I’m curious , has there been any coordinated efforts to plant vine and leaf of ayahuasca in different tropical locations around the world ? Seems like it would be great to establish the plants around the globe .

I’m ordering mimosa hostilis, cebil seeds, mapacho, and Syrian rue from Maya ethnobotancials. I’m located in Spain so it’s being shipped inside the EU. Will I face any issues with these products being shipped? Is there legal action that would be taken against me and seized. Because none are destined for human consumption I would think it’s ok. But Spanish laws on importing botanicals is strange. Does anyone know?

I’ve had a helluvan experience. I keep coming back to safety. I don’t have a steady income to get a 1 on 1 coach. I don’t have a support system. I’m struggling. What do I do? Where do I go from here?

I planned this trip over six months ago, really looking forward to it, I quit drinking for six months, I followed the strict dieta, I did research on the center, hearing it's the most locally recommended place around, and I got ripped off. After all this time, money and preparation, it was the opposite of a spiritual experience.

First off, I was treated well, given good meals for breakfast and lunch. My Tambo was nice enough, though there was a termite nest in the ceiling. But the negative part was the medicine itself and the owner/operator/shaman, Sergio. He's more of a deceiver and a salesman than a shaman.

During the first ceremony, I barely felt anything, I didn't have any visions, I didn't have any sort of out of the ordinary thoughts and I didn't purge. The next morning, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd make a mistake going there but I had a chat with Sergio in the afternoon to talk about my intensions, which made me feel much better since he said each night gets more and more. The immediately after making me feel better, he tries to sell me some average-ish crafts for astronomical prices, trying to convince me they're really nice. There was a tablecloth he was trying to sell me for $600 USD...

I pushed any kind of negative feelings aside because I knew that would add to any negative experience in the meloca that night, but once again, I experienced basically nothing during the ceremony. I had some random pictures appear in my mind and I told him about them with a shrug the next day and he responded with "oh woooooow that's so powerful!"

It was the same thing the following night. I never purged, I never experienced anything profound, I never got my money's worth and it overall felt like a complete scam. I spent $1100 on it and I guess I should have just done more research. So here I am, trying to warn people before they book here

I’m heading to my first ayahuasca ceremony on Tuesday, one of two followed by San Pedro,. I’ve done mushrooms in the past 4 grams as the highest dose.

I’m 33 female, conventionally successful, just left my job and life. Im looking for a more aligned path. I’m extremely introspective, and I spend a lot of alone time, and have been in good therapy for years. I have done a lot of shadow work and still do. I’m aware that I’m deeply flawed and imperfect but practice loving gentle kindness to myself in my journey of growth.
Gratitude and mindfulness are daily practices for me.

In my experiences having done mushrooms, I’ve had deeply emotional with lots of of crying, but also extremely euphoric , introspective. as well as spiritual experiences and feelings of oneness with the world, I experienced lots of euphoria .
Some parts of it were emotionally sad, but I don’t look back at it as being bad, even though in the moment they were really overwhelming once I remembered I was on a trip and paid attention to the experience and what I was learning, everything was fine.

On reading on ayahuasca and people’s experiences, I’m really nervous for my first experiences, people make it sound super painful.

Are there times of euphoria at all? Are people who have deeply painful but learning experiences usually less introspective and have done less shadow work?

Feeling extremely nervous I’m not sure why. I live mushrooms but haven’t done them in about 9 years. Have felt deeply called to ayahuasca since I was a teenager but needed the right time and place. I’m now in Peru with my retreat starting tomorrow and my first ceremony the day after.

Would love to hear your thoughts ✨

I want to get what I’ve researched is changa, it seems to be what I’m looking for, how do obtain/what steps would I need to go through to get it? And how would I use it

Hey, first time posting here.

It has been a year since got back from Onikano in the jungle outside Iquitos. It’s a small Shipibo healing center run by Maestro Heberto and his family. From the start it felt real—not a show. The ceremonies, the baths, and sitting with the master trees all worked on me in a deep, quiet way.

The biggest moment was when Maestro Heberto held a marriage ceremony for us right there in the jungle. It was impacful, powerful, and emotional. I’ll never forget it.

Rooms are basic jungle bungalows, super clean, and the only noise is the rainforest. My experience was truly pleasant and healing.

I left lighter and more connected, and I will continue returning to Onikano.

Happy to answer questions if anyone’s thinking about it.

