Aya - put some respect on her name

ayahuasca vine illustration imt

*content warning* 

describes the use of nontraditional methods of treating trauma and the use of psychedelic substances. this article is meant to educate and not as a prescription.

by Lesley-Ann Brown

I’m not a sociologist, so I’m not fully equipped to interpret what it means when a person or thing becomes a punchline to a Chelsea Handler joke, but I am sure there are worse fates. Still, when I heard ayahuasca’s name come out of her mouth, I felt a need to speak up for it like you’d speak up to a bully picking on your best friend. Although, in all fairness to Handler, the joke was funny, this time. 

I’m using Chelsea Handler as an example here – because I know how problematic she can be. And the fact that I’m engaging with this name, is a testimony to the power of ayahuasca.  

Full disclosure: I’m one of those annoying folks who refer to ayahuasca as ‘Aya.’ But according to the South African Black Consciousness Scholar Simmi Dullay, ‘Aya’ is an ancient word that could mean many things. She explains, "it could mean mother, caregiver, a nurse even. So calling the plant by this name repositions the wisdom archetype of the crone, grandmother, and teacher.”  And in many ways, this is precisely what Aya has the potential to be. So, in my efforts to decenter humans and work on my speciesism, this is how I will refer to her for the rest of this piece.  Aya. 

Originally from South America, the concoction is usually composed of the ayahuasca vine (Banisteriopsis caapi), the chacruna leaf (Psychotria viridis), the charanga vine, and an assortment of other plants. “Ayahuasca” can refer to either the vine itself or the brew — of which the vine is one of the constituents. Preparing this brew is an hours-long affair. The chemical composition of the two plants provides the user with a psychedelic experience. The ayahuasca vine's hallucinogenic substance, dimethyltryptamine (DMT), is also secreted from our brains. But we can’t eat it because our stomach enzyme monoamine oxidase blocks its effects. So, somehow, a long time ago, folks learned to combine these plants just so their psychedelic properties could take effect. How did practitioners of the past know to combine these particular plants for this specific effect? 

Its effect induces hallucinations that include, but are not limited to, visitations from other beings, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, deep connection, and even enlightenment. There’s the other side as well — I know folks who have plummeted into the bowels of hell while on this stuff. It’s not for the faint of heart. The experience can be intense. 

The ayahuasca vine — which looks very much like its Latin name, a rope banister of sorts — along with its cohorts in herbal healing, is said to have been used for various aspects of recovery for millennia. This idea, however, has received a little pushback, with some suggesting that ayahuasca use may not be a ritual spanning back millennia but a new one, picked up by the people in a demonstration of how culture changes, updates, and accommodates. 

 Western science still cannot understand how this chemical concoction was figured out by the otherwise “primitive” folk of the Amazon. It continues to be baffled by Amazonians’ vast botanical knowledge, all of which they claim came from the plants themselves. To let you know just how real this is, the chemical compound we use for anesthesia today was borrowed from them (with no financial compensation). Their curare — an admixture of various plants in which they then dipped their darts — would paralyze their prey when hit. There are many different concoctions of this — each providing a specific type of paralysis that the hunter may wish for their game. This would later revolutionize medical anesthesia. 

The plants, they said, told them in a dream. 

For the record, Aya came through for me during a difficult period. And while it is true that this ceremony has been co-opted and abused many times over, as well as reports of over-harvesting the plants involved – there are sustainable ways to obtain it and respectfully participate in the ceremony. I don’t think, however, that Aya is for everyone. I’m not telling you to do Aya.  Do your research. I am merely attempting to restore the rightfully dignified position that she deserves. 

My first and last encounter (one was enough!) was in the Danish countryside with about twenty other participants. Like everyone else that evening, I had come to this ceremony for healing. Through the very nature of the ceremony, I was made aware that this healing process wasn’t just for me but was a collective endeavor as well.  That created a deep feeling of community for me. 

My ayahuasca experience was full of black panthers, floating angels, and great feelings of universal love. I felt a strong sense of connectedness with all around me. I also cried for a large portion of the eight-hour journey and, in the process, rid my body of many tears I was meant to shed. 

There’s ample evidence from various scholarly reports that ayahuasca can assist our species in reconnecting with ourselves, each other, and the natural world around us. It has had and continues to have success in treating addiction and trauma. A part of me holds space for the intelligence “nature” holds, an intelligence we humans may not always be privy to. There’s a saying that you can tell what people need through the wild plants growing around them.  For example, dandelions tend to grow in abundance in heavily polluted areas – a plant known for its detoxifying properties. I say all this because I do believe there is a reason there has been such an uptick in Aya’s use, even to the point where it has become mundane, the butt of a Chelsea Handler joke. But I ask, what better medicine could this world use as we sit amidst a mental health crisis exacerbated by the pandemic? What better treatment could I try in my desperation to find peace and balance in an inner/outer world that sometimes seems so off-kilter?  Again, Aya isn’t for everyone, but she has been and continues to be a great teacher for those who feel compelled to lean into some plant wisdom. 

I write more about this and other treatments/studies around trauma in my recently published book, Blackgirl On Mars. You can purchase here 

Blackgirl on Mars is a radical memoir that chronicles author, educator and activist Lesley-Ann Brown's two years' worth of travel searching for "home".

As she travels across the US during the Black Lives Matter protests and Covid-19 pandemic and then to Trinidad and Tobago to attend the funeral of her grandmother, Brown tells her own life-story, as well as writing about race, gender, sexuality, and education, and ideas of home, family and healing.

Both a radical political manifesto and a moving memoir about finding your place in the world, Blackgirl on Mars is about what it means to be a Black and Indigenous woman in Europe and the Americas in the twenty-first century.