Solstice Day
A short story
by Erkut Gultekin
Colombia
My mother told me that when I was a child, around 4-5 years of age I think, I was afraid of my own shadow. I had no idea what this could have meant, symbolically speaking, until recently when I attended a solstice day ceremony. Believe it or not, this was a shamanic ceremony. Where all of the participants drank a brew named ayahuasca. Sacred to some, psychedelic to others.
This ceremony was with four other people, five if you count the shaman. Upon arrival, the ceremony was opened with a candle. Its light lasted for more than eight hours, which was the time of the ceremony. Wax dripped down the candle. As the fire was burning, a beautiful spectacle. The other participants were not strangers to me. Two of them friends I’ve made travelling, one of them my lover. Also encountered while travelling.
A year later, still together now as I’m writing. She might be the one for me. Someone I see myself growing old with. This, among other things, was made clear to me during the ayahuasca ceremony. What else, I hear you the reader think. Before I zoom into that, I’d like to stress the importance of creating music together.
During such ceremony, the participants led by the shaman, each play an instrument. And suddenly their togetherness creates a harmony that sets the tone of the ceremony and lasts during the
entire ceremony. And it’s then when the shaman, I called him shaman until now but will from now on, in this story at least, call him grandpa. Because he himself didn’t like it when he was being called a shaman.
Nor does his image fit into that of a shaman. Not wearing so called sacred ornaments or makebelieve jewelry. Someone who doesn’t organize ceremonies to make money. But rather does it to heal. Not even that, according to himself. The healing is done by ayahuasca, mother of all plants. Grandpa is merely our guide. Someone with experience and wisdom whom we all trust.
We trust him because before drinking the brew that he prepared with his own hands, a process that takes a very long time. From asking permission to mother nature, to harvesting the roots of the sacred tree that grows for decades and decades in grandpa’s garden. To cooking, for hours and hours. And more hours. And when the harmony of the ceremony has been successfully set, grandpa offers us to drink the brew.
Only if you’re truly feeling ready, you should drink. There’s no shame in changing your mind, grandpa assures. Before drinking the brew, we’ve met grandpa two times. On the first occasion we prepared and ate lunch together. Getting to know each other. Why have we come to him? What are we
seeking? What do e want to learn about ourselves and the journey that is called life? Have we prepared well, meaning no alcohol, drugs, cigarettes and sex for the past week? Eating a vegetable-based diet with preferably no meat or poultry.
On the second occasion, we talked and talked. Got to know this down-to-earth man who lives a simple life with his wife and dog. Told about ourselves, too. Only about what we felt comfortable telling. He made clear that we should try to have no expectations of the ceremony. To come with an open mind. Not expect to have epic hallucinations as some of the “ayahuasca-tourists” do. Because ayahuasca will not show you things that are not there.
Those who have such experiences, unfortunately are being tricked by fake shamans who only do it for the money. Mixing their brews with other plants and substances that create such effects. Someone who truly has a shamanic ancestral history, will never offer such brew. For it’s confusing for one’s mind and even dangerous for the ones who drink. When we said goodbye after this second encounter, the trust bond had been created.
The brew has a dark brown color. A very sweet taste and a thick texture. Almost like a very
strong tasting, very sweet maple syrup. A taste that will stay in your system for much later. Even now, as I’m writing of this experience, its taste is so clear in my memory. And whenever I eat or drink something with a similar taste, it takes me back. We drank the brew from small bowls. With a glass of water. And believe me when I say this, one glass of water is not enough. The taste is just too strong, too powerful.
Once you get it in, the next challenge is to keep it in for as long as possible. And if it doesn’t come out in the form of vomit, it will come out in a different way. Vomiting and diarrhea are very common during ayahuasca ceremonies. I cried of happiness when I first vomited. Because just until that very moment, madre ayahuasca was showing me that each of us has a shadow. A shade of dark. And that this darkness feeds on negativity such as jealousy, greed and rage. And it even showed me that we all possess an inner demon. And that it’s all about balance. It was about then that I stood up, because I was laying down on my back with my eyes closed until then. A vision flashed before me and showed me my inner demon. I was facing him.
And standing up suddenly, I ran out of the maloca. Which was the sacred ceremonial place where the ceremony took place. Greeted by my friend R., who also just had finished vomiting. And it’s fair to
say that up until now, my twenty nine years of existence, this was the most emotional, most wholesome, most satisfying vomiting process of my life. Tears of happiness. And looking down on my vomit, I noticed parasites moving in the brown liquid that came out of my system.
I did vomit on two more occasions during the ceremony. Had diarrhea too. Will not go into those details now. Only wanted to add that even now, a year later, the parasites I visioned in my vomit I believe were those negative energies I was talking about. Because with every time that the medicine, madre ayahuasca, did its work and left my body, I felt happier and happier. And I suddenly realized that I shouldn’t be afraid of my own shadow anymore. But embrace it instead, as a part of me.
When I laid myself on my back again, eyes closed, this time madre ayahuasca showed me my inner light. And that this source of light comes from the love that I received from my parents ever since I left my mother’s womb. An unconditional type of love. And how blessed I truly was growing up with my parents and siblings. How proud I should be of them. And how blessed I am to be surrounded by people that I love and that love me. Family, friends and colleagues. And that in reality, we’re all beings of love. For love resides in all of us. Some of us are out of balance,
unfortunately. And have their darkness stronger than their light due to past traumas. Due to a lack of love. And that what connects all of us, is love. Powerful enough to heal each and every one of us. At a certain moment, during this ceremony, when I was playing the tambor I remember. I was watching the earth. It was dancing, pulsating with the sounds that we were making.
This was the very first vision I had, even before the balance of darkness and light. Before I laid my back down, eyes closed, breathing in and out. This very first vision showed me a tiger and a snake. I had kept this vision to myself, buried in my subconsciousness. When grandpa closed the ceremony, which was done by spiritually cleansing each participant, we sat in a circle. And grandpa told us how his ayahuasca, his brew, was the brew of the tiger, the snake and hummingbird. A memory flashed me by of watching my partner, then a hummingbird flying around a tree in the green garden of grandpa that surrounded the maloca.
I had seen all three of these animals. Madre ayahuasca also showed me all of my past relationships and that I should be grateful for every single one of them, no matter how bitter their aftertaste. The mighty medicine showed me the lectures that these past relationships had given me. The lessons that I was taught, albeit
sometimes in a hard way. Gratefulness is necessary.
I can go on and on about my experience. Sacred to some, psychedelic to others. It showed me a colleague who recently had lost her daughter. A colleague I’ve learnt a lot from. A true coach. It showed me two friends of mine who were coping with alcoholism and drug abuse. It showed me my father who has an overweight problem. One last thing I’d like to write here, is that my father had called me a day after the ceremony. In this video call he told me how he urgently had to lose weight. Out of the blue.
Finally, once the ceremony was closed, we had a fruit salad consisting of the pieces of fruit that each participant had contributed. I first wasn’t able to eat much because I had a vision as I was watching a group of condors flying in circles in the big blue sky above. And as I was watching them, I became one of them. Watching myself from far above. As free as ever, roaming the earth from the blue skies.
After this vision had ended, I returned to the table again where everyone was still eating and talking of their individual experiences. I partook in the conversation as I continued eating my fruit salad. A fruit salad so tasty, juicy and fresh that I could’ve sworn that this bowl hadn’t been
prepared here by us but descended from heaven. I continued to eat light after the day of the ceremony. Felt very confident about myself and my journey that is life. Grateful for the ceremony and the beautiful people I was surrounded with. Grateful for life.