What Ayahuasca Taught Me About Conflict (with a Whiteboard and a Wink)
How one unforgettable ceremony reshaped my relationship with truth, and how I help others integrate their own insights from the medicine
I’ll never forget this one night deep in the jungle. It was during my third ayahuasca retreat, sometime in the middle of my 12 ceremonies over two years. By this point, I had already worked with powerful intentions — around healing, clarity, self-love and grief. But on this particular night, I went in with something different.
I set my intention to heal my patterns with conflict — on all timelines.
A bold ask. And one I didn’t quite realize would go straight for my nervous system.
The Ceremony: Tight Chest, Twisted Gut, and a Clear Message
Not long after drinking the medicine, I began feeling it in my body. A deep, almost suffocating tension. Tightness in my chest. Pressure in my gut. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was intense. I knew it was related to conflict — how I hold it, avoid it, overthink it, embody it.
I sat with it, waiting for some kind of deeper insight to unfold, but it wasn’t coming in the usual way. I wasn’t getting visuals, just a tight, lingering unease. So I asked again — “Please show me how to work with conflict. Show me again. I’m listening.”
Then came the visual.
The Whiteboard from the Spirit World
A literal whiteboard appeared in my inner vision — just like something you’d find in a corporate training room. It was crystal clear.
It read:
Step 1: Speak your truth.
Step 2: → arrow pointing back up to Step 1
See Step 1.
I burst out laughing.
Even in the midst of ceremony, there was something undeniably funny about receiving a spiritual download in the form of a corporate-style visual aid. I remember thinking:
"Wow. How very corporate of Mother Ayahuasca."
But the simplicity of the message hit hard. It wasn’t flashy or cryptic. It was practical. Direct. And undeniable.
The Medicine Is 75% Sensation, 25% Vision
One of my facilitators, Kasey, often says that 75% of the ayahuasca experience is felt in the body, and only about 25% is visual. That rang especially true for me that night.
The vision may have been brief, but my body held the full lesson. For hours, I sat with the discomfort of conflict — how I carry it physically, how I’ve stored it in places like my chest and stomach, and how much of my suffering comes from not speaking my truth clearly, kindly, and early.
The guidance I received wasn’t revolutionary in its wording. What was revolutionary was how deeply it landed.
Because sometimes in ceremony, the most common-sense messages finally stick.
Integration: How I Used the Message Over the Next Year
Over the months that followed, I kept that whiteboard in my mental back pocket.
Any time I felt myself edging into people-pleasing, avoidance, or over-explaining, I’d pause and remember:
Step 1: Speak your truth.
Step 2: See Step 1.
That became a kind of inner compass. I began setting boundaries more clearly. Saying what I meant. Owning my needs — gently, but honestly.
I also began to notice how many of my clients, especially those integrating plant medicine journeys, were tangled in the same loop: wanting to avoid conflict, protect others’ emotions, or stay silent in the name of "keeping the peace" — but ultimately creating more pain.
This Is the Work I Now Guide Others Through
As a clinical social worker, integration coach, and certified hypnosis and wellness practitioner, I support people in turning their ceremony insights into lasting change — not just breakthroughs in the jungle, but actual day-to-day shifts in how they communicate, relate, and show up in the world.
This story about the whiteboard — funny as it is — gets to the heart of so much of the integration process:
The body remembers what the mind tries to skip.
Speaking your truth is often the first (and only) real step.
Simplicity isn’t shallow. It’s where transformation begins.
If You’ve Received a Message That Stuck With You...
Whether you’ve worked with ayahuasca, another plant medicine, breathwork, or a dream you can’t shake, you’ve likely received guidance that was so obvious it felt almost funny. But that’s the power of insight: it lands where it’s needed most.
And sometimes, it comes with a wink and a whiteboard.
If you’re in the process of integrating a message like that — or wondering what to do with something that showed up in ceremony — I’d love to hear your story. I offer 1:1 support for those navigating the in-between space after ceremony, as well as downloadable hypnosis and wellness recordings that can support your journey.
Final Thoughts
Ayahuasca continues to meet me exactly where I am. And often, where I least expect.
That night’s ceremony taught me that conflict isn’t something I have to fear — it’s something I can move through, one honest truth at a time. And that even the most ancient plant teachers might still enjoy a little office humor.
✨ Let’s Stay Connected
If this story resonates with you, I’d love to hear how medicine work has shaped your path — or how you’re navigating conflict and communication post-ceremony.
Feel free to reach out or explore my integration services, Clinical hypnosis, or reach out to me to talk more.
