The Spiritual Retreat That May Have Changed My Life

Near the town of Puerto Escondido on the Mexican Pacific coast, there is an ecolodge called Barbarenas. A month ago I messaged them about a yoga retreat I had found online. I received this response: “We are hosting an ayahuasca retreat from the 25th of February until the 1st of March, would be great having you in this unique experience.”

I figured, why the hell not! And I sent my deposit.

I think most people who sign up for a spiritual retreat do so because they have important questions that they are seeking guidance or clarity on. But I did it because… well, because it was a new thing to try. I like novelty, and I’ve never been to a spiritual retreat, so I decided that I was gonna do it for the plot.

What I wound up experiencing went so far beyond my naïve expectations. I faced my fears, I cried my eyes out, I was moved by raw feelings of awe the likes of which I haven’t experienced in years. And I came away with an intention to change my at-home practices, to bring more of this kind of joy to my daily life.

Anyway, let me give you a play by play of this retreat.

On arrival, I met Jade: the organizer of the retreat, and a person who radiates genuine kindness. She gave me a tour of the lodge, then deposited me in front of the pool, which is more like a pond maintained by an eco-filtration system. Guests from the previous week’s retreat were sincerely hugging each other and saying their goodbyes. Staff members greeted each other like old, lost friends. I was immediately intrigued, and surprisingly uncomfortable, with the level of warmth and intimacy that was emanating from every direction.

Over the first couple of days of the retreat, my fish-out-of-water feelings continued to intensify. My typical social norms did not translate to the “spiritual retreat” environment, and I was so unsure of how to relate to people in that context. What do you say to a shaman, for example? Is it okay to crack jokes? Can you still talk about the mundane? I found myself frequently hiding out in my room.

The retreat also included physical discomforts (e.g., mosquitos and heat), and a lack of certain creature comforts (e.g., AC, hot water, soft seating), which were all starting to get to me. Most importantly, we were on a very bland diet in preparation to receive the ayahausca. No caffeine or alcohol (obviously), but also no animal products or byproducts, salt, sugar, oil, or wheat. Our meals consisted of fruits and unseasoned vegetables, oats, and rice.

Grumpy, hungry, and covered in bug bites, I started wondering why I had signed up for this retreat when I could instead be drinking beer by a pool somewhere. But then, the ayahuasca ceremony happened.

Our shaman, Ino, met with us the day before the ceremony both as a group and individually, to see how we were feeling and answer our questions. On the day of, we all fasted for most of the day. Yoga mats and blankets were carefully arranged under the neem tree. Before the ceremony, we had a sound circle in which we sang lullabies from each other’s childhoods. Then, Jade played her handpan for us as the sun set. Ino gave us each the ayahuasca with love and gratitude. We set our intentions, drank the plant juice, closed our eyes and waited for the medicine to take hold.

I’ve taken psychoactive substances before, but never with intention and ritual behind them. I don’t know if ayahuasca is unique, or if it’s all the preparation and care that made the difference, or both. But this was a qualitatively different experience from anything else I’ve tried.

After undergoing some initial unpleasantness (google ayahuasca for details), I reached a point where I felt nothing but love and safety surrounding me, like a child in the arms of a parent. The ayahuasca, combined with the positive environment that the healers created for us, gave me this feeling of unconditional love. And with that came an incredible state of detached acceptance. It was as though I had just undergone 10 therapy sessions, or maybe as though I had meditated for 10 hours straight. I was able to reflect on my past behaviors and feelings without judgment, and reach new insights about myself. I didn’t have a particularly strong “trip” – no visions or hallucinations – but what I did experience was nothing short of profound.

After the ayahuasca ceremony, I started to see the rest of the retreat in a completely different light. Each source of discomfort felt like a chance to test myself and push myself. I wanted to reset my hedonic treadmill so that I could more easily experience pleasure in small things. Each social interaction felt like an opportunity for authentic connection. I sincerely wanted to work toward personal growth and positive change.

Two days after the ceremony, our group went dolphin watching at sunrise. Jade played her handpan for us as the sun came up – the same song she played for us at the ceremony – and I was so overcome with awe that I started crying. And then I just kept crying. Later on, I watched a video of the song that one of my group members took, and cried some more. I’ve spent so much time and money flying to far-off places, climbing mountains and paddling oceans, all in search of that kind of peak positive experience. As it turns out, my most powerful emotional response from all my travels was evoked not by a stunning location or extreme activity, but by a kind, loving person playing her instrument for me.

On the last day of the retreat, two of our other spiritual leaders, Shaira and Salvador, led us in a Temezcal (A Mexican sweat lodge ceremony). They had already led one Temezacal a few days prior, but unfortunately I had panicked and bolted before the ceremony began. This time, I was determined to face my fear of cramped, dark, hot spaces and receive the medicine that was being offered. The rest of the group was so kind, offering me words of encouragement (“at any point, you can hold my hand” – thank you Roos!) and advice (“it helps to touch the stones at the back because they are cool” – thank you Julie!). Together, we chanted, we reflected, we endured extreme heat, and we let go of things that are no longer serving us. And this time, I made it all the way to the end.

It’s been a few days now since the retreat ended. I’m still trying to work out what, exactly, just happened. Whatever the changes were, they weren’t drastic – it’s not like I’ve altered my belief system, or my plans for the future. Will this wind up merely being an intense one-time experience? Or, will it set me on a different course in terms of how I approach my goals and my relationships? Will this retreat become a fun story at parties, as I had originally intended? Or, am I actually on my way to becoming a more compassionate, mindful, spiritual person? Only the following months and years will tell. I have a feeling the answer depends on me.