahuasca was instrumental in producing leading up to her departure for Peru. She faced financial difficulties, a lost passport (discovered missing the night before she departed), the loss of her mobile phone on the flight, and the breakdown of her computer when she arrived in Iquitos:

So it just seems like I’ve been tested by Ayahuasca, like, do I really want this badly? Or it seems that way. ‘Cause I was told [by a visiting shaman to my home in the States] that She will give me signs. So I just kept saying ‘this is about trust, this is about trust.’ And so here I am, grateful to be here, alive and well.

Virginia shared that the same shaman told her:

Ayahuasca is a real living entity, being, and She is starting to make Her way out into the world in a big way, you know. Well it started here [in the Amazon] and now She’s just like a vine that’s … growing out into the world. 152 While the journey was often quite different for these pasajeros, the understanding that Ayahuasca ‘Herself’ was calling them was significant in imbuing their quest with deep significance. Many pasajeros remarked that their ‘healing journey' began the moment they made the decision to travel to the Amazon, reporting financial, emotional, medical, and practical issues in terms of tests of personal strength, resilience and determination that were also preparing them to endure what was to come.

Once they began to engage in ceremonies, many more pasajeros recounted direct experiences with the spirit of Ayahuasca. In these cases, the majority recognised ‘It’ as a voice that questioned, challenged or guided them.153 Some recalled visions that they recognised as Ayahuasca. Olimpia recalled:

I had a big snake [in my vision] and it had a Shipibo pattern … and the snake [came] towards me and I was like, I was so amazed. And I was looking into its face and suddenly that face turned into [an] old woman’s face. And She came so close to me and She smiled, and She said, like I heard, or I felt it more than heard it, like ‘Welcome’ you know? And I knew it was Ayahuasca and I was like so happy. I was clapping my hands, like ‘yay!’ and I said to Her: ‘I’ve been waiting for you for so long. I’ve been waiting. Just take me, embrace me.’ And She started making circles around me and she disappeared and I just felt Love. I felt so welcome there. And I knew I’d made a connection.

For Nancy (USA, 55, Psychotherapist; Spiritual Teacher), her experience of meeting Ayahuasca was one of even closer connection. Rather than just seeing and speaking with Ayahuasca and the plants, she became Ayahuasca:

I was Her. It was like, the image was I, it was the feeling of being a plant … I was just moving like a vine, not trying to … And completely uninhibited, no restrictions, there was no pain, everything was effortless and I felt really young and very vital and fresh and green [laughing].

In this description, the connection that Nancy felt with Ayahuasca went beyond the meeting of Self with Other to a permeated intermingling in which she perceived that they had merged. Her state of being, right through to her experience of her own body, had been radically altered. In this state, she was able to both hear and speak with other plants, and to experience visceral

153 Before engaging in ceremonies, Ayahuasca was most often referred to in terms of ‘Her’, whereas once pasajeros ‘met’ Ayahuasca, many, although not all, attributed the non-gendered ‘It’ to the spirit they encountered.

153 movement, freedom, vitality and lack of pain, all of which presented a contrast to her ordinary sense of Self.

When Ayahuasca and/or other spirits traversed the boundaries of the Self, pasajeros most often reported that they did so for the purpose of making alterations. Just as the ikaros are sung ‘into’ a pasajero with the intention of restoring their healthy patterns, so too did pasajeros perceive spiritual entities modifying their intrinsic environment. Cindy (Canada, 31) described this in terms of her physicality:

I saw the plant spirits; they were working on me. I physically felt them, so much so that when I went to grab my purge bucket, I felt like I was bumping into them, and I was apologising and I was thanking them and it was just so beautiful.

For Joann (Australia, 56, Medical Admin), the beings that worked on her were ‘intergalactic’. Like Cindy, she felt them physically as they moved and worked within her:

I had one ceremony where I was in a medical suite where the intergalactic beings were working on me all night long, and I could physically feel, like things moving in my body … I felt a ‘pinging’ all the way down my spine and just felt like it was just looser, and I’m going ‘Ah! Thank you.’ … There were lots of them … I can’t name them … [they had] the large, pointed, elongated skull, and they showed me how their brains actually work and the circuitry within their brain, and why their skull had to be so big.

Mary M. encountered the spirits of animals:

I had this experience when [a maestro] was singing to me … these little bluish praying mantis-type creatures were climbing all over my body and it felt like they were examining me, taking data … And then [in a later ceremony] I was in surgery. It was like this very medical experience … and there was a snake, and it was shaking and vibrating and it was kind of brown and slimy … And I said ‘OK, this is to enter me, right?’ and it came in me, somewhere down in my lower abdomen … I could feel it going through my whole body, searching and collecting things and … taking like the dark stuff … Then this big yawn came and the snake left me.

While the forms of the beings are different in each of these representations, their perceived intentions are similar, commonly recognised in terms of medical procedures with the intention to impart healing. For many pasajeros, where intelligent forms were identified—where spirits entered them, changed them, and left—the changes that they perceived became part of them.

Interactions with the spirit world not only involved healing, but sometimes focused instead on the sharing of information, and even of experience. Just as Nancy ‘became’ Ayahuasca, a small

154 percentage of pasajeros reported taking on other forms, particularly of animals. Mary M., for example, felt that she ‘was a tiger … I was hanging my head and crawling and shaking my head.’ She told of ‘energy dripping out’ of her and explained that she sensed it was ‘anger for all the horrible things that had happened to me … and other people that I didn’t retaliate against.’ In a later ceremony, she ‘transformed into a grasshopper’ and was lying on her back playing the violin with her feet. Mary heard Ayahuasca telling her that one of her favourite lives was as a grasshopper and that the joy she felt in that lifetime was always inside her, available for her to access at any time.

Celosia (USA, 25, Permaculture Designer), who had participated in multiple ceremonies with different shamans throughout South America prior to her time at the Temple, ‘went into cat- consciousness’ one night for a whole ceremony:

My cat spirit said, ‘I’m thirsty. I want blood. Let’s go hunting. You haven’t been letting me go out hunting.’ So I sunk into cat consciousness and went out hunting all around the grounds all night.154 And, um, some people were speculating that maybe the dead mouse in front of the dining room was me [laughing].

I asked Celosia what it meant for her to have that experience:

I actually take it really kind of at face value. I have always felt this cat in my energy, through all of my ceremonies … Cats are nocturnal so they go out in the evening and hunt, and I just felt like I wasn’t letting my spirit be wild enough at night, and really sink into that primordial, wild place.

Celosia told me that she was learning how to use her ‘defences’, like her teeth and her claws and ‘learning how to be silent and pounce on things’ by practicing in her cat form. She described seeing ‘through the eyes of a cat’, not analysing through reflexive awareness as she would in human form, but simply being cat-consciousness. In the process she learned about an-Other by embodying it:

I now realise I have another place to explore. To sink into the consciousness of another animal. I know that that’s something that shamans do. They go into the consciousness of all sorts of animals and learn their behaviours and that’s part of how [ayahuasca’s] used to make shamans and to teach villagers to be better hunters, is by teaching them the behaviours of the animals they hunt, teaching them the eating patterns of the animals they want to eat.

154 Celosia did not physically leave the maloka.

155 Just as plants that are imbibed in the context of a dieta remain available thereafter to be called upon by a maestr@, Celosia felt that because cat consciousness was something that she had embodied she now had access to that part of the animal world as part of her-Self.

In each of these cases, the Self is experienced in terms of incorporating Other. Both Mary and Celosia recognised this for its potential to create ongoing positive change in their lives. For Mary, taking the form of a tiger gave her a unique opportunity to purge her brooding anger, while becoming a grasshopper allowed her to access the joy she carried within, recognised in terms of a ‘partible’ aspect of herself, embedded from a previous lifetime in a distinctive form that she can call upon at any time. Celosia, while having already recognised the cat as ‘part’ of her being, learned how to nourish that part of her-Self that had been neglected. Like a shaman, she also learned the ways of the cat, but for Celosia that was interchanged with learning more about the ways and needs of her embodied Self. These experiences indicate that connecting with the other parts of the Self shifts conceptual boundaries endorsed by Western ontologies, while also allowing for novel forms of nourishment and expression usually left undiscovered in cultural ontologies that do not incorporate such possibilities. This allows for an extension beyond individual selfhood into alternative loci of wisdom inherent in Nature. Like Liam (see Chapter 4) who came to understand that he could take off and put on the social constructs that he had accepted as his identity, Mary and Celosia found partible aspects of their own ‘nature’ that they could access. Similar to what Abram (1996: x) argues, pasajeros recognise that by separating themselves from Nature, reducing animal and earth to objects and commodifying them, the experience of being human has effectively been ‘flattened’. Similarly, Narby (2006: 147) writes:

Recognising that the capacity to know exists outside humanity leads to a richer, more adventurous, and more comfortable life. Instead of trampling blindly all over the planet, we can see that life’s prodigious powers are housed in all its denizens.

Early anthropological representations have classified such tendencies toward animism in terms of ‘failed epistemologies’ (see Bird-David, 1999: S67). I would suggest, however, that there is value in applying Bird-David’s (1999: S77) notion of ‘animism as a relationship epistemology’ to these interactions. Rather than objectifying, rationalising, and reducing ‘things’ in order to know them, the relationships expressed here acknowledge a dynamic interaction between subject and object. What was once identified as ‘object’ is experienced as a subject-unto-itself, displaying form, agency and distinctive personality.

Both the embodied Self and the environment are experienced in these representations as ‘scenarios’: living organisms, or ‘living fields’, each adapting to and initiating change in an ongoing relationship of interdependence with each other (Buhner, 2014: 235). Reflecting

156 Nading’s notion of ‘entanglement’, they represent loci of ‘unfolding, often incidental attachments and affinities, antagonisms and animosities, that bring people, non-human animals, and things into each other’s world’ where bodies can be ‘both two and one at the same time’ (Nading, 2014: 29). In stark contrast to the nature/culture opposition that informs much of Western thought, Jones (2009: 308) similarly posits the world as ‘a huge entanglement of entanglements in ceaseless motion, within which bodies, places, landscapes, ecologies and cultures form for a while, before dissolving or moving on.’ This form of ‘territorialization’ of ‘external’ influences renders the Self a site under constant (re)construction as new meanings are consistently made and remade in relationship with the environment (see Deleuze and Guattari, 1983). These experiences posit Selves as ecological phenomena, absorbing and expressing each other phenomenologically through ‘spontaneous sensorial engagement’ where the ‘perceiving body and that which it perceives’ are effectively inseparable (Abram, 1996: 57), in constant interaction and adaptation within a system that is far more ‘open’ than Western ontology allows for.

At the most fundamental level, recognition of humanity’s symbiotic relationship with, and indeed fundamental reliance on, Nature inspired many pasajeros to embrace new practices of advocacy upon their return home. Beyond this, revelations of the connection between Nature and ‘God’ (in its various representations) added unexpected depth.

A SYMBIOTIC RELATIONSHIP: NATURE AS A CONSTITUENT OF SELF

True healers of the Amazon have not lost the critical link with nature so necessary in order to understand how nature functions; the divine information it holds and ultimately, how nature connects us all together, both to each other and to spirit (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017b).

At the beginning of this chapter, I discussed a pervasive recognition for many pasajeros that Western culture acts to induce dis-ease through its function and ontological foundations based in fundamental disconnectedness. Central to the concerns of many is the increasing detachment occurring between the urbanised human and the Natural environment. As pasajeros ‘meet’ the elements of Nature, this situation can take on novel and increasingly personal meaning as the recognition of sentience and agency in Nature acts not only to reveal profound insights into the nature of Nature, but also into the nature of the Self.

The Temple website (2017b) states that humans, rather than being autonomous entities, are ‘part’ of ‘a living Earth’. Additionally, it states that humans, in optimal connection with Nature, are ultimately constituted of ‘light’ energy from the sun that is trapped by the plants, and is thus imbibed by the animals, effectively constituting the energy source in the food that fuels us

157 (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l). In this way, the Temple recognises similar notions to Abram (1996) who suggests that food—as well as the shelter, clothing, and fuel provided by Nature’s Others—not only fulfils needs, but constitutes the very essence of human individuals. For Abram (1996: 32), the world is a sensuous, ‘living field, an open and dynamic landscape subject to its own moods and metamorphoses’, that by merely being recognised, seen, heard, smelt, or felt by an individual, must necessarily ‘enter’ them, flowing through the permeable Self, rendering it changed.155 He states:

The breathing, sensing body draws its sustenance and its very substance from the soils, plants, and elements that surround it; it continually contributes itself, in turn, to the air, to the composting earth, to the nourishment of insects and oak trees and squirrels, ceaselessly spreading out of itself as well as breathing the world into itself, so that it is very difficult to discern, at any moment, precisely where this living body begins and where it ends (Abram, 1996: 46-7).

Recognition of this symbiotic relationship is pervasive in discourses at the Temple. During a ‘Permaculture Walk’, pasajeros are shown the ‘poop-aya (papaya) trees’ and banana crops that are regularly fed with the composted waste from the toilets in the tambos, helping them to rapidly grow strong. They are reminded of the importance of the Amazon jungle, not only for the production of oxygen but also for the metabolisation of carbon dioxide that must be taken from the air. In introductory talks, pasajeros are encouraged to take their full ‘purge buckets’ and pour the contents under the trees after ceremonies, returning their waste to Nature with gratitude. Just as human waste in the form of carbon dioxide and faeces provides nourishment to plants, so, too, is the dissonance (pollution) that was once held inside a pasajero, when released, (re)incorporated into the flow of the larger system of interconnection. Marcus (USA, 41) was given this information directly in one of his ceremonies when he met ‘the fairies of the forest’. One of them told him that they were responsible for protecting the pasajeros from ‘any evil that enters the forest’ during ceremonies:

I said: ‘What do you do with the evil?’ She said: ‘When it comes we feed it to the Earth.’ And I was like: ‘Wow, cool’.

To put this in the context that Douglas (2008 [1966]) might use, what is ‘dirt’ for humans, becomes in these discourses, not ‘matter out of place’ but rather matter that finds a distinct and

155 David Abram is a cultural ecologist and philosopher whose works, Spell of the Sensuous (1996) and Becoming Animal (2011), were popular at the Temple. He draws heavily on the phenomenology of Husserl and Merleau-Ponty in his exploration of humans as part of the natural environment.

158 beneficial place within a system of extended connection with the natural world. What is pathogenic for the pasajero becomes, in an ongoing relationship of symbiotic harmony, nourishment for the plants.156 In this way it can be posited that no ‘matter’ or ‘essence’ is inherently pathogenic or problematic, but rather shifts and changes in similar ways to which the Self metamorphoses, only becoming problematic when trapped within impermeable boundaries. The Self in a permeable relationship with Nature becomes a Self able to adapt and adjust in symbiotic harmony, absorbing what it needs and releasing what it does not. In this way, each continues to constitute the other.

Like many in this chapter, Marcus refers to the elements of Nature as having agency, working with humans, and on behalf of humans, in a similar way to that which God is represented in the monotheistic religions as caring for His children.157 In this way, some pasajeros came to recognise Nature, not only as a ‘gift from God’, but as God-incarnate on the Earth, here to serve humanity. This notion was central in a popular series of books, The Ringing Cedars of Russia that longer-term residents queued to read during their stay at the Temple:

This was the way it was all designed by the creator right from the very beginning, so that all life on Earth should strive to please man, and the air and the water and the breeze would be life-giving under the impulse of love (Megré, 2006: 22).

The notion of Nature as a constituent of the embodied Self provides a strong contrast to predominant Western ontologies. When Nature, then, is experienced in terms of sentience and agency, conceptualisations of a Self that is comprised of it and that can interact with it take on novel meanings. The Self that is no longer recognised as bounded and separate began, for some pasajeros, to incorporate a (N)ature that extended into the fabric of the universe, revealing an essence of the Self that incorporated ‘all things’, ultimately constituted by the Creator Force.

THE NATURE OF (HUMAN) NATURE: THE ESSENTIAL SELF

In the representations I have provided so far, the Others that have been encountered during ceremonies have been recognised in terms of ‘other-than-human persons’ (Hallowell, 1975: 149), having discrete and independent agency and power, and often presenting in humanoid

156 Some pasajeros insisted that while humans, in recognition of this relationship, preferred to think of it in terms of co-dependence, this was actually not the case. They pointed out that while humans are completely dependent on Nature for existence, Nature would continue, and indeed, flourish, without humans. 157 It is interesting to note that ‘Mother Nature’ is rarely seen in spirit form as individual ‘species’ or entity as other elemental beings are, but rather is attributed with an overarching intelligence in a similar way to representations of God.

159 forms. Overwhelmingly, pasajeros reported that the experience of themselves in (re)connection with Others was central to the modes of healing they were undergoing. An integral aspect of the Self was recognised in terms of being part of an integrated whole, as it directly experienced ‘the true meaning of community—common unity with all life’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017l). In the following examples, I will outline some of the various ways that pasajeros came to experience what they perceived as the ‘true nature’ of the Self as it was experienced in relationship with a greater system that incorporated, not only the corporeal world and the realms of spirit, but also extended to include the Universe, and ultimately, (whatever their understanding was of) God.

For some pasajeros, connection with the Universe and Universal Consciousness was experienced in terms reflective of the digital age, many of these describing it in terms of the movie, The Matrix. Mish (Australia, 32, Hypnotherapist), for example, experienced the foundational constitution of the Universe in terms of information, ultimately equating it to Love:

I had my biggest realisations … I went to what I’ve called ‘the information highway’, and all I saw was all this, like, all digital and it was just all these lines moving digitally and other lines coming into it … it was like I was learning about, ‘everything’s just information’. Nothing even exists and things connect and disconnect at different times. Yeah, and there was a lot about, ‘Love is just all there is’ on that night.

Shirin (Iran/Canada, 31, Manager) similarly described her visions in terms of energetic lines that were transferred between people:

I wanted to see the energy … you know, how it is in the space and how it flows around … It was amazing the first time when I saw it, the movement of the patterns. It was fascinating … It’s hard to describe. It’s like a pattern of, ah [long pause] lines. A lot of lines, like groups of lines, and they’re moving everywhere and there’s like colours in them. I was watching the maestros when they were singing and I would see this energy just floating from them to the other person. And I saw [a maestro speaking with a facilitator] in the centre of the room, whispering to each other … and I saw this movement of energy [between them]. It was amazing.

Shirin spoke of seeing herself as shapes and colours and feeling herself in terms of vibrations. When ikaros were sung to her, she perceived those, too, as shapes, lines, colours and vibrations that met with hers, at first stirring up darkness and making her feel nauseous and then moving through her as vivid blues and purples that she experienced as profound peace. As with Mish, what would usually be recognised as inert phenomena—digital lines, colours, shapes—were

160 experienced synonymously with felt emotion. ‘Love’ for Mish, and ‘peace’ for Shirin presented synaesthetically with colour, form and resonance.

The patterns that Shirin saw did not reflect the particular forms of kené associated with the Shipibo, but rather related more closely to what she thought of as the digital properties of frequency and resonance inherent in physics. Shirin also spoke of the transference of energies and essence between people that is reminiscent of descriptions of partibility described above. Mish’s ‘digital highway’ represented an interpretation of energy transference in terms that reflect modern digital technology. That ‘information’ and ‘Love’ were both recognised as ‘all there is’ for Mish, and that colour, shapes and lines could manifest as emotions for Shirin, however, suggests a qualitative dimension to what would, in the domains of traditional sciences, be described in terms of their quantitative properties.

While these experiences inspired awe and wonder for Mish and Shirin, Hans experienced the terrifying sense of losing his ego and getting lost in the ‘matrix’ of the universe. He explained:

It was too much … I was thinking ‘I gonna die’ … physiologically, my blood pressure just went down, I was shaking, I was sweating, I was throwing up, I thought I aspirated because it was so intense, I was lying there just crying, you know, just asking for help … A scene opened up in front of me, like jokers sitting on a chicken wire watching me … They said you don’t have to be scared, you’re part of the matrix … I moved into like a big spider net … They were like, ‘you see how it is?’ … The wind was blowing and I was being waved around … they said, ‘that’s life, the wind blows and it stops, and you don’t have to be scared.’ Then came the snakes in the matrix, they were growing, getting bigger by the wisdom … I was so scared … trying to figure out who I was and I couldn’t … I was completely lost in the universe, you know, I was in another world … I lost myself.

While each of these experiences appear unique in their presentations, they each reflect an experience of the Self as existent within some form of network, reflective of Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) development of Jung’s ‘rhizome’ metaphor. Using the rhizome of plants—the complex subterranean systems of roots and nodes—as a symbolic framework, they offer a theoretical model of non-hierarchical systems in an open, fluid complex of interaction. Jung (1965: 4) wrote:

Life has always seemed to me like a plant that lives on its rhizome. Its true life is invisible, hidden in the rhizome … When we think of the unending growth and decay of life and civilizations, we cannot escape the impression of absolute nullity. Yet I have never lost the sense of something that lives and endures beneath the eternal flux. What we see is blossom, which passes. The rhizome remains.

161 Rhizomatic systems, Deleuze and Guattari suggest, are without beginning or end and can be entered at any point. Regeneration, too, can occur at any point, rendering breakages of minor consequence to the whole, in which any point of the heterogeneous system can potentially connect to any other point. This view that there is an underlying ‘force’ that infiltrates all of life in its multiple manifestations is reflected in the notions so far revealed as representative of the ‘true nature of the Self’ in its most pure form. This notion reflects representations of the Self for Tibetan sherpas, which Paul (1976: 131) states is not perceived as ‘hopelessly cut off and excluded from the rest of nature,’ but rather as ‘connected to, indeed identical with, the entire essential being of the cosmos’. For some pasajeros, identifying an invisible, hidden life force infiltrating the whole thus took on sacred significance, recognised in terms of the Creator force, or God.

Tyler (USA, 23, Author) described his experience of astral traveling in ceremony when he traversed boundaries of space, time, and ordinary consciousness to find God within himself:

Ayahuasca had been teaching me how to astral travel; she had been teaching me how to time travel, that time is not linear, that you don’t need a machine to go between realms, that our physical bodies are actually very powerful, and that we have the power to heal ourselves, with Her aid of course … [I realised] we are very powerful beings, and settling in to that, and settling in to who I am … [Ayahuasca] showed me my personal connection to God and how God is an infinite being … and that we all have a slice of God within us and we have that same potential to reach those heights that, you know, God is … it’s rediscovering that. And She was saying how it may not be necessary that we do use ayahuasca to do that but it’s definitely one of the key elements to … healing yourself to the point of being who you are.

Big Matt described what he termed an ‘enlightenment experience’ during which he similarly came to identify his Self in terms of God.158 He recalled:

I’m giving thanks, and I’m saying, you know, ‘Thank you, God,’ and, ‘I love you, God’ but as I’m saying that I realised I’m still thanking another, there’s still separation in that. And so instead I say, ‘Thank you, me’ and when I say that, I have an enlightenment experience. I see a flash of gold light, I think I hear the word ‘Congratulations’ … and immediately after the flash of gold light goes away, my sense of Self is expanded to include all things … The individual doesn’t truly exist. It’s an illusion created by our egos

158 In the Work Exchange programme that Matt was part of, there were two Matthews. In order to distinguish them, they were called Big Matt and Little Matt by the other participants. I have used the name Big Matt here to provide a clear distinction from Matthew, the owner of the Temple.

162 … Basically my perspective had changed from an individual human being into something far greater … I never thought in my wildest dreams, you know, that awakening or enlightenment or whatever, was on the table … But, yeah, over the following days it actually grew stronger.159

This discourse, encompassing the notion of a sacred aspect existent within the Self and within all things, reflects one of the fundamental philosophies at the Temple. Their website (2017c) states:

Shamanism is not a religion, but a method for making transpersonal connection with the sacred realms. It’s at the epicenter of a new cycle of spirituality—one where there is no need for a priest, prophet or guru standing between you and your experience of the sacred realms. Each person becomes their own priest, their own guru receiving revelations from within themselves and higher transpersonal sources.

That the individual might have the potential to access these (previously unfathomable) realms— realms that might incorporate peace and wellbeing, connection and meaning, even magic and miracles through powers to create and heal—provided new hope for pasajeros as they reached beyond the boundaries of Western culture and the self within it.

CONCLUSION

I began this chapter with the common laments I heard from pasajeros that the focus on independence and individualism embedded in Western culture is pathogenic. When disconnection is experienced as causal for dis-ease, the culture that encourages it is often regarded as responsible. Through their navigation of alternative states of consciousness in ayahuasca ceremonies, pasajeros simultaneously encounter alternative experiences that can act to challenge cultural and social ontologies, epistemologies, and aetiologies, often requiring them to ‘borrow’ novel conceptualisations from cultures outside of their own in order to make meaning of anomaly. The notion of the Self as a strictly discrete, bounded, conceptually relatively ‘solid’ entity is often quickly challenged in the altered states of consciousness induced by ayahuasca.

Through the lenses of ‘dividuality’, ‘partibility’, and permeability, I suggest that non-Western cultures can provide alternate conceptual frameworks for viewing the Self as a ‘social microcosm’ in a constant process of modification and transformation (Strathern, 1988: 13). Indeed, for pasajeros to acknowledge the application of the plant medicines they receive

159 Further analysis of Big Matt’s experience is provided in Chapter 7.

163 through the maestr@ as anything beyond symbolism or metaphor, incorporation of these notions becomes difficult to avoid.160

For many pasajeros, the discrete, bounded entity that represents the Western Self is revealed to potentiate a malevolent form of ‘stagnation’ that can ultimately lead to dis-ease. Ayahuasca acts to ‘open the doors of perception’ (Huxley, 2004 [1954]) to allow for embodied experiences of connection to various forms of Other, both in the earthly realms and beyond. Some perceived that they had crossed the boundaries of Other selves, accessing their thoughts and memories, and performing acts of healing on them. Some recognised how they had carried imprints of Others within themselves, recognising how an-Other could live through them and manifest into lived experience. Some encountered doctors and teachers from other realms, while some merged into Others and experienced life in novel forms. These experiences suggest—indeed necessitate—notions of a Self that is permeable. Through (inter)connection, pasajeros enter experiences that induce processes of re-identification of the Self as their outer worlds manifest internally, and their inner worlds are perceived to create that which manifests externally. Being immersed in their internal landscape, but experiencing (in present time) so much of what would ordinarily be conceptualised as phenomena occurring externally to them, boundaries between the two necessarily blur.

