Psychedelic story spotlight: Wachuma
my first ritual with this conscious shifting plant medicine cactus
I get a lot of questions about entheogenic or psychedelic medicine. People asking me about my experiences, general education for mental health conditions or guiding them to practitioners/medicines. After every ritual, no matter the medicine, I record my thoughts. I have transcribed my first ritual with Wachuma, also known as Huachuma or San Pedro cactus, in Terra Mirim in early July. I feel comfortable sharing certain revelations to help guide people and document my own experiences.
Please note, everyone’s experience will be different. My experience will not be yours. Some are pleasant with faeries, flowers and candy, some are intense with shadow work and darkness. All are part of the journey to find oneness with the universe and yourself. Also, when I say “he”, Wachuma is a masculine medicine, with the pronoun he being used to describe him. If you have any other questions about this or any other psychedelic/entheogenic medicine, please reach out.
June 2023. I came into the ritual quite airy and happy, singing songs to myself and skipping around. I felt excited to journey with my new sister Asha. It was just a small intimate group of us, ready to dive in with no fears. I set my intention for strength and self love.
It took much longer than any other medicine I have had to kick in - must have been two hours, but with the complete time distortion, who really knows. But, through the process, I know I stayed very present.
We started our long mescaline journey in the Pachamama temple, which is located behind the earth temple. I felt like I had trouble fully concentrating on what our shaman guides, Catalina and Aurora, were saying. Instead, I just let the Portuguese roll over my head. I mean, I tend to zone out in life a lot anyways, daydreaming about far off lands and replaying scenarios in my head. So, when our guides told us some exercises to do, I was just so focused on other things like picking flowers and putting them in my hair or singing old folk songs. Specifically, I was focused on how cool and amazing nature was. In particular, I kept focusing on this one large dark purple mushroom sprouting up between the twisting roots.
So, I decided to climb a tree to get a better view. Once up there, I was able to hear the exercise everyone was engaging in - feeling into their animal. Instantly, I knew I was a chipmunk, which is my spirit animal, joyously bouncing around and keeping a distance with a clever, keen view. I also noticed a childlike wonder gazing down at the understory of the forest from the canopy I was perched on.
From here, as we beeline walked to the earth temple, I suddenly noticed the earth was glowing. Shimmering like I was in a mystical dream like state. I had some sort of synesthesia, feeling the sound of the trees rustling in the wind. Euphoria and true ego loss kicked in from here. I acknowledged a stark difference from my DMT experiences, as this was not as visual, but more wavy and enhanced. Grounded in feeling like I was a feather in the wind. I just felt completely connected to everything, oneness. Suddenly, I looked to the side of me, and the group was starting to build a fire to prepare for our cabana ritual.
But, I was pulled from the scene, like Daffy Duck being pulled off stage with a giant cane, back to Pachamama temple. Classic me veering off and going on my own little adventures. I just knew…I had to find that mushroom again.
When I ran back, it was like the world was filled with fungi, talking to me from every angle. All I could see was mushroom mania!
It was funny, because usually I really only notice plants, but this time, they were blurred in the background. Here were the fungus, clear as day, needing a wooded word with me. I made my way back to the large purple mushroom and it was quick to start a conversation.
“You know you are a voice for us too, right? Not just plants.”
I sighed and responded,
“Come on! I can’t be a voice for so many things, it is too much.” And yes I am fully aware if a normal person outside of this shamanic community found me I would look insane talking to a giant mushroom.
The mushroom answered with quiet, calm wisdom,
“Well, for now, you don’t have to be a full voice, but you at least need to notice us. Realize you have a deep connection and just don’t rule us out of your work.”
We continued out chatter until I heard some laughing down by the group building the fire. So, I thanked the mushroom and skipped off.
When I got back to the group, I felt this instant guilt that I should be helping. I mean, I know how to build fires, so why wouldn’t I be helping - how selfish of me.
But, quickly I realized…I didn’t WANT to fucking help with the fire.
Why would I try to force myself to help like I always do? Why does it always come with this feeling of guilt that if I don’t do something, I am lazy, selfish or not helpful? It’s like I always have to help in life, but sometimes I just want to be left alone. I wanted to just gaze at mushrooms and gob about how beautiful nature is.
