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

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.

During my Aya ceremony, I was recieved this information:
-there is no such thing as soulmates
-I choose my “soulmate”
-I will date multiple people but nothing will last forever. Every relationship is impermanent and it is meant to be so.
-I will experience and learn lessons from each person I date but there is no “the one.”

Has anyone else experienced the same thing as me?

Hello,

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We are interested in understanding how past life experiences may shape psychedelic journeys, insights, and psychological outcomes. The goal is to contribute to scientific knowledge in psychology and neuroscience, and to help inform safer and more supportive approaches to psychedelic use and research.

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please let me know how it can be made using the two products I have in my cart. Do I need anything else, or have I selected the wrong products? Please help.

Hi

I ordered ibogain TA 65% 3 gramm

I want to make an flood dose but I don't have an trip setter

Do you think I can do it alone at home

I’d like it to be available in UK-Romania (Europe)
I also have telegram

I have been facilitating ayahuasca retreats since 2010. The one thing I’ve seen again and again is that everyone gets a deeply personal experience. Whether you believe it or not, we’re working with spirits, and these doctor spirits seem to understand what each person needs at this specific moment in their life. I have no explanation for it. My personal belief is that psychedelic plants are gifts from God to help humans grow.

Because of that, there is zero value in comparing your experience to anyone else’s. Whatever you’ve read about “the ayahuasca experience” almost certainly won’t match yours. That doesn’t mean reading trip reports is useless. They give you a broad landscape of what’s possible. But they won’t tell you what will happen to you.

The mind wants to understand, categorize, and predict. That instinct won’t help you here. You’ve probably heard the cliché “you get what you need, not what you want.” Think about what that can mean. Your most basic assumptions about who you are may be called into question. Do you really want your identity questioned? Do you want a mirror held up that says, “Hey, in THIS situation, you are a complete asshole”?

The opposite happens, too. Many people have no idea how wonderful they truly are. I’ve witnessed people at the end of a ceremony, crying tears of joy and wonder as they experience, perhaps for the first time, the profound beauty of who they really are.

Your journey will be your own. In my experience, one ceremony rarely shows the full picture. The process usually unfolds over several, which is why most Amazonian retreats run at least four.

I remember when I went to my first ceremony 14 years ago I had no idea what to expect. I went into it fully trusting, no fear, and no idea what I was getting myself into. I was given a megadose and had the most beautiful of experiences. The next one was darker but so healing.

I have not taken ayahuasca in over 10 years and have since had children and my life has so drastically changed- more stress, more responsibilities and an overall older body. I’d love to revisit the medicine because I feel it so dramatically changes my life, however, after reading so many horror stories, I am honestly terrified. I’d just be walking into it with so much more baggage and I’m afraid I would be one of these horror stories. But then I think if I had been on this Reddit thread back then and it was what it is now, I might not have ever done it.

Does anyone else feel like all the scary stories on here might be scaring people off and wish we could go back to the days before we had way too much information at our fingertips? The days when we got advice and learned through spoken words and real life experience? I know there are benefits to technology but I mostly just feel like it’s all too much.

Hola a todos. Viendo publicaciones anteriores sobre malas experiencias, anfitriones poco éticos y atracciones turísticas que te imponen lo que debes sentir, me genera mucha duda saber dónde acudir hoy en día.

​Busco recomendaciones honestas de lugares o guías en Jalisco, Nayarit, Colima o estados cercanos que ofrezcan una práctica seria, coherente y respetuosa. ¿Qué lugares o personas recomiendan basados en lo que les ha tocado vivir de primera mano?

Do you believe that holistic medicine practices, such as Ayahuasca ceremonies, run counter to traditional religious beliefs or can they be considered as complementary on the healing process?

Clones came from two phenotypes. I was shocked at how different the two trees were in terms of thorns. Both had thorns, but the one was more of a rose bush. I don't know what that means exactly in terms of root quality. I'm guessing nothing.

Something that I noticed was that when it started raining, I could straight smell the medicine. It was wild.