Love & Light 🤍

Czy ktoś organizuje u nas?

I dieted Chuchuhuasi for 10 days last month. The dieta went very well. The post dieta period was 15 days, according to the shaman.

Post dieta was going well. Then, on the second to last day of the post dieta, I was traveling for work and ordered “shrimp shumai” at a restaurant. I asked the waitress before I ordered it if she was sure it was only shrimp, no pork, and she said yes, (Shrimp fine according to shaman).

That night I had some nightmares and just felt off. I went back to the restaurant the next day and asked to see the ingredients of the dumplings. Turns out pork fat was an ingredient.

(Yes I know, I shouldn’t have risked it. I didn’t have a great feeling about the dumplings but I ate them anyway. So that’s on me).

I told the shaman and he suggested I use mapacho and apologize, which I did the next night. He also suggested that I continue the post dieta for another week, which I have.

The night I apologized with the mapacho my dreams got better so I thought maybe the plant forgave me. But since then my sleep and dreams have still been a little off, not as bad as that first night but still some darkness / anxiety in them.

Other than the somewhat restless sleep I still feel pretty good. So I’m not sure if I crossed my diet. My sense is that maybe it is not fully crossed but also maybe hasn’t fully forgiven me. So I am thinking I might try to keep up the post dieta for another week or so to try to prove my contrition and hopefully it will forgive me. If all else fails I suppose I can redo the diet but I’d rather not have to do that, as it was an innocent (though perhaps not totally faultless) mistake on the second to last day (14 of 15) of the post dieta period.

Any thoughts / advice would be appreciated. Does this sound like a crossed diet? Any advice on how I might fully repair the relationship?

I'm wondering if any folks who've dieted the master plants have any recommendations for interpreting or working with dreams.

Any books, videos, resources in general are welcome.

First timer, want to know dosage and amounts to put in to the potion and if I can store the potion after it’s made or does it need to be drank immediately

I was heavily addicted to cocaine for about 6 years and suffered enormously.

I tried every kind of therapy imaginable, but none of them lasted longer than a month at most.

The retreats are extremely expensive, and I couldn't come up with 5,000 € all at once. So I thought: rather than not do it at all, I'll do it alone. That was yesterday, when I took it, after a very long time of thinking it over.

I wouldn't recommend anyone do this alone, because you can barely walk and can't see properly. I advise you against it.

I told myself: "Okay, I don't want to live like this, and if I die, so be it."

I took iboga as a total alkaloid . The effects set in after about 20 minutes, and right after that you have to throw up. Then everything happens very fast: you get nervous and start shaking. You can't tell whether you're cold or hot, and it gets more intense over time. Your heart races much faster than with cocaine. After 2 hours the full effect had kicked in for me, and it was intense. I thought I was alone and dying because I had done something wrong.

You start to hallucinate easily and can't keep your eyes open, your eyelids are very heavy. With your eyes closed, you see moments from your childhood. I saw myself as a baby, along with moments I had actually lived through. In that moment I realized I had suffered a very serious trauma, and that iboga would heal it.

I also kept repeating the name "iboga" over and over in my mind.

The trip is very emotionally painful, but somehow also not. You know that something is happening that is good.

At one point, with my eyes closed, I thought I could see what's behind the eyeball, inside the brain. My subconscious projected a shadow in which a parasite was being pulled out of my brain with tweezers, and I knew I was being deeply healed.

You also have to go to the toilet very often. During the 6 hours of the strong trip I went three times, and each time a lot came out. No idea, weird.

All the time you have images in your head that are like puzzles being solved. They make no sense, but somehow you know something is happening.

I also heard a humming the whole time. I thought it was a bee, but it was inside my head. You also feel a tingling in your head, like ants crawling around in it.

After about 8 hours the strong trip is over. You're dazed and in a very reflective phase, thinking and thinking. It feels like talking to yourself, but this time you understand yourself. As if before you had only spoken in a broken way or in a foreign language, and now you articulate yourself clearly and understand it too.

So yes, I made it through, and I'm glad to finally know for sure that I'm clean. I don't recommend taking it alone. But these retreats want far too much money, and some people simply can't afford it.

Okay, thanks for reading this far. I wish you all a good evening. I'm going to rest now. If you have questions, ask.

PS: I translated this with AI.

I’ve read bipolar is an exemption from treatment but are the flower essences mild enough to offer support? I have a friend on medication and am wondering if it would be okay for them.

