Part 3 Preparation for your First Experience
- nayature
- Dec 31, 2025
- 10 min read
Things to remember:
Enter the space with the humility of one arriving at the feet of something far older, wiser, and vaster than the mind can comprehend. The plants do not follow the timeline of the human ego, nor do they pander to our preferences or expectations. Their intelligence reaches into dimensions beyond our understanding, working delicately and powerfully through the layers of our being. Sometimes this work will feel radiant and full of grace; other times it will be raw, revealing, even disorienting. But there is generally a purpose behind it. These plants are not random. They are ancient physicians of the soul, uncoiling truth in a language only your deepest self can hear.
To allow the plants to unfold within you is to surrender control—not as a victim, but as a sacred participant in your own becoming. Let them whisper through your nervous system, through your cells and your dreams. Let them show you where you have armoured yourself. Let them point to what is ready to be removed. Trust that they know what they’re doing. Even if it makes no sense at first. Even if it takes months to understand. Even if it hurts.
You may find yourself weeping without knowing why. You may feel your heart crack open, as if years of silent pressure have finally been acknowledged. A tide of buried tears may rise up—tears from the child within, the mother within, the lover within, the ancestor within. Grief long buried may pour through you like a river—and then, just as swiftly, it may be followed by an overwhelming surge of peace and tenderness. A deep remembrance of love—not romantic love, but a cosmic, unconditional presence that lives in all things. The kind of love that speaks without words and knows you beyond form.
Crying is often experienced during the evening alongside bursts of feeling deep gratitude and love.
You may laugh through your tears. You may look around the room and see the strangers beside you as family, radiant and holy. You may feel thankful for everything—the pain, the healing, the path, the planet. This gratitude doesn’t always come from the mind. It bubbles up from the soul, from the knowing that somehow, you are exactly where you need to be. In that sacred container, surrounded by the unseen world, held by the plants and the spirit of Mother herself, you may find yourself whispering “thank you” without even knowing what for. And that is when you will know.
It is best that people try to keep talking to a minimum.
This is not to restrict you, but to honour the sacred silence that allows the medicine to truly speak. In the stillness, the subtle whispers of the plant spirits can be heard. When words are few, presence deepens. This is a space where your own consciousness is blossoming open, delicate, raw, and the energies of others can deeply affect your experience. The ceremony is not a social gathering. It is a temple, a portal. Each person present is undergoing a deeply personal and often vulnerable transformation, and that sacred work deserves protection.
Obviously, if you call for some help, someone will assist you and quietly whisper with you about how they can best accommodate your needs, but it is kept to a minimum level.
Support is always there. You are never alone. If something arises that feels too big to hold on your own. Know that the shaman’s role is to hold you with presence, tenderness, and skill. They will meet you in the quiet, in the space between your breath, helping you move through whatever is unfolding without disturbing the integrity of the room.
Talking and shouting out comments in ceremonies is unfair to other participants as it pulls people from their experience and is disrespectful and difficult for the team working alongside the shaman.
Think of the ceremony like a shared dream, a collective journey inward. One loud voice can ripple across the space like a stone thrown in a still lake, breaking the spell, disrupting the medicine’s flow. Many people are on the edge of breakthrough, in communion with their ancestors, receiving messages from within. Honour their silence. Guard the sacred container that you all share.
You are not there to perform your healing. You are not there to explain or justify or externalize what’s happening inside you. Emotions are sacred messengers. Pain is not your enemy—it is a doorway. Rage is not shameful—it is often grief in armour. Grief is not weakness—it is a holy release. Ask the plants and your higher self: What is it you are trying to show me here? What is it that lies beneath the wave. We call this riding the waves in the medicine world. You may be surprised at what rises when you sit with it instead of pushing it away.
You should not and your shaman should not promote that you release this with an extreme outburst of emotion straight into the room like screaming etc. This is completely unnecessary and is the ego wanting others to see your pain and sadness. Ceremony is not performance as mentioned. The work is not always about catharsis in volume—it is about truth in awareness. It is not about suppressing your feelings. But deeply honouring them. But the shaman will also want to protect the field of transformation for everyone. It is not about stiflingly you it is about filtering. Turning raw energy into revelation.
