What Wachuma Taught Me
Sitting with Wachuma, the fire, and the truth of being a father
My First Wachuma: Heart Medicine and the Mandala of Fire
I’ve sat with a few different medicines, but Wachuma hit differently. It didn’t take me out of my body - it brought me deeper into it. Into my heart. Into clarity. Into a kind of quiet truth I didn’t know I needed. This is the story of my first ceremony, what I learned, and what opened up for me along the way.
I didn’t find Wachuma - Wachuma found me.
It started with my friend Jen. We’d sat in ayahuasca ceremonies together before, and when she invited me to a Wachuma ceremony in Homestead, Florida, I trusted her instinct. The location turned out to be a recognized ayahuasca church: Santo Daime - a sprawling sanctuary with a giant maloca, a serene pond, and a 40-foot stone Buddha lying across a waterfall wall. Already, the space felt like it was humming with something ancient.
The ceremony was guided by a medicine man - an Israeli former commando turned healer. His presence was calm but firm, like someone who had walked through fire and learned how to carry water. He stood in stark contrast to his past, and as an Arab man myself, it meant something that I now call him a brother. Healing happens in unexpected ways.
“Let’s adore one another, before there is no more of us.”
- Rumi
Structure of the Day
The day began early. We arrived at 8 a.m. and drank the medicine by 9. From there, we were in ceremony until 1 in the morning. Wachuma isn’t like other psychedelics. It’s not about visuals or ego-death. It’s subtle, steady, heart-centered. It opens you without overwhelming you. You stay present, in your body, feeling more real than altered.
There’s a rhythm to the day. First: silence. After the first dose, we were told to wander the land - no talking, just presence. Journal, rest, be. After a couple of hours, a whistle sounded and we gathered again.
That’s when the teachings began.
“Let’s meet each other with a smile, while the smile is the beginning of love.”
- Rumi
Wachuma: The Name, The Meaning
Wa: to find meaning or purpose
Chu: the great mystery
Ma: the mother
Wachuma - to find meaning through the great mystery and the mother.
He broke it down slowly, like a poem meant to be lived rather than read.
The Fire and the Mandala
The altar was more than symbolic. It was a map of power. The maloca was anchored by a fire at one end and the shaman at the other. In between: a giant mandala shaped like a chakana (an Incan symbol of spiritual alignment and cosmic order). No one crossed the center line between the fire and the medicine man. You had to walk around - always - because energy, like intention, needs to move with care.
The fire itself wasn’t just for warmth - it was the source of power. The wood had to point in a certain direction. The firekeeper treated it like a living thing. And in that space, everything meant something.
“Let us be like two falling stars in the day sky. Let no one know of our sublime beauty.”
- Rumi
Teachings and Laws
Throughout the day, between doses of medicine and offerings of tobacco, we received teachings. Not rules - teachings. Things you feel more than memorize.
The Five Laws of Creation:
I Am – You are already whole. There's nothing to earn, only to remember.
All is One – What you do for yourself, you do for all.
You Get What You Give – No victims. No blame. Just practice.
Time and Space Are Illusions – Everything is now.
Everything Changes – Except for the laws themselves.
Then came the Eightfold Path. Then came the prayers. Then came mambé.
A Moment Alone
Mambé is a green powder made from coca leaf. It’s used not for stimulation, but for clarity - to organize your thoughts and sweeten your words.
It was after my first full mouthful of mambé that something clicked open.
I was sitting alone, away from the group, in silence. Heart cracked wide, I thought of my daughter. I saw her not just as my child, but as a kind of miracle - a soul who entered the world in an unexpected way, through an unexpected story. And yet it was all perfect. She was perfect. Her mother - perfect for her. And me - I am the perfect father for her. No matter how complicated things may be between her parents, this child came through exactly as she was meant to.
That realization - that every piece of my life, even the hard parts, had led to this beautiful little being - brought me to tears. Wachuma doesn’t give you hallucinations. It gives you heart truths. And that one was mine.
“Let’s cherish the world through the eyes of a child, for only they see the truth of all things.”
-(Inspired by the tone of Rumi)
Rituals and Offerings
We prayed in layers. First for ourselves. Then for others. Then for forgiveness. Then for our ancestors. Then, to pay it forward.
Each prayer was physical. We wrapped tobacco in colored cloth, prayed into it, and placed it in the fire or the chakana. In the center, pitchers of water - the source of life - reflected the flames.
The chakana wasn’t just geometry. It was a spiritual code:
The left steps: condor, puma, snake
The right: upper, middle, and lower worlds
The center: Cusco - the navel of the world
Four points. Four codes:
Take care of yourself
Take care of your family
Take care of your community
Take care of your land
The shaman reminded us: alignment matters - thoughts, words, feelings, actions. Bring them together. Live with intention.
Final Thoughts
Wachuma didn’t blow the doors off my mind. It opened a window in my chest.
It reminded me that healing isn’t about spectacle. It’s about presence. It’s about seeing what’s already perfect and remembering how to be part of it - fully, fiercely, lovingly.
And it reminded me that effort is devotion. That prayer is not a wish - it’s a verb. And that sometimes, the greatest medicine is sitting under the sun, heart cracked open, realizing that life doesn’t need to be fixed. It needs to be felt.
“Let’s become a prayer on the lips of the earth.”
- Rumi