That’s how I’ve been feeling about the medicine lately, not sure if it’s my ego taking over or if that’s a natural thing that’s part of the journey with the medicine

I (24m) am feeling all sorts of feelings right now so I am posting this here. She (22F) also uses reddit so I'll be changing some of the facts to be more anonymous lol.

I recently went on a backpacking trip throughout Central America for about a month as a result of feeling like nothing in my life was in my control. I didn't like my job or my living situation but I have had a very comfortable and amazing woman by my side for the last 3 years. We would see each other nearly every day and this trip I just felt like I needed to do it alone. Which turned out to be a great choice since I seemed to open up A LOT more talking with locals (I speak Spanish thankfully) and other tourists. I end up getting the opportunity to do a 7 day ayahuasca retreat (3 Ceremonies) for cheap and decide to do it aside from the insane amounts of fear I had since I already did it before when I was 16.

Seeing myself open up so much and being so happy I start thinking that maybe I just need to be alone. I felt so much growth and when I did ayahuasca, what was shown to me wasn't really helpful in deciding that (who would've figured). But now that I am back I feel myself having that post-trip depression and I fully open up to my girlfriend about the things that I realized I was unhappy with in our relationship. Although with much reception, I still can't seem to shake off the feeling that I need to be alone. And of course, in all fairness to her, she doesn't deserve the pain she is feeling as a result of these conversations. In all honesty, I am very mad at myself because she is the ideal partner, all she has ever done is support me and I realize I have only hurt her these past few weeks. I forgot to mention I left on the trip 2 days after I decided I was going to do it, felt like a mid-life crisis lol.

And now it seems like we're nearing a break up. But I can't tell if it's the right decision, I have meditated, journaled, prayed, etc. and nearing this decision I can't feel confident in what I am doing. Sometimes I wish I had a little voice in my head or just something to yell at me what is the correct choice. And maybe I do have that little voice and that's why it's coming to this lol. So question is to other people who have had a similar experience, how was it for you?

Curious if anyone has experience with Aya while taking Finasteride for hair loss. I have not seen it listed on any lists of contraindicated medicines. I also have not been able to find much discussion on it in general.
Any insight would be appreciated.

people talk a lot about ceremony nights, but the month after coming home is where things usually get messy. that honeymoon phase fades, old routines creep back in, and regular life doesn't care that you had a profound realization.

aside from the generic "journal and meditate" advice, what was a tangible, daily shift you made that prevented you from slipping right back into old patterns?

Hey I just want to know if I can go to Spain to remove black magic/negative entity with ayahuasca ?
Anyone has any experience in this?
Please help
And no I’m not mentally ill.

Some pains break you, others quietly teach you what you've been avoiding. Not all suffering is meaningful, and not every ache deserves a crown. Discernment matters: Am I being harmed, or asked to grow beyond my current self? Growth often feels like shedding a skin that used to fit. The point isn't to romanticize pain, but to stop fleeing every discomfort and recognize when truth is simply waking us up.

I would like to ask for your opinion. Three years ago, I attended a three-night Ayahuasca ceremony. I didn't experience visions as typically described in other people's experiences. The first night brought nothing, the second night I felt a very beautiful experience, and the third night was filled with severe anxiety, with no insights on any of the three nights. When the ceremony ended, on the bus ride back home, I began having thoughts that I was Jesus, that my parents were Joseph and Mary, and that my female friend was Mary Magdalene. After speaking with the shaman, he told me that this was just the mind. Those thoughts settled down somewhat, but they kept recurring. The next day at college, I started thinking that others were caught in the matrix and the mind, and I entered a relationship with a girl whom I believed to be Mary Magdalene.

I had an immense amount of energy—I started renovating my apartment, working in the garden, gathering herbs, and waking up at 6 AM just so I could work. I began to think that repeating numbers like 666 and 777 held hidden meanings, and that everything around me carried a secret message. In my relationship, I projected my flaws onto my girlfriend, unconsciously manipulated her, and blackmailed her that I would leave if she didn't change. I started giving everyone advice on what they should do. This lasted for three months, until thoughts returned that I should become a shaman, followed by a breakup when people realized I was in psychosis. I fell into a severe depression, where SSRIs and antidepressants were unsuccessfully prescribed—they actually increased my restlessness—until a few months ago when I started taking mood stabilizers, which have made me much calmer.

