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n3m3sis43I wake before the rooster crows.
Relishing the stillness and the slight chill in the air, I snuggle underneath my thin blanket. My cat, Maui, presses his warm body closer to mine. I stroke his soft fur, and he lets out a small, contented sigh. Despite my fitful, fragmented sleep, I also feel content this morning.
I feel ready to receive the medicine, as Paola calls it.
We begin at 11. I’m thankful I spent so much of yesterday preparing. I went to the market, stocking the tiny cabin with fresh fruits and vegetables. Following Paola’s instructions, I made the the cacao water I’ll drink before the ceremony. The lime water I’ll mix with the medicine. The soup I’ll eat tomorrow so I don’t have to leave the cabin if I don’t feel up to it.
For now, all I have to do is relax and enjoy the quiet.
# # #
It’s time for the ceremony.
I am freshly showered, dressed in light colors as Paola advised. It’s a change from my usual all-black garb, and there’s every chance I’ll stain my clothes with the turmeric in the lime water. But Paola says black absorbs energy and light, and light colors repel them.
I’m not entirely sure I understand what that means, but I’ll take her word for it.
She asks me if I’m ready to begin. I nod and begin preparing the medicine, my nose wrinkling at its pungent earthy smell as I mix it into the lime water. I put the mixture aside to steep.
Rain patters on the roof of the cabin. Paola tells me that’s auspicious. When it rains on the day of the ceremony, she says, the universe is cleansing you of energies you no longer need.
Paola guides me through arranging the four elements: a bowl of water, stones to represent earth, a candle for fire, and a feather for air. She offers a blessing to the four elements, asking them to aid me on my journey, and leads me in a brief meditation.
The time has come.
“Hold the medicine to your chest,” Paola says. “Thank it and then whisper your intentions.”
My stomach clenches as I swallow the first sip. I expect it to taste of death, but the lime water has done its job and I drink it down with surprisingly little trouble.
“Would it be okay if I pull some cards for you?” Paola asks me.
It would be more than okay. I read tarot myself, though not particularly well.
“What are we working on in this ceremony?” she asks.
Reconciliation, the first card answers. When you conciliate, you truly move forward. Accept that you are in a period of reconciliation, where you can truly continue to move forward in your life.
That resonates; I am fragmented, disconnected from my inner selves. I hope to rectify that.
The second card is Participation. I’m sure Paola explains its meaning too, but it doesn’t fully register because the brightly colored curtains in the cabin have started breathing. Already?
“Do you have any questions for the cards?”
“Um.” I fumble for words. “What do I need to move forward?”
Infinite Possibilities. You are a being with infinite possibilities. Believe it.
Easier said than done, especially after all I’ve been through over the past years, but noted.
“What’s holding me back?” I blurt.
Abundance. Change.
It’s increasingly difficult to focus on the cards, because the curtains are melting before my eyes, their patterns swirling as if alive. I’m asking a question, but I don’t hear my own words.
“You might be afraid to change,” Paola says.
Afraid to change? Me All I’ve done over the past decade and a half is change.
But tears prick at my eyes, and my heart aches. I know she speaks the truth.
# # #
I am fighting the medicine.
My body is overcome with exhaustion, with a skin-crawling cold that comes from within. And yet my mind feels clear, my soul empty. Even the music Paola has carefully curated for the occasion feels grating and somehow sinister. The ceremony has only just begun, but I fear I am missing the point of it all. Where is the connection to my inner selves? Where is my insight?
I huddle underneath my blanket, shivering.
If only I’d been more diligent in my practice. Months of meditation – but I could have done more! Supplements. A special diet I could have followed better. All for nothing, if I fail to find answers.
“Try to cover your eyes,” Paola says. “Sometimes that helps to feel the medicine more.”
I do, but I’m plagued by unsettling visions. Seething, swirling monsters, or perhaps demons.
Despair bubbling up within me, I tear off the blindfold.
I am wasting this experience.
“How can I be afraid to change?” I ask, out of nowhere. “I’ve changed so much already.”
“It was only my interpretation of the card,” Paola says. “I could be wrong.”
I shake my head, swallowing back despondence like bile. “That’s the problem. You were right, I can feel it. But I don’t understand. If I’m not ready to change by now, how will I ever be?”
The question hangs heavy in the air.
“Do you want me to read you the meaning of the Change card?” she asks.
Life repeats itself mindlessly – unless you become mindful, it will go on repeating like a wheel. It moves like a wheel: birth is followed by death; death is followed by birth; love is followed by hate; hate is followed by love; success is followed by failure; failure is followed by success.
If you can watch just for a few days, you will see a pattern emerging – a wheel pattern.
Once you see the pattern, you can get out of it.
There is more, but the curtains might as well be on fire, and I lose track of the words.
“Did that help?” Paola asks when she’s finished.
