My First Ceremony Chapter 8

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MY FIRST CEREMONY. Everyone's first experience will de unique and different. But below is a full description of the first experience.

© Copyright of Star Weaver

I was like a scared animal.

I did lots of research about what to expect, and most of it only made things worse. The scary stories, unsettling accounts, and worst-case scenarios. Still, I was committed. I did the dieta and stuck to all the advice that was given to me with absolute discipline. But my overactive mind and ego were screaming at me. Whispering panic through every cell of my being.

You are going to lose control? What if you never come back from it? What if you lose your mind?

All those fear-based stories I’d read and heard, even though shared with the best intentions, were swirling in my head. People had said they’d lost control of their bowels, that they’d purged so intensely they thought they might actually die. I was holding all of this inside, tightly braced against the unknown.

Then the day came. The first ceremony. The day that would change everything.

I was so nervous. I arrived at 7:30 pm as stated. A few people had already turned up, but we were still waiting for others to arrive before anything could begin.  Straight away, this was a trigger for me. I’ve mentioned before, I was not good in social situations. The thought of small talk, of trying to find something to say while my nerves were in knots, felt unbearable. It meant I would have to make conversation with strangers when all I truly wanted to do was crawl into a quiet corner and hide  and wait for it all to start. Beneath the fear… I was also really excited. Deep down, something was calling me forward, something undeniable and ancient. My stomach was turning over in anticipation, swirling with the tension of dread and hope, and  fear and possibilities. I was stepping into something I could feel was huge, even if I couldn’t name it yet.

The shaman, my teacher of the medicine wheel, had also trained to be an ayahuasquera with their teacher from the Peruvian rainforest. There are many names for this. Ayahuasquero/a , Currendero/a .  This was of the Shipibo lineage. My teacher had a big presence and was a very big personality. This is not always the case for shamans, some are very quiet and work in the shadows, whispering between worlds and tending the energy in more subtle ways. But not my teacher. They filled the space with their energy, with their voice, with their stories. They would talk a lot, sometimes repeating the same story over and over again to the next person who had come into the ceremony space. I noticed. I realised at this early point that my observation of people is usually spot on. There was something about the way I could tune into people intuitively, read the energy beneath the surface. As later down the line, all my first impressions were proved to be right.

The time was passing, and more and more people started to arrive. Strangers filtered in one by one, laying out their mats, claiming their spots. It was getting late now. We did not even start the process until 10pm. Which is not great for someone who was nervous and scared. I just wanted to get on with it. Every passing moment felt like an eternity.  I didn’t want more time to sit in my fear or have my thoughts spiral into the worst-case scenarios. I wanted to cross the threshold already. There was a long speech, and a long explanation of what to expect, how the night might unfold, and another long speech about my teacher and what was going on in their life. There was a part of me that was questioning why ,would a space holder or any healer would talk about their own life issues so much.  I tried to listen, but my nerves were humming, every word stretching the space between me and the moment I was dreading.

Then finally, we were invited to take it in turns to approach the altar. One by one we came up to the altar to take the first cup of the medicine. As it was my turn, I was so nervous my hands were shaking. Everything in me was trembling, but I walked up anyway. As I held the cup and said my prayers into it, I did my best to steady myself.  My heart was pounding so loud I was sure others must be able to hear it. I  drank the medicine very quickly, not wanting to linger over it too long and I had to hold my nose as it tasted disgusting. Thick, earthy, bitter. Unlike anything I had ever tasted before. I was given a piece of orange to bite on to help neutralise the taste lingering in my mouth. I was grateful for the burst of citrus that chased the medicine down. It was done. I had crossed the threshold. It was irreversible now.

After I went up for my first dose, I sat back down and at first, I thought nothing was happening at all.  I simply settled in and focused on listening to the icaros. The sacred medicine songs. The Maestra and her assistants were singing these with such devotion and power, their voices weaving through the room like threads of light and healing. I let myself be carried by the melodies, feeling their vibrations ripple through the air.

At first, the experience seemed unremarkable and quiet, almost subtle. As if nothing was happening at all.