Holding a peaceful, love-filled, deep, insightful ceremony where people can feel safe to surrender and go deep inside themselves for clarity and to reconnect. Is also something that you need to be responsible for. Not just the shaman.
This is the foundation. For a great ceremony. Held with love and respect. No matter your background, your wounds, your beliefs, or your story—you are welcomed as sacred. Every participant is honoured as a unique expression of the divine, and every journey is treated with the reverence it deserves. The energy is held in a gentle, compassionate, and deeply nurturing way, allowing the plants to do their work in a field of unconditional acceptance.
Hopefully, the shaman you have chosen to work with has lots of experience and training with the plants. I myself had three teachers—one who lives here in England and one in Peru, whom I visited regularly—and the plants themselves.
This is not a path entered lightly. The shaman who holds this space would have walked through her or his own fires, endured the trials, the dietas, the initiations that mark the ancient road of apprenticeship. They continue to learn all the time, to humble themselves, and to deepen their connection to the sacred. My lineage is rooted both here in the West and in the Amazon. The lineage that I was privileged to receive was from the Shipibo. Who had at the time become my deepest mentors, allies, and family. It is with their blessing that I was able to hold space for others. I am a perfectionist. Still working on that one!! I liked to ensure that the level of peaceful journeying, care, and safety were at the highest possible level.
Everyone’s well-being—physically, emotionally, and spiritually—was my highest priority. Every element of the ceremony was intentionally designed to support participant’s inner voyage. From the music. To the healing songs (Sacred icaros). To the energy of the space, from the prayers whispered in silence and to the gentle support offered when needed. Everything down to the mattresses and covers to make the process as comfortable as possible. We would cradle the container of integrity, sacredness, and trust. We walk with them—quietly, reverently—holding the light as they explored their own inner landscapes.
I eventually went on to teach others the sacred teachings of the plants. It was then a calling. It was at the time my life’s devotion. Having walked the path of initiation, I felt I was able to offer my wisdom to others—those who felt he deep call to serve, to heal, and to carry this medicine with integrity. I did not just teach technique, but presence… The teachings were passed down to under six people. This was because —they had embodied, lived, and were continually unfolding through their own ongoing journeys with the plants. They showed their deep desire to serve and to hold space not through a sense of ego or power. As can be found much more these days. As it has become spiritually fashionable to be a shaman.
Most ceremonies begin with a small open share. This gentle gathering invites everyone to speak from the heart—sharing intentions, feelings, or questions. It is a moment to connect, to witness, and to prepare together as a group. Following this, they may offer blessings and prayers to honour the medicine, the spirits, and the sacred space you are about to enter.
Some may also offer Hapeh and Sananga drops. If you wish to know more about these medicines. They will be in the section of this book that explains about all the different plants spirits.
These additional plant medicines are part of the sacred tradition and serve as powerful tools for clearing, opening, and preparing your energetic field and vision. They can help clear blockages and sharpen your awareness, supporting a deeper and clearer connection with the ceremony itself. The same way that the dieta preparing you to sit with the medicine. It is not compulsory to take these.
Be honest with yourself and your sharing of intentions. Honesty creates trust and safety within the container. Sharing your truth—no matter how small or vulnerable—helps them to hold space for your unique journey and allows the medicine to meet you where you are. It also enables the team to best support and guide you throughout the night.
The medicine is alive, sentient, and speaks through the rhythms of the night. The Maestra listens deeply, sensing the right moment for the plants to enter your space. This is not a scheduled event but a sacred dance, unfolding in its own time and wisdom.
Being a first timer, the Maestra will often pour you a lower amount, as he or she will have no idea of your tolerance to the plants.
With respect and care, the Maestra offers just enough for your initiation—a gentle invitation into the medicine’s embrace. They can always let you have more during the ceremony if you need it, honouring your pace and your body’s signals.
You will be guided to relax on your bed, and the plants can take around 40 minutes to work, although it can take up to one and a half hours. For some.