I have previously posited that when considering a novel understanding of the dual nature of the self—the lived experience of the existential self as compared to that of the essential Nature of the Self—it is only the former in these cases that appears to present aspects of dividuality. It is this aspect of the self that is experienced as relatively unstable, undergoing constant refinement as it navigates multiple (inter)relationships. The essence of the Self or that part that some ultimately came to call ‘God’—is presented as an aspect that remains relatively unadulterated and unchanging. Being that which is perceived as foundational, its constitution remains stable. For some pasajeros, God is seen manifest in Nature, the nature of Nature manifest in the Self, and God recognised as the thread that represents the true Nature of all. What tends to change is the relative access and thus perception of this aspect of Self, available through self, dependent on its state in present terms.

The conceptualisation of a self that is constituted of (dividual, partible) essences, while not commonly incorporated into Western ontologies, resonates particularly well with aetiological understandings of the Shipibo. Even though unfamiliar to the Western mindset, pasajeros’ descriptions of connecting to multiple forms of Other through the Self lend to similar

160 While these labels were not utilised by pasajeros, I suggest here that the tenets that constitute these theoretical categories are widely observable in their descriptions.

164 conceptualisations of the Self as (at least potentially) a permeable locus of interconnection; a locus where the ‘essence’ of social exchange can remain imprinted and/or lodged, and can equally be purged and eradicated.

In cases that pasajeros’ deemed their multiple experiences and novel conceptualisations of the Self as extra-ordinary, they regularly, as Van Der Leeuw (1964: 28) suggests, conceived of them in terms of representing something sacred or divine. For those who experienced (usually novel elements of) the Self in this way, they similarly posited the constitutional essence of the Self in terms of God, Universal Consciousness, and the Oneness foundational to all things. In those cases, some form of ‘healing’ or the sense of a goal attained—an ending—was commonly perceived as the ‘spiritual Other’ became incorporated into the holistic Self. In the next chapter, I will explore how this aspect of the Self is signified and experienced for pasajeros.

165 CHAPTER 6: LIVING HEALED, BEING WELL

Visitors to the Temple arrive with an agenda. They are seeking something that has previously proven elusive: eradication of physical disease, resolution of emotional and psychological imbalances, and/or fulfilment of spiritual longings. Permeating all of their aspirations is a desire to feel somehow ‘better’, to be healed of what ails them. This sense of ‘being better’ or ‘being healed’ however, is often described in immeasurable and ambiguous terms, commonly incorporating notions such as ‘peace’, ‘happiness’, ‘freedom’, and ‘unconditional love’.

In this chapter, I will outline the predominant themes that emerged from my interview data that indicate ‘success’ for pasajeros. The concept of ‘being healed’ that I present here refers not just to the elimination of physical pathogens, but also incorporates a broader focus on holistic ‘wellbeing’. Rather than measurable, quantitative outcomes, therefore, the themes I explore represent qualitative, experiential states. Beyond the experiences of connection and interconnection outlined in the previous chapter, those of authenticity, gratitude, flow, awe, and (divine) Love emerged as markers of success. These themes are impossible to separate completely; along with experiences of interconnection, each of these themes incorporates notions of at least some of the others. Firstly, I will explore the realms of transcendent, non- ordinary states of consciousness with a focus on ‘peak experience’ and then outline some of the predominant ways that the aspects of Self revealed in those states are recognised as signifiers of successful ends in themselves.

TRANSCENDING ORDINARY CONSCIOUSNESS: THE PEAK EXPERIENCE

Altered, non-ordinary, extra-ordinary, magical, mystical, and/or transcendent states of consciousness form the foundation of psychedelic experiences that occur as the realms of conscious perception expand beyond the perceptual boundaries of ordinary, waking states (Huxley, 2004 [1954]; Mishor et al., 2011; Pinchbeck, 2002; Shanon, 2010a). As discussed in previous chapters, these experiences can be confronting, frightening and bleak for pasajeros. They can also encompass exquisite, expansive, and healing experiences. While both extremes can elicit deep transformations within an individual, descriptions of ‘peak experiences’ similar to those that infiltrate psychedelic and spiritual literature remain, for many pasajeros, the pinnacle of their hope.

166 ‘Peak experience’ is a term that has its roots in Maslow’s (1943, 1954) work in psychology. At times interchanging the term ‘peak experience’ with transcendent and mystical experience, Maslow describes these as:

rare, exciting, oceanic, deeply moving, exhilarating, elevating experiences that generate an advanced form of perceiving reality, and are even mystic and magical in their effect upon the experimenter (in Craighead and Nemeroff, 2002: 1156).

Maslow sees the value of the peak experience as, among other things, providing embodied learning which demonstrates that ‘[t]here are ends in life’, which he recognises as ‘experiences which are so precious in themselves as to prove that not everything is a means to some end other than itself’ (Maslow, 1964: 79). In his exploration of psychedelic states, Pahnke (1963, 1969) describes the ‘psychedelic peak experience’ in terms of sacredness, ineffability, and transcendence, inducing feelings of revelation, unity, and positive change. My data suggests that such experiences, which Maslow equates to ‘Heaven’, consistently represented ‘success’ for pasajeros—an ‘end’ point or destination reached in the quest for wellness.

Similarly, Healing with Ayahuasca, as described on the Temple website (2017i), incorporates ideals of the mystical and magical aspects inherent in these notions of enhanced perception:

Eventually, incredibly vivid visions may come to you—often revealing profound knowledge about your place in the universe, the plant and animal kingdoms, and perhaps even revealing life in other dimensions and galaxies. After considerable work, the spirits of the plants (the ibo in Shipibo) or sometimes ancient shamans (Meraya) in their spirit-form may reveal themselves to you.

A testimonial from Seth Roberts, MD, available on the Temple’s home page (2017m), highlights his experience concerning the potential of ayahuasca to transcend ‘the ordinary’ in ways that affect extraordinary healing and transformation:

I was coming for a couple of reasons … I had a couple of key issues I’d been working on, emotional issues for 10 or 12 years, that I’d made some real progress in but I felt a little stuck with … I had also some things in front of me … that I’ve been finding very challenging to think about how I’m going to respond to … There was also a growing sense of curiosity about my place in the universe and the nature of consciousness and reality, perceptions of time and matter. I’ve been doing a lot of exploring … it was almost like a scientific interest to see [what Ayahuasca would bring to those things] … What I found, however, was much less small than my ambitions … My very first ceremony, I had my list of things I was wanting to work with and they were all done in the first hour of the first ceremony. It was just mind-blowing and perfect. It was beautiful. And after that, just such beauty and connection and vibration that happens in the ceremonies; I was 167 just overwhelmed with my sense of belonging. With each successive ceremony I gained more and more insight about the real nature of my reality and myself and of the universe and my place in it and the connectedness of all things, and the infinite scope of time … I just learned patience and expectation and understanding and that it’s all coming exactly as it should. It’s such a peaceful feeling … to know that everything is as it should be.

I came to the Temple a scientific realist, meaning I thought that consciousness is the sum total of all of our neural connections and synapses and that it’s really a physical manifestation of a chemical process … I wouldn’t call myself a spiritual person … I would say I was an atheist. That’s hard to say now, because … after my first session I realised that there’s infinity—that we’re all a part of it, and that consciousness and spirit, they exist. They’ve always existed … I was afraid of dying when I came here. And now I understand so much more about the path that we’re all taking and the beauty of it … I’m just so grateful. It’s hard to put into words the profound change that’s happened to me from this gift. This is powerful medicine.

Seth’s is a prime example of a ‘peak experience’ that was consistently alluded to in my interviews with Temple visitors. Leading up to and during the time I was conducting fieldwork at the Temple, this particular testimonial sat first in a list of around 30 on the Temple’s website and it was one of the most common reasons that pasajeros gave to me when I asked them why they chose the Temple as their destination.161 His description incorporates many of the aspects of the healing journey people seek: the resolution of intractable emotional issues; guidance on life direction; insights into ‘my place in the universe’; the possibility of consciousness exploration; transcendence of the fear of death; and the elation upon discovering that there is even more. Seth’s description of himself as a former scientific realist and atheist who now acknowledges consciousness and spirit alludes to the potential for ayahuasca to provide transformative mystical experiences. Further, his testimony that so much was resolved for him in such a short timeframe incorporates the enticement of a possible ‘magic bullet’ solution.162

161 In a discussion with Temple founder, Matthew, in 2013, I mentioned that this testimonial was a powerful marketing tool. He responded that he was considering removing it from the website as it set up unreasonably high expectations. He said that an experience like Seth’s is rare and people are potentially left disappointed. My data supports that. At the time of writing in 2017, it remains on the home page, now fourth after testimonials from Anthropologist, Jeremy Narby; filmmaker, documentarian and Indigenous rights advocate, Bruce Parry; and Chris Kilham, ‘The Medicine Hunter’. It has currently been viewed over 80,000 times. At the time of my interview with Seth in August, 2013, he had returned to the Temple to train as a workshop facilitator. I discuss Seth’s experiences further in Chapter 7. 162 MedicineNet (2017a) defines a ‘magic bullet’ as: ‘The perfect drug to cure a disease with no danger of side effects … a magical solution to any vexing problem.’

168 One of the most alluring aspects inherent in these potential experiences is the possibility for experiential insight into the realms beyond those available in ordinary consciousness. Of the transcendent experience, Levin and Steele (2005: 89) write:

This experience typically evokes a perception that human reality extends beyond the physical body and its psychosocial boundaries. A principal characteristic of this experience involves transcendence of one’s personal identity and dissolution of a primary conscious focus on or grounding in one’s ego. Another frequently described element of this experience is the perception of merging or identification with the source of being—whether known as God or Higher Self or the Absolute or Eternal. Accordingly, this experience is most commonly described as both transpersonal and transcendent.

While there were many pasajeros who did not attain their ultimate goal of experiencing a protracted peak experience, most touched into, albeit sometimes only briefly, some of the aspects I will outline throughout this chapter. Even where the label of ‘peak experience’ might not be readily applied in those instances, moments and insights revealed connection to this potential as labels of ‘happiness’, ‘bliss’, ‘joy’, ‘peace’, ‘ecstasy’, and ‘euphoria’ were intermingled with descriptions of deep nurturance, safety, freedom, and sometimes even exuberant celebration.

One of the defining qualities of these descriptions that I noted was the consistency with which experiences were expressed with deep emotion, unbridled awe, and always in terms that indicated the belief that an indelible truth had been realised. Below are just two of the many descriptions of this experience. Justin (Australia, 41, Editor) said:

What I know is that when [Maestra Cielo] was singing to me, I discovered joy. That’s your taste of victory, right there. When I felt that, I go: ‘That’s what it is.’ Now I know and it had only been a theory before … I’d never experienced it before. It was pure, unbridled joy verging on euphoria. And really, that’s the point of life. It’s just so joyful.

After two difficult ceremonies filled with disturbing visions and many hours of purging, S.H. (Germany, 36, Physician) explained:

The third [ceremony] was beautiful. Was just so beautiful. I just felt so connected. I just felt so amazed by that … I just felt completely connected to everything—to the earth, to the nature—I just was lying there, happy. It was a kind of emotional orgasm, you know? Just like ‘aahhh! That’s soooo gooooood’ … really feeling so great, so loved, you know?

Permeating these experiences was a consistent sense that an insight about the Self had been reached in these moments; a sense that an ideal akin to ‘Heaven’ may well be available on

169 Earth, and that it exists within. Maslow (1964: 79) posits this as a recognition of personal authenticity:

Another kind of self-validating insight is the experience of being a real identity, a real self, of feeling what it is like to feel really oneself, what in fact one is—not a phony, a fake, a striver, an impersonator. Here again, the experiencing itself is the revelation of a truth.

Within the realms of the peak experience, a promise looms—of peace, of joy, and ultimately of unconditional Love; and within those states pasajeros appeared to sense an innate power to heal. Following are the attributes that they most consistently described as they embodied the experience of this potential inherent within the Self.

AUTHENTICITY

I'd rather be whole than good, C. G. Jung said. And by whole, he meant real, messy, ensouled, deeply human, heart-broken open with compassion flowing first to ourselves, to resource and prepare to let it flow widely, to others. Melissa La Flamme (2015: xi)

The environment and activities provided during a workshop at the Temple contribute to experiences that many pasajeros related to in terms of authenticity. The physical environment provides visitors with an experience of living with very few barriers between themselves and their natural environment; and ultimately, between themselves and their more ‘natural’ Self, devoid of many of the symbolic layers adopted within their home environment. The location of the Temple, just south of the Equator in the low-lying Amazon jungle, ensures that many symbols of status and power recognised in Western societies are necessarily stripped away. Business suits, designer clothing, and fashionable footwear quickly succumb to the intense heat, the humidity, and oftentimes-deep mud. Expensive jewellery is left at home, safe from the thievery that travellers are constantly warned about, makeup melts off within minutes of stepping from the aeroplane, and the absence of electricity in the jungle eradicates the use of styling and grooming implements. This environment acts as a great leveller for foreign visitors. Doctors, plumbers, CEOs, filmmakers, secretaries, teachers, and students find little to demarcate themselves from each other as they aim to rid their bodies of anything constrictive. From the very start, a level of vulnerability ensues as the first layers of ‘masks’ necessarily drop away. Workshop activities enhance this exposure and vulnerability.

The public vomiting that occurs in the vomitivo, as well as the floral baths taken publicly in bathing suits, both occur before the first ayahuasca ceremony (see Chapter 3). The ceremonies then work to reveal pain, traumas, and maladaptive behaviours, leaving many people feeling sensitive, sometimes raw and most-times open and vulnerable as parts of themselves that had 170 often remained hidden are exposed. Relationships are necessarily transformed—between aspects of the Self and between the Self and Other—and it was within these relationships that I noted a pervasive sense of authenticity eliciting deeply healing effects on pasajeros, many of whom reported a sense of ‘truly being seen’ for the first time.

On the first morning after pasajeros arrived at the Temple, they participated in the vomitivo, which was used to begin the process of cleansing their systems—of the city, their stresses, their fears and all else they brought with them that might equate to a form of energetic pollution— and to introduce them to working with the plants. In my fieldnotes, I wrote:

My first observation during the vomitivo was that people went through a clear shift in interacting. In the beginning, people waiting were politely looking away, talking to each other, trying not to make vomiters uncomfortable, but as it went on, the people in line started to watch intently, genuinely interested in the process and clearly feeling empathy for those going through it, even getting to the point of clapping and cheering after a large expulsion of liquid. This seemed to me to be the first big step in bonding in the group. A connection occurred quickly here through a shared, embodied and very authentic (vulnerable) experience.

For most people, vomiting is an activity that is usually undertaken in private. For many it represents sickness and weakness, and it was consequently an activity that quickly elicited an intense sense of vulnerability, and thus fear, in them. Witnessing others publicly undergoing the process, however, seemed to have an equalising effect that quickly established a sense of community of previously disparate individuals through the practice of a shared (vulnerable) experience.

Shortly after the vomitivo, pasajeros met in the maloka to hear their introduction to ayahuasca and the plant medicine ceremonies that they would begin that night. During that meeting, facilitators would usually ask the members of the workshop group to make a pact regarding how they would navigate the events that they might experience and witness over the coming days. They were asked to refrain from judging others, to respect privacy, and to remain considerate of the often-sensitive nature of the experiences that would likely unfold. In this way, a ‘safe container’ was encouraged in which experience of the Self in its entirety could be explored.

In one of his introductory talks, Matthew said:

You know, working with ayahuasca is not all about love and light. That’s where we’re aiming for. We’re aiming for balance, we’re aiming for alignment but in order to get to that we’ve got to face the shadow … Being faced with that shadow as the fears come through, the key to this work is having courage. We have to have courage to face fear … Once we’re able to face this, with courage, we’re able to understand that each one of these difficulties

171 that we’ve faced in our life … are a catapult. They’re a kind of trampoline back to the higher understanding.

Here, Matthew indicates that to reach ‘higher understanding’, a complete knowledge of the Self is required. Matthew encourages pasajeros to recognise authentic humanity in holistic terms, recognising and embracing it as ‘messy’ and sometimes deeply painful. In contrast to many New Age interpretations of spirituality in which darkness, negativity, and fear—the shadows— are shunned and demonised, with the ultimate aim that they be overridden by more ‘positive’ attributes, Matthew insists that the path to wellbeing with ayahuasca is ‘not all pink fluffy clouds and blue ponies’. The shadows, he indicates, are integral signposts on the healing path. In this discourse, health is attained once all of the ‘onion layers’ that have been accumulated over a person’s lifetime are revealed, recognised, integrated, and in these ways peeled away to reveal the purity of the essential essence of the Self that we are born with. Authenticity, in this sense, relates to acknowledging the truth of the present time existential experience that incorporates the Self in a holistic sense.

From a place where Selves were exposed, strong connections tended to form quickly. Mary M. (USA, 47, Psychologist), identified the acts of authentic connection she both witnessed and experienced, as efficacious in themselves:

What I’ve seen here is just immense vulnerability, from men, women, everyone. Just so vulnerable and open and friendly, and these are people that have only known each other for a few days. … [In Western culture] there’s not a space to be vulnerable or have emotions or to show weakness or to, you know, express warmth. There isn’t a lot of space for that.

For pasajero, Kalpesh (UK, 29, Video Games Analyst), who underwent the difficult ceremony in which he purged a demonic curse (see Chapter 5), the connection that ensued for him changed his understanding of both himself and the way he would relate to others from that point on:

Back at home I don’t really have friends that I can connect with on that level … I feel more of a connection to other people [here] … I used to keep my head down. Now everybody’s coming up to me after that terrifying ceremony, because they were terrified as well, seeing all the craziness happening, and they were hugging me and some were kissing me on the cheek. I don’t get that kind of affection [at home] … It gives me strength … Now I feel like I can open up a little bit more and be myself. I don’t have to cover myself and, you know, it’s good.

172 As authentic recognition of the present-moment existential condition was allowed, the ‘character’ of the accumulated ‘onion layers’ tended to be revealed more in terms of falsehoods; as inauthentic aspects of the Self that acted as barriers to the experience of both authentic knowledge of the Self and authentic connection to others. Cindy (Canada, 31) described her experience like this:

I think that I have a really hard time here being untruthful. Ayahuasca has a way of just giving me—like, there’s no bullshit. I can’t bullshit in an ayahuasca ceremony. I can bullshit in a session with my life coach … [but] you can’t hide from [ayahuasca]. There’s no running away … It’s been working to take away this person that I’ve put in front of my real Self … I’ve been more true to myself and with others, too, since drinking ayahuasca.

For Jeff (USA, 52, Artist), he explained:

It’s tearing down your defences, and your masks, walls. It’s tearing all this bullshit, the façade that we carry around with us. And that shit gets heavy … pretending we’re somebody because of the stories we’ve told ourselves … It’s not real … [Tearing down the stories allows] authenticity. You let your true Self shine through, you know, your absoluteness. The real essence of who you are.

Ultimately, these descriptions suggest that getting ‘real’ about what is present when in a state of dis-ease appears to reveal what is ‘not real’ about the Self. These ‘defences … masks, walls’ are understood to be pathogenic, and thus the agents that prevent a life lived from the perspective of the core essence of the Self. La Flamme (2015: xv) refers to this practice of authentic self- observation as central to the process of reaching a state of holistic wellbeing:

Authenticity strips away all that is NOT real. All that is not made from love, to love. All that is of enriched soul and inspired Spirit remains. There is no living a soul-centered life without being authentic—without mustering the courage to do the excavating in the dark: the Shadow work.

Underlying this notion of authenticity then is a radical form of honesty. When aspects of the Self that were ‘NOT real’ (emphasis in original) were peeled away, pasajeros reported recognition of what WAS real about themselves. Descriptions of this revealed common attributes, and were invariably infused with a sense that a place that was ‘healed’ had been reached.

173 THE AUTHENTIC SELF IN ESSENCE

The root of your power … is the divine, authentic YOU. Our core self is connected to the whole universe, both the physical world and the spiritual. Shamans tell us that our core self, also known as the divine self, is infinite and immortal; it has lived many lives. We are all connected to each other, and therefore our understanding of that core self is helpful in creating our dream for the world. John Perkins (2014: 7; emphasis in original)

When experiences of what Perkins calls the ‘core self’ or ‘divine self’—and what I am referring to here as the ‘essential Self’—were described by pasajeros, their descriptions tended to include similar elements: an experience of being something more than was previously identified as Self; an experience of close connection with an-Other or all Others; resultant emotions, aspirations, and goals that were infused with benevolence; and ultimately, a sense of knowing, of embodying, a new, authentic truth. Commonly, infiltrating all of this, were profound expressions of peace and love. Jeff stated:

I don’t think I’ve actually felt this deep of Self-Love for myself [before] … It’s the Is- ness, it’s the, you know, whatever the hell you want to call it, and that’s where the peace is.

Mary described her experience in similar terms:

I feel very light, and very gentle, and very peaceful, very humble.

While this sense of Love was the most common theme that emerged from these descriptions, recognition of the essential Self in terms of divinity or something sacred was also common.

For Stephanie (USA, 37, Spiritual Psychologist), finding an authentic connection during her ceremonies with a God that she had previously only been able to imagine and take on faith (see Chapter 5) translated to a renewed confidence in her ability to remain sober through the practices she learned during her years with Alcoholics Anonymous:

The big goal [of the twelve steps in A.A.] is to find a higher power that you can believe in, right? And that’s really what keeps you sober, and I really banked on that … I really wanted to believe in God, but it didn’t feel real to me. I didn’t feel God’s presence in my life … God was more in my head, was more of a concept, so things like ‘let go and let God’ … never felt real … I now know God and I just feel like my sobriety, my recovery, it will never be the same. All that stuff can actually now work now that I’ve had an experience of the Divine.

174 Stephanie did not take her experience to mean that she was God as others have done (see Chapter 5, later in this chapter, and Chapter 7), but rather came to understand that the Divine was available for her to experience within the Self. This new form of knowledge became available to her only after multiple layers of trauma were purged during her ceremonies, allowing the part of herself that was able to connect with Divinity to be revealed. As those experiences were expelled and her relationship with God developed, she reported that Ayahuasca revealed her life’s purpose as a healer to her. Reaching this place translated into a new sense of certainty and of authentic truth for Stephanie that she previously craved but was unable to access and believe in.

Authenticity appeared to be recognised where there was an element of rawness, of vulnerability, of innocence and truth. It was not only beauty that was recognised in this way, but also pain, shame, fear, and guilt. When these were revealed to others from a place of radical honesty and humility, there appeared to be a genuine recognition between people, accompanied also by a sense of the courage it takes to render oneself vulnerable. This combination often elicited the response from others of respect, compassion, and great care. The experience of authenticity in this way consistently affected people in ways that replicas expressed through rationalised conceptualisation did not. A new form of connection became possible as barriers to authenticity—acknowledgement of what was truly present—were removed, allowing a novel state of flow, both between people and between elements of the Self. Authenticity, recognised in this way, was posited as a gateway to reinstating a more open, interactive Self.

FLOW

Just as the environment at the Temple encourages movement toward a greater sense of authenticity, it also provides a template for the experience of flow. The dynamic Temple environment is constantly changing and growing. Just like the jungle that surrounds it, while seemingly constant to the casual, short-term observer, there is never a day in which Nature rests. Life, growth, symbiotic relationships between countless elements, death and decay continue in perpetual movement and flux. The notion that a ‘natural state’ incorporates an element of ‘going with the flow’ was similarly reflected in the aspirations and experiences of pasajeros.

For many pasajeros, the barriers discussed in Chapter 4 were conceptualised as impediments to this flow; personal traumas recognised in terms of energy blockages in what was otherwise conceptualised as an open system. For some, they perceived their existential fate of being in human form as inherently restrictive of flow. For many, the actions of the mind—in labelling, categorising, fearing, and controlling—were discovered during their ceremonies to be a predominant cause of flow impediment. For some, internalised restrictions between the mind

175 and the heart reflected a barrier to a ‘holistic’ life in which all elements of the Self could be lived simultaneously, in harmony with each other. Restriction was experienced in terms of disconnection and stagnation, often recognised in terms of what Csikszentmihalyi (1997: 86) identifies as ‘anomie and alienation’. The experience of flow came to represent the opposite to these states of dis-ease.

Csikszentmihalyi (1997) describes the flow state as an ‘optimal experience’ that occurs when:

a person’s body or mind is stretched to its limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997: 3).

He insists that a state of flow is ‘something we make happen’. Every flow activity he identified had several things in common:

It provided a sense of discovery, a creative feeling of transporting the person into a new reality. It pushed the person to higher levels of performance, and led to previously undreamed-of states of consciousness. In short, it transformed the self by making it more complex. In this growth of the self lies the key to flow activities (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997: 74).

Csikszentmihalyi rejects the notion that consciousness can be expanded, saying that rather, in an optimal experience, it is brought into an ordered state ‘which gives us the impression of having broadened it somehow’ (1997: 73). Additionally, he suggests that psychedelic compounds ‘from magic mushrooms to alcohol’ ultimately negate the joy of the flow experience as they induce a sense of loss of control (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997: 73).

The descriptions that follow from pasajeros indicate that the use of ayahuasca can induce a flow state that meets a number of the criteria outlined by Csikszentmihalyi. There is also, however, a significant difference. More consistent with the concept of wei-wu-wei in Taoism, the flow states described by pasajeros tended not to be attached to material goals or physical performance. Wei-wu-wei is ‘the central paradox of Taoism’, translating to ‘the action of non- action’ which incorporates a more passive existential approach in which the mind remains in harmony with the Oneness during ordinary states of consciousness (Loy, 1985: 73). Where Csikszentmihalyi (1997: 119) insists that the ‘normal state of consciousness’ remains in a state of entropy without disciplined attention on goals and outcomes, Taoists see the controlling actions of the mind as an interference to the possibility of a flow state in normal consciousness. For pasajeros, the latter was most commonly highlighted in their representations of the flow state. They highlighted the ‘barriers’ to this state, not as lack of disciplined attention, but rather in terms of the relative restriction and pollution, both within the body and mind.

176 THE BODY BARRIER

For some pasajeros, the body is recognised predominantly as ‘housing’ for the mind (and/or spirit), a site in which they are held in confinement as part of the existential condition (see Chapter 4). Reflecting notions of Cartesian duality, the experience of Self in these instances can be markedly different depending on the relative connection between the elements of body and mind, as well as the relative ‘purity’, particularly of the body.

For Mary M., the body represented the primary cause for restricting her experience of bliss:

The geometric patterns all happened at the beginning and it was kind of like letting my body go and then I’d grab something and be like ‘oh no, my body’s there’, and then I’d let my body go and then I’d grab something, and I’d be like: ‘Am I here? Am I there?’ Every time I’d be in this blissful experience, I’d be like ‘I’m so humble and grateful for this’, and then every time I would grab, It would say: ‘oh you want to be reminded of what it feels like to be in the body; the suffering of the body?’ And I would hear so loud, everybody purging and I would feel the aches from sitting, the nausea or something, and I would be like, ‘thank you for the reminder. The body is full of suffering’.