Eventually, I lay down, surrendering to the moment, and slowly began to notice a tingling sensation in my hands and feet. It was subtle at first but grew stronger as I sank deeper and deeper into the bed beneath me. The world around me softened, and then the images began to emerge. They came like waves, vivid and intense. At one point, a crocodile appeared, lying upon me and moving deliberately up my body. The emergence of the crocodile, a potent symbol across many cultures, arrived in my vision as a powerful messenger with  a deep, symbolic purpose. This creature’s fierce action of biting off my head, was not violent in the way one might imagine but rich with meaning. It represented a profound shedding, a ritualistic release of all the mental burdens, and worries, which  accumulated through thoughts that no longer served me. In that moment, the crocodile embodied ancient wisdom, primal instincts, and the raw forces of nature, becoming the agent of cleansing. It stripped away the dense layers of mental clutter and noise, clearing space within me for deeper healing and clarity to emerge. The crocodile bit my head off, and with a voice that resonated deep within me, he told me, “I’m getting rid of all your mind crap.” It was not scary like one might think. It was liberating. I understood deeply what was happening.

The intervention of the crocodile was not simply a vision but a powerful archetypal moment, a divine messenger sent to initiate me into a deeper truth. Its fierce act of biting away my head symbolized the urgent necessity to shed the mental clutter, the old patterns, and limiting beliefs that weighed me down. It was a brutal kindness, a medicine-fuelled purging that cleared the path for transformation.

The arrival of  Big Chief,  my main spirit guide, a towering figure of wisdom and strength from the North American Indian lineage, elevated my journey to something deeply sacred and spiritual. His presence was immense, majestic, and powerful. I never tell anyone his name. He told me that, that was for me to know only. But I did research it later on and it turned out he lived and was a person who could be traced back to a time of the K’iche lineage.  He was like a guardian from another dimension stepping into the swirling vortex of my consciousness.

His presence was powerful and reassuring as he began working on me. Suddenly, without warning, he pushed his hands deeper and deeper inside me, right into my chest. I felt his energy reach into the core of my being. Then, with a tenderness that surprised me, he pulled out my heart and held it up to the light, allowing it to receive waves of healing and restoration. I could feel the warmth and the radiance as my heart opened, bathed in that sacred light. After a while, he gently put my heart back inside me, returning it whole and renewed.

That moment was profound—a raw, intimate healing that reached far beyond anything I had ever experienced before. It was as if my entire being was being cleansed and repaired from the inside out, guided by the wisdom of my protector and the sacred power of the medicine. The sensation was surreal—his hands felt like ancient energy itself, plunging into places I didn’t know needed healing. Then, in that moment he pulled out my heart. My heart, was lifted up, held high into a radiant light that pulsed with bright energy. That light wasn’t just illumination it was a breathing force of healing, with colours beyond human sight, like a kaleidoscope of shimmering stars, and it bathed my heart in warmth and transformation.

I felt layers of pain, fear, and shadow dissolving, everything that had weighed down my spirit was melting away. It was as if Chief hands were not only extracting my heart but extracting the deepest wounds I had carried, exposing them to the cleansing light so they could be purified, reformed, and reborn.

A sacred ceremony of rebirth, a shamanic resurrection of my spirit. Chief, with his fierce energy, was guiding me through a spiritual initiation, where my heart was both broken open and made whole again all in the space of minutes. But lifetimes with the deepest parts of my soul.

My vivid and surreal journey within the realm of Ayahuasca, the sacred plant medicine, unfolded like a tapestry woven with threads of mysticism and rich symbolism. As the initial waves of the medicine coursed through my veins, I was carried away on a river of shifting visions and sensations. The icaros—the sacred songs sung by the Maestra and her assistants—served as a powerful portal, opening a doorway to another dimension entirely. Their voices resonated deep within me, guiding and weaving the experience together, like a spiritual map navigating the unseen realms. Through the melodies, I felt transported beyond the physical, entering a space where time and reality blurred, and the ancient wisdom of the plant spirits began to reveal itself.

It was as if my spirit was being reborn, freed from the confines of a restless mind, and guided into a new realm of awareness where healing and growth could truly begin.

The vivid imagery and symbolic acts that unfolded during my Ayahuasca journey were nothing short of a sacred initiation into the deepest realms of my own consciousness. Each moment felt like a step through a portal, where the medicine served as an unfailing conduit for healing, cleansing, and spiritual revelation. This was a journey far beyond the ordinary.

 As the visions deepened and the sacred medicine wove its intricate patterns two powerful and striking figures emerged from the depths of the journey. Mother Jaguar and what I now call the colossal centipede. Their presence was unmistakable; their symbolism layered with ancient wisdom that stirred something primal within me.