Patience is part of the medicine’s teaching. Trust the unfolding—your journey will begin when the plants are ready to meet you, and the experience will be as unique as you are.
The shipibo play a selection of music to settle you into your journey, and in between the music, the shamans will sing sacred Icaro—story and healing songs—to guide the plants and help deepen your experience.
These beautiful, melodic songs carry the medicine’s energy, weaving protective and healing frequencies throughout the ceremony. Often accompanied by the steady rhythm of Chacapa rattles, the Icaros serve as a sacred thread connecting you to the plants, the spirits, and the sacred space.
As the ceremony unfolds, your body may begin to feel heavy, as if it is being gently held by the medicine. You may sense the plants moving inside you—shifting, aligning, and opening channels within your body and consciousness. This is a sacred sign. It is a good time to lie down, surrender fully, and allow the medicine to work with you deeply.
Ideally you will want to hold the medicine in for at least 40 minutes. Many people find this initial time important, allowing the plants to integrate and settle before the journey unfolds fully. Yet, the plants always work in their own perfect timing, so do not worry if you need to purge sooner. There is a good chance that during the day or evening you will purge at some point.
Purging is a natural, often cleansing part of the medicine’s process. It can come as vomiting, shaking, crying, or release of old energies and emotions. Having to go to the toilet often. However, purging is not essential—if you do not purge, it means the plants want to stay within you and work with you at a deep, subtle level. There is a saying that goes around all plant medicine communities. “Never trust a fart on ayahuasca.” “You are likely to shit your pants.” Another saying that is common. It is rare that you do not make it to the toilet in time. But it has happened to me and many others. Bringing spare clothing is a good idea. Often, assistants will support you in getting around—whether it’s helping you safely walk to the toilet and back or simply being nearby as you move. Walking under the influence of these plants can sometimes feel off-balance or unsteady, and a helping hand can make all the difference.
The Maestra or Maestro will offer second cups if you feel called to go deeper, or if you sense an inner urging to drink more. However, before receiving your second cup, you will be required to sit with them and make the conscious choice to walk over and collect your second dose. This intentional movement is important. Even if you feel the plants are not yet working strongly within you but find yourself unable to move, it means you do not need more.
Often, the Maestra or maestro will assess your energy and presence once you are before them, determining whether giving you more medicine will be truly beneficial. It is common for newcomers to believe that more is better—that additional doses will heighten the experience, making you feel “higher” or more blissful. But this is not the case. The medicine knows what you need better than your mind does.
The assistants and Maestra or Maestro will come around individually to offer you a gift of healing—singing, prayers, and love. This does not happen in some lineages. But with the Shipibo this was an integral part of the ceremony. This is a deeply personal blessing, guided by the plants themselves. Each healing is unique, tailored by the medicine’s wisdom and your needs at that moment. It is an expression of care and a channelling of healing energy to support your unfolding journey.
Maestra or Maestro will close the ceremony when they are guided to do so by the plants themselves. They do not work to a clock or schedule — instead, the ceremony unfolds in its own sacred timing, flowing naturally from beginning to end.
On average, the journey lasts around three to six hours, though during the experience, you will have no concept of time at all. The medicine moves you beyond ordinary awareness, carrying you through space and inner realms where minutes and hours lose meaning.
Just because Maestra or Maestro has closed the energies down does not mean the plants simply stop their work. Often, people will remain immersed in the experience for some time after the formal closing, their consciousness still entwined with the plants’ healing presence.
To honour this transition and celebrate your courage and new beginning, we will follow the ending of the ceremony with a food share—a nurturing moment to ground, connect, and honour yourself. This is generally soup or fruit and sometimes some fresh bread.
If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to email them or arrange a call with them ahead of time, or feel free to bring your queries directly to Maestra or Maestro when you arrive. It is also very helpful to talk with other drinkers when you arrive, who will be happy to share their experiences with you, easing your way and building connection.

You will feel extremely tired the next day; this is a natural part of the integration process. We strongly advise people to take the following time off work to catch up on rest and allow the body and soul to gently integrate the medicine’s work. it would be advisable for your healing and grounding.





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