I’m not sure if it did, but something has shifted.
My soul feels new, unburdened. The music swells within me, permeating my entire being with warmth and light. It’s as though I have suddenly learned to breathe underwater.
Adjusting the cushions beneath me, I lie back. As if summoned by the change in my demeanor, Maui emerges from his sleep in the other room, jumping up to settle on my legs. The rain drums on the roof of the cabin. I am safe, held by the forest around it. I am utterly at peace.
I pull up the blindfold again, and this time the visions are transplendent.
Author's note: This piece is based on a psychedelic therapy session I experienced over the weekend.
Relishing the stillness and the slight chill in the air, I snuggle underneath my thin blanket. My cat, Maui, presses his warm body closer to mine. I stroke his soft fur, and he lets out a small, contented sigh. Despite my fitful, fragmented sleep, I also feel content this morning.
I feel ready to receive the medicine, as Paola calls it.
We begin at 11. I’m thankful I spent so much of yesterday preparing. I went to the market, stocking the tiny cabin with fresh fruits and vegetables. Following Paola’s instructions, I made the the cacao water I’ll drink before the ceremony. The lime water I’ll mix with the medicine. The soup I’ll eat tomorrow so I don’t have to leave the cabin if I don’t feel up to it.
For now, all I have to do is relax and enjoy the quiet.
# # #
It’s time for the ceremony.
I am freshly showered, dressed in light colors as Paola advised. It’s a change from my usual all-black garb, and there’s every chance I’ll stain my clothes with the turmeric in the lime water. But Paola says black absorbs energy and light, and light colors repel them.
I’m not entirely sure I understand what that means, but I’ll take her word for it.
She asks me if I’m ready to begin. I nod and begin preparing the medicine, my nose wrinkling at its pungent earthy smell as I mix it into the lime water. I put the mixture aside to steep.
Rain patters on the roof of the cabin. Paola tells me that’s auspicious. When it rains on the day of the ceremony, she says, the universe is cleansing you of energies you no longer need.
Paola guides me through arranging the four elements: a bowl of water, stones to represent earth, a candle for fire, and a feather for air. She offers a blessing to the four elements, asking them to aid me on my journey, and leads me in a brief meditation.
The time has come.
“Hold the medicine to your chest,” Paola says. “Thank it and then whisper your intentions.”
My stomach clenches as I swallow the first sip. I expect it to taste of death, but the lime water has done its job and I drink it down with surprisingly little trouble.
“Would it be okay if I pull some cards for you?” Paola asks me.
It would be more than okay. I read tarot myself, though not particularly well.
“What are we working on in this ceremony?” she asks.
Reconciliation, the first card answers. When you conciliate, you truly move forward. Accept that you are in a period of reconciliation, where you can truly continue to move forward in your life.
That resonates; I am fragmented, disconnected from my inner selves. I hope to rectify that.
The second card is Participation. I’m sure Paola explains its meaning too, but it doesn’t fully register because the brightly colored curtains in the cabin have started breathing. Already?
“Do you have any questions for the cards?”
“Um.” I fumble for words. “What do I need to move forward?”
Infinite Possibilities. You are a being with infinite possibilities. Believe it.
Easier said than done, especially after all I’ve been through over the past years, but noted.
“What’s holding me back?” I blurt.
Abundance. Change.
It’s increasingly difficult to focus on the cards, because the curtains are melting before my eyes, their patterns swirling as if alive. I’m asking a question, but I don’t hear my own words.
“You might be afraid to change,” Paola says.
Afraid to change? Me All I’ve done over the past decade and a half is change.
But tears prick at my eyes, and my heart aches. I know she speaks the truth.
# # #
I am fighting the medicine.
My body is overcome with exhaustion, with a skin-crawling cold that comes from within. And yet my mind feels clear, my soul empty. Even the music Paola has carefully curated for the occasion feels grating and somehow sinister. The ceremony has only just begun, but I fear I am missing the point of it all. Where is the connection to my inner selves? Where is my insight?
I huddle underneath my blanket, shivering.
If only I’d been more diligent in my practice. Months of meditation – but I could have done more! Supplements. A special diet I could have followed better. All for nothing, if I fail to find answers.
“Try to cover your eyes,” Paola says. “Sometimes that helps to feel the medicine more.”
I do, but I’m plagued by unsettling visions. Seething, swirling monsters, or perhaps demons.
Despair bubbling up within me, I tear off the blindfold.
I am wasting this experience.
“How can I be afraid to change?” I ask, out of nowhere. “I’ve changed so much already.”
“It was only my interpretation of the card,” Paola says. “I could be wrong.”
I shake my head, swallowing back despondence like bile. “That’s the problem. You were right, I can feel it. But I don’t understand. If I’m not ready to change by now, how will I ever be?”
The question hangs heavy in the air.