Mother Jaguar appeared first. Her regal, fierce, presence.  In countless indigenous cultures across the Americas, the jaguar holds sacred status, revered as a guardian of the forest and a symbol of raw power, protection, and maternal strength. She embodies the mysterious duality of the wild. Of the shadows, the one that holds no fear. Her eyes were on me and they were alive, watchful, and fiercely protective.

Her eyes, glowing with a soft, yet penetrating light, seemed to peer directly into my soul, inviting me to connect with the depths of my own primal nature. The jaguar’s presence whispered of courage and an invitation to awaken the fierce warrior within, to reclaim my inner strength and resilience. She seemed to say, “You are not alone. You are protected by the wild forces of nature and the ancestral spirits. You carry their strength within you.”

Mother Jaguar’s energy radiated a maternal power that was both comforting and awe-inspiring and quite frankly you knew you needed to take note or there would be some sort of castigation from her. It was as if she waited patiently for me to fully step into my sovereignty, to honour the wildness within me and the instinctual wisdom that has been obscured by years of conditioning and doubt. She was a reminder that beneath the layers of fear and uncertainty, a powerful, untamed force resided within me and within all of us waiting to be embraced.

Just as I was absorbing the energy of this magnificent guardian, the vision shifted, and a colossal centipede began to crawl over my being. This creature, often feared for its many legs and segmented body, emerged as an unexpected symbol of transformation and regeneration. In many spiritual traditions, centipedes are seen as agents of purification, moving steadily through darkness to clear away what is stale and stagnant.

The centipede’s slow, deliberate crawl over me felt like a deep cleansing, as if it were navigating the spiritual terrain of my body and soul, shedding layers of old wounds, fears, and limitations. Each segment seemed to represent a stage in my own metamorphosis, an unfolding process of letting go of what no longer served my highest good.

Its many legs, tirelessly moving in perfect coordination, symbolized persistence, each leg represented a story or a wound that I had inside of me. a. The centipede’s presence was a powerful invitation to surrender to the process of transformation, to trust that  sometimes the  uncomfortable shedding and renewal is essential for growth and rebirth.

These two powerful symbols, the maternal strength of Mother Jaguar and the relentless transformational force of the centipede were weaving  a profound narrative within my journey. They echoed a sacred message: that true strength comes not only from fierce protection but also from the willingness to let go, to shed old skins and emerge renewed.

As I continued to integrate after this profound first journey into my life, I sense that the lessons and energies brought forth by Mother Jaguar and the centipede would unfold further, guiding me on a path of healing, awakening, and deep connection with the natural and spiritual worlds. Deeper than I understood in that moment. I was in the South direction and jaguar did not want to wait but this was not the time right now for me to go into the west with the Jaguar there was still work to do with serpent. Serpent is the first direction of the medicine wheel.

Then, that is when the snakes began their work. Their presence was unmistakable, serpentine forms weaving gracefully and deliberately around my body, from the crown of my head all the way down to the soles of my feet. Their movement was fluid and hypnotic, as though they flowed through me like a river of energy, exploring every nook and cranny of my being.

These were not ordinary snakes. In the sacred space of this Ayahuasca journey, they carried the weight of ancient symbolism, guardians of transformation and healing. Across countless cultures and spiritual traditions, snakes represent renewal, rebirth, and the shedding of old skins and a metaphor for letting go of the past and stepping into a new version of oneself.

As they slithered over my skin and through my energetic field, the snakes sought out darkness and the heavy, blackened parts within me. With gentle but unwavering precision, they latched onto these shadows, these pockets of negativity, pain, and unresolved trauma lodged deep in my body and spirit. They consumed them, pulling these burdens out of me, extracting them like poison from a wound. I saw them spitting out the dark poison then straight back to work they would find another black shadow that would need removing.

This process was all at once unsettling and profoundly soothing. I could feel the weight being lifted off of my body. Then placing light in the darkness.  As if a healing fire was being kindled from within, fuelled by the serpents’ ancient energy. We call it the illumination process on the Medicine wheel. The snakes worked like living medicine, weaving through the intricate pathways of my energy, cleansing, and purifying every layer of my being. It was a sacred psychic surgery. Profound and deeply transformative. Their presence reminded me that healing is a process of continual shedding and letting go of that which no longer serves you to make space for new life and growth.