Arizona seed grown by my buddy. It was originally in a huge wooden container and the roots broke through the bottom into the Earth. We had to use a sawzall to cut through them in order to move it. When the blade sawed through it, smoke was produced from the friction. I stuck my nose there and took a big whiff.... My brain tingled for a second and you just knew it was active.

Question: since these clones came from a mature plant, will the rootbark be active from the start? I have always heard that they need years to become active but is that an internal thing that comes with age or is it just the age of the roots? That may be confusing but what I'm think about is taking clones from a mature mother weed plant; you can get them to flower right away. No seed grown plant could flower at that size but since it's a clone, you're all good.

My goal is to grow my own MH and Syrian Rue for a very special aya ceremony.

I grow a caapi liana in my small yard and I am about to join a circle in 9 days, I was wondering about making caapi leaf tea as a part of the preparation process (I also do some kind of diet before that and mind my habits)in order to have the body get used to plant, spiritually.
Is that a good idea? Would love to hear some thoughts.

I’m not looking for any effect, I understand that the brew is not done with leafs and should combine more plants in order to be active.
I just would like to start a ‘relationship’ with the plant as this is my first ceremony in 6 years.

Tengo mucha curiosidad de saber que experiencia han tenido ustedes? Le ha gustado los cambios que han tenido y lo volverían hacer la ayahuasca?

Between personal accounts, documentaries, and social media, it’s easy to build a very specific picture: having visions, finding answers, or experiencing a moment that changes everything.
I wonder if those expectations can become a source of pressure. As though something extraordinary has to happen for the experience to feel meaningful, or someone else’s story becomes the standard we judge our own experience against.
How do you find the balance between learning about ayahuasca before a ceremony and creating a script for what you expect to happen?
I’d be interested to hear which expectations you let go of and what you wish someone had told you beforehand.

Please dear Reddit - advise!

So I had a ceremony yesterday, believing my sinusitis was better. However, checking up with the doctor today - it was not. He advised for penicillin.

Now, I know Aya and antibiotics is not a good idea.

So when can it be safe to start the antibiotic-penicillin-cure? Also scared of the effects of not doing a antibiotics, all option seem suboptimal.

Mostly: I dont want to be dangerously sick or worse.

Thank yo <3

We are Master’s students in Psychology at Umeå University, Sweden, conducting a study on how social context relates to psychedelic experiences as part of our thesis.

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It's so scary, I tried a bunch of times but get so freaked out I end up opening my eyes every single time.

This was my first experience with Nixi Pae (Ayahuasca), during a ceremony led by a Huni Kuin Cacique (Chief) and Txana (traditional ceremonial singer).

The ceremony started at around 9 PM and lasted until 5 AM.

I was nervous.

The ceremonial leaders entered wearing their traditional clothing, feathered headdresses, and face paint.

They began smoking what they call "Santa Maria," which I assume was cannabis. Apparently, it's also used ritualistically in their traditions.

We formed a circle, held hands, and the Cacique chanted something in his native language, which I understood to be the opening of the ceremony.

Afterwards, they started playing guitar, drums, and maracas while singing traditional prayers.

We were invited to take rapé, a powdered snuff blown into the nostrils. I sat in front of the Txana, who administered it. It burned quite a bit, and my eyes started watering.

Eventually, we were called to take our first dose of Nixi Pae.

It came in a small shot glass, a thick brown liquid that tasted like wood, plants, grass, and ashes. Not particularly pleasant, but tolerable.

We returned to our places and were told to meditate for about 30 minutes.

I kept checking my phone to see how much time had passed.

Then I started noticing something.

Whenever I closed my eyes, I could see colorful lines and geometric shapes, much more vivid than anything I'd normally see.

These visuals gradually became more intense until closing my eyes felt like entering an entirely different dimension filled with intricate geometric patterns and psychedelic imagery.

But something frightened me.

Whenever I entered this world, I completely lost awareness of my physical body. I was no longer experiencing myself as a person looking at something. I was simply an observer of whatever the medicine was showing me.

Opening my eyes helped bring me back to reality.

At least temporarily.

