usually underreport what they drink. Alcoholism is a progressive disease, and if this young woman had kept up her rate of consumption, we can only imagine where she’d be fifteen or twenty years down the road.
Others mentioned a similar shift in perspective. One thirty-four-year-old man said, “After doing ayahuasca, I feel that alcohol is a poison.” A forty-four-year-old woman explained that she drinks “less alcohol now. It’s as if my body wants to stay clean.” This spontaneous change in attitude toward alcohol reminds me of the hypnotherapy approach to changing behavior, in which someone imagines something disgusting about the behavior, like fat clogging arteries when eating French fries or filthy ashtrays when reaching for a cigarette. In the case of ayahuasca, some people spontaneously began to view alcohol in a negative light. It’s this effortless change in perception and behavior that’s the unique hallmark of ayahuasca. The changes are not a result of white-knuckle self-control but of an internal shift that seems to happen organically.
People describe this shift in a variety of ways, but the pattern is clear: “I can hardly drink now.” “Alcohol is not appealing anymore.” “I used to drink too much alcohol. I do not enjoy it since meeting Grandmother Ayahuasca.” “I have more awareness around abuse of alcohol, so I drink less.” “No desire for alcohol.”
A client of mine, a forty-six-year-old man, stopped drinking after his first ayahuasca experience. Previously, he’d been on a clear path to alcoholism. After one ceremony he didn’t even have a drink when he went out to dinner. It wasn’t that he insisted on abstinence; he just preferred not drinking. Frankly, I had trouble believing this was real, and I talked about it with my friend, psychiatrist Bob Rosenthal, copresident of the Foundation for Inner Peace, the publisher of A Course in Miracles (www.acim.org). His response was, “With spirit, all things are possible.” For me of little faith, I figured I’d wait and see. Seven years later, as of the writing of this book, the man was still not drinking.
Not everyone enjoys this kind of miraculous turnaround. A thirty-four-year-old businesswoman said, “Alcohol is much reduced, although it is still my biggest vice. For one month before and after a ceremony, I never want it.” A forty-seven-year-old executive wrote, “Shortly after [a ceremony], I used less alcohol. This did not last.” Perhaps these people are still in process and will eventually lose any desire for alcohol. Maybe for some people, it just takes longer even with the help of ayahuasca.
The responses regarding marijuana use are complex. Some people feel that marijuana connects them to ayahuasca. A forty-seven-year-old man said, “Ayahuasca told me that marijuana was an ally of mine. I’ve had a slight increase in use.” Another man said, “When I smoke marijuana, I go back to the sacred feeling I have with ayahuasca.” A thirty-five-year-old woman said, “When I use marijuana, I feel the presence of ayahuasca.”
I had a disturbing experience with marijuana three days after a ceremony. I was meeting friends, and marijuana was available. I took one small toke. Within twenty minutes, I realized I was too high. That one toke seemed to mix with whatever ayahuasca remained in my system from the recent ceremony, and it rekindled an altered state of consciousness, catching me totally by surprise. I’d never had such a strong reaction to just one hit of marijuana before in my life. My friends drove me home, helped me get settled, and left. But I was far from settled. The marijuana didn’t exactly take me back to the sacred ceremony, but it certainly took me out of this world. What eventually saved me were hours of Monty Python, which I found on a cable station. Eventually, I went to sleep and was fine the next morning. Upon reflection, I would say this was not a fun or useful altered state — no psychological insights, no spiritual epiphanies, no spontaneous healing. Just hours of Monty Python.
Contrary to my experiences, a few people reported using marijuana in a ceremonial way. A forty-two-year-old woman wrote, “It must be a plant spirit in its own right, and I’ve taken two intentional journeys with it.” A twenty-nine-year-old man said, “Marijuana had a more powerful effect, so I stopped using it recreationally and only use it in more intentional [sacred] settings.”
In my study, twenty participants reported smoking less marijuana or stopping altogether in much the same way as people stopped drinking alcohol. “During my first ceremony, I became aware that I didn’t want alcohol or pot anymore, and this has easily sustained,” said a forty-year-old man. A thirty-one-year-old man wrote that, after six ceremonies, “I’ve quit smoking marijuana.”
For some people the change was more dramatic. A fifty-two-year-old man said he no longer smoked any marijuana: “I was more and more concerned for my lungs and ‘foggy’ mind in the days after using marijuana.” A twenty-three-year-old woman said, “Ayahuasca helped me heal my addiction to marijuana that was a burden for years.”
As mentioned, this was a very sophisticated group when it came to psychedelic drugs. Two people said that after taking ayahuasca they increased their use of other psychedelics. A twenty-four-year-old woman said, “Ayahuasca set a new bar in terms of defining what I’m looking to get out of psychedelic use.” Seven people said they reduced their use or didn’t take anything other than ayahuasca. A few people expressed feelings of loyalty to Grandmother Ayahuasca in the sense that they wouldn’t stray or “cheat” on her. A sixty-year-old man put it this way: “After ayahuasca, I don’t want to use other drugs. They seem superfluous.”
The Intentions of Participants
When asked about their intentions to drink ayahuasca, most people said they were seeking psychological and spiritual healing. Psychological intentions referenced healing childhood wounds, emotional cleansing, opening one’s heart, personal learning, self-knowledge, and improvement. Spiritual intentions were more mystical; people described wanting to connect with their higher selves, the Divine, and other realities. Some said they were seeking knowledge and guidance, spiritual openings, or insights. Three were seeking medical help: one for Parkinson’s disease, one for cocaine addiction, and one for cancer. Three mentioned curiosity. The intentions of the participants in my study were similar to those of a group of fifteen ayahuasca tourists traveling to Peru studied by anthropologist Michael Winkelman.13 In Winkelman’s study, these so-called “drug tourists” said that they hoped for increased self-awareness, personal insights, and guidance in life as well as a deeper connection to nature and the spirit world.
The question about intentions is important for a few reasons. First of all, a person’s intentions are part of their “set,” or the personal history, beliefs, and expectations that they bring to an event. The concept of “set and setting” is frequently and erroneously attributed to Timothy Leary, but it was first used in the fifties by Alfred Hubbard.14 Our intentions are an attempt to focus the ayahuasca experience while at the same time knowing full well that we cannot control what comes up during a ceremony. Grandmother Ayahuasca evidently has a mind of her own and will inevitably overpower whatever our humble intentions were. Second, clarifying intentions is often considered essential for integrating the ayahuasca experience afterward. Writing down intentions allows the person to review later what they were thinking as they prepared for the ceremony and to reflect upon how their experience related to their original hopes. So much can happen during an ayahuasca-infused night that it can be challenging to sort out the experience. Written intentions function as the first bookend to a ceremony, in the sense of creating a minimal container for the often-overwhelming experience.
For example, in my study, some participants reported intentions that were quite specific, such as hoping to let go of entrenched patterns or asking for help to deal with the recent death of a mother. In these cases, the stated intentions function almost like a benchmark allowing the person to monitor how much they change in the weeks following the ceremony.
It’s interesting to note how people said their intentions changed over time. Of the three who had previously said they were curious, two realized that had been “a profane intention,” and they were now more interested in inner healing. Although people mentioned continuing their psychospiritual healing, they were more specific about deepening their relationship with Grandmother Ayahuasca. The intentions became more spiritual than psychological over time. One person said he would surrender to whatever the ceremony might bring, and others expressed a