In the broader tapestry of my Ayahuasca experience, the snakes joined the ranks of other potent guides—Mother Jaguar’s fierce protection, the centipede’s connection to the darkness and the lower world. The shadows of humankind. The depravity. Together this formed a vivid narrative of transformation and rebirth. Each creature, a unique messenger, contributed a vital thread to this journey of self-discovery and spiritual renewal. I knew there and then this would not be the only time I would experience this medicine.

The process of purification beyond the ceremony would continue removing old patterns, to welcome healing with open arms, and to honour the wisdom of these sacred teachers. They showed me so much all in one night.  In the surrender, there is freedom. I was given a chance to reclaim my true self, radiant and renewed, emerging from the shadows with clarity and grace. Or at least have a glimpse of who she was. There was more work to do.

After the snakes and the serpent energy had finished working on me. I then felt the weight of toads sitting heavily upon me, accompanied by the unsettling presence of swarming flies. This strange yet powerful imagery carried an unmistakable message. These creatures were embodiments of all the people who had “shit on me,” those who had left their mark of pain, betrayal, and neglect upon my life. They were connected to spells and heavy energy.

Toads, across many cultures and spiritual traditions, are deeply symbolic creatures. Often linked to transformation, rebirth, and the alchemical process of releasing toxins, their presence on my body was both a discomfort and a profound invitation. They represented the emotional poisons that had been laid upon me by others and old wounds, harmful words, and toxic energies I had absorbed but not yet fully let go of. The toads sat there, stubborn, and weighty, urging me to confront these burdens head-on, to acknowledge the residue of pain embedded deep within my spirit.

Flies, too, carried their own heavy symbolism. They are creatures associated with decay, decomposition, and the unwanted remnants left behind by time and neglect. In this context, the relentless buzzing of flies around me symbolized the persistent, nagging effects of those negative influences and annoyances and emotional scars that had clung to me long after the initial wounds were inflicted. They were reminders of how certain toxic energies tend to linger if left unaddressed, festering quietly beneath the surface.

Together, the toads and flies painted a vivid and visceral picture of the emotional landscape I had carried. One marked by the stains left by those who had hurt me. Yet, within this discomfort lay a sacred opportunity. The presence of these creatures was a call to let go, a ceremonial cleansing of the toxic legacy imposed by others. It was as if the medicine was showing me the exact source of my emotional heaviness and guiding me to let it go.

This encounter aligned beautifully with the overarching theme of my journey which was one of purification, healing, and transformation. Just as the snakes consumed black spots of negativity and the jaguar offered fierce protection, the toads and flies served as teachers of release and renewal. They embodied the messy, uncomfortable truth that healing often requires facing what we most want to avoid and acknowledging the damage others have done and bravely choosing to cleanse ourselves of it.

As I reflect on this powerful symbolism, I am reminded that healing is not always graceful or pleasant. Sometimes, it involves sitting with the grime, the weight of past hurts, and allowing those feelings to surface fully so they can be transmuted. The toads and flies showed me that the path to freedom includes the willingness to endure discomfort, to face the shadows left by others, and ultimately to reclaim my own energetic space.

Big Chief came through again, his presence as solid and ancient as the mountains themselves. He whispered ancient rites to me. I never heard the words clearly, but I knew without a doubt that they had sank deep into my being. These were not just sounds but vibrations, encoded transmissions of sacred wisdom that passed beyond the limits of my ears and touched the core of my soul. His voice was like a river flowing through time, carrying the teachings of my ancestors, their protection, and their blessings. Even in silence, his presence was loud, a powerful grounding force reminding me of my lineage, my roots, and the strength woven into my very essence.

Then, Mother Aya appeared before me. A radiant and otherworldly, being bathed in shimmering blue light. Her eyes were large and luminous, a yellow colour and they seemed to be reflecting the cosmos itself, deep pools of ancient knowing that seemed to see directly into my heart. Her skin was adorned with intricate indigenous markings and symbols of a language so ancient but also familiar. The spirit world and the sacred earth. She was both fierce and gentle, a guardian and a healer, embodying the living wisdom of the plant medicine. In her gaze, I felt a boundless love and profound invitation to surrender and trust. I was being held. Like a mother held a new-born baby.

The blue hue that cloaked her was not accidental. Blue, the colour of the vast sky and deep waters, symbolized spiritual insight, intuitive clarity, and the mystical realms beyond our everyday perception. Her presence felt like a sacred bridge between this world and the higher planes of consciousness, a living reminder that the medicine was not just a physical brew but a doorway to divine guidance and transformation.

