The answer is simple: do nothing. You don't need to channel it, wield it, or use it in any particular way—just let it be. When the storm comes, don't hold on to the sound of thunder. That’s what you do with power.

Ayahuasca does not bring enlightenment. If this assumption were true, many people who drink medicine would be liberated. They are not. Real enlightenment is free of seeking—it is the inward turning to realise that which does not turn, to see that which can not be seen.

Presence is what is healing. You bathe in the cleansing presence that is reflected, but it is your own awareness, it is your own eternal presence that emerges. Listen now: what does not fall is not external to you.

Some people are constantly looking for answers, and they’ll find all sorts of ways to locate and justify them. But even when you “receive” something, it’s not like the entire universe is speaking to you through this one particular thing. Everything is mixed and blended with our personality, our own biases, afflictions, beliefs, experiences, upbringing, conditioning, and all of that.

If you don’t know where you are, who you are, who your allies are, how to walk, how to talk, how to sing, how to listen, or how to discern—what game are you even playing? It can be dangerous to dive into deep, open waters without understanding the territory or having the right equipment and a professional diver with you. Ultimately, the question is not just whether one can drink alone, but whether one understands the depth of what they are engaging with.

For those of us whose first language is English, there's probably going to be a part that feels cheesy with that, and more exotic and mysterious with a different language. The other side of the reality is that our own dialect hits home. It hits the heartstrings in a different way. It resonates and registers with a different part of our brain.

Some come to the medicine with a list of demands, hoping to gain or improve—but what if there is no separate self to perfect? The path of realisation is not self-enhancement, but seeing through the illusion of self altogether. It begins by relaxing the tightness of identification and listening deeply to what presence reveals.

I appreciate all of the pathways that wind around the forest. I've been exposed to many different leaders, great ayahuasqueros, curanderos, onanyas, kurakas, pajés, madrinhas, padrinhos, and I want to be something of a translator. Sometimes, my role is to be a bridge between this world and that world, this world and the other.

To know oneself is to recognise the dynamic web of existence, where everything is in relationship. We are never truly separate; connection permeates all things in varying degrees. In this network of interbeing, everyone and everything is, in some way, a relative of yours.

Ayahuasca is a mystery. It opens the doors to the mysteries. Ask anyone who has been drinking for many years, and they will tell you that when you think you have it figured out, that is when you better watch out. Ayahuasca reveals itself to us like a mirror. If you let go of the internal stances you hold, you too become like a mirror. When two mirrors meet, there is no one there.

If we start our approach with respect, reverence, sincerity, and humility, we set off on the right foot and lay a stable foundation for a meaningful meeting with the medicine. When we come with a sincere and devotional attitude, it is wise to consider how this offsets any hyper-individual notions that it is somehow all about us and the symbols we find. Instead, it opens us to a relational, dynamic, and musical world where the boundaries between inside and outside coalesce and invite us to cherish the beautiful wonder of feeling ever-so-small in the presence of it all.

It has been said that the vine is the book where all of the wisdom is contained, and the leaf is the lamp light by which to read the book. Another way of phrasing this is that the leaf is the remote control for the television, while the vine contains the movie, the story, and the meaning.

Ayahuasca, like many plants, can peel back layers and reveal a sense of belonging—to ourselves, to our environment, and to something greater. But it is not the path itself. As they say in Zen, it is the finger pointing at the moon. Seeing it is not enough; drinking medicine is not enough. It opens the door, but one must learn to step through it on their own.