Why I Wish I Had Integration After Ayahuasca
By Sarah, Creative Director & Yoga Teacher at Pacha Munay Wellness
Picture this: 22-year-old me, mentally hanging by a thread and somehow still functioning like a normal person (or at least pretending to). I had been battling depression since my teens, and let’s just say, life had already done a number on me. I even tried to take my own life when I was 20 years old. Yeah, it got that dark.
Fast forward a few years, and I stumbled upon Ayahuasca. I mean, when you’re already on antidepressants and still feel like life is a never-ending Monday, you’re open to pretty much anything, right? So when someone mentioned “Ayahuasca,” I thought, “Sure, let’s drink the psychedelic Kool-Aid. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Ayahuasca in Kentucky: Yes, Really
Now, most people envision the Amazon or some mystical place for their Ayahuasca journey. Not me. Nope. I did my ceremony in Kentucky. Think less “jungle shaman,” more “moonshine country”- it was literally in a trailer park. Have you ever seen Kentucky Ayahuasca on VICE? Yeah, I went there. But hey, it worked. I went in with the weight of the world on my shoulders and came out with a sense of freedom I hadn’t felt in years.
During the ceremony, I was hit with a message that was as clear as day: Your suffering is over. And for the first time, I believed it. Cue the emotional purge. I cried like a toddler who dropped their ice cream cone, but instead of wallowing, I felt this bizarre sense of peace. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t doomed to misery after all. I met so many amazing people, made lifelong connections, and felt like I had it all figured out.
Integration? Never Heard of It.
So, you’d think after such a mind-blowing, soul-shattering experience, I’d have the sense to take it slow, reflect, maybe even journal or meditate, right? Yeah, no. Instead, I hopped back into my kia forte and drove straight back to my regular life. Nothing like speeding down Bluegrass Parkway in Kentucky, with the remnants of a spiritual awakening buzzing in your brain, to really make you question your choices.
I had absolutely no idea what “integration” even meant back then. I figured once Ayahuasca had handed me the answer to life’s big questions, I was good to go. I mean, I literally got a message from the universe saying, Hey, you’re not broken anymore. What else could I need? Turns out: a lot.
Back to “Normal” Life (Whatever That Is)
The thing about Ayahuasca is, it’s not just a magical cure-all that fixes your life in one go. Sure, it opened me up, helped me shed years of emotional baggage, and gave me some solid answers. But the next day? I was back in the grind, navigating regular life like nothing had happened. Except, spoiler alert: everything had happened.
Returning to the same environment, without any tools to process or integrate what I’d experienced, felt like trying to hold water in my hands. All that insight just slipped through the cracks. I went back to work, back to the same old routine, and it was as if I was expecting my life to just magically align with this newfound peace. It didn’t. It was like running headfirst into a brick wall of reality.
Integration Is Not a Buzzword (It’s a Lifeline)
Looking back, I can’t believe I just drove home and carried on like I’d just been to a nice yoga class, not a literal spiritual overhaul. Integration isn’t just some trendy word people throw around; it’s the key to making sure your Ayahuasca experience actually sticks.
Without it, you're like that guy who buys a gym membership in January and never shows up again after the first week. The ceremony gives you insight; integration gives you the ability to actually live by that insight. And trust me, Ayahuasca will give you answers, but if you don’t take the time to process and ground yourself, it’s all too easy to fall back into the same patterns. The suffering might end, but that doesn’t mean you instantly know how to handle life’s curveballs without some help.
Pacha Munay's After-Ayahuasca Retreat: The Thing I Didn’t Know I Needed
So here’s where I shamelessly plug our after-Ayahuasca retreat at Pacha Munay Wellness. If I had known about this kind of thing back when I did my ceremony, I would’ve been the first to sign up. Instead, I drove home, clung to my newfound peace for about a week, and then slowly watched it evaporate under the pressures of day-to-day life.
At Pacha Munay, we’ve designed a retreat specifically for people who’ve gone through an Ayahuasca ceremony and need time to process. You’re not expected to just figure it all out on your own (trust me, that rarely works). Our retreat in the Sacred Valley gives you space to sit with your experience, reflect, and figure out how to actually implement the wisdom you gained.
I mean, what’s the point of having a massive spiritual breakthrough if you don’t even know how to apply it to your life? Here, we offer yoga, meditation, and sacred Andean practices to help you ground your experience and make sense of it. We’re not just here to help you feel good for a few days; we’re here to help you build a foundation so you can continue growing long after you’ve left the retreat.
Why You Should Come to Us After Ayahuasca
Let’s be real: Ayahuasca isn’t for the faint of heart. It opens you up, forces you to confront some deep stuff, and gives you a new perspective. But it’s the after part that really determines whether those breakthroughs stick around or fade away like that one New Year’s resolution you never kept.
So, if you’re planning an Ayahuasca journey (whether it’s in the Amazon or...Kentucky, no judgment), do yourself a favor and give yourself time to integrate. Come to Pacha Munay Wellness, let us take care of you, and learn how to actually live by those messages you received. You don’t want to just get answers—you want to use them.
Trust me, from someone who learned the hard way: skipping integration is like skipping dessert. Sure, you might think you’re fine without it, but deep down, you know you’re missing out on the best part.
Ready to make the most of your Ayahuasca journey? We’re ready for you at Pacha Munay.