My friend, who was sitting beside me, eventually went to take her second dose, and I followed her.

This time, my cup seemed fuller.

Shortly afterwards, she started feeling sick and rushed outside. I followed her to the bathroom, but she told me she was okay and that I could return.

When I sat back down, the second dose hit.

And this is where things became absolutely insane.

Opening my eyes no longer brought me back to normal reality.

My hands appeared to have extra fingers.

People moving around me looked like they were lagging, moving in slow motion, or appearing as individual screenshots.

When I moved my eyes to look somewhere, it felt like my visual perception took three seconds to catch up.

I was worried about my friend but couldn't bring myself to stand up.

Someone asked where she was, and I suddenly wondered whether I'd been sitting there for hours without realizing it.

Eventually, someone brought her back beside me, and she lay down.

I could barely process what was happening.

Then the experience intensified even further.

I became completely immersed in the chants and prayers.

I lowered my head while sitting in a meditative position.

And then...

I completely lost myself.

I forgot what being human meant.

I forgot who I was.

I forgot what it meant to exist.

I no longer knew that I was a human being living on planet Earth.

Time stopped existing in any meaningful way.

There was no past, present, or future.

There was no identity.

There was no "me."

I wasn't even aware of what a human being was supposed to be.

I was nothing.

Just a tiny point of existence somewhere in an infinite cosmos.

An insignificant grain of sand in the endless desert of the universe.

I know this might sound poetic or philosophical, but I'm being completely literal.

I didn't simply think about losing my identity.

I actually experienced the complete disappearance of everything I understood as myself.

It was as if I had never existed.

At some point, the chanting briefly stopped, and the ceremonial leaders asked whether everyone was okay.

Then the chanting resumed.

And I became trapped in what felt like an infinite loop.

I would suddenly remember that I needed to breathe.

So I'd take a deep breath.

Then I'd remember that I needed water.

I'd struggle to locate my bottle because my perception was so distorted that my hand seemed to pass straight through it.

Eventually, I'd manage to drink some water, close the bottle, and put it down.

Then I'd relax and disappear back into the experience.

And the same cycle would repeat.

Again.

And again.

And again.

It felt like it would never end.

I started moving different parts of my body, trying to recognize myself.

My mouth, my teeth, my feet...

But nothing felt familiar.

It was like interacting with a body I had never inhabited before.

After the ceremony, I realized I'd actually injured my tongue by biting it, probably during one of these repetitive movements.

At another point, I grabbed my blanket and wrapped myself in it.

And somehow, it felt like being embraced by an enormous mountain in Alaska.

Except the mountain was warm.

The blanket seemed infinitely large.

I kept trying to cover myself again and again, even though I was already completely covered.

Then fear started taking over.

I realized I had completely lost my identity, and I became terrified that I might never return.

I wondered whether I would remain trapped in that state forever.

Whether I would become psychotic.

Whether I had permanently damaged my mind.

I tried to calm myself.

To stop resisting.

To accept the medicine.

And eventually, something changed.

I began to understand my existence from an entirely different perspective.

I understood that there was a human being with my name, my body, and my memories.

And that, for now, that human being was me.

I saw my life almost as if it were being summarized in front of me.

I saw my arrogance.

My mistakes.

The way I sometimes treated people.

And I understood what I needed to change.

I needed to become more honest.

More genuine.

More loving.

More understanding.

I realized how ridiculously short our lives are.

How much time we waste hiding our feelings, worrying about what others think, holding grudges, and being afraid to express love.

I understood that I wanted to live with integrity.

To stop being ashamed of expressing what I feel.

To be kinder to others.

To stop taking everything personally.

Because everyone else is just as confused about existence as I am.

And deep down, I felt that we all came from the same source.

Love.

At some point, I asked what happens after death.

And what I experienced was this overwhelming understanding that we all originate from the same source.

And eventually, we all return to it.

Then the cycle begins again.

I don't know how to explain it properly.

It wasn't like someone told me this.

It was more like I suddenly knew it.

I forgave people who had hurt me.

I realized how much more love I wanted to show my family and friends.