In her description, the experience of being in the body and the experience of the Self in the form of consciousness are distinct, with one being the residence of suffering while the other is the seat of ecstasy. The body, then, and existence in human form is recognised as a limiting, restrictive factor for consciousness, bringing attention and focus to suffering much in the same way as is described in Buddhist philosophy.

Coming from the perspective of the Torah, Jewish spiritual advisor Simon recognised the body as a vehicle of separation. He referred to his experience of childhood sexual abuse in terms of ‘venom’ that had been injected into his body, comparing it to the venom of the snake ingested by Adam in the Garden of Eden that resulted in the original act of individuation:

[Adam] couldn’t be in Paradise any more. There was something about him that was incongruent to Paradise.

Simon said that he had been unconsciously trying to rid himself of the venom inside of him all of his life, but that he had come to the realisation that it was probably not possible:

As long as I’m an individual, as long as I’m a body, as long as I’m Other than the Oneness … that’s what keeps me here, is the impurity … I can get pretty clean, but there’s no such thing as being totally clean … There’s always going to be some stuff in you and that’s what keeps you as Other, and it’s not a matter of losing myself, it’s a matter of being in relationship as a Self. 177 Both Mary and Simon experienced the body as a site of inherent suffering. While Mary was able to transcend her body in a state of altered consciousness, Simon indicated that he believed that existential suffering could be alleviated on an ongoing basis—if not completely, then at least to a large degree—through certain processes of purification. He spoke of both the ikaros and his lifestyle choices in terms of purification tools:

[I was] letting myself be tuned [by the ikaros] … I’m very into the concept of resonance and frequencies and harmonics, and I think of the world in terms of the physics of music … I was getting deeper, clearer, just getting tuned … Then I got into this whole thing of what I need to do now … What toxic things do I have to get out of my life? … What do I have to embrace? [So many] insights.

As his body was being ‘tuned’, Simon felt that his mind, too, became clearer. In this understanding, the body and mind are recognised as potentiating experiences that could be conceived of in terms of a continuum—in a state of existential dis-ease at one extreme, and of absolute wellness at the other. Simon experiences this continuum in terms of relative dissonance and resonance, which ultimately affects the quality of connection he is able to experience in his relationships to Other, and ultimately in his relationship with Oneness—his ultimate goal— which he refers to as ‘coming home’. He recognises this ultimate state in terms of increased resonance and harmonics between his existential state and that part of him that came from the Oneness: the essential Self. As they converge, ‘Paradise’ comes nearer.

Providing an alternative understanding of the relationship between mind and body, and the necessity of a harmonious relationship between them, facilitators at the Temple often used the terminology of the ‘head’ and the ‘heart’, stating that to ‘move from the head to the heart’ can act as a powerful remedy to the predominantly intellectual, rational approach to life embraced in Western culture (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017k). Matthew stated that this was a pervasive issue identified by the maestr@s in their work with Westerners, and that a predominant focus in their work has consequently involved re-establishing a healthy connection between the head and the heart. In an introductory talk, he said:

If the heart is open, we are connected. It’s the portal to our Higher Self ... So the ikaros work to release this chainmail that is stuck over our heart … That really is a key to the longer- term work with Oni. … Once our heart is open, this is the key to true healing.

In addition to the ikaros, many of the plant medicines prescribed to pasajeros to complement their ayahuasca ceremonies are used for this express purpose: to reconnect (Matthew called this ‘re-membering’) all parts of the Self, thus allowing connection with Other.

178 Olimpia utilised the language of biology when referring to the internal barriers she perceived between her brain (mind) and her heart (body):

I think [ayahuasca] works on an energy level. When we get stressed we’re creating blocks in our body and our energies. The heart is the most important organ in our body from my understanding and I know that the electromagnetic field that is released through the heart is much stronger than the mind. [The heart] is the first organ that we receive the world around us with and this electromagnetic field is distributed along the spinal cord and goes into the brain. When this is disturbed, when the heart is out of harmony because of some issue we had in the past, the energies can’t flow nicely. How, I don’t know, but Ayahuasca removes all those blocks and She lets this energy flow, and once this energy is in harmony … it allows us to reasonably approach our emotion and deal with it appropriately.

Like Simon, Olimpia refers to the quest for ‘harmony’ between the body and mind. She adopts a more scientific approach in her explanation, however, describing experiential selfhood in terminology that closely reflects information emergent from the HeartMath Institute. In an overview of their research, McCraty (2015: 36) states that heart is an important element of energetic communication, carrying information and signals that can be perceived by, and thus have effect on, surrounding individuals. His research suggests that:

when a person is in a physiologically coherent state, he or she exhibits greater sensitivity in registering the electromagnetic signals and information patterns encoded in the fields radiated by others’ hearts (McCraty, 2015: 41-2).

A state of coherence, he says, occurs when the mental, emotional, physical and spiritual domains are interacting harmoniously. Coherence, says McCraty (2015: 12) has measurable effects on ‘health, mental functions, perception, happiness and energy levels’ while also influencing the ‘global field environment’, ultimately helping to ‘strengthen and stabilize mutually beneficial feedback loops between human beings and Earth’s magnetic fields’. In this discourse, the open flow of energy between the heart and the brain is integral, both for internal stability and close connection with others—the opposite of the ‘anomie and alienation’ identified by Csikszentmihalyi (1997: 86).

The body and the heart in these discourses (and I noticed the labels were often used interchangeably), while recognised as a potential barrier to total connection with Other, has the ability to become more or less available for connection. While the state of separation represents a state of dissonance, entropy, and incoherence, ‘incongruent to Paradise’, the removal of barriers (venom, blocks) can allow for greater resonance, integration, and coherence. It this way the body can be conceived of as moving further along the continuum, closer to what Simon 179 refers to as the Oneness and what others have identified as the essential Self. This occurs as the experience of flow intensifies.

THE MIND BARRIER

The love of knowledge is a kind of madness. C.S. Lewis (2015 [1938]: 44)

In each of the discourses above, the relationship of the mind to the body is integral. However, as I indicated in Chapter 4, the intellectual mind can prove to be the biggest barrier to the experience of healing and ‘living well’ of all. I noted that in the cases when pasajeros did not ultimately have experiences that could be equated to peak experiences, many of them fell into the category that I conceive of as ‘determinedly rational thinkers’. When pasajeros attempted to perpetually analyse their ongoing experiences during ceremonies and/or when they consistently experienced intense fear at times when the ‘grip’ of their logical mind began to loosen, ceremonies tended to be tumultuous, often described in terms of ‘spiraling’ through repeating thought sequences that led to ongoing nausea as the intellectual mind fought to stay in control while the ayahuasca acted to encourage release.

The Temple website (2017a) states:

Beware of the mind during the healing process. The mind prefers familiarity, which is why patterns and programs are so hard to disable. Simply put, we cannot get our heads around the healing process. When we use our minds to understand, analyze and comprehend our emotional issues, we are using the wrong tools for the job. The mind often doesn’t approve of change and appears to discourage us from our healing. Instead, we must work at a deeper level—directly through our emotions and into our energy body. This process develops our emotional intelligence.

Twins, Liam and James (Australia, 21, Camp Attendants), came to understand that it was indeed the mind that created effective barriers to their experience of being in flow and connection, both during and outside of ceremony. In their accounts, flow was expressed in terms of living in the present moment rather than being caught up in fears based on the past and projected into possible futures. Liam said:

There was this ‘ah-ha’ moment last night. It was like: ‘just stop thinking, stop grasping onto thoughts’ … It came from [the facilitator’s] advice: ‘You’ve just got to let go. It’s the best thing you can do, just get out of the way.’ Once I got out of the way, it opened it up to just such a brilliant thing … there was just blank bliss. And I felt like I was floating through space ... my reward for doing that was that I was being shown so much more … I

180 knew that I was getting in the way. My thoughts, like me is getting in the way of the experience.

Liam’s reference to ‘opening up’ indicates that the processes of rational thought act as reducing mechanisms. Indeed, during conversations at the Temple, Aldous Huxley’s notion of the brain as a ‘reducing valve’ was often discussed. Journalist, Tom Wolfe, wrote of Huxley’s observation:

In ordinary perception, the senses send an overwhelming flood of information to the brain, which the brain then filters down to a trickle it can manage for the purpose of survival in a highly competitive world. Man has become so rational, so utilitarian, that the trickle becomes most pale and thin. It is efficient, for mere survival, but it screens out the most wondrous part of man's potential experience without his even knowing it. We're shut off from our own world (Wolfe, 1968: 44; emphasis in original).

In a similar vein, Abram (1996: 59) posits the Western propensity for reductionist rationalism as a key obstacle to the experience of ‘magic’:

Encouraged by a cultural discourse that disdains the unpredictable and puts a premium on detached objectivity, such persons attempt to halt the participation of their senses in the phenomenon.

For Liam, the experience of ‘getting out of the way’ indeed opened him up to ‘so much more’, indicating that the ‘trickle’ identified by Wolfe intensified to wondrous proportions. Applying this practice to his daily life, Liam claimed that his social anxiety and depression were ‘gone now’ as he practiced what he called a ‘new skill set’ that allowed him to remain in present- moment flow in his ongoing interactions with others.

Writing of the power of ritual, Douglas (2008 [1966]: 117) states: ‘Energy to command and special powers of healing come to those who can abandon rational control for a time’. In his description, Liam reported what for him was significant healing of sometimes-debilitating mental health issues as a result of his decision to relinquish rational control.

Liam’s twin brother, James, who also suffered from social anxiety, described his own experience of learning about the flow experience. He explained that even though he ‘put up a front’ in social situations, he was aware that on some level, others ‘knew’ that he was not comfortable. He then described his experience of this in ceremony:

It was colours. I saw me going up to people, and it was like grey, or purple … I saw my head on a bubble-head, and my friends’ heads as well, and it wasn’t flowing. People were moving around bumping into each other when I was feeling bad and thinking too much— ‘I’m thinking, I’m thinking, I’m thinking, I’m analysing’—but when I stopped thinking

181 and analysing it would turn blue, and then we’d hold hands and dance. And I’d get shown different situations and I could like tweak the emotion almost, and it would change the colour. It was about relaxation too. I would relax and it would make them relax. It was almost like a gift for them, you know, when I was cool. And then we all held hands and danced … I’m realising this now: when I’ve got fear, it ruins the natural flow of things and when I don’t, you go into synchronicity. And the funny thing is, I used to rip on hippies so much and now I’m the biggest hippy! It’s so ironic.

Similarly to his brother, James was able to identify marked differences in the way he related to other people in his subsequent social interactions when outside of ceremonies. For both of them, the identification of the flow experience when they were able to relax, to desist from the practices of labelling and analysing, and to remain present in the moment, allowed them to experience a sense of freedom that they could utilise to mitigate what they referred to as ‘suffering’ in their daily lives.

In Ross’ account (UK/South Korea, 37, English teacher), he too identified the predisposition of the mind to label and categorise as an inhibition to being in flow:

One of the images I got was just a whole flow of images … like various rivers of images just flowing into each other, and then what happened was I saw the words ‘name’ and ‘form’ and they got stuck onto this flow of images. And as soon as that happened it was like the flow stopped … One of the things I was getting taught was … the ayahuasca realm is a realm of five dimensions and everything is just flowing and I just have to learn to step into that flow, and if I start applying my 3D style of thinking, you know, this tendency to name, label, and attach to things like how we operate in this world, then it’s going to freeze, stop the experience … So the lesson that I got was that it was very important for me to surrender and trust this flow.

In each of these cases, the predisposition of the mind to grasp, label, and/or analyse proved disruptive; the act of rational thought to control the unfolding experience of the present moment acted as an impediment to what was otherwise an elating experience incorporating expanded conscious awareness. Ayahuasca’s action could be recognised here to metaphorically ‘turn down’ or, some might even argue, to ‘switch off’ the reducing capacity of the brain on consciousness, allowing for what many posited as experiences of expanded awareness in which the realms of the subconscious and higher consciousness became available to conscious perception. It was in these realms that Douglas’ ‘power’ (2008 [1966]: 117), Wolfe’s ‘potential’ (1968: 44), and Abram’s ‘magic’ (1996: 59) became possible. Where the rational mind became effectively ‘solidified’ through its determination to exert control over the psychedelic experience in ceremony, however, it was interesting that the ‘boundary’ of ordinary 182 consciousness itself effectively began to act like a ‘barrier’ between aspects of the Self. From the data I gathered at the Temple, this particular barrier to expanded awareness appeared to be one of the most difficult for ayahuasca to affect overall.

Ayahuasca did not always act to directly displace malevolent thoughts from the (intellectual) mind as it removed malevolent imprints from the body and/or the body-mind. Changes in belief systems tended more often to emerge through interpretations of experience instead. In a reversal of predominant Western ontological prioritisation, then (see Chapter 4), the operation of reason became a source of interference with and danger to the body and soul, due to its activity to effectively maintain separation.

Ideals of ‘non-action’ emergent from Taoism then become salient. For pasajeros discussed in this section, the notions of ‘letting go’, ‘relaxing’, and ‘surrender’ proved most efficacious. Inherent in these descriptions is the unfolding of experience in the present moment. Mooji (2015: sec. 0:50), a spiritual teacher of the Advaita Vedanta school of Hinduism, says: ‘This is one thing that really marks the people who are aware, is that they’re always fresh’, by which he means they are continually reinvented out of the emptiness of the present moment. Ultimately, he indicates that the present moment can be recognised as the only instant in which thought is not required. It is continuously unfolding, flow being its very essence. When experiencing the flow of the present moment, pasajeros came to understand that the imposition of the limits created by remaining attached to the physical body or applying the controlling mechanisms of the mind—both of which relate to being in ‘human’ form—created discomfort. A certain ‘loss of self-consciousness’ (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997: 64) was thus a common element to each of these flow experiences. Csikszentmihalyi (1997: 64) says:

being able to forget temporarily who we are seems to be very enjoyable. When not preoccupied with our selves, we actually have a chance to expand the concept of who we are. Loss of self-consciousness can lead to self-transcendence, to a feeling that the boundaries of our being have been pushed forward.

Reflecting a similar recognition of the joy inherent in moving beyond the boundaries of self- consciousness, Spira (2017), a therapist and teacher of a Hindu tradition of non-duality, said: ‘The greatest discovery in life is to discover that our essential nature does not share the limits nor the destiny of the body and mind.’ The ayahuasca experience often reveals the rational mind—the logical mind, the ‘monkey mind’ as it is often labelled—as its own worst enemy for those who prioritised this mode of navigation through their lives. When pasajeros were able to transcend its boundaries, they appeared to instinctually work toward maintaining flow in the present moment however they could. For many, that state led them to new experiences of self- transcendence.

183 FLOW AND THE ESSENTIAL SELF

The free flow of energy, while creating a sense of health in a practical way, also manifested for many pasajeros as a signal of peak experience, of a state of consciousness akin, if not to ultimate enlightenment, then at minimum to a sure sense of experiencing the true (authentic) essence of the Self. Maslow (1943: 383), in his development of Goldstein’s (1995 [1939]) notion of ‘self-actualisation’, suggests that it is a ‘basic need’ that involves becoming ‘more and more what one is, to become everything that one is capable of becoming’. Larsen and Buss (2008) suggest that both peak experiences and experiences of flow occur regularly for self- actualised people.

For pasajeros, the descriptions of their experiences tended to incorporate notions of both peak experience and flow, each commonly infused with imageries of ‘Heaven’, ‘bliss’, ‘joy’ and ‘peace’, and always including references to a sense of expansion beyond the self as experienced in the normal waking state of embodied consciousness. These were experiences of being wholly present, fully engrossed in the moment.

Eckhart Tolle (2006: 58) states: ‘When you yield internally, when you surrender, a new dimension of consciousness opens up’. Hope for this experience formed the foundation for Nakita’s aspirations. She recognised her own disposition to assert control over her environment as her main barrier to transformation:

I would like to have a total transformation. I would say my biggest lesson in life is learning to trust and let go and just go with the flow, and I feel like I’ve been standing on the edge of a cliff and it’s time to jump off into the unknown and trust. And now I’m down to just one finger clinging to the edge of the cliff. It’s a very strong hold, even with just that one finger and if I could just take it off, everything will shift … It’s just fear, fear of the unknown which is human nature, learning to trust … And I’m realising the energy it takes not to go with the flow … so I’m learning that effortless flow and I think that’s very much what the medicine is about.

As is predominant for foreign visitors to the Temple born into a culture of individuation, Nakita attributed her lack of ability to flow to her own predisposition to manage her surroundings as a form of control and personal protection. She identified her lack of trust in the flow process as an impediment to her sense of freedom. This discourse again aligns with Taoism, indicating a belief that there is a force beyond her current perception that would guide her life if she could allow herself to trust in it, a greater force that it is taking her much effort to work against but that would be relatively effortless to work in harmony with. Loy (1985: 75) states that: ‘complete "not acting" requires eliminating the sense-of-self which is inclined to interfere.’

184 Similarly, Nakita suspects that relinquishing her need to ‘hold on’ to control would lead to effortless flow. In her interview after the workshop, she described the moment she went over the cliff and the results of that experience:

Last night I fell over the side, and it was so beautiful. It was like flying and when I got towards the bottom, Mother Earth just scooped me up in her arms and I hung out with her, just sitting with her as a great tree for the whole night.

Asked if it took effort on her behalf to go over the side, she replied: ‘It just naturally happened. I just kind of floated off over the side.’ She then experienced what she named ‘Heaven’:

It's very hard to translate the essence of that experience into words. It is an experience. You feel it, you're filled with it, you see it all at once. It's something that's pure life, totally alive. It's almost, imagine like a spiral staircase and it just keeps expanding up and out, and just that absolute feeling of peace and joy, and everything. The sound, it’s like angels singing and what you see is just the most tremendous beauty. But it's just so multi- faceted. It's constantly changing before your eyes. It's not static. It's really, really alive.

This experience of dynamic expansion is common in descriptions of flow and usually contains the element of trust as part of what Nakita identified as ‘going with the flow’. Tom described his experience of ‘enlightenment’ in similar terms and came to understand that the suffering of the body could be alleviated at the moment of its attainment. Having experienced many years of pain and discomfort, his hours of participation in spontaneous yoga poses during ceremonies were akin to a miracle for him:

I was told that I was now enlightened, and I truly believed, I truly knew that I was enlightened. And that’s what It was saying, that there’s no more problems, nothing. All suffering was over and I heard the quote from Buddha: ‘Enlightenment is the end of suffering’ … The whole time through the whole ceremony, I was just incredibly sharp- minded—after the visions this is—when I was doing the yoga, I was just very straight … I felt really, I don’t know if ‘elegant’ is the right word, like, you know like how Buddhist monks or something, they’re incredibly, just like perfectly … like, I’d just sort of sit there and look over the whole ceremony and just feel like some sort of master in a sense, mind completely clear, eyes open, I’d feel clean … all the breathing I was doing through the yoga was just so smooth. I’ve never had such a beautiful amount of air, and the sweetness of the air. I was just at peace. [As my body was going through the yoga poses] I was just like letting it all happen. It was amazing.

In Tom’s description, his experience of ‘enlightenment’ involved ‘just like letting it all happen’ rather than attempting to guide or control the situation in any way. Reflecting

185 Csikszentmihalyi’s (1997: 40) descriptions of psychic ‘negentropy’, and McCraty’s (2015: 12) representation of ‘coherence’, Tom spoke of mental clarity, purity, and peace, all unfolding smoothly in the present moment. Within this experience was a sense of mastery in which the restrictions of mundane selfhood were transcended.

Nutritional therapist, yoga instructor, reiki master, energy healer and doula, Liana (USA, 40), had been working with energy medicine for many years before arriving at the Temple. She advised: ‘My heart chakra was already open, so I didn’t have a lot of energetic blocks’, and described the experience of what she labelled her ‘kundalini awakening’ in one of her ayahuasca ceremonies:

The bliss was indescribable. As the kundalini continued to wind all the way up through my chakras, it poured out of my crown and down … There was a beautiful absence of most thought of any kind. It was just incredibly meditative, it was all sensation, it was all in my body, and it was the most incredible, energising, blissful ecstasy. It just went on and on and on … I got up [from my mat] the first thing I remember is my bare feet touching the wood floor, everything was making love to me.

Liana went on to describe her experience of interconnection, bliss and Love: ‘Everything was me. Everything was Love. The Universe was making love to me.’

It is interesting to note that in these descriptions, there exist both representations of a coherent, holistic, integrated Self, and those that imply oneness with Others. Csikszentmihalyi (1997: 41) notes that this apparent paradox reveals a complexity inherent in the flow experience:

Complexity is the result of two broad psychological processes: differentiation and integration. Differentiation implies a movement toward uniqueness, toward separating oneself from others. Integration refers to its opposite: a union with other people, with ideas and entities beyond the self. A complex self is one that succeeds in combining these opposite tendencies.

Descriptions by pasajeros reflect this paradox. They indicate that as the mind and the body, or mind and heart, move toward a greater state of coherence (resonance; harmony), the Self as a unique, separate entity becomes increasingly available for connection with others. Inevitably, experiences such as these tend to induce a deep sense of gratitude.

GRATITUDE

[Through your intention] begin to establish a relationship with the conscious beings that are going to be working on you. In a ceremony—I go back to this being a hospital—it’s not just Doctor Ayahuasca. Each one of the healers has dieted a multitude of different plants, so in

186 ceremony there will be 30, 40, 50, 60 doctors in here tonight. You’re just going to see the physical ones as the Onanya, but they bring in the rest of the doctors that they’ve worked with through their dietas. And it’s those doctors that are going to be working with you, carrying out operations, singing, etcetera, so at the beginning, putting it out there, that appreciation, gratitude, thanks, even from the beginning, even before you’ve started this process. You know the energy of gratitude is really powerful, really beautiful. Matthew (Introductory Talk, 4th November, 2012).

While the experiences encountered in ayahuasca ceremonies can be difficult, and sometimes harrowing, breakthrough moments of insight, learning, release, and revelation; of connection, peak experience, authenticity, and flow, were consistently met with deep gratitude. Some pasajeros emerged with a sense that their lives would never be the same.

Haley (Netherlands, 41, Health Worker), for example, who had arrived at the Temple two years prior to our meeting underweight, suffering from drug addictions, sex addiction, and long-term insomnia, spoke in tones of love and awe about now having no desire for her past addictions and sleeping through the night for the first time since she was a child. She reported: ‘Ayahuasca is my biggest love’, saying that following her first experiences in ceremonies, she cried every day for six months from ‘pure joy’:

Oh my god, oh my god, I could not believe this was happening to me. I thought I have to die and be born again … I never expected it to be like this. I did a lot of therapy and stuff, a lot of medication and nothing worked … I'm always very grateful for what she's giving me. Even when I think it's nothing, nothing much happened, I still was grateful ... I feel so humble. I'm just a human being ... All things what's happening to me, I'm grateful for, truly grateful.

For Haley, her expression of humility and gratitude are expressed in terms of disbelief that Ayahuasca could change her life to the degree it had. Her appreciation comes from a sense of being given a great privilege. Similarly, Nakita said:

I’m just so grateful … I asked someone the other day, ‘I wonder what percentage of the population has worked with ayahuasca?’ It’s got to be very, very small. And I just, I feel so privileged to have found this place and to have that access to this level of healing.

Michaela (Portugal, 30, Dance Psychotherapist) also perceived the extent of knowledge she had acquired in terms of its magnitude:

There was always like a huge gratitude and respect, because especially those first two [ceremonies] were just completely blissful and amazing. It was like, ‘Wow! I understand everything! I understand why Buddha was laughing like that; I’m laughing like that.’

187 The level of gratitude expressed by pasajeros tended to be articulated in terms that indicated significant surprise. The intensity of the healing, knowledge, and/or insights they gained, particularly when previously rational concepts became embodied through direct experience, was invariably beyond their previous scope of experience. Their delight inferred it was also beyond their expectations. Their degree of gratitude often presented in direct correlation to the depth of wonder they felt at the novel ways they were taught lessons or given insights, the speed and efficacy of healing for issues that had been the basis of many years of therapy, and the extent to which they were able to embody emotions such as joy and Love. Mary M. said:

[In ceremony] I just kept saying, ‘I’m grateful for these lessons, I’m grateful for these reminders, I’m grateful.’ And every time I’d go, ‘oh, I understand,’ the medicine would say ‘mn, mn, mn. No you don’t,’ and I would say ‘I’m beginning to understand’ and get: ‘that’s better.’ And so I felt like I was this really humble student. Really, really humble … A lot of humility and gratitude. I was overwhelmed by it. It was a blissful experience of humility and gratitude.

Psychologist, Robert Emmons (2010) recognises gratitude as a: ‘relationship-strengthening emotion because it requires us to see how we’ve been supported and affirmed by other people’. He identifies two components of gratitude that work in this way: firstly, that it affirms ‘goodness’; and secondly, that it recognises ‘the sources of this goodness as being outside of ourselves’ (Emmons, 2010). Practicing gratitude, he says, encourages a vast array of physical, psychological, and social benefits. The acknowledgement of ‘goodness’ given by others, including that from ‘higher powers’, encourages individuals to recognise their ‘humble dependence’ on others for the achievement of positive outcomes in their lives (Emmons, 2010). Stellar et al. (2017) identify gratitude as a ‘self-transcendent emotion’, recognising it as an important evolutionary component of sociality, and thus survival, in humans. Along with ‘compassion … appreciation, inspiration, admiration, elevation, and love’, gratitude is recognised for its ability to shift ‘attention towards the needs and concerns of others, rather than self’ (Stellar et al., 2017: 2), representing another method of diminishing ‘self-consciousness’ as identified by Csikszentmihalyi in the section on flow. Another of these emotions is awe (Stellar et al., 2017: 2).

AWE

Writing about the desire for ‘intoxication’, Siegel (2005: 206) suggests that in both humans and many animals the compulsion to move toward altered states of being is a ‘fourth drive’, present alongside those for food, shelter, and sex. Huxley (2004 [1954]: 62) states that ‘the longing to transcend [oneself] if only for a few moments, is and has always been one of the principle

188 appetites of the soul.’ Levin and Steele (2005) identify awe as one of the defining characteristics of a transcendent experience. ‘Awe’, states Shiota (2016: min. 4:30), is ‘a fundamental aspect of the human experience that really enriches our meaning and life.’ She defines awe as:

an emotional response to physically or conceptually extraordinary stimuli that challenge our normal day-to-day frame of reference and are not already integrated into our understanding of the world (Shiota, 2016: min. 2:00).

