My Iboga Experience.

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A little porcupine loved a tree. So much he decided to take a nibble. One day a hunter came along and decided the porcupine could help feed his family. When his wife tasted her fine porcupine stew, It gave her great visions. She took this to their elders who had another woman of the tribe partake. The tree bark that the little porcupine ingested was that of the Iboga. In her vision she was told, “I will show you your truth, and I will guide you”

11am… the morning after the all night ceremony.

my roomy, a beautiful sacred woman named Liz sleeps quietly in her bed. The house is silent. The man who led our ceremonies sleeps peacefully on the living room couch after having been up for more than 72 hours making sure we all returned safely from our exceptional IBOGA journeys.

What is Iboga? Plant medicine. A direct route to connecting with the spirit plant, our higher selves and the universe. A journey that takes courage.

The journey.

Nervous, we sat around the kitchen table sharing tales of how we got there. Liz and I had done Iboga before. Effortlessly moving through our original experiences we shared the beauty of what we saw. The visions and answers clear as day, the emotional water like movements of this medicine making us feel strong and guided. We both agreed that the following months brought vast changes in our lives. We hoped for the same this time around.

Even before drinking the tree bark tea, The air was thick and full with shaman, spirits, and energies that we could all sense.

At first, I saw animals gently and clearly passing through my vision…Then the cleanse began.

Iboga…can be a harsh, yet truthful ally. In order for truths to be revealed some had to purge. Our team of two were compassionate and loving. They dutifully went about their routine removing and cleaning buckets quickly for those releasing.

My questions were intense (go big or go home). I had moments of hate. I hated the people who brought the Medicine, my loving friend Luis, that Damn porcupine! …I just wanted it to stop, ”get this SH€% out of me!”. Then I saw the smiling face of the Bwiti spirit who was guiding my journey, then nausea, then I heard myself desperately squeak …”O god I take it all back, I love you guys….” thank heavens the red bucket I had become dependant on was near at hand.

They don’t play around…

Spirit wants the best for us. If asking for a lesson you will get it. Ego and control are enemies. Iboga is an exercise in trust, vulnerability and surrender. Each vision came with a physical response. I knew in order to get my answers I had to get rid of the old to make room for the new.

Others, like the sassy homeschool mom of 7 experienced this too. Some released once or twice. My friend Liz sailed through the whole experience like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower on a bright summers day!

Then I heard…this will be the last time…my body calmed and all the rest of my answers were given. I asked for friends, I asked about my family. I had meaningful crisp, clear, conversations!

The Morning bell awakened us to the next step of our adventure.

Slowly, we each went to our rooms. I watched as a couple who were taking this journey together trip eagerly up the stairs to share their stories like two children. I fell into a peaceful sleep.

Our beloved guide Luis was also our chef. The comforting aroma of a homemade brothy soup brought childhood memories, slowly coaxing me from my slumber. The quieted house, where just the night before spirits raced through the rooms, was still buzzing with energy that could be felt in the silent peace that now took its place…the soup hit the spot…I went back to bed.

Still feeling tinges of medicine, the late afternoon and evening brought laughter and talk of how spirits taught us, teased us and lovingly helped each of us to re-birth.

It felt like going away to a really tough wilderness overnight camp. We earned our courage and outdoor survival badges, have new life stories to tell, new friends, souls cleansed. Ready to move to the next level of this video game we call life!

6pm Sunday evening. I’m home.

Lying in my own bed, I look back at a singular moment of my final morning. We all sat listening to the song bird playing her guitar quietly in the corner, embracing each of our spirits in The warmth of her music and voice. I looked around at each person in the room. It was clear, we were all different now. I could see it in each face and each spirit. Iboga had done its job well…And so had we.

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