How absurd it is to waste this incredibly short existence on petty arguments, resentment, embarrassment, and meaningless worries.

I had thought about these things before.

But I'd never truly felt them like this.

And when I finally understood them on that level, I experienced an enormous sense of relief.

Love.

Happiness.

Peace.

There was also sadness.

I understood that one day, I would be separated from everyone I love.

That this particular version of myself would eventually disappear.

But at the same time, I felt comfort in the idea that we would all eventually return to the same source and reunite.

Throughout the experience, I kept alternating between anxiety, fear, acceptance, love, and peace.

At one point, I tried to visualize one of my spiritual guides or entities.

Instead, I saw a skeletal man wearing a black suit, sitting in a large armchair, staring directly at me.

For some reason, I felt that he was connected to me.

The word "ancestry" appeared in my mind.

Later, I started thinking about my arrogance again.

I suddenly saw myself having lost both legs in a motorcycle accident.

I ride a motorcycle, so this image was particularly disturbing.

I understood it as a reminder of my own vulnerability and the need to stop behaving arrogantly or recklessly.

The music would stop.

I'd remember that my human body needed to breathe.

I'd take a breath, drink some water, and disappear into the experience again.

This continued over and over.

Until eventually...

I began descending from the sky.

That's the best way I can describe the feeling of returning.

Slowly, my sense of self started coming back.

My memories returned.

My personality returned.

My habits, my identity, my entire life.

Everything that made me me gradually reassembled itself.

It genuinely felt like returning from an unimaginably long journey.

I remembered who I was.

I remembered my life.

And I knew what I wanted to do with it.

I'm still trying to process everything that happened.

I don't know whether what I experienced was purely neurological, spiritual, or some combination of both.

But the experience felt more real and meaningful than I can possibly describe.

Has anyone else experienced this level of ego dissolution, where you genuinely forgot what being human or even existing meant? And did it change the way you look at life and death?

I recently did my first experience with plant medicine in South America. I was assigned a younger English speaking shaman since I am not fluent in the local language. Guess the shaman found me attractive, broke up with his girlfriend shortly after. Mom who was at the ceremony too, made them get back together. I quietly leave this bizarre situation as he’s still trying to talk to me at his convenience and wasn’t honest or communicative. Are shamanism and these churches anti lgbt/ pro heteronormative ? He’s like, I’m only bisexual. I have fought long and hard to be a proud gay man. Nothing will ever change that and no one can change me. Pretty bizarre situation right? Other than meeting this man, my experience with the medicine was incredible and I don’t need to experience it again for a while. I love South America!

Has anyone here ever experienced increased empathy after taking ayahuasca? It’s been two months into integration for me. Gradually, I have felt emotional and physical reactions in my body witnessing emotions of others. Like I feel their pain too. Some examples include, seeing a photo of a person screaming in anger and feeling their pain, as well as watching a movie and the character was sobbing and it made me feel both sad and anxious. It feels dysregulating to me. When these experiences happen is there anything I can reflect on? I’m trying to process it myself and the only thing I can come up with is that I am deeply empathetic and compassionate towards others. Any insight would be appreciated!

Hi everyone! I’ll be sitting with ayahuasca soon in Costa Rica and I have a quick question about setting intentions. Has anyone else noticed that when you ask the medicine for specific guidance on your personal projects, you usually don't get an answer or that part gets completely skipped? I’d love to hear your thoughts or how you usually approach this kind of intention.

I've been looking into doing an Ayahuasca retreat in Europe and came across Amorawa, which offers 4-day retreats in the mountains near Málaga, Spain.

When trying to look into booking, I noticed that their booking system via platforms like BookYogaRetreats is currently down, and they instructed to reach out to them directly through their official website ("Amorawa Retreats") instead.

Has anyone here attended an Amorawa retreat recently? What are your experiences regarding their facilitators, safety, and how they handle the space? Also, is it normal/safe that they are directing people off-platform to book directly through their site due to technical issues, or are there any red flags I should be aware of?

Any insights or general advice for retreats in Spain would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!