Shiota states that the majority of experiences that elicit feelings of awe in people involve extraordinary phenomena, emergent both from Nature—sunsets, panoramic views, the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis), for example—as well as extraordinary human-made creations— architecture such as the Taj Majal, particular artworks, forms of dance and music, and extraordinary feats performed by the human body. Meyer (2016) refers to it as the ‘wow’ effect.

In empirical research undertaken on awe, Shiota et al. (2007) suggest that when awe is experienced, an unusually large amount of information is absorbed from the environment, which acts to change how the world is perceived and understood. Significantly, people subsequently tend to feel relatively ‘small’ or ‘insignificant’ in the presence of something so much greater than the Self (Piff et al., 2015; Shiota et al., 2007). Participants in this research repeatedly reported this in terms of ‘humility’ and recognised it as a positive experience, eliciting feelings of increased connectedness with the world as boundaries of the Self diminished and the experience of the Self thus expanded to incorporate far more. Bai (in Suttie, 2017) states that while the focus on independence in the United States tends to elicit a sense of a larger self-size, ‘the small-self brought on by awe doesn’t decrease social status.’ This enigma, she says is ‘something unique to awe’ that can have a significant effect on a far larger scale as it acts to break down self-interest, instead inspiring greater concern for the collective (also see Bai et al., 2017; Stellar et al., 2017).

LOVE

In the field and throughout interviews, I noted the consistency with which each of the themes that I have identified in this chapter, as well as those in Chapter 5, were discussed metonymically with the concept of Love. Each was recognised—albeit often tangentially—as constituents of the experience of Love and thus was regularly absorbed and/or interchanged under the umbrella of this term. As has been the case with the previous themes in both this chapter and the last, for some pasajeros this ultimate, foundational aspect of the Self is recognised in terms of the Creator Force shared by all sentient beings: God, the God-Self, Universal Consciousness, and/or Oneness recognised through a lived experience of Love. For all that touched into this experience, they perceived that their lives were changed forever. 189 SEEKING HEALING; LOOKING FOR LOVE

For many pasajeros visiting the Temple, Love was a foundational component of their aspirations. Expressions of intention for committing the large amounts of money, time and other resources to visiting Peru to sit in plant medicine ceremonies tended predominantly to include aspirations to find life purpose, healing, joy, and peace, and the closer pasajeros come to experiencing these outcomes, the more likely I found that they were to ultimately express their experiences in terms of Love. For some, they arrived with their attention focused pointedly toward the acquisition of Love; not necessarily the love of another within the context of intimate relationship—although this may have been an anticipated consequence—but rather the Love that they sensed residing at their core: the internal ‘landing place’ for the self they experience in ordinary conscious once it comes into harmonious connection with the purest essence of the Self that many intuited exists but which had hitherto remained elusive. For many pasajeros, the ability to exist in a state of Love and to function on a daily basis from that place was fundamental to their ideals regarding a happy, peaceful and joyous life. Further to this, I noted a pervasive expectation—or at least hope—that beyond being merely a state of being, Love had the potential as a state of efficacy in which disease could be diminished and ultimately obliterated. It was posited as a precursor to self-produced personal wellbeing, a force through which personal healing, as well as the healing of others could manifest; and it symbolised a journey completed, sometimes expressed in terms of enlightenment.

When discussing her intentions for her time at the Temple, Julia (USA, 31, Health and Tourism) stated:

My intention is really to fall in love with myself. And I really feel that through … really feeling a true connection with myself, allowing myself to really drop into me, I feel like all of the other stuff is going to work itself out … I’m my biggest barrier to anything I really want. I get in my own way all the time … Now I’m realising that it all boils down to Self-Love.

Reflecting the ponderings of surrealist, André Breton, who said: ‘All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name’,163 many pasajeros indicated a sense of inherent perfection within the Self that remains inaccessible, but which entices them, creating a ‘longing’ that Siegel (2005) suggests is the fourth drive. The Love they yearn for is a ‘perfect’ Love. Paradoxically, the aspect of ‘Me’ that yearns—the existential self of ordinary consciousness—is

163 Poet and theorist, André Breton, author of the Manifesto of Surrealism (1924), is widely credited with the quote: ‘Toute ma vie, mon coeur a aspiré à une chose que je ne peux pas nommer’, although it is uncertain where it originated.

190 also recognised as the creator of the very barriers that prevent it. This aspect is most commonly recognised as the ego-self: that part which remains vulnerable and in need, while simultaneously remaining recalcitrant, requiring discipline and guidance in order for all else to ‘work itself out’.

Simon spoke of this experience of separation within the Self as being embedded in some religious discourses. Discussing his understanding from this perspective founded in Jewish philosophy, he stated:

People are looking to come home … Any time you play a melody: [sings] do, re, me, fa, so, la, ti, do. Doooo, reeeee—you can’t stop there. Do, re, mi, fa, so—you can’t stop there, you’ve got to go home … Everything in creation is built that way … We start at home, we leave home, we spend our whole lives trying to come back home, and people are coming home … People are waking up and saying ‘we were thrust out of the Oneness 14 billion years ago and we’re starting to come back and have this awareness that yeah, I want to be in relationship back with you’. It’s a movement towards fundamentals.

‘Home’ for Simon is the ‘Oneness’, the pure place of ‘Paradise’ where the individuated self comes into resonant harmony with the Creator Force. For many, ayahuasca illuminated a path.

LIVING LOVE WITH AYAHUASCA

In the descriptions provided so far in this chapter, one pervasive theme has been the ‘magnitude’ with which pasajeros have experienced hitherto unknown aspects of themselves, their lives, and their abilities. When Love was the predominant experience, it often became overwhelming. Ania (USA/Poland, 45, Yoga & Massage Therapist) described her experience of it:

In the end there was this state of bliss, where I felt, aahhh, I felt like I see the fabric of the Universe. It was like threads … threads of Love [showing great emotion]. It was so amazing. I couldn’t stop crying … feeling so much gratitude. The gratitude was so overwhelming. My heart—that I can’t contain that much Love in my heart.

For Santhosh (Austria/India, 37, Nurse), who grew up in his father’s Roman Catholic church but later explored his mother’s Hindu background which he now identifies more closely with, his ultimate experience came as a culmination of an intense series of visions in which he underwent a series of operations carried out by machines and sculptures. He purged 20 or 30 ‘smelly, half- dead’ dragons, underwent a blood transfusion, had his urine and bowel movements tested, had his leg amputated and replaced, and had something that the machines deemed problematic cut

191 out of his heart. Once he was declared ‘perfect and clean’ they asked him what he wanted. He replied: ‘I want to be enlightened’:

[They said] ‘no, no, no! Look!’ … ‘Do you know what is Love?’ I say, not. ‘You don’t want to open your heart?’ I say, yes. ‘OK then, experience it’ [deep breath] … The angels came with the music, they want to start a ceremony. For me! [tears come to his eyes] … There is the heart. It start to radiate. The energy come through my body and heart and all living things, the angels, everyone is celebrating together with me. The peace, the joy, you know? My heart is open … The powerful is the heart. It’s radiating. And this radiation is coming to all beings and it’s peaceful, it’s peaceful, you can’t explain it. There is nothing more than this experience … Love, it’s the thing. There is no other energy, how I felt it, there is nothing more than that.

In these cases, the blissful state that is reached comes only after intensive experiences of purging, and the bliss is then recognised as all there is. The indication is that this aspect that resides and can be experienced within the Self, is only accessible after the perceived pollution held there is purged. Purity, then, is revealed as an integral characteristic. The existential or ego- self necessarily remains, and indeed appears to be the locus of meaning-making and decision- making that necessarily follows when experiences within ceremony are incorporated (or not) into daily life. The accumulation of pains and traumas that previously constituted it, however, is reportedly released. Once these ‘layers’ are removed, pasajeros report overwhelming beauty and sense that they have reached something ‘true’, something unwavering and reliable that they recognise as foundational to existence: ‘the fabric of the Universe’ (Ania); ‘there is nothing more than that’ (Santosh). The self and the Self appear to now have access to each other as the existential self is cleansed and thus transformed to a point that it becomes more like the purity of the essential Self. In this state, the Self as a holistic entity is in harmony, and it is experienced as Love.

Following a ceremony in which Liam learned to ‘be completely in the moment, without thinking’, he described his experience the following day from his newly found perspective:

[I’m experiencing] joy! … There’s no expectation, no concepts. Information comes in and you’re just happy. It’s not that you’re happy. You’re not sad. It’s the absence of sadness, it’s the absence of disappointment; it’s the absence of pain. I used to think that joy was a level to get up to but it’s just a baseline, because when there’s no pain left, there’s nothing to be sad about. You know who you are.

Saph (UK, 39, Construction Driver) described a similar understanding that he gained within ceremony, which he described in terms of Gnostic philosophy:

192 [Ayahuasca] kind of told me: ‘You’ve got many layers and each time one of those layers goes you’ll be able to sort of lift up.’ … The Gnostics believe you wear, like many lead overcoats, and each time you shed a lead overcoat you’re able to rise that little bit higher to Ascension.

These descriptions from pasajeros are notable for what they reportedly gained at a time when they perceive so much was being lost. Spiritual teacher, Adyashanti, who’s quote below has been posted multiple times on social media by past pasajeros since my time at the Temple, reflects this dynamic in his description of reaching Enlightenment, when he describes a process not as one in which something is attained, but rather in which untruths are eradicated:

Enlightenment is a destructive process. It has nothing to do with becoming better or being happier. Enlightenment is the crumbling away of untruth. It's seeing through the façade of pretense. It's the complete eradication of everything we imagined to be true (Adyashanti, 2008: 136-7).

This concept of stripping away the barriers between parts of the Self permeated many descriptions, reflecting the centrality and importance of Ayahuasca’s role as la purga (the purge). The act of purging appears to change the experience of the existential self to the degree that it alters its ‘energetic constitution’. Each of the themes presented in this chapter are recognised in terms of ‘high frequency’ emotions. Similarly, the reference to ‘light’ infiltrated many descriptions of Love. Liana stated:

I saw myself and everyone in the maloka in their light bodies … My entire body and everyone I could see around me was pure white light. What I was told … is that this is our natural state. What I was told by Aya, by my intuition, by the spirits, over and over again is: ‘This is our birth right. This is our bliss, our joy, this is what it should feel like all the time. And it’s accessible to all of us. It is us. It is who we are’, and that everything is literally made of Love. So it felt as if, when I was in that space, that I was making love with the universe and it was making love to me and that’s all there was. It didn’t even feel sexual really. It was just this incredible ecstasy and bliss.

Describing her experience of coming to ‘know God’, Stephanie said:

It’s almost beyond words … It was like that brightest light and expansion … I was literally, like, held in the arms of like … it was just bright light and this feeling of being loved which I’d just never experienced, ever like that … My heart was completely filled with this Love.

The experience of the light in these instances informs a conceptualisation of the essential Self as a form of vibration, a subtle form of existence that is experienced at a different level of

193 perception than the more dense vibration of the body and of earthly encounters. It is interesting to note that, just as Sven, above, mentioned the sense of ‘emotional orgasm’ he had while feeling connected to everything, Liana related her ecstatic experience of interconnection to ‘making love’. The notion of flow appears inherent in these descriptions as love flows between things and parts. For Liana, this was possible because ‘everything is literally made of Love’. This interpretation of meeting with Other in such an intimate and fulfilling way is reflected in Ram Dass’ (1971) description of Enlightenment:

Now the enlightened being… what happens to him is that he changes the nature of his love object from a specific love object to it all, finally. You would say that an enlightened being is totally in love with the universe, in the sense that everything in the universe turns him on to that place in himself where he is love and consciousness.

When they experience this state of being, pasajeros report knowing their essence. They reach an ‘end point’ that changes their lives, representing a whole new beginning. For many, they came to recognise this essence in terms of the foundational Creator Force, ultimately recognising this force within themselves.

LOVE AND GOD

Having recognised what was understood to be a foundational element in all creation, many pasajeros related to their experiences in religious and/or spiritual terms. The label of ‘God’— the ultimate loving, Creator Force—as well as alternative labels such as ‘Oneness’ and ‘Universal Consciousness’ which bypasses Christian representations of an anthropomorphised and separate God, were commonly utilised. For Stephanie, the light she experienced represented God’s presence within her heart—an experience that she could only conceptualise intellectually prior to her ceremonies; while Liana described the light as ‘who we are’ and ‘our natural state’. In each of these cases, the experience of light was classified as Love and this Love was experienced as an all-pervasive state of being, referred to by Liana as ‘our birth right’. Liam called this the ‘baseline’. He said: ‘you know who you are’. Just as Liana said, ‘everything is literally made of Love’, Ania reported seeing ‘the fabric of the Universe’. Sven also alluded to this in his description of being ‘completely connected to everything’. This sense of connection implies recognition, a familiarity, a sense of sameness he shared with his environment. These descriptions were stated as if they represented an integral truth. Beyond recognising this truth as a revelation of the essence of the Self, pasajeros sensed that this essence is intrinsic in all things in existence, coming from a singular, all-pervasive Source.

Karen (USA, 25), in the following description, revealed how her experience of Love and connection unfolded into an understanding that incorporated ‘all the worlds religions’:

194 I had always been very scared to love … of opening up that way from just a lot of abuse, but then it [became] so real and it was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced … So I was just laying there, loving … and then all of a sudden it was like … I wasn’t Karen any more. I was just this, like, Love that was spreading out over everything … it was this absolute pure Love for everything … And then I saw all the world’s religions … and I really zoomed in on this Buddhist-looking monk who was reading a text on Tantra and then it was like the whole book was in my mind and then all these books were in my mind—whatever my mind was at that moment—and I just understood, you know, what [all of the religious texts] were pointing to. And then Jesus came to me and just looked at me … It was so beautiful and what really rang through was that Jesus is not the exception, he was the example. And I just saw him as such an equal to whatever I was, and equal to All.

Karen then described her subsequent visionary experiences as ‘glimpses of the divine Mind’, which culminated in a sense of ‘nothingness’:

I blasted off into nothing. And then there was nothing … and it was so beautiful and it was like the whole song of the Universe had just sung … the peace that I felt there, I can’t really now conjure in this mind and in this body. But I can’t forget it … I was so much with God at that point.

In Karen’s experience, she both encompassed and was encompassed by Love. She felt herself ‘equal’ to Jesus and ‘so much with God’. Her experience, however, did not remain within a Christian context, but rather included all religions and all religious texts, which she said all point to the same thing. Like many others, while experiencing this state, Karen perceived that there was a sameness at the core of all things, and she recognised that core as Love. When she relates this way of being in Love to God, rather than revealing a relationship with a personal, anthropomorphic God, she instead alludes to a pantheistic representation of God.

Where God was referenced, it was this pantheistic notion that was most common.164 The recognition of a pantheistic God—of God in everything and thus at the core of the Self (see Chapter 7)—was invariably recognised for its power as a form of medicine. Gaining a sense of

164 There were two men from separate workshops who indicated in their interviews that as a result of their experiences in ceremony, they wanted to return to the practice of the faith they grew up with. One was Jewish and the other Catholic, both encompassing a monotheistic representation of God. Both had been sexually abused as boys and had rejected their religion as a result. During their ceremonies they had come to recognise value in their respective religions and thus determined to find new congregations that they could join upon returning home in order to reinstate the practice of their faith. In both cases, it was their experience of what they deemed as God’s Love that premised their decisions.

195 self-empowerment regarding their ability to contribute to their own healing was not contingent on experiencing Love as God, however. For some pasajeros, embodying Love itself, however named, was the source of the most potent efficacy, both for healing the self and for healing others.

LOVE AS MEDICINE

The sense of Love within was ultimately the most salient element in the experience of ‘being healed’, particularly for those experiencing mental illness, extreme trauma and/or abuse, as well as the compounded issues of addiction. Chadwick (USA, 30, Computer Technician) who was seeking help with mental health issues and what he felt was his unhealthy use of marijuana stated:

I feel like I’ve been reconnected to that happy kid in a lot of ways and damn, that’s cool … Early on, I was like ‘oh, what do I do? What do I do with my career, you know?’ or ‘what do I do with my love life’ or whatever … It doesn’t matter at all! All you have to do is just cultivate Love. That’s it … the rest will work itself out.

Mary B. (Canada, 58, retired), who had a traumatic childhood, had lived on the streets, and was dealing with drug and alcohol addictions said:

The little neglected girl that’s been nagging on me, ran into my arms and I was able to pick her up and hold her and tell her she was beautiful and how much I loved her. And also with the teenager that was a runaway and lost in drugs and promiscuity, I was able to comfort her. With that it was very healing because I realised that I was treating those two parts of me the way I was being treated by other people, so being able to embrace and Love them, I’m able to give myself self-Love. It’s really, really huge. I realised during the ceremonies that I can leave my past here. I can leave the story of Mary here and start fresh.

In these examples, discourses of self-healing emergent from psychotherapy, New Age approaches, and Western interpretations of Eastern—as well as many Indigenous—techniques of healing, are embraced. That an aspect of the Self was deemed to be able to fill the voids that family and society had created and/or left unattended, was deeply healing for many pasajeros. And while this sense of empowerment came for many as a recognition that God is within, this was also framed in more secular understandings, as shown by the these two examples above. The recognition of Love, and particularly in these cases of self-Love as a curative tool, does not appear to require a religious or spiritual belief system to be deemed effective.

196 Mary M. recognised that embodied Love could act in ways akin to a personal immunisation, effectively protecting her in her work as a psychologist from ‘other people’s stuff’. This in turn, she realised, would allow her to provide better treatment for her patients:

The protection piece. That was really important … there was this moment where there was lots of purging going on and I felt like all the bright coloured visions turned to black clouds … and I felt like the black clouds surrounded me and it was all other people’s stuff. And I was like, ‘oh, this is not good. I don’t want other people’s stuff attaching to me.’ … I just started smiling and I started feeding my heart energy, and I was like ‘I’m protected! I’m protected!’ The black smoke was coming around me and I realised I had a thin layer of protection around me and I was just glowing and radiating joy and Love and I was protected. All I have to do to protect myself is to be joyful and Loving.

Mary indicated here that when she embodied a Loving state by ‘feeding [her] heart energy’, energies that did not resonate with that state would be unable to ‘attach’ to her.

The application of Love as a medicine was not limited to personal healing and wellbeing. For some pasajeros, Love was the tool they could utilise in their lives directly for the purpose of helping others. When I asked Anne (New Zealand, 59, Doctor) about the essential elements in healing, she responded:

The setting has to be really caring and welcoming and nurturing [so] that people can relax. One maestra I met said that it's about Love and connection. That’s what happened in the ikaros. This spirit [the healer] has to connect with this spirit [the patient], but this spirit [the patient] has to be able to feel safe and trust. It’s through Love. It’s a whole palpable context. Connections are true, it’s an atmosphere of total care, total being, total absorption and being there for someone. And then this spirit [the patient] may or may not be able to respond … When I see that, not just in ceremonies, you know when people really feel [long pause] accepted for themselves and feel no criticism or judgment, then it’s like, wow, they just respond … I’ve seen that happen in different settings. It’s rare but it’s magic.

Sheila (USA, 48, Temple Goddess) adopted this approach to others as her life purpose, both within the context of her work as a somatic therapist, and in her life in general:

It's all just about divine Love and connecting to that, for me ... and joy. Just being in my joy [laughing] … When I say that I’m being called to do spiritual work, my message is, the way I can be of most spiritual help in the world is to maintain my joy, and to spread my Love and my joy and to share that with the world. I know that’s why God made me.

197 Both Anne and Sheila came to believe that embodied (divine) Love is efficacious, encouraging healing for others who come within its field. This aspiration reflects that which Matthew and other facilitators would speak of when they indicated that self-transformation acts like ripples in a pond, effectively encouraging healing through the resonance of the Love, and thus wellness, they embody.

THE LOVING HEALER

In interviews with various maestr@s from the Temple, the word ‘Love’ was not used at all. The maestr@s did, however, indicate that the ‘quality’ of their thoughts and emotions created an important foundation to their work. Maestro Rogelio explained:

It’s the same as religion, the plant spirits. When someone is dieting, one cannot be angry, or speaking lots. Be happy. Joyous … because in your diet, the strongest tests that come are the women. One must not be looking for women. Just like religion … Discipline … That’s what it is, that is the pure reality [the truth]. One must not be loving or wanting another, just oneself. But the brujos are not this way. They, uuuuf, they do not learn good things. They learn about things to destroy, to kill. Because if you start dieting, and you are angry, then you will become a brujo … that is why you have to be happy, very happy … I didn’t see [my wife] almost at all for 6 months … Rather, I was only concerned with my medicine. Always giving it happiness [laughs]. That is why I like to laugh. I like to converse, and I like music [laughs].

Maestro Rogelio highlighted here that the efficacy of the plant medicines is heavily influenced by the intention—and disposition—of the maestr@. If the practice of this medicine system is learned within a personal environment where worldly pleasures—particularly ‘carnal’ love, or desire—and ‘negative’ emotions are prioritised, the outcome is more likely to be destructive. Like Mary M. (above), the implication here is that the quality of ‘energy’ that is embodied has a definitive effect, both on the Self and on patients. For Rogelio, happiness, conversation, and music support an environment—both internal and external—conducive to healing. He asserted:

when I drink my ayahuasca it is to heal and to cure. There is nothing else. I do not drink with the desire to do harm. No! Rather, to try and liberate and help, that is the idea with which I always drink my ayahuasca. Yes.

While the Shipibo did not speak of Love directly in terms of healing, Westerners who worked as shamans often used the terminology when relating to positive intention in their work. In a discussion with an American healer, Maestro Don, who had been practicing the Shipibo system of plant medicine healing in Peru after many years of dieting, he posited Love as a central

198 element.165 When asked about the process of pulling energies out of patients, he laughed and replied: ‘We don’t pull anything out; we put Love in’. In a later email communication, I asked him to clarify this a little further for me. He drew comparisons between the Love that is central to his work, God, and the Divinity in each person:

I know that the Shipibo Maestros speak of going to war with malo [bad] spirits, as if they are of pulling things out of people etc. etc. This is a way of expressing and perhaps appears to be real to some although to me it is Spirit that heals. God alone. God is Love ...This Love that I speak of has many names: Spirit, God, Dios. These are words yet they convey the presence of Divinity. Love Heals … This Divinity is in each of us, in everything.

In this explanation, Maestro Don indicates that ‘the presence of Divinity’, that which is ‘Love’, is both the fundamental essence of human beings—and indeed, ‘in everything’—and the essential ingredient that generates a healing response within patients. In Maestro Don’s understanding, the warlike approach central to Shipibo healing is culturally informed and is not necessary for pasajeros or for other healers to adopt for healing to be effective. The ‘vibration’ of Love, he says, is expressed through the ikaros, and is the key ingredient that has efficacy over malo energies. He understands the ikaros as a manifestation of the highest vibration, a position echoed on the Temple website where they state that the ikaros are ‘puro sonido (pure sound) from the plants’ (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017j). They relate the ikaros to Pythagoras’ notion of harmonia: ‘the divine principle that brings order to chaos and discord’ (Montgomery in Temple of the Way of Light, 2017j).

During one of the workshops at the Temple, I interviewed a pasajero, Stuart (58), a (white) South African man who, while continuing to work in his electrical engineering business had just completed three years training as an African shaman after receiving a ‘calling’ in a dream. He similarly recognised Love as a healing tool:

My training was all about the power of Love … I don’t use medicine. Every time I’ve tried to use herbs and that, I’ve been blocked … I just work with Love.

While Stuart rejected the notion of evil or malo spirits existent in the Shipibo worldview, he experienced Shipibo plant medicine shamanism as set of practices complementary to his own. Stuart saw Love as the only language in the Universe, suggesting that anything that is not Love in its pure form is merely a manifestation of the need to return to Love. As an elemental force

165 Maestro Don had also previously worked extensively in India and with Native American healers.

199 experienced as synonymous to the essential Self, Love thus recognised becomes a powerful source of healing.

CONCLUSION

Transcending the lived experience of the existential self—the concepts of the self as perceived in ordinary consciousness—was a foundational aspiration for pasajeros, whether they were seeking healing or aiming to explore their consciousness further. As well as the experience of exploring what they perceived to lie beyond the self (as transcendence implies), pasajeros explored the constitution of the Self in its holistic form—that which lies beyond ordinary perceptual boundaries but is still available within. As boundaries of perception are traversed, moved beyond, or made more permeable (depending on perspective and individual modes of meaning-making) and barriers dissolved, eradicated, or integrated, that which is encountered is consistently met with awe, exuberant joy, and gratitude. Pasajeros indicate that what they meet there feels ‘true’.

Engaging in an authentic encounter with this ‘true’ nature—of Self and/or of Other— appears to expose those ‘parts’ within that exist in contrast to it. When revealed, the ‘onion layers’—what I have labelled ‘barriers’ to connection—tend to be perceived as ‘inauthentic’. They are revealed as separable—somehow inherited; not authentically, foundationally ‘Me’. The ‘authentic’ Self is met with a sense of recognition, as the ‘place’ that is healed and well. The meeting of these authentic places through connection with other Selves elicits descriptions of experiential ‘flow’ that potentiate (inter)relationship with multiple forms of (what was previously) Other. As the secular (existential) and sacred (essential) aspects of Self come into relationship, the potential for relationship with Other appears to be similarly enhanced. Flow ensues as parts intermingle.

For many pasajeros, the existential aspects of self—the body and the mind—are recognised as the loci of inhibition to relationship. At that point, the notions of purity and resonance become central. A ‘cleansed’ self appears to allow for experiences of interconnection, both enabling an experience of coherence within an integrated (differentiated) Self as well as oneness (integration) with Others. While Csikszentmihalyi (1997: 41) identifies this as the manifestation of a more ‘complex’ self, pasajeros experience it as far more effortless and liberating—as experientially simpler. Revealing a similar paradox, the experience of the ‘small-self’ that Bai (in Suttie, 2017) identifies as a bi-product of awe, tends instead to be experienced by pasajeros in terms of a Self that is exponentially ‘greater’. For some, the ‘extraordinary phenomena’ (Shiota, 2016) that elicits the awe is experientially incorporated within the sense of a now expanded Self. In cases when these connections are not experienced in terms of the Self, the

200 access to Other through the Self tends still to evoke the sense of a Self that has expanded significantly.