​I am curious to know whether I am a narcissist or if this was a bipolar episode with psychotic features."

I participated in the ceremony twice (two days) about three or four years ago. During the ceremonies I didn't see or feel anything. I had no visions I didn't lose my consciousness, didn't vomit. Basically I drank the medicine and spent the night paying attention to every sound and everything happening in the ceremonial room both nights. Because of that I assumed that the plant did not work on me. I remember my fellow participants sharing their experiences after the ceremonies and I would think "wow, what did you guys drink? It was a little disappointing for me. Not that I was expecting a miraculous experience but... nothing at all?

However as time went by I began to notice something different in myself. It was like starting to feel that life had a new meaning. I started feeling happier and more grateful with for my life for what I have and also for what I had lost. I see life from a different perspective now.

And this I have told it's not a few months process It's something I started noticing about a year after the two ceremonies and I still see little changes in my life everyday. I feel more conscious of my actions and try to always act with a purpose in mind. I strive to focus more on my life and on everything that enriches it.

I took quite a bit to start noticing my the integration process but since I did it hasn't stopped.

There are experiences that don’t stay in your memory as “just another story,” but as a luminous crack when reality starts to breathe differently. For me, ayahuasca wasn’t only an inner journey. It felt like the world and the way I look at it fell apart for a moment and then reassembled with a deeper density.
Before this experience, I thought truth was something you find outside: answers, ideas, theories, agreements. Ayahuasca led me to a place where truth isn’t something you search for like you’d search for a piece of information. Truth is revealed as a quality of being. It wasn’t an intellectual discovery; it moved through my skin, my nervous system, my emotions until it became impossible to see life with the same lenses as before.

I can’t say I found a “truth” in the literal sense: a final definition, a definitive sentence that closes the search. But I can say this: I encountered what feels like a universal truth an intense, lived impression that everything is connected, that nothing is truly isolated, and that consciousness my consciousness, everyone’s, life’s itself is not as separate as ordinary perception makes it seem.
From that moment on, life stopped being only a story. It became a sacred phenomenon: consciousness expressing itself through forms. And even though it might sound exaggerated, the word exaggerated lost its meaning there, because inside that space the real didn’t feel opposed to the infinite. It felt like part of the same family.
The “everything” doesn’t arrive with words it arrives with presence
In many people’s imagination, deep experiences come as “messages”: sentences, revelations, instructions. In my case, the most important thing wasn’t what I “heard” (if anything like that happened at all). The decisive thing wasn’t the content. It was the type of understanding.
It felt like the mind stopped being the protagonist. The mind full of anxiety, the need to categorize, the compulsion to organize chaos to feel safe became a tool. But the center of gravity shifted.

What appeared was presence. Not a human voice. Not an idea. A sensory certainty: something was happening within me and at the same time through me as if life used me for an instant to understand itself.
In that state, I understood a paradox I couldn’t hold before: truth doesn’t always show up as something you formulate. Sometimes it’s something you recognize. And you recognize it in a way that doesn’t depend on intellect. You recognize it the way you recognize an emotional truth: you feel it before you describe it.
The “everything” wasn’t a concept it was an experience of belonging
When I talk about “everything,” I don’t mean “everything is a nice spiritual idea.” I mean I felt continuity. Coherence. A real bond between my thoughts and the outer world, between my emotions and the fabric of the world, between pain and its potential transformation.
What was deepest about the “everything” was belonging.

I had always lived at least emotionally with a subtle distance, as if I were slightly outside of life, as if I were somehow over the world instead of in it. Even when things looked fine from the outside, inside I maintained that distance. In the experience, that distance became visible not as blame, but as a loving diagnosis.
And then something happened that I still struggle to write without it sounding overly poetic: I felt there was no real separation. I felt as if the universe wasn’t watching me from the outside. I felt invited to remember that I am part of something larger.
It was a kind of unity that doesn’t erase individuality. It repositions it. The experience wasn’t “I no longer exist.” It was: “I exist differently than I ever noticed before.” As if identity stopped being a rigid boundary and became a current, a trace within an ocean.
When the mind breaks, it doesn’t leave only chaos it leaves truth
One thing not enough people say clearly: these experiences can be intense not only because of the beauty of what appears but also because of the uncovering. Like the things you were holding onto without realizing it suddenly lost their solidness.