As the fire began heating up the stones for the cabana, we all left for the water temple. The guides led us in an activity staring into a partner’s eyes. Reading their soul was an understatement. I was partnered with shaman, and later very close friend, Aurora. After some time, she said to me,
“You know, it’s okay to feel sadness about things that have happened to you in life.”
It was like she knew me so well already. Reading my pain and what I was holding back to remain happy go-lucky Molly to everyone. But, I wasn’t ready to enter that stage of grief yet.
From here, we went over the river, through the forest, just a couple of feet to the temple of the ancestors. Pure joy. That would describe our time there. We all stripped down nude, went swimming in the river, painted mud all over our bodies, danced in the mix of rain and sun and giggled like giddy school children.
I remember just feeling like I was so high, but also not. It was just such a unique experience to anything I had had thus far in my 28 years. Like I could process things in my life with joy and pleasure. One thing was gazing at my friend Asha and thinking, Wow she is so beautiful. So, why couldn’t I say that to myself and for some reason always feel I am less attractive?
In that moment, I remembered a conversation I had with my friend earlier. She was a model and stunningly beautiful. When she told me she was abused just like me, my instant reaction to myself was, well I am not as pretty as her, so my abuse couldn’t have been as bad. Yes, I know that is just how fucked up my body dysmorphia was. But, in this instant, I realized that is not true and I finally wanted to get a handle on my body dysmorphia and stop thinking such negative thoughts to myself.
As we walked back to the fire, I was reminded once again to being present with the earth, enjoying being dirty and wet, throwing my herb printed white dress on and off while smearing mud all over myself. And, the stones were finally ready for the cabana (sweat lodge).
Now, my mood dropped because I don’t like enclosed hot spaces. Naturally, I was the last one in the sweat lodge. Turned out, it was as easy as pie - I actually could have turned the dial of heat up for once. Never let fears rule you.
Inside, people were releasing terrible noises, sounds like animals dying and you cannot escape. People sweating, nude on the bare earth with no where to go. It isn’t pleasant, but it does the trick for healing. I blocked everyone out and just breathed quietly. Discomfort started to rise and I suddenly felt the sadness Aurora has described.
And so, I cried. I cried for all the hurt and pain I had experienced but never released. I cried for lack of self love I have been able to give myself. I cried when Asha put her hand on mine and gave me a cuddle to let me know she was there. And then, everything was soft and quiet. It was suddenly dark outside, as I didn’t even realize nighttime had crept in.
We all congregated and started our sharing circle. We ate soup and fruit while everyone shared their experiences, with the shamans giving their astute feedback. Thank god for my dear friend Tui translating it all for me, as I felt so high and relaxed it was tough to concentrate.
After I finished my share, Aurora began her observations. She pointed out that most people don’t connect as deeply as I did to Wachuma during their first ritual. Apparently, talking to fungi in that way is very rare and she really wanted me to explore the idea to look at the lessons from fungi, not for my work, but for my personal life.
And she is right! Look at how fungi grow, reproduce, survive and interact with the world. They are so strong, even consume dead matter, but in these inconspicuous ways. They keep the entire ecosystem flowing in good health and help other organisms communicate with one another. They are quite incredible organisms.
She ended with saying that Wachuma may be my soul medicine, my true connection.
Catalina wanted to talk about my share about realizing how tired I am and unsure about going into the Amazon. She told me listen to my exhaustion and hear its roots. Like I have boundaries, but don’t listen to them to push myself to extreme limits. She told me not to force myself to go to Acre and instead listen to what my body needed at this moment.
And my dreams that night were as vivid as I had ever had.
The next day, I felt like I was still in it slightly. Things had a slight tint to them and I noticed deeper conversations were materializing with friends. It was the first day I had given myself proper space to be nothing.
However, I realized that I wanted to dive deeper into Wachuma. Learn more about the roots of this medicine in South America and be at the forefront of this forgotten psychedelic medicine’s journey as he makes his way into the public eye. Hopefully I can help encourage proper ritual and sustainability before he takes the world by storm like ayahuasca.
But, most importantly, I realized I had been searching for him my entire life. He reminded me of how much I missed the joy or purely loving Earth. But, the worst thing about Wachuma? Being too dazed to realize I was being eaten alive by mosquitoes.