When the Self in its ‘authentic’ state becomes experience, pasajeros transcend metaphor to describe a place within that is significant in their quest for healing. Some perceive this state in terms of ‘coming home’—as ‘Heaven’ or ‘Paradise’—and pasajeros often reveal a sense that there is efficacy in these novel realms of Self they discover. Beyond being an ‘end in life’ as posited by Maslow (1964: 79), the data suggests that exposure of, or connection with, this place within can act to expose all that is not compatible with that state. When those elements are identified, they can, as separable part/s, be adapted or removed. For many pasajeros, the state they identify here is labelled ‘Love’, and the Self-as-Love, in many of their experiences, acts as a form of ‘medicine’ in itself.

Teilhard de Chardin (1975 [1934]: 86-7) states:

The day will come when, after harnessing [space], the winds, the tides, gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And, on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.

Love, for pasajeros, represents a potent potential. During and/or after a peak experience, pasajeros tend to recognise an inherent ‘truth’ in the existential state of Love. It is described in terms of lightness, purity and high frequency emotions, often experienced as bliss, joy, ecstasy, and for many who embody that state during ceremony, it is identified as ‘coming home’, as ‘Heaven’ or ‘Paradise’—as their essential essence. Recognised in this way, the Self-as-Love appears to represent a new (heightened) place of homoeostasis to which the multiple elements of the existential self—the body, the mind, the emotions—are able to return given optimal conditions.166 It represents personal power, both for healing the Self and for assisting others, and ultimately it represents a force in the presence of which emotions considered of ‘lower’ vibration cannot coexist. For some, this power was experienced as so pervasive and potent that they related it to God-within. They describe, as does anthropologist, Weston La Barre, the ‘supernatural’ both within and as the Self. La Barre (1990 [1972]) states:

166 Homoeostasis is defined by MedicineNet (2017b) as: ‘A property of cells, tissues, and organisms that allows the maintenance and regulation of the stability and constancy needed to function properly.’ While they further define it as ‘a healthy state that is maintained by the constant adjustment of biochemical and physiological pathways’, my use of the term here incorporates a broader definition that relates to holistic wellness that is regulated also by mental and emotional pathways. My suggestion is that by embodying a state of Love in a system that has been purged of elements that are dissonant with this state, the ‘quality’ of the of the state of balance that represents the default states maintained by the processes of homoeostasis, is experientially improved.

201 We have too long supposed that the Unknown mysterium tremendum et fascinosum of religion was outside us, when in fact that Unknown, although ego-alien or unconscious, was all the while within us: the alleged “supernatural” is the human “subconscious.”

The explanatory models of the pasajeros incorporate culturally informed modes of meaning- making. While I would suggest that they incorporate some fundamental similarities to those posited by the Shipibo—for example, the notion that the parts of the self that are acting to create dis-ease are partible and separable; that the ‘quality’ of those parts accrued through social interaction is central to whether they will create dis-ease or not, and thus be welcome or not; and that the ‘energy’ or ‘vibration’ of the applied medicine is foundational to its efficacy—there are also some significant differences in the ways they are experienced and articulated. In the next chapter, I will explore the predominant worldviews and cultural influences that the pasajeros utilised to make meaning of their experience with Shipibo ayahuasca plant medicine healing.

202 CHAPTER 7: MAKING MEANING OF BEING HEALED

In this chapter I will explore the various theoretical frameworks through which pasajeros understand the action, efficacy and outcomes of their relationship with ayahuasca, as they unfold throughout their ceremonies at the Temple. The multiple ontologies and epistemologies through which ayahuasca is experienced at a personal level can often appear incongruent, even to the point of seeming contradictory. In essence, however, by applying a ‘bricolage’ (Lévi- Strauss, 1966b: 16) of cultural interpretations through the filters of embodied experience, the multitude of syncretic forms that individuals apply reveal striking resonances across multiple discourses.167

In exploring the various discourses that are brought together by Westerners—including management, pasajeros and long-term visitors—at the Temple, notions of what it is to be a Self are revealed as complex, as individuals transition from dissonant states of dis-ease toward a state of ultimate resonance in which multiple aspects of the Self are integrated. In an analysis of the multiple forms of worldview that are intermingled, a globalised syncretisation of belief systems emerges as Western forms of Eastern mysticism and Eastern-mysticism-affected quantum physics combine with Western interpretations of Indigenous Shipibo worldviews and biomedical understandings. While the latter tends to refute all of the alternate ontologies, most pasajeros found the process of blending biomedical discourses with the other worldviews relatively straightforward, maintaining the propensity of the Western Self to tolerate individual nuances that are a trademark of holistic, albeit individualised, understandings of health. Ultimately, biochemical processes are accepted as the key that allows access to otherwise mysterious aspects of the Self.

In this chapter I will outline the predominant discourses that informed the processes of meaning-making by pasajeros. I will then present three case studies in which ‘peak experiences’ were obtained to explore some of the many ways notions of health and wellness are ultimately framed and understood.

167 Lévi-Strauss’ notion of ‘bricolage’ refers to the intellectual use of any available information, (re)combined in order to create novel meaning.

203 BIOMEDICAL/PSYCHOLOGICAL DISCOURSE

In this discourse, the individual patient is regarded as a discrete, independent, bounded locus of health, illness and experience. This discourse reflects current political frameworks that posit ayahuasca as a drug. Its action and efficacy is most often understood in terms of a few of its chemical constituents, particularly the DMT in the chacruna, and the harmines and harmalines in the ayahuasca vine. Framed within an ontology that is both materialist and reductionist, the focus tends to remain on the physical properties of the brew and on the activity of a limited number of the multiple chemicals present.

In a biomedical framework, modes of learning are predominantly rational and scientific. Mind is understood to be a function of, and thus located in, the brain. Visions that occur during ceremony are posited as a result of the effect of DMT on the brain, which creates distortions in reality. As a result, they are generally not recognised as particularly ‘true’ or representing any form of ‘Other’. Where the individual gains access to memories and insights, they are most likely to be understood as coming from increased access to subconscious parts of the brain, which becomes possible due to the action of the ‘drug’. In this discourse, memories and innate intelligence are posited as being stored in parts of the brain that are not accessible in ordinary states of consciousness (i.e. in the subconscious) and ayahuasca acts like a chemical key, opening the door to these areas. Variations in experience are understood in terms of individual brain function and chemistry, and in the psychological predisposition of the individual in interpreting their experiences. The shaman’s work in ceremony is regarded as symbolic, effectively activating the placebo effect in the patient.

Where healing occurs as a result of this experience, it is generally regarded as being due to the ability to access (often traumatic) memories and to somehow reconceptualise and/or integrate them. The pasajero may recognise that they have developed certain unbeneficial behaviours and patterns as a result of certain events in their lives, recognise that they are no longer relevant or needed in their present circumstances and act to change them in ways that they consider more conducive to their desired outcomes. Viewing them from a different (adult) perspective allows for increased objectivity. From this new perspective, the patient may, for example, find compassion and thus forgiveness for perpetrators of harm done to them, and/or reconceptualise events that occurred in ways that allow them to recognise behaviours and emotional patterns they may have adopted, providing insight and opportunity for them to re-evaluate these patterns and behaviours and adapt them accordingly. In this way, autonomy and self-responsibility are prioritised.

Purging is most often posited as a bodily response to the toxicity of the drug—sometimes understood as a result of excessive stress on the liver—or in response to the purgative properties 204 of the brew in line with one of its historically common uses, not as a visionary substance, but rather as an anti-parasitic and detoxifying agent. Purging, then, is for the purpose of ridding the body of physical pathogens. Physical, mental, emotional and spiritual dimensions of the individual’s experience are generally understood to be discrete.

Healing at the physical level is accomplished through the process of cleansing the body, therefore allowing it to operate at maximum efficiency to rid itself of pathogens. Further, for those who incorporate psychological frameworks, discourses steeped in Freudian psychotherapy are predominant through descriptions of subconscious patterns that are brought into the conscious mind where they can be integrated.

Although many people at the Temple spoke in terms of ayahuasca’s chemical action on the brain, this was rarely discussed in isolation. Rather, they would combine these understandings with one or more of the discourses that follow that incorporate notions of embodied memories and/or spirits. In the rare cases that a pasajero maintained this discourse as a sole ontology, they tended to leave the Temple before their planned departure date.

SHIPIBO DISCOURSE

In Shipibo understandings, illness in a patient often occurs as a result of social discord, especially where jealousy and envy are involved. The pasajero in this discourse is part of a social network. An ‘enemy’ may carry out a ritual on their own or can pay a brujo (witchdoctor) to send a virote (dart) into the patient or to work with elemental spirits in ways that act to create illness and sometimes death through the ‘energetic’ transference of intention.

Healers predominantly gain their knowledge in direct relationship with plant spirits in an environment of social isolation and abstinence from earthly pleasures in order to render them more spirit-like. Ayahuasca is a master plant (brew) that has a spirit. It acts as a bridge to the spirit world, facilitating connection between the shaman and the elemental spirits. The spirit is a teacher and a healer. By drinking ayahuasca, the spirit world becomes accessible to the shaman who can then ‘see’ the energy patterns of the patient and discern the location and the cause of malignant energies that have been placed there. The shaman works with their plant spirit allies who advise them how to manage the malignant energies. In many cases they will ‘go to war’ in order to send virote back to the brujo who originally sent it, sometimes engaging in combat with the brujo in the spirit realms which can reportedly lead to serious illness and death for the loser. They sing ikaros, which they have either learned from their maestr@ or from the plant (or elemental) spirits during their dietas. The ikaros are sung as a way to weave ‘medicine’ into the energy field of the patient and to extricate malevolent energies. They may also act to bring the pasajero’s spirit (Ship. kaya) back into their body if it has been dislodged due to past trauma. 205 Particularly difficult energies may be removed using a chupar (sucking) and the energetic form of the plant medicine that has been placed into the patient through the ikaros can be enhanced and/or sealed in using a soplar (blowing smoke or agua de florida—floral water). Prescriptions may also be given to the patient, including herbal remedies, floral baths, and/or dietary and social restrictions as advised by the plant spirits or discerned by the shaman.

If the shaman purges, it is recognised in terms of them taking malignant energies from the patient and, rather than taking it into their own system, vomiting it out. In this discourse, the energetic and physical are inextricable from each other. Health in the pasajero is seen visibly by the shaman in the form of ‘beautiful’, uniform patterns in the energy field of the patient and manifests as physical, mental, emotional, and importantly, social wellbeing in the pasajero’s life. In Matthew’s words:

True healing is not about ‘curing’ but bringing the whole body (all levels) back into alignment. Healing, for the Shipibo, is ultimately a return to harmony and happiness, what they call benéshama (in Thoricatha, 2016).

WESTERN-EASTERN PHILOSOPHY DISCOURSE

I have labelled this discourse ‘Western-Eastern Philosophy’ as Western interpretations of Eastern philosophies over the past 40 years or so have transformed them in ways that are appreciably removed from their origins. These interpretations of Eastern philosophy were the most pervasive amongst pasajeros. Just as Shipibo epistemologies and ontologies are undergoing metamorphosis, tending away from discourses of vendetta and war and more toward those of light, ‘positivity’ and love, so too have Eastern discourses often been reinterpreted to represent more palatable ‘truths’ and practices for Western mindsets and worldviews. The term ‘Eastern mysticism’ covers a broad range of beliefs and practices. Western interpretations, however, often conflate (and radically simplify) multiple notions and philosophies—particularly from various representations of Buddhism, Hinduism, and Taoism—and incorporate them into a variety of New Age understandings (outlined below) that act as an umbrella under which multiple, nuanced forms of personal interpretations are formulated. For the purpose of this analysis, I will focus on the predominant aspects, broadly described as Eastern medicine and philosophy, that were most often discussed at the Temple.

An important aspect of a variety of ethnomedicine techniques that are utilised in India, China and throughout South-East Asia is the conceptualisation of the body’s energy flow, variously known as qi, prana and kundalini. While a wide variety of techniques are used to manipulate the movement of energy through the body, energy as the vital life force must be kept in constant

206 and regular flow and its manifestations kept in balance for the maintenance of health and wellbeing. In Hindu ethnomedicine, there are seven chakras in the human body: wheels of energy that exist concurrent to the spine, from its base to the crown of the head. The chakras, says Goswami (1980: 143), are ‘supra-material power-form[s]’ that are ‘imprinted undetectably in the body’, forming part of the ‘subtle body’ that can be seen only with the ‘mental eye’ (Goswami, 1980: 22).168 Judith (2011: 8) states that the chakra system represents ‘a kind of Jacob’s ladder connecting the polarities of Heaven and Earth, mind and body, spirit and matter.’

Traditional Chinese Medicine similarly ‘considers the human at the center of the universe as an antenna between celestial and earthly elements’ (Patwardhan et al., 2005: 466). Central to diagnostic and prescription techniques are the multitude of ‘meridians’ and acupuncture points within a person’s system, which are closely monitored by practitioners to ascertain the movement of qi (pron. ‘chee,’) and treat dis-ease based on its consistency and strength. In Ayurvedic medicine, the three doshas: vata, pitta and kapha, which relate to ‘wind,’ ‘bile,’ and ‘phlegm’ and, like all of the universe, are constituted by the elements of earth, water, fire, air and ether, must be balanced in the body for optimal health (Patwardhan et al., 2005: 466; Ross, 2012: 113).169 In each of these traditions, imbalance in constitutional elements and/or blockages that interfere with the consistent flow of life force creates disease (Patwardhan et al., 2005).

Balance, and thus health, is obtained by engaging all of the senses in a holistic process of healing that, as with the other forms of Eastern ethnomedicine, treat all aspects of the Self as interconnected and inseparable. Food and herbs are central to prescriptions as they are recognised as being integral to the establishment of internal balance and harmony of all of the elements.170 Deep relaxation, meditation and movement such as that practiced in yoga and other martial arts are also incorporated. Energy medicine practices such as reiki, shiatsu, acupuncture (and many more), have been introduced to the West from India, China and South-East Asia. Consistent in each of these approaches is a belief in the body’s innate ability to heal itself given

168 In his Definitive Guide to the Chakras and Kundalini, Goswami (1980) notes that different systems recognise different numbers of chakras. I only heard pasajeros speak of a system of seven chakras, however. 169 Patwardhan et al. (2005: 465) note that ‘Ayurveda, the traditional Indian medicine (TIM) and traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) remain the most ancient yet living traditions.’ 170 Original manifestations of Hippocratic medicine incorporated understandings that the four humors of fire, earth, water, and air within a person must remain in balance for optimal health (Foster, 1978). Foster (1978) notes that some notions of humoral medicine, particularly understandings of ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ conditions, as well as ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ foods and herbs as cures, which are now most commonly ascribed to Ayurveda, are pervasive in Latin American folk medicine. Brabec de Mori (2009: 131) similarly speaks of the Shipibo notions of matsi jikiax (coldness entered) to explain certain physical symptoms. These ideals of internal balance and harmony are consistent with the medical notion of homoeostasis (MedicineNet.com, 2017b; Taber's Cyclopedic Medical Dictionary [16th ed.], 1989: 383).

207 the optimal environment (both internally and externally), the recognition of strong and balanced energy flow in the body as an indication of good health, and the inclusion of wellbeing as a holistic, integrated, embodied approach that acknowledges the importance of joy, abundance, and social harmony.171 When compared to Shipibo shamanism, similarities can be found. While practices and understandings of aetiologies are in many ways distinct, the state of the energetic system, the holistic experience of the patient, and the relationship between Self and others are integral to the diagnosis and therapeutic processes in each of these approaches.

Many varieties of Hindu and Buddhist philosophy reflect the tenets of Christianity insofar as carnal desires of the human body are posited as obstacles and even as enemies to the highest potential of the soul due to its propensity for impurity. As a result, practices such as chanting a sacred name or phrase (mantra), meditation, and selfless service to others (seva) are integral techniques for purifying the body while simultaneously ‘navigat(ing) [the soul’s] purificatory journey toward truth and perfection’ (Ross, 2012: 89). Ultimately, the aim is to liberate the soul from the recurring cycle of life, death and rebirth (samsara), reaching a state of immortality and bliss, which occurs when the individual can ‘gain superior insight into the nature of the world’ (Smart, 2006: 49) and thus transcend the illusion (maya) that the body exists separately from the Divine (Ross, 2012: 89). This ultimate knowledge is often proffered as the realisation that nothing inherently exists, discrete entities ultimately being neither separate nor independent, and that objects and phenomena derive their identity only in relation to other objects and phenomena. Understandings of the interconnection of all things emerge from this premise.

The notion of karma is central to these systems of belief and practice. The ‘law of karma’ pertains to the actions, thoughts and deeds a person has performed, both in this life and over countless previous incarnations or lifetimes. It is the cycle of cause and effect that binds living beings to samsara. Based on this law, it is not only the efforts of a person in this lifetime that determine the availability of liberation, but also the extent of the burden they carry which constitutes their soul, like a form of energetic imprint resulting from their past deeds throughout previous lifetimes. While energetic deficits remain in the soul of a living being, liberation from the suffering inherent in samsara is unavailable. Accordingly, while a person experiences the consequences of their past actions, ‘good deeds’ are performed in order to accumulate merit and to effectively ‘burn off’ bad karma.

171 This is also in line with the World Health Organization’s (2006: 1) definition of health: ‘Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity’

208 The ultimate aim posited in these philosophies is to reach a state of ‘pure consciousness’, or to obtain Enlightenment in Buddhist terms, which ‘represents the purest being of soul, when the soul is sleeplessly intent and when subject and object are indistinguishable in the purity of being’ (Noss, 2008: 100). This ‘purity of being’ is recognised by practitioners as ‘the Ultimate’ (Noss, 2008: 99), the Creator Force, ‘the essence of the universe, underlying and unifying the multitude of things and events we observe’ (Capra, 1975: 189). In Hinduism, it is often referred to as the ‘unspeakable Brahman’ (Smart, 2006: 49); in Taoism it is ‘the Way’ (the Tao), while in Buddhism it is ‘Suchness’ (Tathata; Capra, 1975: 189), the ‘void’ or ‘emptiness’ (Sunyata; Capra, 1975: 212). In each case, it lies beyond both creation and description. Smart (2006: 49) explains that the ‘higher side of the Divine … has a correspondence with the inner side of the soul, the eternal atman or Self which lies within every individual.’ Noss (2008: 99) says: ‘when the human soul knows its complete identity with Brahman it celebrates this knowledge with a feeling of unity approaching ecstasy.’

One of the techniques he identifies, used to attain the experience of unity, is vocalising ‘the most sacred of syllables,’ Om:

Its vocalization is not merely a “reference to” or a “pointing toward” the essence of the Ultimate, rather, it is a reification of that Essence in the throat of the one who pronounces it (Noss, 2008: 99).

Similarly, practitioners believe that chanting the names of deities and other sacred sounds changes the essence of the one who chants them.

With regard to what it is that constitutes a ‘being’, Hinduism and Buddhism recognise beings on multiple realms. In Buddhism, for example, these include god realms, hell realms, realms of hungry ghosts and animal realms. Plants, while recognised as sentient, are generally considered to be ‘one-facultied’ life forms (Harvey, 2000: 175) in that they have life but do not have the same levels of self-awareness or the kinds of nervous systems present in animals, possessing only the sense of touch. While approaches vary across the range of sub-disciplines of Buddhism and Hinduism on this point, I never heard pasajeros discussing reincarnation into plant forms, indicating that it has usually not been incorporated into ‘Western-Eastern’ understandings.

For pasajeros who incorporate versions of Eastern philosophy into their conceptualisation of the Self, dis-ease is sometimes regarded in terms of karmic accumulation, versions of fatalism (‘everything happens for a reason’ or ‘this has been sent to me by the Gods/spiritual beings/Creator Force so that I can grow’), and self-responsibility (‘I may not be able to control what happens in life, but I can control how I react to it’). Karma is personal, as are the actions one takes to accumulate merit. Just as psychotherapeutic discourses posit subconscious or cellular memories (see New Age Discourse, below), and the Shipibo recognise distortions in the 209 energetic fields of their patients, the notion of karma in this discourse places dis-ease in terms of imprints in the subtle, energetic body of the Self. The use of ayahuasca, then, is a method of purifying the Self with the help of the maestr@s who act to remove imbalance and restore strong and balanced energy flow throughout the system, as well as a way to experience the Divine through processes of expanded consciousness. Ultimate health in this context is synchronous to Enlightenment. There is often a correlation made here between emotion and health in that once a person embodies a state of Love (i.e. the state of the Divine) anything that is not Love (i.e. not Divine) cannot exist there.

‘NEW AGE’ QUANTUM PHYSICS DISCOURSE

The quantum physics (or quantum mechanics) discourse in its purely scientific form is descriptive rather than prescriptive in that the application of its philosophy is to describe and explain phenomena. While physicists and philosophers have historically considered a relationship between quantum physics and consciousness, it is uncommon for modern quantum physicists to extrapolate meaning from their theories regarding human consciousness, individual agency, or health. Interpretations that do deduce meaning regarding the power of human consciousness to affect matter and to manifest outcomes (including states of health and wellbeing), are therefore often referred to in some scientific arenas as unsubstantiated pseudoscience or ‘quantum mysticism’ (see Marin, 2009). In Temple discourses and for pasajeros, however, notions of the Self as the locus of specific energetic vibrations and the ability of consciousness to affect and manifest life outcomes are often incorporated. While many did not identify quantum physics as the origin of their understandings (instead speaking in terms of New Age discourses which were often heavily influenced by Eastern philosophy) there were some who referenced this paradigm specifically as proof of the agency of human consciousness and/or of a Creator Force which they were often satisfied to call God. Significantly, at no time was this referred to as ‘quantum mysticism’; it was, instead, discussed exclusively in terms of increasingly substantiated scientific fact.

The specific aspect of quantum physics that pasajeros refer to in this discourse relates to the ‘wave-particle duality’ of matter. This concept emerged from the famous ‘double split experiments’, which showed that photons (particles of matter) have both a wave and particle nature.172 When a series of photons were fired at a plate in which there were two slits, they

172 The specific details and multiple interpretations of wave-particle dualism are beyond the scope of this thesis. The description of the double slit experiment here is simplified to the degree that it can illustrate the basic meaning extrapolated in New Age discourses. For a more thorough description of the experiment, see for example Müller-Kirsten (2006) and for a comparison of the multiple interpretations of

210 would leave the laser independently as single particles. Rather than creating a pattern of two lines on a screen placed behind the plate—as they would over time if they had remained particles and gone through one slit or the other—they instead created an interference pattern of multiple lines, much like that produced if two pebbles are dropped into a pond, which indicated they were acting like waves, going through both slits simultaneously and interfering with themselves. Physicists concluded that at the quantum level, while each photon would leave the laser as a particle, it became a wave of potential. One confounding element in this experiment was that when physicists tried to ascertain what was happening by placing a measuring device next to the plate to detect the action of the photon at the point that it passed through the slits, each reverted to acting like a particle, producing a pattern of two straight lines on the screen. The conclusion, therefore, was that a photon could act as both/either a wave and/or a particle depending on whether or not it was being observed, with the act of observation effectively ‘collapsing’ the potential of the wave function into a definitive state of certainty in that moment.

While a possible connection between quantum physics and consciousness was first indicated by Nobel Prize winner in Physics, Neils Bohr, in the 1920s, by the late 1950s, a series of lectures given by Erwin Schrödinger marked the end of an era in which the majority of physicists considered any relationship between the two plausible (Marin, 2009). While most physicists have since taken a strictly realist and materialist approach to quantum physics since that time, there have been a plentitude of publications that hold quantum physics as a material confirmation of Eastern mysticism and even as proof of a creator force or God that constitutes part of individual consciousness. This integration of philosophies forms the basis what is now referred to as a ‘New Age’ interpretation of quantum physics (Leane, 2007: 31).

Leane (2007: 32) claims that Capra’s bestselling book, The Tao of Physics, launched the public’s interest in quantum physics.173 In it, Capra (1975: 12) states that ‘power plants’ (psychedelics) helped him in a significant way as he attempted to reconcile concepts from quantum physics with the philosophies of Eastern mysticism. In his exploration of the similarities between the two, he suggests that: ‘Although the spiritual traditions described in [this book] differ in many details, their view of the world is essentially the same.’

quantum physics, see Lewis (n.d.). For a simple animation explaining the double slit experiment as influenced by New Age interpretations, see UK Institue of Liberty (2011). 173 Kaiser (2011) notes that two of books in particular: The Tao of Physics: An Exploration of the Parallels Between Modern Physics and Eastern Mysticism by physicist, Fritjof Capra (1975) and The Dancing Wu Li Masters: An Overview of the New Physics by spiritual teacher, Gary Zukav (1979), were a ‘powerful antidote’ to plummeting numbers in student enrolments for physics in the 1970s and 80s, encouraging a new generation of physicists to enthusiastically embrace the discipline.

211 Capra identifies several ‘parallels’ between quantum physics and the belief systems of Buddhism, Hinduism and Taoism. The first of these is what he refers to as ‘the unity of all things’ (1975: 130) which, he says, is both ‘the central characteristic of the mystic experience’ and ‘one of the most important revelations of modern physics’ (1975: 131). Basing his analysis on the Copenhagen model of quantum physics which posits a ‘division of the physical world into an observed system (‘object’) and an observing system’ (1975: 132), Capra states that the ‘essential interconnectedness of the universe’ is revealed in quantum physics, quoting Neils Bohr (in Capra, 1975: 137) who said: ‘Isolated material particles are abstractions, their properties being definable and observable only through their interaction with other systems.’ He points out that if any part of an experimental design is changed, then the properties of the ‘observed object’ will change, thus surmising:

At the atomic level, then, the solid material objects of classical physics dissolve into patterns of probabilities, and these patterns do not represent probabilities of things, but rather probabilities of interconnections.

The universe therefore, rather than being a conglomeration of objects, is rather represented as ‘a complicated web of relations between the various parts of a unified whole’, with each part affecting all other parts.174 Capra (1975: 140) says:

The crucial feature of atomic physics is that the human observer is not only necessary to observe the properties of an object, but is necessary even to define these properties.

Further, he points out that this notion, newly recognised in quantum physics of ‘participation instead of observation’, has long been recognised in Eastern mysticism, ‘where observer and observed, subject and object, are not only inseparable but also become indistinguishable’ (Capra, 1975: 141).175

Another parallel between the two philosophies that Capra (1975: 143) notes is the redundancy of the notion of opposites. Rather than the existence of dualities, he says, within a unitary whole all things exist as manifestations along a continuum of potential that incorporates extremes. Further, he notes that both approaches regard the notion of space and time as being subjective rather than objective: ‘nothing but names, forms of thought, words of common usage’ (1975: 167). He says:

174 There are echoes here of anthropological and psychological theories—discussed in Chapter 4—which posit that a Self cannot develop and/or exist independently of relationship to Other. 175 cf Abram (1996), discussed in Chapter 5.