My Native American Big chief guide and Mother Ayahuasca. Both formed a sacred convergence of ancestral power and divine feminine wisdom. Their union within my vision was a profound calling to reconnect with my own spiritual lineage and the earth’s ancient teachings. They beckoned me to embrace the fusion of my personal history and the universal truths carried by these sacred traditions.

This moment was more than a vision; it was an initiation into a deeper understanding of my path. It invited me to honour the timeless wisdom that flows through bloodlines and nature, to open myself fully to the medicine’s teachings, and to integrate this sacred knowledge my life. Their presence was a blessing and a call to walk forward with courage, humility.

Towards the end of the ceremony, an overwhelming wave of sickness settled over me. It was a heavy, churning feeling inside, a restless discomfort that no amount of stillness could soothe. Yet, despite the rising unease, nothing would come up. The purging or the release so often spoken of by others seemed stubbornly withheld. I felt trapped in my own body, desperate for relief, desperate for rest. By this time, I was really needing to sleep.

Finally, it came. The serpent. The same ancient archetype who had guided me earlier had rose up from the depths within me.  She began to pull energy from the dark places I’d buried deep inside, dragging forth memories and emotions tangled tightly around one figure: My father. All the pain and the hurt, abandonment, rejection, betrayal all came to the surface. It was so raw.  Alongside them came the toxic shadows of jealousy from my stepmother and the fractured trust, heavy burdens I hadn’t fully faced until that moment.

The serpent moved  winding its way from my stomach, through my throat, and finally erupting from my mouth. I purged so hard, not just physically but emotionally and spiritually. It was as if the serpent was cleansing me, shedding not only physical toxins but also the accumulated pain that had nested in my soul for lifetimes.

In that moment, the serpent was not just a creature of the jungle or myth but a transformative force. But a guide leading me through the darkness of my past toward the light of renewal. Through its fierce medicine, I was given the gift of letting go and the possibility of forgiveness, compassion, and ultimately, profound healing. Though the memories and pain were painful to face, I knew I was no longer alone. The medicine had shown me that even the deepest wounds could be met with love, held with grace, and transmuted into strength. They become your power.

After the intense purging, I felt a gentle, powerful presence envelop me. A big Bear came forward, wrapping me in a warm, protective embrace. His large, strong arms held me close, his deep breath a soothing lullaby against the chaos that still roared inside me. In that moment, Bear was everything I needed, strength, safety, and unconditional nurture. His presence was very fatherly and a symbol of steady comfort amidst the storm of my emotions.

I stayed awake all through the night, cradled by Bear’s quiet strength, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle but unable to fully rest. As the hours passed in the dim candlelight, another presence quietly emerged. My father. He came through the veil of the ceremony, his voice tender and clear despite the complicated history we shared. “I love you,” he said, words that touched the deepest parts of me. Though in this lifetime he had struggled to show it, here, in this sacred space beyond time and form, his love was undeniable, unwavering.

This visitation felt like a soft reconciliation, a healing thread woven between us that transcended the pain, the silence, and the distance that had defined our relationship for so long. It was a reminder that love, even when hidden or withheld in life, can flow freely from other realms, an eternal current beyond the limits of human frailty.

The big Bear’s nurturing embrace and my father’s message lingered with me like a sacred offering. They were powerful symbols of healing and one grounded in earthly strength and protection, the other a tender whisper from beyond. Together, they created a space where I could breathe deeply, feel held, and begin to soften the hard edges of my past.

Calls to embrace my own resilience and open my heart to love’s quiet power, even in its most unexpected forms. The journey through pain toward healing is not solitary. I am accompanied, cradled, and loved by not just Bear, by my father’s and many other spirits, and by the medicine itself.

I thought it was all over now. But NO!! The vines of mother began to grow, slowly and deliberately, crawling up my legs like gentle, living tendrils reaching toward the sky. Their touch was cool and pulsing with life and that felt both grounding and elevating at once. These vines symbolized growth and connection, a natural unfolding of my spirit weaving itself into the greater web of life. Each inch they climbed was a reminder that transformation is a process, a dance between holding steady and reaching higher.

the same time, resting heavily on my feet, was a massive beetle. It gleamed in the faint candlelight, ancient and strong, an emblem of resilience and protection. The beetle’s presence at my feet anchored me, reminding me to stay rooted even as I soared into the realms of vision and spirit.

I WAS SOLD! It was probably up until that point in my life the most profound experience of my spiritual connection I had ever had.