“Do you want me to read you the meaning of the Change card?” she asks.
Life repeats itself mindlessly – unless you become mindful, it will go on repeating like a wheel. It moves like a wheel: birth is followed by death; death is followed by birth; love is followed by hate; hate is followed by love; success is followed by failure; failure is followed by success.
If you can watch just for a few days, you will see a pattern emerging – a wheel pattern.
Once you see the pattern, you can get out of it.
There is more, but the curtains might as well be on fire, and I lose track of the words.
“Did that help?” Paola asks when she’s finished.
I’m not sure if it did, but something has shifted.
My soul feels new, unburdened. The music swells within me, permeating my entire being with warmth and light. It’s as though I have suddenly learned to breathe underwater.
Adjusting the cushions beneath me, I lie back. As if summoned by the change in my demeanor, Maui emerges from his sleep in the other room, jumping up to settle on my legs. The rain drums on the roof of the cabin. I am safe, held by the forest around it. I am utterly at peace.
I pull up the blindfold again, and this time the visions are transplendent.
Author's note: This piece is based on a psychedelic therapy session I experienced over the weekend.
no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 04:11 pm (UTC)Also, I love that Maui was with you. He's so dumb.
no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 04:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 04:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 04:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 05:15 pm (UTC)I love this because it illustrates not only the cycle of life but also the cycle within ourselves: Nothing is static. Everyone changes whether we realize it or not. Or, as my mother used to say, "This, too, shall pass." I hated that saying because it sounded so unsympathetic but now I realize it's not. You've gone through so much these past few years and you're still standing even though you may not feel like you are. But you are, my friend <3
no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 06:18 pm (UTC)And then the shift at the end felt so much more meaningful because it wasn’t forced. There isn’t a perfectly articulated answer to everything; you’re not even sure the explanation of the Change card helped, but suddenly, something is different. The contrast between fighting everything earlier and then simply lying back with Maui on your legs, listening to the rain, feeling safe and peaceful was beautiful.
I also loved Maui, bookending the whole experience. 😂 You begin the morning with this warm little cat pressed against you, go through this enormous internal journey, and when you finally reach that place of calm, Maui basically goes, “Excellent, my services are required,” and settles on your legs. Maybe *he* was the medicine all along. ❤️
no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 06:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 08:09 pm (UTC)As a person who has tried this (and who really did NOT do well, bizarrely; I'm so open to these experiences, but my body and mind, alas, did not want to cooperate and my blood pressure skyrocketed), it was really interesting to hear another side to the experience. The telling of this tale is very lyrical and strong, and the Change card coming into play makes a great deal of sense. The dialogue that follows that feels so very realistic and true:
“You might be afraid to change,” Paola says.
Afraid to change? Me All I’ve done over the past decade and a half is change.
But tears prick at my eyes, and my heart aches. I know she speaks the truth.
I think we can change, can grow... and can still be afraid of it sometimes. If the only constant is change, isn't that scary in some way?
This is gorgeously written, and I'm glad it ended in such a beautiful and powerful way. Excellent work. <3
no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-09-23 02:23 am (UTC)I'm quite interested in the whole process of a psychedlic therapy session and all of the elements (earth, water, fire and air) involved throughout it!
The feeling I get is a matter of getting in touch with a level of sensibility that most people either ignore or may not even realize is there because it's just below the surface of what they see. And that's a little tragic but also plays up how close we all are to our best selves, if we can find our way and do the work.
Thanks for the insights.
no subject
Date: 2026-09-23 10:37 pm (UTC)And it's hard, isn't it? SO hard, and with all you've done, being asked to continue doing it feels like it will never be enough. When do you get to stop?
I would be SO afraid to try this kind of therapy myself. I hope it helps!
no subject
Date: 2026-09-24 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-09-24 10:41 pm (UTC)I really resonate with this line of yours: " I am fragmented, disconnected from my inner selves. I hope to rectify that."
It's quite a learning process, to not just change, but to allow yourself to not totally reject "past you," but to realize who you were is part of who you are.
I hope you find peace on your life journey. Thank you for sharing your process :)
no subject
Date: 2026-09-25 01:25 am (UTC)The wisdom of change/meaning of the change card imparted here is particularly meaningful for me tonight and I am trying to sit back and observe a pattern I've seen and felt before, which is hard to withstand. But to remember that the wheel keeps turning. ♥
no subject
Date: 2026-09-25 09:07 pm (UTC)It sounds like it was a very useful experience for you, though, in the end.
no subject
Date: 2026-09-26 05:15 pm (UTC)I'm not sure I could ever try it - I feel like my fear of a bad trip would lead to a bad trip. lol
Well written though!
no subject
Date: 2026-09-27 02:57 am (UTC)Damn straight, we're all afraid to change! But, usually kicking and screaming, life pulls us through the change anyway.
I enjoyed this.
Dan