212 Many of the Eastern teachers emphasize that thought must take place in time, but that vision can transcend it. ‘Vision’, says Govinda, ‘is bound up with a space of a higher dimension, and therefore timeless.’ The space-time of relativistic physics is a similar timeless space of a higher dimension (Capra, 1975: 186).

And so, he notes that by transcending time and space, the notion of cause and effect necessarily becomes redundant: ‘there is no ‘before’ and no ‘after’, and thus no causation’ at the level of the highest state of attainment (Capra, 1975: 186). These descriptions share striking similarities with pasajeros’ understandings of their peak experience outlined in Chapter 6.

That the universe is dynamic is a further parallel between the philosophies of quantum physics and Eastern mysticism identified by Capra (1975: 189). Both philosophies, he says, state that all things are in a constant state of movement, flow and change; the ultimate essence, being intrinsic to all things, is the very nature of the ‘myriad forms which come into being and disintegrate, transforming themselves into one another without end’ (Capra, 1975: 190). While quantum physics has not applied a moral meaning to this idea of cosmic dynamism, Capra notes that the Tao, or ‘the right way of life’ in Taoism, and karma, the natural laws of cause and effect in Hinduism and Buddhism, have been applied to human action with the inference of moral causation. At the human level, then, the laws of causation are in effect, whereas the attainment of enlightenment transcends these laws.

‘Emptiness and form’ is Capra’s next category. Eastern mysticism has long considered the ‘essence’ of all things to be the only ‘reality,’ with all forms and phenomena being ‘illusions’, meaning that they are transitory manifestations of ‘the Source’ (Capra, 1975: 211). The ‘emptiness’ in these philosophies, rather than relating to nothingness, refers instead to an ‘infinite creative potential’ (Capra, 1975: 212). So too, Capra claims, has quantum physics identified the inseparable unity, the sameness of material objects and the environment that exist on a continuum of potential:

Since photons are also electromagnetic waves, and since these waves are vibrating fields, the photons must be manifestations of electromagnetic fields. Hence the concept of a ‘quantum field’, that is, of a field which can take the form of quanta, or particles … The quantum field is seen as the fundamental physical entity; a continuous medium which is present everywhere in space. Particles are merely local condensations of the field …”

Ultimately, Capra (1975: 277) suggests that the findings emerging from quantum physics at the time were increasingly becoming more coherent with notions emergent from ancient Eastern mysticism, indicating that ‘the structures and phenomena we observe in nature are nothing but creations of our measuring and categorizing mind.’ Eastern philosophy, he says, has similarly concluded this:

213 The Eastern mystics tell us again and again that all things and events we perceive are creations of the mind, arising from a particular state of consciousness and dissolving again if this state is transcended (Capra, 1975: 277).

Thus, the quantum physics discourse, interpreted in this way, posits that if the observer is complicit in the manifestation of the matter they observe, then changing the state or ‘quality’ of an individual’s consciousness can thus change their world—a foundational belief of many pasajeros.

Other publications that have had a significant effect on the incorporation of these discourses into current New Age understandings—each referenced regularly during conversations at the Temple—include The Dancing Wu Li Masters: An Overview of the New Physics by spiritual teacher, Gary Zukav (1979), Quantum Healing and Ageless Body, Timeless Mind: The Quantum Alternative to Growing Old by Deepak Chopra (1989, 1993), The Quantum Self: Human Nature and Consciousness Defined by the New Physics by physicist, Danah Zohar (1990), and later, the documentary-style films, What the Bleep Do We Know? (Arntz et al., 2004) and The Secret (Heriot, 2007). A common thread emergent in the developing quantum theory discourse embraced within these publications is the extension of the ideas presented above to indicate that each individual, being constituted by the Creator Force, is consequently a manifestation of God and/or has the powers equivalent to God with regard to their ability to change their environment and the world.176

Lending support to these theories, stem cell biologist, Bruce Lipton, in his book, Biology of Belief (2007), as well as neuroscientist and pharmacologist, Candace Pert in Everything you Need to Know to Feel Go(o)d (2007), have also been popular advocates for the use of quantum physics to support their findings that the state of the mind and the emotions directly affect health, as well as for the existence of an immortal spirit or God within. While there has been extensive criticism that condemns these approaches as metaphors emergent from ‘slippages’ that have occurred through the application of analogies (cf Hobbs, 2005; Leane, 2007: 31-35, 85; Rusbult, 2003), the calibre and perceived expertise of the advocates for mystical interpretations lends much support to the validity of such findings for many Temple visitors.

Discourses influenced by quantum physics in this way have had a significant impact on many pasajeros’ understanding of the Self, which they often expressed as a locus of particular frequencies within an environment entirely consistent of multiple other manifestations of

176 This notion of God is not reflective of the monotheistic understanding at the basis of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam but rather represents the creative force or creative intelligence from which existence emerges (see descriptions of pantheism and panentheism in the following section).

214 energetic frequencies (i.e. everything in existence is fundamentally energy). In this conceptualisation, frequency is not usually discussed by pasajeros in terms of quantitative, measurable fact, but rather as a qualitative experience. The use of terminology such as ‘frequency’ and ‘vibration’ in this instance, then, could be postulated as metaphorical, with low frequency vibrations experienced in terms of feeling heavy, dense, dark, sluggish, angry, depressed, etc. and conflated with ill health, while a lived experiences of lightness, joy, cheer and wellbeing were expressed in terms of high frequency vibrations. Forms of synaesthesia, too, were often explained in terms of the human capacity to interpret frequencies, with expanded consciousness in ayahuasca ceremonies postulated by some pasajeros as enabling simultaneous experiences of sight, sound and sensation as different sense organs come in contact with particular energetic forms. This reflects claims made by neuroscientist, Pert (2007: 111), who speaks of her son’s pioneering ‘mathematical transformation’

between the frequencies of light of the various colors of the rainbow and those of the musical notes to which they correspond. In other words, he accurately turned color into sound by calculating the trillion-fold lower harmonics.

Pert (2007: 111) states:

This is important because color is traditionally associated with the Hindu system of chakras, which are vortexes of energy visualized along the spinal cord, considered to be important for healing. Yogis and Eastern masters have ascribed different colors to each chakra, red being the base point at the bottom of the spine, moving up through the rainbow to violet at the top of skull.

Suggesting that the locations of the chakras correlate with locations along the spine ‘where the molecules of emotion are most densely populated’, and therefore where the psychosomatic network of the body can be accessed, Pert (2007: 111) speculates that by playing certain frequencies corresponding to certain musical notes, access to information stored in the body at the corresponding levels may be possible.

It is this kind of integration of science, psychology and spirituality, presented in scientific language of frequency and postulated by scientists in reputable fields of research, that is often held as significant, meaningful and trustworthy for pasajeros.177 Further, while Shipibo

177 As an example of the calibre of specialists that present these findings, Pert discovered the Opiate Receptor, which led to the discovery of endorphins. Along with her colleagues, Pert et al. (1985: 820s) identified a significant role of the emotions in immunity and overall health, claiming that emotional states are communicated throughout the body via the actions of neuropeptides: the ‘biochemical substrate of emotions’. Referred to as ‘the mother of psychoneuroimmunology’ (see Pert, 2017), she was also the first to develop drugs for the treatment of HIV. Pert has won numerous prestigious scientific awards that tend to give her more ‘mystical’ ideas great credence for pasajeros that know of her work.

215 ontologies appear significantly different on the surface, the focus of the maestr@s on the energy bodies, the removal of energetic toxins from the system, and the integral use of sound (via ikaros) to heal, along with the vibrational changes in the body that pasajeros regularly report when drinking ayahuasca, are relatively easily incorporated into this kind of framework. The meanings extracted from experiences of Shipibo-ayahuasca healing, then, become syncretic cultural interpretations rather than irreconcilable ontologies.

NEW AGE, HOLISTIC, BODY-MIND DISCOURSES

Because the New Age understands itself in terms of a holistic and organic world view, the sciences are introduced as sources of the unity-aspect within the physical reality. William Frost (in Leane, 2007: 31)

So a world worldview is emerging. We can call it global pluralism for short. Ninian Smart (2006: 592)

By far the most commonly encountered discourse at the Temple, New Age/Holistic discourses encompass a range of belief systems that often incorporate parts of all of the those outlined above. In identifying the emergence of a ‘world worldview’ of religion, Smart (2006) could equally be referring to the constantly evolving range of New Age and holistic belief systems that are increasingly difficult to attribute to just a few cultures. It is therefore difficult to be definitive regarding this range of discourses, particularly allowing for the broad availability for individual interpretations that define it, however there are some consistencies that tended to permeate the vast majority of representations that I encountered at the Temple.

In his book, New Age Movement, Ron Rhodes (1995: 7) says that in general: ‘The common worldview [in this movement] is based on monism (all is one), pantheism (all is God), and mysticism (the experience of oneness with the Divine)’, which is consistent (to varying degrees) with the cosmologies of many pasajeros I encountered at the Temple.178 In contrast to the biomedical/psychological approach to (mental) health, this discourse aligns more with psychotherapy techniques that focus less on ‘talk therapy’ and more on embodiment, and is heavily influenced by Eastern philosophy, particularly as it has been aligned with New Age

178 Picton (1905) accredits the popularisation of these understandings to 17th century philosophical ponderings of Baruch Spinoza, who rejected Descartes’ notions of a dualism that posited a separate body and spirit, instead insisting they are the same. In these early stirrings of monism in Western philosophical thought, Spinoza was pioneering in speaking of the ‘ground and root of all being’ in terms of ‘God’ (Plumtre, 2011 [1879]: 7). The concept of pantheism, which developed from these notions, will be discussed shortly.

216 interpretations of quantum physics as outlined above. It is an incorporative framework, allowing the inclusion (and exclusion, if desired) of all of the world’s religious and spiritual tenets, as well as scientific and therapeutic discourses as individuals feel is appropriate. Indeed, the idea that all religions are ultimately saying the same thing is often central to this discourse, and as interpretations of quantum physics and neurobiology are increasingly being filtered through these lenses, so too is science being incorporated as just one more path to ultimately obtain the same answers regarding the universe and existence. As Rhodes (1995: 8) states: ‘New Agers believe that God revealed himself in Jesus, but that he also revealed himself in Buddha, Krishna, and a host of others.’ As mentioned in the previous section, Shipibo ontologies are being embraced by many pasajeros in this same spirit, with God revealing itself in the elements of Nature and finding a voice through the shamanic use of Ayahuasca.

New Age/holistic approaches generally posit that the mind and/or consciousness (often used interchangeably), rather than being solely a function of the brain, are (also) located throughout the body in which each cell is deemed to have its own intelligence and the capacity for memory. They also tend to incorporate holistic frameworks of health, thereby expanding the concept to incorporate broader notions of ‘wellbeing’. Another common theme incorporated in this discourse is the notion of self-responsibility to the degree that the karma and spiritual attainments (from Eastern philosophies) or the general state of the holistic Self—incorporating the relative cleanliness of the body from biomedical discourses, the integration of emotions from psychological and psychotherapeutic discourses, and the resonant frequency of the Self in line with understandings of quantum physics—influences relationships to all forms of Other. These ideals incorporate the relationship between: the Self and Other (human) Selves; the Self and the ecological environment (Others in Nature); and particular aspects of the Self in relation to each other. In the context of the latter, the physical body is often recognised as a separable (albeit interrelated) part, distinguishable from the emotional, mental and spiritual bodies. These bodies are generally posited as being concurrently existent with—and accessible through—the physical body, with each body existing at increasingly higher (or ‘subtle’) frequencies, with the emotional body existing at a higher frequency than the physical, followed by the mental body and then the spiritual body. These frequencies are often recognised as being concurrent with the chakras or energy centres identified in many forms of Hinduism. Due to their existence at higher frequencies, the non-physical bodies are understood as being available to experience while usually remaining ‘invisible’ in ordinary states of consciousness. As a result, they are also considered increasingly more difficult to access as the gap between their resonant frequency and that of the physical body increases. These energetic bodies are also often posited as extending beyond the physical body in the form of auras, which some people report seeing as colours, or feeling intuitively.

217 In these discourses, traumatic experiences can be held as energetic imprints in the body/ies at a cellular level (or, some posit, in the DNA) and are often referred to as ‘cellular memories’. As with the psychological approach, cellular memories are usually considered to be subconscious, however further to creating emotional/psychological illness, they are also recognised as a predominant contributing factor to the manifestation of physical maladies. If the traumas are not resolved, released or otherwise integrated, they are understood to create dis-ease over time as they gradually become more energetically ‘dense’ due to the restriction of flow, and thus ultimately manifest in the physical body. Incorporating a holistic approach, the bodies are recognised as inextricable from and interdependent on each other.

The chemical interactions of ayahuasca and the brain recognised in the biomedical approach are generally acknowledged and discussed in this discourse but are rarely the dominant focus. In fact, when the body-mind discourse is predominant, most ‘psychedelic’ visions that pasajeros experience (pixilations, patterns, designs; visions that do not appear to them to have meaning) are regularly considered a distracting side effect. The therapeutic value of the ayahuasca is instead understood to be in its ability to change consciousness; effectively ‘expanding’ the boundaries of conscious awareness, allowing access to energies and imprints that otherwise remain difficult to access. As with the biomedical discourse, these energies, memories, and the subsequent consequences of them can then be attended to.

In this discourse, purging can represent the expulsion of physical toxins from the body as with the biomedical discourse, but is more often recognised as a physical release of discordant energies from the body.179 This approach also aligns with the Shipibo discourse and recognises the inextricability of body and mind. Meaning attributed to this process is often presented in terms of ‘facing fears’ and/or ‘doing shadow work’ (see Chapter 6), leading to what is often regarded as ‘catharsis’ (defined by Aristotle as metaphorically purging and purifying ‘the human soul … of its excessive passions’ (Lucas, 1927: 24)).

Further to incorporating the notion of multiple bodies, for many proponents of this discourse, the idea of a God or higher consciousness (the Divine) that resides within everyone (and sometimes everything) is also often incorporated. This may be understood and expressed in terms of pantheism (meaning ‘all is God’): the notion that everything is a manifestation of the

179 This understanding is consistent with the many alternative forms of body-based psychotherapeutic techniques that have developed out of the work of Wilhelm Reich, who’s pioneering research linked the psyche and biological functioning (see Wilhelm Reich Infant Trust, 2011). Interestingly, reflecting the experiences of many pasajeros (see chapter 6 and later in this chapter), Reich stated: ‘The central requirement to cure psychic disturbances is the re-establishment of the natural capacity for love’ (Reich, 1973: 7).

218 Divine, i.e. that the Divine and all aspects of the universe are identical; or as panentheism (meaning ‘all is in God’), which espouses the belief that while everything is interpenetrated by the Divine, the Divine extends beyond creation. In pantheism, God determines everything, while in panentheism, there is a distinction between the Divine and non-Divine and individuals have the capacity for independent decision making. In line with Plato who believed that an individual soul is ‘self-moved’ (see Piscinus, n.d.), panentheistic understandings allow for multiple active agents existing within a supreme agent.180

In these representations, the Divine is recognised as integral to and thus accessible through the body, further incorporating the Divine aspect as inherently entwined with body and mind in the whole experience of being a Self. Ultimately, it is recognised as constituting the essential Self: the foundational essence from which the existential Self emerges. For pasajeros who embrace this discourse, because the Divine is the basis of everything, the experience of the Divine also tends to incorporate an experience of interconnectedness with all things; once the essential Self is recognised, the same essence is thus detectable in All.

The notion of an essential quality of all things and thus of interconnectedness is reflective of both Eastern philosophies and notions from quantum physics. In both cases, access to the Divine is believed to be obtainable through gaining ‘higher states of consciousness’ and these states are reached not only through practices inherent in meditation such as intention and mindfulness, but usually—often more importantly—through processes of cleansing and purification. While on a physical level, cleansing usually refers to a literal process of ridding the body of toxins, purification tends incorporate the process of refining or heightening the energetic frequencies of all of the bodies. Cleansed and purified bodies are experienced qualitatively, usually expressed in terms of light, joy, ‘expansion’ and Love.

In pantheistic approaches, the Divine, being in everything, is therefore also present in the ego, which was a belief that was not commonly expressed by pasajeros. Instead, many tended to posit the ego as an example of the non-Divine and thus as the main barrier to the ability of the existential self to experience the Divine within—a panentheistic understanding (although this term was rarely, if ever, used). For some, the ego needed to be obliterated, or at least heavily subdued, in order for an experience of the Divine to manifest. This particular manifestation of the discourse therefore tends to incorporate warlike metaphors. However, unlike biomedical approaches where pathogens are usually physical intruders, or Shipibo approaches where discordant elements are similarly introduced from external sources, some of the most potent

180 It should be noted, however, that these notions were usually conflated under the term ‘pantheism’ at the Temple.

219 energetic pathogens in these representations are recognised in terms of aspects of the Self: the ego that needs to be torn down, fears that must be confronted and beaten, resistant boundaries and barriers that have to be eradicated in order to facilitate growth.

For others, the ego is recognised as a necessary function of existential being which needs cleansing, just as the physical body does. Again, this process recognises the varying aspects of the Self in terms of energetic frequencies. It involves ‘cleaning’ the multiples bodies of lower vibrational thoughts and emotions such as anger, jealousy and fear, thus encouraging high vibrational thoughts and emotions. Pasajeros indicate that this outcome can be supported through the ingestion of food and medicine that remains in a state as close to what nature provides as possible (non-GM, organic, whole foods), bodily movements that encourage focus, discipline, and balanced energy flow (yoga, qigong, tai chi and other martial arts), practices of meditation and chanting, energetic body work (reiki, Alexander technique, rebirthing, reflexology, and many more), and listening to frequencies that coincide with the different chakras and energy bodies (utilising gongs, bells, crystal bowls, recorded frequencies, etc.).

Just as holding energies born of traumatic events in the body is recognised as a causal factor for dis-ease, a similar relationship between emotions, thoughts and health is reflected in these representations of optimal wellbeing. Health, in this discourse, is posited as a Self (incorporating all bodies) that is clean and thus existent in a state of flow; interconnection (harmonious relationship); and high or refined vibrational frequency. The health of the Self also tends to be conflated with relative proximity to spiritual transformation.

Rhodes (1995: 9-10) states that the New Age movement incorporates ideals of both personal and planetary transformation. ‘Personal transformation,’ he says, ‘hinges on one’s personal recognition of oneness with God, humanity, and the universe akin to Christian ideals of being “born again”’ (Rhodes, 1995: 9; emphasis in original). This achievement, he suggests, can be described as ‘“enlightenment,” “attunement,” “self-realization,” “God-realization,” and “self- actualization,”’ (Rhodes, 1995: 10). Reflecting understandings from Eastern philosophy, it is this state, recognised through the lived experience of interconnection, gratitude, authenticity, flow and love, that many pasajeros consider to be the ultimate state of wellness, as well as the ultimate protection from dis-ease. Rhodes (1995: 10) expands on this concept, saying, ‘planetary transformation is brought about as a “critical mass” of personally transformed individuals takes socio-political responsibility for the world of humankind’ (emphasis in original). Many pasajeros, similarly, reflected the understanding that the greatest power they have to make changes to the world is to change themselves. Rather than necessarily believing it is important to engage in social activism, however, it was not uncommon to hear the

220 understanding that once a ‘critical mass’ of individual transformation is attained, the world’s vibration (and everything and everyone in it) will be raised and thus transformed automatically.

CASE STUDIES: SYNCRETISING CULTURES IN THE NEW AGE OF NEO-SHAMANISM

In order to illustrate the many ways that pasajeros utilise these multiple cultural discourses to form syncretic and nuanced understandings of their experiences of healing, I will now present three case studies. They reveal just some of the breadth and variation that is emerging from the Temple in a culture of neo-shamanism that supports the New Age propensity for embracing multiplicity. I have chosen the following examples based on both their similarities and their differences.

Seth, ‘Big Matt’ and Liana were all 40 years old when I met them at the Temple, each was from the United States of America and each had a series of ‘peak experiences’ during their workshops. They came to the Temple from different ontological and epistemological backgrounds. Seth is a medical doctor and had no previous experience with psychedelics when he attended his first 12-day workshop at the Temple early in 2012. By the time of our interview in 2013, he had returned several times and had become a workshop facilitator at the Temple. Matt was a computer technician who arrived at the Temple for the 3-month Work Exchange programme with a strong history of psychedelic use and a desire to communicate with the plant spirits but who instead left with his beliefs regarding the relationship between himself and ayahuasca in purely chemical terms. He now works in a meditation retreat. Liana is a natural therapist and energy worker who attended only one 12-day workshop and revealed an almost seamless blending of the beliefs she had established through her background in alternative and energetic medicine and Eastern spiritual practices with Shipibo ontologies as she described her kundalini awakening and her subsequent learning regarding the nature of the Self.181

CASE STUDY 1: SETH

Seth is a practicing physician from the USA. Before his first visit to the Temple, early in 2012, he says he was a ‘scientific realist with interests in consciousness and neurochemistry’. However, after ‘an unexpected relationship [with Ayahuasca and the Temple] that evolved very, very quickly’, Seth reported:

181 Kundalini is a term used in many Eastern spiritual practices to describe the primal energy that lies latent and coiled at the base of the spine (see Goswami, 1980: 29). Most spiritual practices in these lineages are aimed at awakening this force for the purpose of reaching Enlightenment.

221 I realised I wasn’t an atheist, that I found meaning and connection and source and spirit, and the lessons came so quickly and so shockingly vividly that they were undeniable to me.

In our interview, Seth revealed that he had arrived at the Temple with a list of things that he was hoping to find answers to, including an emotional issue he had been dealing with for 10 to 15 years, but mainly concerning his questions about consciousness and life direction. He reported that within the first hour of his first ceremony, ‘I went straight at it and wiped it clean. I got an understanding of it that I could have never had without the medicine. I was amazed.’ His testimonial video describing his first workshop in these terms (Temple of the Way of Light, 2017m; see Chapter 6) quickly became one of the strongest drawcards for visitors to the Temple during the time I was there. Seth returned to the Temple several times over the 18-month period following his first workshop, ultimately taking a role as a workshop facilitator after which he integrated several trips to Peru each year into his schedule as a physician at home.

Being a medical practitioner in the USA and more recently undergoing dietas in Peru, Seth’s passion was both in broadening his own ability to be in service to people who were seeking healing, as well as working with Temple proprietor, Matthew, to develop a syncretic approach to healing that might inform Western medicine and become both more acceptable and increasingly available in the global environment:

there’s so much overlap for me [between Western and Shipibo medicine] and there’s so much beauty to both and there’s so much power in each and they are complementary in a way that is not easy to communicate if you’re not part of both ... That being said, it’s a difficult road to cross because we’re taking one language and trying to explain an experience that’s not correlative with that language.

In adopting an incorporative approach, Seth’s descriptions of the aetiologies of illness and wellbeing similarly reflected global influences that revealed epistemologies that reached beyond his training in medical school. Focusing on the causes of illness, he, like many of the pasajeros quoted in Chapter 5, identified ‘separation in Western society’ as a major contributing factor to dis-ease:

One of the things that I have very much understood about how we approach medicine in the West is that it’s really addressing problems after they’ve happened. There’s very little preventative medicine … and it’s difficult to have impact because of what’s entrenched in Western society. I don’t want to say there’s a darkness but there’s a certain perspective on life. There’s a sense of separation … and from this sense of separation I think, stems every malady through society, and that includes physical illness. I mean, we treat ourselves poorly because we eat poorly, because we’re 222 disconnected, because we drink, because we engage in relationships that are not serving; that we pollute the air, pollute our minds, pollute our bodies. It’s all of a piece.

Here, Seth describes the individual as being inextricably enmeshed with their environment, reflecting the discourses from Shipibo, Eastern, and New Age philosophies outlined above. He suggests that the quality of the air, the food and the people—the Others that come into intimate contact with a Self on a daily basis—combine with the internal environment of thoughts and emotions in a constant interplay that manifests through the experience of existence in any given moment. He insinuates that increasingly isolating the Self from the environment that constitutes it allows notions of environmental pollution to become impersonal and thus easier to ignore. A simultaneous separation from aspects of the Self subsequently occurs, however, similarly allowing for (often unrecognised) pollution of the personal system. ‘At the core of it all is a spiritual illness’ he said, indicating that isolation of the existential self from Spirit has created a pathological schism that potentiates dis-ease.

Seth referred to some therapeutic work he had been participating in through a system called ‘Re-evaluation Counseling’ (RC). He described their philosophy in this way:

The idea behind it is that we’re all born pure, perfect and loving and cooperative and intelligent and connected and over time we’re all hurt, piece by piece, by our families, by our peers, by society … so piece by piece we get hurt in these ways and these hurts get laid in. And there’s a natural process that will happen to discharge those hurts … [D]ischarge comes as crying, it comes as laughter, it comes as shaking, it comes as a cold sweat, it comes as nausea, it comes as bah, bah, bah. There’s all this stuff that physical discharge for emotional work can do … And this gets bigger than that. We get hurt as men, or women … we’re oppressed … so those things come into us and we think of them as who we are … [but] all those things are just distress.

Here Seth speaks of the birth state, not necessarily in terms of tabula rasa (Latin: ‘clean slate’) as was historically postulated by philosophers (see Chapter 4) but rather in state imbued with qualities that Seth identifies as ‘pure, perfect and loving and cooperative and intelligent and connected’, more akin to descriptions of the essential Self reflected in the ideal of the ‘Oneness’ from Eastern philosophy and New Age discourses. In the same way that Temple staff speak of ‘layers of the onion’, Seth notes that pollution of this purity is accumulated through the processes and consequences of socialisation in ways that leave residual imprints in and on the Self, analogous to scarring that ends up (in)forming identity. In RC:

this group of people in Seattle learned in the 50s that all we have to do is give someone delighted attention. If we can give them nonjudgmental delighted attention and allow 223 them to ‘discharge’, the process happens without any other requirement or input … the process is organic. All we have to do is get out of our own way.182

By ‘get[ting] out of our own way’, there is an element of surrender that is implied wherein the processes of the ego, and most notably those of the rational mind, which have been strongly influenced through socialisation, need to be momentarily bypassed. This allows the body as the locus of health and illness to activate its own innate intelligence in order to re-establish balance, cleanliness and thus wellbeing, i.e. return to its pure state. Seth said that this psychotherapeutic understanding is ‘shockingly resonant with the processes here, because it’s the same thing. I mean, everybody here is purging away old distress.’

