For me, there has always been this point within the Ayahuasca experiences where Grandmother renders me incapable as she holds me down with a force that induces submission in an oddly gratifying way. This time was no different. Even though I was more surrendered than not when she took me, I lost the option to either withdraw or continue my compliance. She simply forced it. She made me feel the darkness. Let me explain. Think about the thing about which you most hate to think. What does it make you feel? Dread? Fear? Regret? Guilt? Sorrow?
Now imagine that even though you forgot the reason, the thought, that made you feel that way, you still have to feel it.
That’s how it is for me with Grandmother Aya. She makes me stay with the dark feeling emotion. It’s about tolerating it and not running away from it. Under this part of her spell, I cannot think my way out of it. I can only feel my way through it. And that’s where I was after that second shot. Then I vomited again. After that, I was gradually brought up to not just ecstasy but to the ecstasy of all ecstasies. I was one with every feeling-emotion that was desirable.
It was more intense than ever before. I could hardly breathe deep enough to expand enough to contain it as it filled me up. I could take it only if I emitted the noise of pleasure with my heaving exhales. But even so, it was against my will, that those sounds of ecstasy escaped my lips. I could not stop them then anymore than I could back when Tyrone and I were a thing. No matter how much resentment I held against him in the beginning, once he pleasured me to a certain point, I lost control of my ability to suppress verbal expression. And this was like that.
I was aware of this and I felt deeply embarrassed.
Except for the first time, I always maintained dual awareness when I was with Grandmother. I knew which part was able to be perceived in the physical space around me and which part was perceivable only in the non-physical. If only I would’ve been an exhibitionist, the forced transparency would have been appreciated. My body had become a vessel for unconditional love like a cup full and overflowing. I felt the most satiated I had ever been. And so I spontaneously burst into worship.
I pleaded with love, “Take me. Own me! I want to be with you forever. I’m yours. You are what I want!”
And Love answered me so clearly. “But wait! You said you would never be owned. You even have your song about it, remember?” And with that, Love began to play my theme song, the one I endlessly played on repeat when I felt especially rebellious. “You don’t own me,” the lyrics blared. “No!” I insisted, “I don’t care. I want you to own me. Take me. I want you!” And so Love agreed and took my soul.
Above is the version by SayGrace, It is the one I listened to on repeat and the one which Love began playing for me. Below is Kyla Jade’s version. If I could change Kyla’s words to say, “Have me, own me,” instead of, “You don’t own me,” etc., her raw passion after the halfway mark would be a perfect representation of my own intensity while entreating Love to take me. The next part of this ceremony took an unexpected turn. Even so, it would be some time before I would understand how much that old familiar Scritpure was relevant to this Ayahuasca experience.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. ~ Psalm 23:5