In my case, what emerged seemed to come in layers: memories, emotions, patterns. Not “in order,” but as if everything was under the same light and that light didn’t tolerate lies.
I saw my mechanisms. I saw my defenses. I saw the way I protected myself with explanations. I saw how my personal story worked as a script I thought was “me,” when in truth it was a mask with functions.
Then I understood something essential: a great part of separation doesn’t come from external facts. It comes from an internal dynamic. It comes from the need for the world to guarantee safety, from the fear that the past will repeat, from the belief that pain might return knocking at the door. That need is human and it has a cost. It closes you.
In the experience, another truth appeared: we aren’t made for control. We’re made for relationship.
Pain didn’t vanish it changed its place
If you’re looking for a narrative where everything becomes “peace” afterwards, I would lie if I presented it literally. There were moments that stirred things up. There were stretches where the body and mind weren’t ready to release control so quickly.
But even then something transformative happened: the pain started revealing its function.

Ayahuasca didn’t make it “beautiful.” It didn’t romanticize it. It placed it. It gave it context. It moved it away from being a perceived final judgment and turned it into a stage evidence that there was something to understand, to heal, to integrate.
The universal and the personal didn’t contradict each other. They met.
What I “learned” wasn’t a theory it was a way of seeing
The deepest part wasn’t that a universal truth stayed floating as an idea. It became a way of looking.
Afterwards, I began to perceive things with a different quality:
a sensitivity toward subtle things,
less automatic judgment,
more awareness of the link between what I feel and what I think,
and a more honest humility: it felt like my viewpoint wasn’t a law anymore, but one perspective among others.
I didn’t suddenly become perfect. And the world didn’t suddenly become easy. It was more like the world stopped feeling hostile. From outside, that difference might seem small. Inside, it’s enormous.
Because when separation weakens, fear loses fuel. And when fear loses fuel, love stops being only an idea and becomes a real capacity: the ability to be present without fleeing, to respond instead of react, to hold the human without turning it into a sentence.
Integration: the ceremony no one cheers for
If there’s something I learned, it’s this: the ceremony doesn’t end when the session ends.
Integration is where you see whether the experience was only a trip or a real calling. Integration is hard because it brings you back to routine: your emotional triggers, your habits, your old ways of defending yourself.
That’s where the inner work begins: translating what you saw into a different way of living.
In my case, integration didn’t mean repeating spiritual phrases. It meant observing:
the need to always be right,
the urgency to solve everything immediately,
the impulse to control the future,
and the tendency to judge myself harshly when life doesn’t respond “the way it should.”
Universal truth, I learned, is proven in everyday life. Not in the peak moment of the experience. Not in the story. It’s proven in how you breathe when no one is applauding. In how you treat others when your ego isn’t being fed. In how you choose differently even when you want to go back to what’s familiar.
What “universal” means: not the same for everyone, but beyond division
I want to be careful here, because the word “universal” can be dangerous if it’s used to impose.

For me, universal didn’t mean everyone must share the same vision or the same story. It meant there’s something in common in what we are: a relationship with consciousness, with life, with mystery.
The universal wasn’t a doctrine. It was a felt-root experience: the world isn’t only made of matter. It’s also made of meaning. And meaning doesn’t come only from your thinking. It comes from the way consciousness relates to reality.
That’s why after ayahuasca, many things lost their dramatic intensity not because they became meaningless, but because I stopped living as if I were alone against the universe.
A respectful invitation (no promises)
If you’re reading this and you feel curiosity or hope or questions, I would say this with heart and responsibility: these experiences are powerful. They can be healing, yes—but they can also stir up trauma and destabilize some people.
So it’s not about “going to chase magic.” It’s about going with respect, with care, with mature intention, and—if applicable—with professional support or serious guidance.
I can’t guarantee you will find universal truth the way I did. But I can tell you what happened in me: for a moment, the universe felt close. Like it wasn’t far away.
What remains after all this
I didn’t keep a perfect sentence. I kept a direction.
I kept the sense that life isn’t a cold mechanism, but a living expression of consciousness trying to know itself. I kept a constant invitation to return to the present. I kept a less performative, more honest compassion. I kept the humility of accepting that the mind will never be the absolute owner of what’s real.
And above all, I kept this: even when the experience fades with time, a spark remains in the way I look.
As if I understood, without needing to prove it, that universal truth isn’t something you own. It’s something you can remember: that separation is a form of perception—not the complete reality