While much of Seth’s description was expressed in terms of biomedicine and psychotherapeutic discourses, he also incorporated notions of spirituality reminiscent of Eastern philosophies. When he described his own place in the healing network of the ceremonial space he said:

So … understanding that it’s all coming from the Medicine, that whatever capacity that I’m serving in, I’m a small vessel from the Source of all of it. I mean, I can take no credit for the Source of all of it. I can only say that I’m one small manifestation that’s helping to channel some small part of it in some small way, I’m serving.

Firstly, he referred to the Source as being foundational in ‘all of it’, reflecting pan(en)theistic views that suggest he is just one manifestation of the potent source that all beings carry within themselves. This also reflects Viveiros de Castro’s (2004: 5-6) observation that ‘throughout Indigenous America’, cosmologies tend to incorporate notions of the ‘same generic type of soul’ in both humans and non-humans. Further, Seth suggested that both ‘the Source’ and Ayahuasca (‘it’s all coming from the Medicine’) have agency and are responsible for the efficacy of the processes that unfold during ceremony. There is a suggestion of a particular resonance that occurs here between the Ayahuasca (as another manifestation of the Source that Seth channels to facilitate healing) and the innate intelligence in the body, which instigates movement of the existential self of the patient toward a state more resonant with the essential state of purity that Seth suggests is inherent in all living beings as the birth state before defilement.

Seth describes his understanding of what happens when a person drinks ayahuasca through an analogy:

182 See: Re-evaluation Counseling (2016) for more information.

224 Each of us is this beautiful crystal vase, yeah? And when we’re born the water that fills the vase is pure light. The eyes that we see the world with, the emotional world, the physical world, our experience are on the outside of the vase. What happens is through life, kind of which goes with what I was explaining about RC theory is, piece by piece we’re hurt and dirt and grime and oil and gunk gets dumped inside this pure light inside this vessel. And we know something’s wrong but we can’t see it. We’re not joyful, we’re not zestful, we’re not connected, we’re not co-operative. We feel like it’s me versus everybody else. I’m alone, like it’s every man for himself … What the medicine does is it pours light, just pure water into the vase and it replaces that dirty muck and garbage that’s floating in this water up and up and up until it starts to spill over the brim of this vase. And as that dirt passes in front of our eyes, it’s confusing, because we see very clearly our fear, our anger, our distrust, our pain, our suffering, and we re-experience it. What I tell people is, as that passes in front of your eyes, rejoice. It’s the last time you’ll see it. But you have to see it as it goes past. So every time there’s struggle, every time there’s fear, every time there’s some monster-demon, know that it’s just ayahuasca holding up a mirror, it’s just cleaning it out. It’s passing before your eyes before it passes away forever. And then you end up clean. And so our job is to constantly pour that light in so that darkness comes out of us so that we can connect with what we truly are which is this perfect beautiful crystal vase without a flaw.

In a similar way that Eastern Philosophy posits that chanting Om is a practice that reifies the essence of the Ultimate in the throat of the singer that ‘burns off’ karma, Seth’s analogy of Ayahuasca pouring ‘light, just pure water’ into the ‘vase’ of the Self reflects a similar representation of the process of reification and cleansing of the essential essence of the self, the essence of the Ultimate facilitated by the essence of ayahuasca:

And at the core of it there’s this perfect, ‘light’ is the word that we use because that’s the way our mammalian brain interprets what we’re seeing, but it’s just perfection. And all ayahuasca does is that it wipes away the clouds in front of us to show us.

This description reveals a seamless combination for Seth of biomedical knowledge and personal experience that reaches beyond what biomedicine incorporates. It integrates Eastern philosophy, supporting movement from the atheistic stance that had previously accompanied his worldview, allowing for the integration of the essential (spiritual) Self.

CASE STUDY 2: BIG MATT

Matt had recently left his job as a Production Technician in the field of semi-conductors before attending a 3-month Work Exchange programme at the Temple. He was raised Roman Catholic 225 but stopped attending mass in his early 20s, saying he was ‘agnostic, leaning towards atheist’ until he tried LSD at the age of 33. At that time he had his first experience of ‘non-duality’ when he experienced an ‘ego death’ and ‘merged with the cosmos.’183 He ultimately recognised this as the event that firmly established his belief in God: ‘Well, it’s a little stronger than “believed”. I actually experienced it.’ Before that experience, Matt had suffered periods of depression which he attributed to his failed attempts to find fulfilment by means of following the American Dream: ‘buying a house, consuming my way to happiness.’ Over the next seven years he ‘got seriously into’ psilocybin mushrooms, LSD and ayahuasca. Six years prior to his current visit to the Temple, he ‘received a message’ that if he wanted to continue working with the medicine he should do so in its traditional setting. He had, as a result, visited the Temple for the first time in 2007. At the time of our interview, the day before the completion of his Work Exchange programme ended his second visit to the Temple in 2012, Matt advised that while he had come to Peru to ‘communicate with the vine [ayahuasca]’, he left having ‘quite clearly fallen into the chemist camp’ with regard to his understanding of how ayahuasca works with humans.184 His focus was not so much on health as it was on spiritual exploration, and so regarding his own experiences during his ceremonies his terminology strayed from biomedical discourses to instead closely reflect those from Eastern philosophy—especially Buddhism—and New Age spirituality.

During the first of his three 12-day workshops during which he reported that he was ‘still operating under the idea that the plant had sent him’ to the jungle, Matt experienced only sickness. He felt that he had arrived at the Temple relatively well cleansed from his extensive use of psychedelics and entheogens and so was surprised to feel that he was being ‘poisoned by the medicine’. He believed it was the quality of the ayahuasca he was given, but decided as a result to ignore the dietary restrictions from that point on. He found the second and third workshops to be ‘fantastic’.

At the start of his second workshop, Matt was still embracing Shipibo and Temple discourse, but admitted to being sceptical about the existence of plant spirits. They did ‘show up’, however:

183 While there are several forms of non-duality, they are often conflated with monism in modern forms of Western spiritualism. It generally relates to the concept emergent from philosophies of Hinduism and Buddhism that assert there is only one reality and that all things in existence are an expression of that reality. 184 Matt was one of only three people that I know of, among the many hundreds I met, who departed the Temple as more of a scientific realist than when he arrived. The other two left before completing their workshops.

226 and they just spent the night pretty much pointing at me, and I was like ‘what are you guys pointing at?’ … And I finally figured it out that they were pointing at me because they are me. So I made that connection.

After the ceremony in which he saw the plant spirits, Matt came to the conclusion that ‘there is no entity; no Other’ but rather that ‘everything is Me’. In ceremony a few nights later, he was giving thanks to God when he realised that he was still embracing an ontology of separation in thanking an Other, so he instead began to say ‘Thank you, Me’. At that point he reports ‘an enlightenment experience’:

I see a flash of gold light. I think I hear the word ‘congratulations’—I did hear it but I think it was just me saying it, but on some other level—and immediately after the flash of gold light goes away, my sense of Self has expanded to include all things; and the guy ‘Matthew’ that I used to know and think was me is now off in the corner and I can see him for what he is, which is basically an illusion.

While Matt described the predominantly physical experience he had in his first workshop in almost exclusively biomedical terms, after his second and third workshops, he instead drew on concepts and terminology from Eastern philosophy and New Age spirituality. In having the ‘enlightenment experience’ he reported a knowledge that reflects monistic aspects of pantheism as well as New Age interpretations of quantum physics that suggest object and subject are ultimately indistinguishable, that all things in existence arise fundamentally from the same source, and that the Source is thus God. Matt came up with a ‘theory of the nature of reality’ saying it is ‘a big game that God is playing with Itself’. Psychedelics, he said, ‘expose the falsehood’ of the indoctrination of society that insists individuals are separate souls.

Ultimately Matt deduced that the voice he heard telling him to go to the jungle came from his own knowing rather than a plant spirit, a concept closer to psychological discourses of the subconscious. His conclusions left him at odds with Temple philosophy, which he felt was disempowering. He suggested that the maestr@s and ikaros were there only ‘for show’ and that they were, in practice, unnecessary:

You’re the only one going to do the work and you’re the only one that’s ever going to heal you. Actually, I’m opposed to the whole maestro-shaman aspect of it because I think it creates this idea that someone else is going to do the work for you or someone else is going to heal you … I don’t think that’s helpful. I think if anything it prevents healing in a lot of ways. You get people that think they have a spirit in them or that they’re possessed, you know, it’s a lot of distraction … I guess it works if you believe it works. If you really believe deep down that this shaman is going to heal you, he’ll probably heal you, but it’s not really him. Again, it’s you doing it but it’s your belief in him that allows 227 it to happen to you. But I have a real problem with the way the Temple tells people that this stuff is real … you know, the plant spirit is going to tell the shaman what to do and you know, before you go into town we’re going to protect you, keep you from being attacked by spirits. To me it’s just a huge disservice … it’s Shipibo mythology that’s being told as fact and these people are being indoctrinated by it ‘cause they don’t know … To say that this is how it is … goes against the whole healing.

By the end of Matt’s time at the Temple, he had a firmly established belief that the efficacy of ayahuasca lay ‘with the chemicals’. He concluded: ‘It’s the brain experiencing DMT’. He rejected the notion of plant spirits while confirming fundamental aspects of Eastern mysticism. Psychedelics, in this discourse, are chemical keys that unlock this experiential process. Ultimately, however, the healing potential for Matt lies within.

CASE STUDY 3: LIANA

Liana is a nutritional therapist, yoga instructor, reiki master and energy healer who was studying Chinese and herbal medicine at the time of our meeting. She was also a doula: a woman who gives support and advice to other women through their experiences of pregnancy and birth. Part of the reason for her visit to the Temple with her husband toward the end of 2013 was to restore her fertility.

In my interviews with Liana, she reported that she experienced a kundalini awakening during one of her earlier ceremonies:

I started moving, doing kundalini moves that I knew. I was watching this as the observer, so I was like ‘oh, wow! That’s what’s happening!’ and I knew immediately that it was a kundalini awakening. I felt the twin aspects winding around my spine, through the gates, through the chakras, especially through the gateway that goes into the heart chakra. I’ve always felt my chakras by the way, like in regular life … especially my heart chakra … so I think that’s also why I was so open to this medicine because my heart chakra was just so already open. So I didn’t have a lot of energetic blocks …

While she did purge, Liana clearly saw that she was purging the energy she had taken on from others in her healing work, from this life and from many past lives that she was shown, rather than accumulated blockages resulting from her own life experiences. Even though Liana related experiences of all-encompassing bliss (see Chapter 6) she also reported retaining ‘complete lucidity’ as she explored her intimate connection with the immediate environment, as a clear ‘observer’ of what was happening to her.

228 Liana did not express her experience of connection as one in which ‘all was Me’ as Seth and Matt described, but rather in terms of an uninterrupted flow of experience and information that passed between herself and Other. During one ceremony, when she went outside to dance barefoot in the moonlight, ‘Mama Earth was giving me energy’, and she was communicating with the Moon who ‘would tell me when it was time to go back in’ so that she would not miss any ikaros from the maestr@s as they progressed around the room. She also reported that the immensity of the kundalini she was experiencing was discernable by perceptive others in the maloka. The facilitator who was present that night later told her that she looked like a ‘huge ball of energy’ which Liana concurred with when she said: ‘and that’s what I felt like’; and the man who was working ‘on the door’ as a support person told her that the kundalini she was emitting during that ceremony had healed his back.

Liana described how she experienced the medicine working as she witnessed it during her ceremonies:

What I saw is that we would take the medicine and it would raise our vibration and we would all be sitting there in our light bodies in the sacred space of energy being held in the maloka. So then we’re vibrating with this. Then what I saw was that deep in our chakras and inside of us were these parasites … each one is a little bit different … So everyone would have this bright white light-body that we’re sitting in … and these entities … would start getting irritated and agitated and start waking up, because they sense that … ‘shit, we’re going to get sentenced to death’. … They literally can’t survive [if we don’t allow them to feed off our energy] … I literally can feel this in ceremony … Our light bodies start vibrating at a higher frequency and it’s basic, pfft, well not basic, but quantum physics. They cannot continue to exist in something that is not their vibration. They’re such a lower vibration. So it works indirectly. The medicine is so profound and so beautiful, it covers everything. Whatever is inside that is not of that higher vibration that we are … and that’s who we are, we are Love … and so [ayahuasca] resonates us, it vibrates us at that frequency with the medicine and then what happens is the ikaros come along and they speed that up even more … It feels to me like Aya is midwifing us … by birthing these things out of ourselves.

Liana described herself as ‘strongly clairsentient and clairaudient’ and said that she felt and heard the plant spirits communicating with each other and supporting her: ‘Hold her head up for the shaman; show him her throat chakra.’ She explained how she came to differentiate between her experience of communicating with Ayahuasca and those that occurred when an entity was instead posing as Ayahuasca in order to trick her into allowing it to stay in her system:

229 What I heard at the time, which now I know was not Her was that ‘[this negative experience] is your reality, this is the reality here and we’re going to spend time here and you’d better get used to it’. Well She doesn’t normally talk to me that way. That was not Her. I mean She’s like incredibly supporting and loving and encouraging … sometimes [the talk] is strong but it’s always very loving and wise. So I learned that that’s part of what the entities do. They want you to identify with their reality because that’s the only way they can exist and they’re holding on for dear life and survival and the only way they can do that is to change your vibration to one that allows them to stay … They would lower the vibration to a reality that was [begins a stuttering motion] and everything became digital and altered in this really negative, uncomfortable way … I felt jerky [when I moved].

Liana said that when she experienced the kundalini awakening, the snakes that she saw everywhere were beautiful whereas when her vibration was lowered they had become poisonous vipers. Similarly, when she was ‘in purgatory’ the birds outside seemed to be laughing at her whereas when she was in a blissful state, they were celebrating and ‘laughingly encouraging’ her to release. During those blissful moments of the kundalini awakening, she said:

I was being yoga’d; I was being breathed … Oh, I am so grateful for my yoga practice because the breathing that I knew to do to ride this energy, I mean it was everything I could do to stay on top of it, to stay with it. It was so intense and incredibly blissful. I mean it was FULL – ON – full body orgasm for hours on end.

There was no mention by Liana of the chemical constituents of ayahuasca nor of the brain or of the subconscious. Rather she spoke in terms of the psyche, of her personal vibration and of her direct communication with the multiple forms of Other she encountered. She described her experience of carrying ‘demons’ that she had taken on from people across many lifetimes, revealing the essence of the Eastern philosophies of karma and reincarnation. Further, her strong reliance on yogic practices during what she labelled her kundalini awakening along with her descriptions of the chakras, and of absolute connection and flow indicate a strong affiliation and embodied embrace of these philosophies.

Speaking in terms of what she called ‘basic … well not basic, but quantum physics’, Liana also incorporated the notions of frequency and vibration as foundational explanations for her experiences. Both Ayahuasca, she said, and the ikaros act to move the (existential) self toward the state of the essential Self of Love. In this way she combined the notion of the Creator force with the experiential aspect of that force as frequencies that correspond to bliss, ecstasy and Love. Using quantitative terms from physics she speaks of higher and lower frequencies, yet here these terms were used to reference qualitatively different states of experience. Reflective of 230 Shipibo ontologies, Liana experienced internal battles between the actions of the Ayahuasca and those of recalcitrant and unwelcome energies, which affected her perceptions of her external environment in palpable ways as she felt her vibrational energy change (beautiful serpents as compared to poisonous vipers, for example). Her description of this, then, reflected interpretations emergent from quantum physics in which the qualitative state of the observer has a tangible effect on the observation being made.

For Liana, then, rather than ayahuasca being a physical substance of chemical compounds, it was a substance of vibration that acted to change the vibration of her own system. The vibrational change that occurred in the Self in relationship with ayahuasca opened energy channels so that the flow of kundalini became possible, and together with the insertion of high vibration from the ikaros, elevated the vibration of her energy so that everything that was not her essential essence could no longer survive within her. Ayahuasca, the plant spirits and the ikaros therefore, were simultaneously understood and experienced by Liana in ways that were compatible with the ontologies of the Shipibo while also being interpreted through the lens of quantum physics and experienced in terms of Eastern concepts. The overlaps in these systems of knowledge combined easily for Liana, giving her a seamless locus of expression and dialogue for her experiences.

MULTIPLICITIES AND SIMILARITIES

While the three case studies outlined here reflect strikingly different epistemologies and ontologies, particularly with regard to the conceptualisations of Self and Other, they share many similarities. While Liana arrived at the Temple with a long-established connection to a spiritual Other derived from her daily practices, both Seth and Matt revealed that it was the use of psychedelics (ayahuasca for Seth; LSD for Matt) that had shifted their ontological atheism to a belief in the existence of the Divine (Source and Spirit for Seth; God for Matt). All three had peak experiences, and all three attributed their access to these experiences as being a result of their relatively ‘clean’ systems. For Seth and Liana, they considered their overall lifestyle choices encompassing diet, movement, social, and therapeutic practices to be foundational to the ease and intensity of their (peak) experiences. Seth said:

If you don’t have a central practice, ceremony can be overwhelming. The more things in place, the more nutrients in the soil, the more beautiful the flower … I think I’ve worked so much to get clean and I’ve worked so hard for so long that when I came here, stuff was ready to pop and it just popped right off.

Liana, too, revealed that she believed it was her open heart chakra and her lack of blockages that allowed her to have a kundalini awakening. She also noted the importance of her yoga 231 practice as she was navigating the powerful energies that were streaming through her which allowed her to both sustain and contain the enormity of the energetic experience.

Matt did not speak of personal lifestyle practices but stated that he had arrived at the Temple with most of his issues resolved. Unlike Seth and Liana, he indicated that his life had previously been unbalanced, strongly work-and-money-focused, with long hours spent in an office environment that he found extremely stressful. He indicated that much of the work he had done on issues that had left him in ‘a very bad place’ the year before, had been carried out through his use of psilocybin mushrooms. He commented that ‘it was kind of a strange place to be at a healing centre but not really in need of a lot of healing’ during his time at the Temple, leaving Matt to instead focus almost exclusively on exploring consciousness. So while Matt did not practice the same lifestyle choices as Seth and Liana (and most other pasajeros who had this experience), he represented a small minority of people at the Temple who had a protracted peak experience regardless. This minority shared a similar background to the extent that they had engaged fairly extensively with psychedelics and/or entheogens prior to their workshops. Matt commented that he had ‘pretty much cleaned’ himself out through the use of psychedelics, most notably psilocybin mushrooms:

I feel like that once you’ve reached these states, even if you’ve reached them for only one second in the middle of the psychedelic experience, you’ve still paved the road to that place, so in your regular life, in everyday consciousness, it’s a lot easier to get back there … It’s changed everything … it’s like an additional line of code in a software programme that underwrites every thought, because there’s basically not a thought that I have that hasn’t changed with this knowledge that we are all literally One.

His description reflects understandings emergent from psychological discourses regarding the creation of new neural pathways in the brain that lead to new behaviours and beliefs. For Matt it was ‘paving that road a little stronger’ that remained his only enticement to continuing with psychedelics—preferably, he said, with psilocybin mushrooms—when he returned home. His desire was to establish an indelible connection between his existential self and his essential Self, allowing him to live in the state of non-duality on an ongoing basis.

In all three of the case studies I have presented here, each person embraced a discourse that reveals significant overlaps with other discourses as they made meaning of their experiences with ayahuasca. While Matt’s interpretations of ayahuasca as a plant spirit medicine shifted from this Shipibo perspective into a firmly biomedical and psychological framework, the changes that happened for him were based firmly in his spiritual experiences. Biomedicine and more conservative forms of psychology, however, do not tend to incorporate language to encapsulate such an experience. In developing a personal relationship with God in a pantheistic 232 sense and engaging with an understanding of the non-dual nature of himself and all of existence, Matt incorporated concepts he was familiar with from Eastern philosophy, referring to ‘an Enlightenment experience’ and the Buddhist concepts of all but the Oneness being an illusion.

Seth and Liana similarly defaulted to the language and epistemologies they were familiar with. Seth did not name his peak experience in any other way than by his description of ‘perfection’ and ‘light … because that’s the way our mammalian brain interprets it’, easily defaulting to his biomedical training and, like Matt, also incorporating notions from Eastern mysticism. Where the activity of Ayahuasca could be described in biomedical terms for Seth and Matt, terminology that describes the quality of the embodied experience was not available. Liana, however, who had worked for many years in a New Age environment practicing extensively with Eastern and alternative health models, the language of Eastern spirituality was readily available. Both she and Seth also seamlessly incorporated the notion of discrete plant spirits while Matt was not motivated to do so through his experiences. The differences in ontologies here emerge, it seems, from the difference in experiencing the Self in relationship to the Divine in monistic-pantheistic terms (All is One; all is God manifest) as compared to panentheistic terms (All is manifest from One; All is manifest in God).

While these approaches provide a point of difference, the similarities are prevalent. For each of the three, there is an understanding that the Self is essentially ‘pure’ in the ultimate sense of being the purity of Source or the Divine. In each case, the existential self is regarded as a locus of experience, energy and interpretation of Other, and each recognises the disposition of the self to retain energies and energetic imprints from experiences of relationship to Other. These energies and imprints for each, can be expelled and thus cleansed in multiple ways through the physicality of the self which implies an understanding that the discrete selves posited by Western biomedicine (physical, emotional, mental and spiritual) are existentially intertwined. Further, while Seth, Matt, and Liana each described the process in different terms, their consistent references to the expulsion from the body of negative energies and imprints suggests both an innate state of the Self that exists in contrast to negativity, as well as an innate intelligence in the Self to sense and act to expel that which does not resonate with that state.

While the medical profession refers to ‘homeostasis’ in the body as a ‘state of equilibrium of the internal environment of the body that is maintained by dynamic processes of feedback and regulation’ (Taber's Cyclopedic Medical Dictionary [16th ed.], 1989: 838), these experiences indicate the presence of an optimal state that when activated or accessed acts in ways akin to a magnetic force, drawing the existential self more closely toward it. Ayahuasca, in these descriptions, acts as a chemical key (Matt) or a vibrational key (Seth and Liana) that initiates

233 this movement of the existential self toward the highest potential of the essential Self state. For Seth, ayahuasca ‘pours light’ into the self while Liana stated that ayahuasca ‘resonates us’.

Enlightenment or peak experience, then, can be expressed in terms of the existential self metaphorically ‘catching up’ to or meeting the state of the essential Self where the boundaries between the lived state and the optimal state existentially dissolve, as do the boundaries between Self and Other. This state is often equated to one of divine Love.

CONCLUSION

In exploring the understandings that pasajeros apply to their experience of moving toward a resonant state of optimal health—to the optimal state of Being-in-connection—multiple discourses can be identified as they intertwine in unique practices of bricolage, ultimately informing the very identity of the Self as it relates to Other. While these discourses may vary in a number of significant ways, pasajeros tend to embrace them without any sense of contradiction, creating a personalised, often unique and internally unified ontology. As the examples reveal throughout this thesis, this practice is at once intimate, eclectic and individualised, a practice of syncretisation that tends to coalesce a lifetime of knowledge and experience. While space dictates that only a limited number of case studies could be explored in this analysis, a reflection on the various interview quotes presented in previous chapters reveals that this practice of syncretisation is prevalent for the vast majority of pasajeros. Each assembles and articulates various discourses in personalised ways that act to incorporate their existent ontologies with the unique epistemological journey they undertake through the course of their ayahuasca ceremonies. While revealing the syncretic nature of individual pasajeros, this practice also reveals much about the environment provided at the Temple. Rather than creating and enforcing a master discourse which informs pasajeros uniformly, the Temple environment rather participates in and influences a dialogue between individual Selves and both the globalised and interdimensional forms of Other that they interact with, ultimately informing a more globalised, more universal, more ecological Self that is experientially recognised as being greater than the sum of its parts.

234 CHAPTER 8: CONCLUSION

In the introduction to this thesis, I highlighted the suggestion from permaculturalist Doug Bullock that while some form of activism often motivates Westerners who seek ayahuasca for its psychedelic properties today—just as it did for those involved in the counterculture of the 1960s and 70s—the ‘activism’ is now far more likely to occur within the realms of the Self, rather than directly in the political and cultural environment in the outside world. The transformation that many pasajeros seek is a holistic one that they indicate begins with the transformation of the (holistic) Self. It involves a countering of the culture of the self, the first step of which is to come into relationship with the Self in its entirety. Many pasajeros reveal this as their greatest challenge. They understand Western culture as one that encourages separation and independence, and note that this inclination is mirrored within. Parts of the holistic Self, in turn, remain alien. The process of deriving personalised meaning regarding the current state of the Self—and how it came to be in that state—as well as the actions and reconceptualisations necessary to affect change are central to the transformation that they seek. While ayahuasca may provide a means for this exploration, and maestr@s remain willing to take the responsibility for healing, self-responsibility—a central tenet of Western culture— remains key for pasajeros in their quest for optimal health and wellness as they take an active role in the ayahuasca plant medicine complex.

Health belief systems are created within a social milieu, and in an increasingly globalised environment, the meanings elucidated from experiences within ayahuasca ceremonies tend to emerge for the Western individual as a pastiche of multiple cultures. As knowledge of the Self transforms, belief systems, too, undergo (often radical) transformation. What is known of the Self, in turn, is reconstructed. Through the lens of the ‘rite of passage’ I have explored the central acts of meaning-making undertaken by pasajeros from wealthy, western-style nations throughout the world who visit the Temple of the Way of Light in Peru, as they navigate through the liminal phases beyond their experiential and conceptual boundaries of the self, acquire novel perceptions and experiences, and act to integrate their new understandings for the purpose of somehow feeling—and living—‘better’. This navigation necessarily incorporates cultural ontologies and epistemologies that may be as foreign to many of them as the terrains they visit, both internally and externally, in their quest for healing with ayahuasca. This thesis has focused on the diverse and novel ways multiple cultural discourses are combined and rendered novel by Western individuals to support a personalised passage from a state of dis-ease toward wellness within these foreign environments. While the distinctive cultures of the selves 235 represented here are varied and diverse, the conceptualisations of optimal health, wellness, and the ‘Self in essence’ that have emerged share remarkable similarities.

The Temple, nestled in the Amazon rainforest near the geographically isolated city of Iquitos, is far from sheltered from globalised health discourses. Like the selves that move through it, it exists as a site of ever-evolving syncretism, combining the ‘traditional’ knowledge of the Indigenous Shipibo Onanya with ontologies and epistemologies from Western science and medicine, and Eastern mysticism, filtered through Western psyches to emerge as multitudinous worldviews that are commonly categorised as ‘New Age’. One recognised feature of New Age cosmologies is the acceptance of nuanced differences that allow for diverse and personalised notions of health and wellness. By incorporating diversity in their aim to develop a globalised system of health, the liberal philosophical environment provided at the Temple allows seemingly contradictory understandings to be combined in ways that encourage intimate, personalised, self-determined, and thus potent meaning for targeted, individualised efficacy. Particular notions of the Self in the (Western) world emerge as foundational to these understandings.

