The Marriage of the Vine and Leaf: A Great Teacher
When it comes to drinking ayahuasca, it can be complex, but we don’t need to make it complicated. There are countless ways to approach it. Across South America—in Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, Colombia, Venezuela, and Brazil—and now all over the world, it appears the genie is out of the bottle and the word “ayahuasca” has found its way into household dinner conversations as well as dramatic pop culture references. Who has authority? Which way is the right way?
It is fair to say that there is no one monopoly or tradition that has the keys to the house of ayahuasca. So, we should be humble enough to step back and learn from many ways, and be wise enough to not be too dogmatic about what any one way says. There are many assumptions, stigmas, conspiracies, and legends surrounding ayahuasca, each offering a unique window into understanding its cultural significance and immensity.
In fact, the more we learn from the tribes who’ve worked with this medicine for generations, the more we see how vast the territory really is.
On one side of the Amazon River, they might insist, “This is how it’s done, and you should never do that.” Meanwhile, on the other side, they’ll say, “No, you should always do that, and never this.” It’s an ongoing study—not to decide who’s right or wrong, but to help us open our minds and embrace the many ways this medicine can be approached.
For example, on the Peruvian side of the Amazon, ayahuasca is often called La Madre (the mother) or Abuela (the grandmother). Many people, especially in the West, associate it with a feminine energy, like a wise matriarch, sometimes strict, sometimes consoling—the old crone that holds you and loves you and sometimes spanks you. But in some parts of Colombia, it’s referred to as Tata, Taita—a distinctly masculine energy, and in parts of Brazil it is called “the king”.
Who is correct? Is it a male or a female entity that we are working with? We do not necessarily have to get caught up in anthropomorphic ideas of gendering the sacrament.
At the end of the day, if you ask me, its gender does not matter. What matters most is that we learn from the cultures that learn from the medicine, and if they have been saying that it is a mother, a father, a grandmother, or a grandfather, then we should approach it as such.
If we are in the presence of a wise parent or grandparent, then hopefully we carry each of the following four attributes:
Respect : In the presence of our elders, we should hold respect. Respect acknowledges value. Respect for those who came before us—those who have seen and experienced much before our lives began—even those in the plant world. Respect for tradition and the teachers who provide the knowledge of working within its landscapes. We should never be so arrogant as to think we have it all figured out, or that we cannot learn from everything around us. Respect is a way of realising that, in being taught and in learning, something priceless is transmitted to us—something worth far more than money could ever buy. It is an act of honoring the wisdom and work that have made the practice available to us. Thus, respect serves as a bridge between oneself and others, and should foster a foundation of gratitude and reverence.
Reverence: Reverence is the deepening of respect; where respect acknowledges value, reverence sanctifies it. Reverence arises when respect meets awe, when we recognise the pricelessness and rarity of what we have encountered. We don’t have to fully understand what we revere; in fact, it is often in our inability to comprehend that reverence becomes most luminous, inviting us to stand humbly before the vast and the ineffable. Reverence is to realise that what we are engaging with is not merely a tool or tradition but a living connection to the divine, to wisdom, and to truth.
Sincerity: Sincerity is a softening into the deeper commitment that allows us to see more clearly. We must be sincere in the depths of our heart about our reason, our decision, and our choice to drink the sacrament—or to walk upon any path, for that matter. There must be sincerity in our prayer and petition to be a student and uncover meaning. Sometimes, we drink this beverage, and it unfolds into every crevice and stream of our inner landscape, leaving us with nowhere to hide. This can be confronting. Sincerity gives us the ability to look at ourselves and the places where we hide, to see them without being quick to judge or look away.
Humility: We have many catchphrases around here; one of my favourites is, If you don’t come with humility, you will be humbled along the way. While it might sound like a warning, it is truly an invitation. Humility is a gift that keeps us grounded and open to growth, allowing us to approach the path as perpetual students. There is that old biblical saying: Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. I love that—it’s a wonderful contemplation. This wisdom reminds us that humility is not about thinking less of ourselves, but about thinking of ourselves less. It shifts the focus away from self-centeredness and opens the door for true learning.
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.
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In Brazil, some say the leaf is the manifestation of the Divine Mother and devotionally call her Rainha da Floresta, the Queen of the Forest. As its masculine counterpart, the vine is called Rei Jagube, the King Jagube. We could then say that it is the marriage of the King and the Queen that serve to form the sacred beverage.
In Shipibo, the term for this union is oni, meaning wisdom or knowledge. An ayahuasquero in that tradition is referred to as an onanya, meaning A person of knowledge or someone who possesses wisdom.
The elders in some of these groups are often illiterate and did not go to school. However, many of their children and grandchildren who ventured off with the opportunity to study in the cities and came back educated still seek out these elders to learn that which cannot be taught in books and institutions: the wisdom of which they say ayahuasca taught them or showed them.
It is thus regarded as far more than a mere tea. In the South, there is a saying that it is tomar la conciencia, to drink consciousness. What is it to drink pure awareness? What is it to drink the full, overflowing realm and possibility of consciousness? For many—and surely for any serious practitioner—it is an act of learning, of studentship, of understanding, and receiving wisdom in a direct, gnostic manner, which in turn reinforces the notion of ayahuasca as being un(a) Gran Maestro/a or a Great Teacher.
This great teacher acts as the headmaster of a spiritual university, a place where students are instructed, challenged to confront their inner struggles, and taught discipline. At times, this teacher extends a supportive hand, the healing of psycho/spiritual wounds through the releasing of emotions, bound up mental energies, and deep purification, often offering comfort, and fostering creativity and connection. Even though many traditions turn off the lights to drink, we could say they do this because ayahuasca turns on the lights.
In the Mestizo, animist, and shamanic cultures of ayahuasca, some become healers or doctorcitos, skilled in ancient and ancestral medicine methods that address physical, metaphysical, psychological, and spiritual healing. They gain insight into the mind and the body through knowledge of the plants, usually and hopefully uncovering concepts of restoring harmony in the individuals they work with.
Others might use ayahuasca to advance their skills in the arts, like weaving colourful tapestries or creating embroidery, beadwork, or paintings that reflect the complex patterns of the visionary state. Some learn music, a crucial element that fuels the ceremonial healing journey. The medicine man or woman enhances their ability to navigate the trance of the ceremonial space by refining their skills in the harmony of sound and silence; of rhythm and vibration.
On the receiving end of this work, individuals who drink ayahuasca may discover how to be better parents, children, wise elders, or community members. They may learn how to participate in the miraculous gift of life by finding contentment, peace, and rest in their identity, location, and possessions.
However, through their experiences drinking medicine, people often come to realise that what they heal and recover is inherent. It is a truth not solely found in the psychedelic experience but also in the grounded realities of everyday life. Applied universal mysticism and spirituality is not a fancy career, a cloak, or a fad like a genre of music. Rather, it is inherent in each individual as the core and essence of their life and being.
