A couple months back a strong intuition came directing me to “return to ayahuasca instead of attending Burning Man.” That same day an email came announcing ayahuasca ceremonies concurrent with the first weekend of Burning Man. Trusting the message, I signed up for that weekend, which was this past weekend, and I canceled the low-income Burning Man ticket I was awarded. The ceremonies ended on Sunday and I’ve been solo camping in the redwoods for a few days.

I found my first experience with ayahuasca, which was a few months back now, to be extraordinarily transformative and life-giving. I absolutely understand why I hear some folks describe it as “10 years of therapy in one night.” It was also, however, the most difficult and harrowing adventure I have ever experienced—by far, by far. Needless to say I was very scared going into this weekend. In fact, I was much more scared than before my first time.

My fear was so high the first night that I only took a little of the medicine and I made a vow that no matter what happened, and even if nothing happened at all, I wouldn’t get up to get more. I had a very, very mellow evening, and it served to build my courage for the following evening.

The next day, I took a more regular amount of the medicine and settled in. It came on very slowly and I am very thankful I didn’t get up to receive more as the experience peaked some three hours in. Though it was mellow at first, it began to become very intense again. I became increasingly nervous that it was “happening again” and I was bordering on asking for assistance from one of the helpers.

It started to become clear that the night was picking up where the last weekend left off. At the previous weekend I healed traumas stemming from infancy. I had re-paved unhealthy codependency with my mother with greater self-confidence and self-fortitude. I left feeling like I’d finally cut the energetic umbilical cord between me and my parents. I felt fully independent of, and differentiated from, my parents. It was a very powerful weekend.

As the second ceremony of this past weekend became more difficult, I found myself a child once again and grieving for my unresolved emotions from that period. A time came when I truly became very scared again, and right then, most likely through intuitiveness, a helper came to me. For several minutes the helper shook a large fresh bunch of mint about me, misted me with beautiful smells, fanned me with a bird’s wing, and soothed me. It was very grounding.

After she left, the fear peaked again, I held my face with the palm of my hands, and for the first time I found within me the strength to manage the overwhelming fear. The fear began to drain from my body. I came to the sudden realization that I had entered manhood and that it was time to say goodbye to the boy who I had been and who still lived within me.

My dear, sweet boy—how I fell so deeply in love with him that night. I saw his heart, his innocence, his deep ability to love, and his deep desire to receive love. I wept for him for a long time. I told him I loved him. I thanked him from my core. I saw how he’d given me everything that I am today. I thanked him and I thanked him and I thanked him. And then he left.

The most miraculous things happened after reaching manhood. All the fear I had been carrying through the whole weekend left my body through the souls of my feet. It left just like water leaves the bathtub when the plug is pulled. In its absence I found courage, power, and confidence. As the night continued, and as waves of fear would sweep through, I continued to find within myself new inner resources I’ve never experienced before. It was magical. With a simple, but powerful focus on my breath, I watched as fear retreated from my body, time and again, as if intimidated by my new inner-strength.

Unlike the first weekend, which left me feeling blissed out for days, this time I left feeling grounded and integrated. I feel stable. I feel grown. I feel courageous.