One of the salient findings of this research is the presentation of the Western Self expressed in a particular form of dichotomisation. This dichotomy, for some, can relate to the schism between the body and mind as emergent from the pervasive effects of Cartesian dualism throughout the political, medical, industrial, and social systems of the Western world. When the lived body is experienced in ceremony as the vessel for and/or manifestation of the incarnated soul, however, the more fundamental rupture between the existential, lived aspect of the embodied self (incorporating the body and mind) and the essential Self (the fundamental, pure essence that many feel is constitutionally foundational) was experienced as the paramount predicament of living in an embodied form. This focus on the Self in terms of its ‘parts’, and the determined intention of pasajeros to explore what they conceive of as multiple realms of the Self, is a novel approach to ayahuasca plant medicine healing in the context of neo-shamanism, requiring alternative ontologies and notions of aetiology than have been traditionally utilised by the Shipibo and mestizo healers who are dispensing their medicine to a novel breed of patient. Localised cultures, too, are therefore undergoing rapid transformation.

While it is not common for Shipibo patients to drink ayahuasca as part of their healing session with an Onanya or maestr@, Western visitors are partaking in the brew, entering into altered states of consciousness, and subsequently into the realms where the maestr@’s work. Understandings of this process reveal one of the significant points of departure for many pasajeros from the ontologies of the Shipibo as cultural realms are similarly traversed, each affected by the other as Selves comingle within the realms of consciousness. The Shipibo

236 maestr@s recognise these realms as those of spirit world. Their work is carried out in conjunction with the plant, animal, and elemental spirits who coexist and work with them. This is accomplished primarily through the mediums of sound and intention, used to effectively ‘weave’ (energetic) medicine into the (energetic) system of the patient. Maestr@s will often ‘go to war’ with malevolent energies in the process of eradicating them. The tools they engage—the ikaros, the chupar, and soplar—utilise techniques that go largely undetected in the material realms observable in ordinary consciousness. As pasajeros enter altered states of consciousness, however, these healing mechanisms manifest in the realms of subjectivity as qualitative experiences within the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual realms of the Self. Mostly unfamiliar with the culturally recognised notions of the spirit world, as well as energetic pathogens and techniques of healing, Westerners commonly draw—to greater and lesser degrees—on alternative explanatory models to understand and integrate their experiences.

Within ceremony, the experiences of individual pasajeros can vary significantly, both from person to person, and for one person from ceremony to ceremony. Memories may be revisited, traumas observed and/or relived; clairvoyance, remote healing, and shared memories experienced. The sense of being diagnosed and treated by animals and plants, of transforming into animals and plants, of meeting and conversing with aliens and Gods, of visiting remote locations, being blasted into outer space, and of exploring the ‘matrix’ that constitutes existence, can elicit the full range of human emotions, including a significant amount of confusion, awe, and disorientation. To make sense of these experiences, pasajeros tend to rely on culturally familiar explanatory models, often attempting to reconcile their interpretations with Shipibo discourses in coherent and meaningful ways. They most commonly intersperse notions that incorporate more familiar concepts: chemical interactions between ayahuasca and the body and/or brain; psychological discourses that posit the subconscious as a receptacle of stored information and individual health as a self-determined project; interpretations of quantum physics that posit the state and applied focus of consciousness as the primary determinant of worldly manifestations; and understandings of the Self in terms of reincarnation, karma, chakras, the flow of qi or kundalini, and ultimately of Enlightenment born of Eastern mysticism.

While the nuanced results of personal interpretation are imperative for the provision of efficacy for the individual, the nuances themselves, when explored in terms of phenomenological experience, reveal more similarities than differences. One of these similarities emerges with regard to aetiology. For many pasajeros, Western culture is identified as a causal factor for much of what ails them.

237 Psychiatrist, R.D. Laing (1967: 12) states:

We are bemused and crazed creatures, strangers to our true selves, to one another, and to the spiritual and material world—mad, even, from an ideal standpoint we can glimpse but not adopt.

This state of ‘alienation’, he suggests, ‘is not simply a natural system’ but has rather been achieved by ‘outrageous violence perpetrated by human beings on human beings’ (Laing, 1967: 12). For many pasajeros, Western culture is identified as the pathogen that has acted to induce their state of existential dis-ease, encouraging alienation of the Self from both societal and environmental Others, and leaving them spiritually bereft. Just as Laing suggests, they conceptualise what he calls ‘an ideal standpoint’ that represents the Self in its optimal state of wellness. This place, they suggest, exists within but remains just out of reach, unable to be ‘adopted’ as lived experience due to the existential condition of embodiment. The body and the mind, conditioned by societal influence, are posited as loci of separation from this place.

While pasajeros do not always represent this in the same way, Temple discourse provides a metaphor for this scenario that many pasajeros identify with. The Self at its essence, they suggest, is pure, but in the process of existing in a discrete embodied form, it accumulates ‘imprints’ and ‘layers’, much like those of an onion, that act as barriers to the lived experience of its perfection. Ayahuasca is used by the Shipibo in its action as la purga (the purge) to encourage the elimination, not only of physical toxins, but also of the imprinted, emotional detritus that has lodged within the realms of the Self.

This kind of barrier they identify can be distinguished from ‘boundaries’ of the self, and while both can contribute to a sense of relative isolation, I suggest that they manifest and are managed differently within the context of an ayahuasca ceremony to affect the desired outcomes for a healed (holistic) Self. Taussig (1987: 406) states that: ‘Yagé [Ayahuasca] brings out and indeed depends upon intense living at extremity and exploration of the inchoate.’ These ‘extremities’ are what I have referred to as ‘boundaries’ of the self. The ‘barriers’ are then encountered within the newly discovered ‘inchoate’ realms of the self that are revealed beyond them.

I have utilised the term ‘boundaries’ in reference to the perceptual ‘edges’ of the individual’s experience of what constitutes ‘me’. Before experiences with ayahuasca, most Westerners tend to (albeit not always consciously) represent their own boundaries as relatively fixed or ‘solid’, existent within the confines of the skin. Perceptual boundaries of thought and emotion, although not physical, are still usually regarded as strictly personal and independent of Other, originating from and located within ‘my’ mind. In ordinary states of consciousness, the subconscious and any form of ‘higher’ consciousness are often posited as existing beyond perceptual boundaries. In altered states of consciousness, the boundaries of perception are changed. Whether a pasajero 238 recognises what they encounter there as manifestations of independent Others, of the deeper levels of personal consciousness, or as that part of the Self that exists in connection with all Other, the exploration of these realms invariably affects their understandings of the Self. For most pasajeros, this results in the notion of the Self as somehow ‘bigger’ or ‘more’ than previously imagined. This may relate to the novel ability to connect with subconscious realms of the Self, with the abilities of the Self to experience telepathy or clairvoyance in connection with Other, and/or it may constitute an embodied experience of the Self as substantially larger and interconnected than previously conceived of. Constituting extra-ordinary experiences, they are often conceptualised as sacred or divine. As Douglas (2008 [1966]: 141) suggests, when the boundaries of the self are expanded within the processes of ritual, they rarely return to their previous state afterward, but rather, in their changed state, act to alter ‘reality’. These changes to the boundaries of the self, I find, are not the only objects of separation that undergo adaptation. The other significant alterations of self involve the identification and removal of barriers.

Under the influence of ayahuasca, barriers are often recognised in terms of foreign entities that exist in a state contrary to purest essence of the Self. The barriers that I refer to relate to the internal ‘onion layers’ that pasajeros tend to confront once boundaries are traversed and the realms in which these imprints are held become available to perception. They represent the ‘dirt’ or the ‘matter out of place’ (Douglas, 2008 [1966]: 44) that manifest as existential disharmony. Only those defined as ‘negative energies’ are experienced in this way—as ‘foreign’ to the optimal state of the body and Self—and it is therefore only these accumulations that are posited as problematic. These imprints are identified by pasajeros primarily in terms of traumas, fears, and/or protections that are held within the intelligent body and act to inform personal behaviours, beliefs, attitudes, actions, and thus, relationships, both within and without. They are usually identified as parts of the self that encourage separation from Other. It is these (negative) parts within that ayahuasca, in relationship with the Self, targets for elimination. In this way, the Self is presented in terms that reflect the notions of ‘partibility’ and ‘dividuality’, with some elements that constitute it able to be separated out and expelled. As suggested by authors such as Strathern (1988, 2004) and Marriott (1976a, 1976b), these ‘parts’ are generally acquired as a result of social interactions, as ‘essences’ of things and (other) selves cross personal boundaries to energetically interact with the self through the lived experiences of exchange (cf. Mauss, 1966 [1954]).

Through the exploration of the work of the maestr@s and the descriptions of the pasajeros, the Self begins to emerge as a less ‘solid’ entity than Western conceptualisations generally allow for. Rather than meeting at their boundaries, interactions between the Self and Other are consistently described in terms that indicate a relative ‘permeability’ of the Self. The notion of ‘boundaries’ of the Self, as posited by Douglas (2008 [1966]) can therefore, I suggest, be 239 expanded. While Douglas represents the boundaries of the Self as relatively flexible, movable, even pliable in their ability to expand, contract, and adapt, the relationships encountered in ceremonies suggest a reconceptualisation of the nature of boundaries—and the Self—in terms of their relative permeability. Rather than meeting at relatively impermeable boundaries, this notion posits boundaries more in terms of a membrane that allows, not only interaction, but interspersion between the embodied Self and Other in ongoing (inter)relationship and (re)formation. The body, in these relationships, is central.

For pasajeros, the living body—and particularly the body-mind—tends to become increasingly significant in their experiences as workshops progress. It is not only the locus of the incarnated Self, but also the sensual tool of engagement that is central to the actions (and reactions) that unfold within the ayahuasca ceremony. In the cases where the rational, intellectual mind acts to interfere with these processes, discord and difficulty commonly ensue. The activity of ayahuasca, in a sense, effectively ‘demands’ that boundaries, barriers and the regions encountered beyond them are fully felt and experienced rather than immediately conceptualised for healing to eventuate. The activities of the intellectual mind to interfere with or to control these processes can, it seems, act as the most recalcitrant barriers of all. While conceptualisation by the intellectual mind is an important part of the integration of ceremonial experiences after the event, the intelligent body is the instrument that ‘holds’, filters, feels, and experiences events in the perpetually unfolding moment within ceremony. In this process, the experience of ‘knowledge’ often takes on new meaning.

The movement of information from the realms of intellectual thoughts and beliefs to that of ‘embodied knowledge’ is revealed by pasajeros as a pertinent process for the reintegration of discordant aspects of the Self. This points to notions of assimilation, as conceptual thought becomes fully integrated as embodied experience. Pasajeros indicate that the mind is not just a product of the brain, suggesting that organs, cells and DNA exhibit intelligence and agency in their ability to both ‘know’ and to influence states of wellbeing. The heart is often identified as the experiential locus of the purest essence of the Self. In a state of connection, information in previously disparate parts of the self can begin to inform each other. The body and mind enter a ‘partnership’ of sorts allowing for a state of internal flow. Further, pasajeros indicate that both knowledge and experience can act as pathogens and/or medicines depending on their ‘quality’, or, to express it in terms they might utilise, their ‘frequency’ or ‘vibration’. Connection between the rational and body-minds emerges as a salient aspect of the process of healing as they are brought into a state of relative ‘coherence’ (cf. McCraty, 2015). When Love infiltrates this exchange, pasajeros define it, not only in terms of extra-ordinary experience, but also as extra- ordinary intelligence, acting to guide life optimally. Some pasajeros experience a sense of ‘rebirth’ when (re)connection between the mind and body acts to inspire self-Love. 240 Connection between the body and mind does not necessarily translate directly to improved relationships between Self and Other, however. The quality of that coherent state, particularly that encouraged by the rational mind, appears to be an important factor here. While self-Love may ensue, if this results in thoughts and actions that act to encourage a furthering of ‘barriers’ or protections against external Others, ultimate wellness appears to be hindered. Alternatively, when the integration elicits acceptance, compassion, interaction, and Love of Other, outcomes tend to improve, not only—or even necessarily—for the Other(s) involved, but more noticeably for the Self as internal flow extends to more open interactions beyond.

In this representation, the experience of Self, mind, emotion, and body become far less easy to differentiate. The infused body is revealed as the primary locus of sensation, and the language that many pasajeros use to describe this phenomenological experience tends often to default to that of frequency and resonance. This has prompted my suggestion that notions of embodiment proffered by scholars such as Jackson (1983a, 1983b) and Csordas (1990, 1994, 1999) that incorporate its functions and existence through the experiential and conceptual, the perceptual and practical, can be further developed to include the constitutional: the qualitative, phenomenological experience of the energy and/or frequency of the s/Self and its parts, particularly as pertaining to its relative ‘purity’ in its embodied state.

‘Purification’, above all, has emerged as the foundational and possibly most important element of reaching the desired ‘ends’ within the ayahuasca experience as a whole. Even for those who seek to further explore consciousness rather than to specifically heal in any way, the notion that psychedelics act to ‘cleanse’ them in order to forge a path to the ultimate truth they perceive remains central. For those who reach the ultimate ‘ends’ that I have referred to in terms of ‘peak experiences’ in ceremonies, the relative purity of all states, realms, and aspects of the Self is consistently expressed as foundational to their understandings of ultimate health and wellbeing. The measure of this purity is ultimately judged against the experience of what I have named the ‘essential Self’.

When accumulated ‘negative’ imprints are removed from, or otherwise integrated into the embodied self—usually through the processes of acceptance, reconceptualisation, and Love—I have posited that a new form of relationship develops as previously disparate parts of the Self come into a state of resonance. Pasajeros indicate that the essential nature of the Self in its most healed state becomes experientially available. This essence manifests in terms of all that feels ‘good’: the experience of authenticity, flow, gratitude, awe, peace, joy, a sense of interconnection—with Self, with Other, and sometimes with all of creation—and ultimately, the embodied sense of (divine) Love.

241 In his definition of ‘true sanity’, Laing (1967: 119) states:

in one way or another, the dissolution of the normal ego, that false self competently adjusted to our alienated social reality: the emergence of the "inner" archetypal mediators of divine power, and through this death a rebirth, and the eventual re-establishment of a new kind of ego-functioning, the ego now being the servant of the divine, no longer its betrayer.

While pasajeros’ accounts of their experiences reflect such a process, their descriptions indicate that the ‘ego’—and further, the existential self as a whole—when brought into a state that more closely matches the perceived purity of the Divine, emerges not as its servant, but rather more like its friend, or possibly its (grown) beloved child. When experienced, the Divine is recognised for many pasajeros, not only as part of the Self, but as its fundamental constitution. This aspect of the Self is expressed in terms of the Creator Force, Oneness, the Higher Self, Universal Consciousness, and/or God and it is experienced as a state of joy, peace, and ultimately, Love. It is recognised as an aspect of the Self that is both unadulterated and relatively stable, and represents a Self-state that is experienced in terms of perfection. In comparison to this state, the existential aspects of the self become the focus of the healing event, experienced as more unstable and adaptable, existing in relative states of dissonance or resonance with the ultimate state of wellness.

While Mead and Buber present the ‘I’ and the I-Thou (respectively) as the creative, spontaneous, (inter)connected, boundless aspect of the Self that can only be known reflexively, the experiences related by pasajeros indicate that this innermost, foundational aspect of the (essential) Self can be known in present time, particularly when in altered (expanded) states of consciousness. Further, those who had protracted peak experiences suggest that if the body and mind can be maintained in a condition that emulates it, this aspect of the Self can remain experientially available when ordinary states of consciousness are resumed. This condition is one they identify in terms of its relative state of ‘purity’ that affects the most subtle levels of existence—the self as an experiential locus of energy. While the conceptualisations and descriptions of ‘I’ remain a reflexive exercise—Csordas (1994: 278) identifies this ‘ontological status of our dualities’ as a consequence of ‘embodiment as the condition of existence’—the lived experience of ‘Me’, these pasajeros indicate, can be so closely aligned with the state of ‘I’ as to become manifest in existential reality. The state of connection with this aspect of the Self manifests as the highest potential for living in a state of health and wellbeing. Although they describe this state utilising a diverse array of labels and conceptualisations, the phenomenological experience, I suggest, appears to be consistent from one person to another.

By embracing the concept of researcher-participant ‘resonance’ to move Beyond the Words and cultural differences in order ‘to help us appreciate their panhuman relevance’, Wikan (1992:

242 477) argues that lived experience often reveals more similarities than differences. She provides the example of

a Balinese priest and healer who upon lecturing my husband on the stark differences between the world religions—Hinduism, Buddhism, and Islam—concluded with a bright smile: "You see, completely different, exactly the same!"’ (Wikan, 1992: 461).

Like her, I have sensed the value of ‘going beyond words, of looking past outer trappings and semblances to that which counts more, similarities in human experience’ (Wikan, 1992: 461). While Temple discourses allow for diversity, ‘panhuman relevance’ still emerged through this focus.

At the Temple, a unique cultural blend has developed; a hybridisation of Eastern, Western and Shipibo cosmologies that is providing an environment where eclectic experiences of healing and of the Self are being experienced. Nestled within a local cultural milieu of Amazonian shamanism, which is suffused with jealously, envy, superstition and competition, the grounds of the Temple provide a symbolically bounded, protected space where—paradoxically—personal boundaries become vulnerable as they are exposed, permeated and traversed. Newly embodied understandings and insights are acting to change the personal landscape of the Western individual in a way that potentially reshapes the boundaries between Self and Other, reflecting the interpretative mechanisms particular to the (New Age) Western mindset.

In the same way that Buddhism and Hinduism, when understood in their entirety, incorporate the full potential of sentient beings for ‘good’ and ‘light’ as well as for ‘evil’ and ‘dark’, the Shipibo, too, recognise and accept the plant spirits, as well as fellow humans, in terms far more aligned with this incorporative understanding than many Westerners tend to recognise. The environment created at the Temple—determinedly focused on safety and comfort—acts to ‘shield’ participants from much of the reality of mestizo and Shipibo, worldviews, providing an environment that is built around and caters to Western sensibilities and thus inadvertently supporting the re-enforcement of preconceived expectations and culturally informed ideals. By minimally challenging romanticised representations of harmonious interconnection embraced by many Westerners, very real, lived experiences act to reinforce these expectations. They are, in many cases, creating life-changing and transformative insights. The Shipibo are still administering healing medicine, even as it is experienced through widely diverse lenses.

As I have outlined throughout the thesis, insights can appear varied and even contradictory, as notions of chemicals, neurobiology, psychotherapy, energy, frequency, past lives, and agentive elemental spirits are borrowed from disparate discourses and combined within the personalised environment of the (multiply-constituted) cultured self. Van Wolputte (2004: 263) states:

243 We all are Creoles of sorts: hybrid, divided, polyphonic, and parodic—a pastiche of our Selves. This contemporary body-self is fragmentary, often incoherent and inconsistent, precisely because it arises from contradictory and paradoxical experiences, social tensions, and conflicts that have one thing in common: They are real, that is, experienced.

Pasajeros express these creolic tendencies, drawing from globalised discourses to describe often-foreign experiences. The meanings and descriptions they generate are necessarily culturally informed. When one can reach—and where possible, experience—beyond the words, however, they are revealed as insufficient simulacra, with seemingly divergent conceptualisations often representing similar phenomenological experience. Phenomenological experiences—specifically, in this case, ‘peak experiences’ as explored in Chapter 7—are revealed as relatively consistent, representing ‘realities’ and ‘truths’ for pasajeros, that while expressed in multiple and divergent ways, elicit remarkably similar insights and responses. The relative purity of the existential self, the recognition of the self in parts, conceptualisation of the embodied self as a locus of energetic imprints, the notion that these imprints can be removed, understandings that the Creator Force is available within, pantheistic or panentheistic notions of the Self and the universe, descriptions of experiences that elicit these understandings in terms of resonance, frequency, light and divine Love, and the sense that changing the self can, by extension, change the world, all emerge consistently from their descriptions.

A further insight they reveal can, I believe, be utilised to inform discourses of health in a broader context, beyond the ayahuasca plant medicine complex. It pertains to lifestyle factors that pasajeros indicate support them in both attaining peak states and maintaining ongoing connection to these states—and thus optimal health—beyond and even outside of their experiences at the Temple. While pasajeros travel to the Temple seeking ayahuasca as a medicine, many return with empowering notion that the essence they embody within is equally powerful. Maintaining that state, they suggest, may be possible with the support of certain lifestyle factors. They incorporate methods that encourage and maintain cleanliness, purity, and ‘lightness’ throughout the holistic Self: a diet that is mainly organic and minimally processed, remaining as close to its natural state as possible; meditation and exercise that encourage ‘flow’ such as yoga and martial arts; and ongoing forms of psychotherapy and bodywork tend to all be included as lifestyle choices. Pasajeros indicate that focusing on and purifying just one aspect of the self—the mind through meditation, the body through diet, the emotions through therapy, for example—is insufficient, both for the attainment of a peak experience and for the maintenance of the coherent (often described as ‘heightened’) state that can result. To incorporate the terminology of Matthew at the Temple (see Chapter 4), any aspect of the Self that is not ‘at ease’ with any other aspect potentially creates the experience of ‘dis-ease’. While pasajeros advise that drinking ayahuasca provides opportunities, insights, and resolutions that

244 many years of utilising other modalities did not, they often attribute the extent of their successes, especially when peak experiences ensued, to their state as produced by the lifestyle choices and practices they had adopted. The combination of the purified self and ayahuasca, they suggest, is an optimal one to encourage the greatest potential of the medicine throughout their ceremonies. While this work has concentrated on the liminal phases of the ayahuasca workshop for Westerners in a foreign land, further research on the long-term efficacy of the ayahuasca medicine complex, ongoing lifestyle factors, and the potential for each to affect the other beyond workshops, would provide a valuable contribution to available scholarship.

This thesis outlines the many ways in which experiences with ayahuasca can be interpreted by Western participants and highlights that many varied forms of cultural interpretation can prove efficacious. It does not appear to be a requirement that a pasajero believes in the presence of plant spirits, or indeed any specific set or combination of beliefs, in order to experience significant levels of insight and healing. The health belief systems I have described here are clearly distinct from those of the Shipibo. While often incorporating Shipibo ontologies, Westerners have drawn on culturally informed discourses in ways that allow them to conceptualise meaning that renders their experiences personally efficacious. Pasajeros indicate that ‘truth’ and ‘reality’, while heavily influenced by the cultural and social environment, is personally determined and experienced. Cultural and subcultural knowledge is filtered through individual psyches in often-diverse (and sometimes seemingly contradictory) ways. The ‘how’ of making meaning, however, appears far less important than the ‘what’ that emerges from it. When pasajeros encounter, and live, what they identify as the true essence of the Self—and the realms and experiences that become available through that state—they report being indelibly transformed. Ayahuasca, they suggest is a powerful medicine, particularly in its ability to reveal the Self to the self. For many who encounter it, the embodied state of Love is identified as equally powerful medicine—for the Self and the world—that represents their Being, healed.

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286 APPENDIX 1: TYPICAL WORKSHOP SCHEDULE

287

288 289

290 APPENDIX 2: INTERVIEWEES

Country of Name Age Occupation Birth/Residence Ania Poland/USA 45 Yoga & Massage Therapist

Anne New Zealand 59 Doctor

Big Matt USA 40 Production Technician

Celosia USA 25 Permaculture Designer

Chadwick USA 30 Computer Technician

Cindy Canada 31 Not Provided

David USA 31 Business Owner

Haley Netherlands 41 Health Worker

Hans Germany 36 Physician

James Australia 21 Camp Attendant

Jeff USA 52 Artist

Joann Australia 56 Medical Administrator

Judith Canada 57 Retired

Julia USA 39 Entrepreneur

Juliana USA 31 Health and Tourism

Justin Australia 41 Editor

Kalpesh UK 29 Video Games Analyst

Karen USA 25 Not Provided

Katrina USA 55 Facilitator of the Heart

Kylie New Zealand 51 Social Worker

Liam Australia 21 Camp Attendant

291 Liana USA 40 Nutritional Therapist; Yoga Instructor; Reiki Master; Energy Healer; and Doula Marco UK 35 Permaculturist

Marcus USA 41 Not Provided

Mary B. Canada 58 Retired

Mary M. USA 47 Psychologist

Michaela Portugal 30 Dance Therapist

Michelle USA 43 Not Provided

Mish Australia 32 Hypnotherapist

Nakita USA 42 Business Executive

Nancy USA 55 Psychotherapist; Spiritual Teacher

Olimpia Poland 30 Graphic Designer

Ross UK/South Korea 37 English Teacher

Santhosh India/Austria 37 Nurse

Saph UK 39 Construction Driver

Seth USA 40 MD; Temple Workshop Facilitator

Sheila USA 48 Temple Goddess

Shirin Iran/Canada 31 Manager

Simon USA 60 Men’s Group Facilitator

Stephanie USA 27 Spiritual Psychologist

Stuart South Africa 54 Engineer; Shaman

Tom UK 19 Design Student

Tyler USA 23 Author

Virginia USA 56 Retired

Yulia Russia 26 Advertising

292 APPENDIX 3: MAESTR@S

Name Name Meaning of Age Experience (Spanish) (Shipibo) Shipibo Name (Yrs)

Rosa Penido Vasquez Pesin Rate Sound that wakes you up 72 26

Maria Barpra Obicio Ronin Hisway Electrifying Anaconda 53 29

Anita Fernandez Chono Beka What the Swallow Brings 52 18 Tananta

Celestina Vela Hidalgo Metsa Hisway Beautiful Electrifying 52 30

Sulmira Vela Hidalgo Sina Biri Courageous Ray 40 20

Traditional Lip Piercing Juana Gordon Valles Curin Kaisai 72 56 Walking On

Amelia Panduro Biuda Ronin Wano Joining of the Anaconda 63 33 Cenuiri

Jorge Lopez Pinedo Esco Mene Curious Messenger Bird 51 21

Diogenes Garcia Pene Metsa Beautiful Illumination 52 21 Sanchez

Arnaldo Mawa Metsa Sanken Beautiful Designs 73 56 Ochabano

Traditional Male Shipibo Eloy Ramos Nonta Wesha Beso 59 35 Haircut

Daniel Ramos Vargaz Bawa Mano Longing Parrot 33 19

293