The Sacred Path of Ayahuasca: A Call for Responsibility, Integrity, and Protection

By Teffa Honan | Pachamama Munai

Ayahuasca has been awakening hearts and guiding souls for generations—its roots deep in the ancestral lineages of the Amazon. In recent years, we’ve witnessed a growing wave of ceremonies being offered here in the United States. Many are being called to this sacred medicine, feeling the deep yearning for healing, remembrance, and reconnection with Spirit. This is a powerful time of awakening on Earth—but with this expansion also comes a great responsibility.

What is becoming increasingly concerning is the way in which this sacred plant is being served without proper preparation, protection, or training. Churches are being formed, facilitators are emerging, and ceremonies are being held by those who may not carry the necessary initiations, wisdom, or spiritual maturity required to truly serve Ayahuasca.

Ayahuasca is not a trend.
It is not a product.
It is not simply about drinking a cup.

It is a deep, sacred journey—one that opens the soul, dissolves illusions, awakens ancient memories, and initiates a spiritual and energetic cleansing unlike anything most have ever known. It is a form of spiritual surgery. And when that door is opened, everything matters: the songs, the silences, the intentions, the lineage, the preparation, and most importantly—the protection.

I have sat in many Ayahuasca ceremonies across the U.S.—some held with beautiful integrity by trained Taitas and elders, and others facilitated by individuals with good intentions but without the depth of understanding required to truly hold the space.

Years ago, I sat in a ceremony with someone who appeared confident and capable. But the space was not protected. The person facilitating the ceremony I attended had just returned from six months in the jungle. She was singing sacred songs and appeared to know the ways—but something was missing. There was no real presence, no grounded mastery of the space. She had not done the inner work herself.

From the outside, it looked like she could hold the medicine. But beneath the surface, the container was unstable. She hadn’t been initiated by an elder or walked through the fires of real apprenticeship. And the result was a space that felt more performative than sacred—more open than protected.

That night, my soul felt the consequences. The energy was unanchored. The prayers were missing. And that night, something deep in my psyche fractured. I left feeling disoriented and spiritually exposed.

The path of healing after that was not instant. I had to take a long pause from the medicine. I leaned into every practice I had cultivated—breathwork, meditation, grounding, movement, and prayer. I did the deep work to integrate and find my center again. It required months of commitment, humility, and trust in the healing process. Eventually, I returned to sit with my elder, Taita Pedro, who lovingly guided me back into alignment. His presence, his prayers, and the sacred container he created helped close the open doors, restore my soul’s protection, and remind me of the sacredness this path requires.

Since then, I’ve come to understand even more clearly that the medicine alone is not enough—it is how the medicine is held that determines the depth and safety of the healing.

At Pachamama Munai, we have received over 50 individuals over the years who came to us profoundly destabilized after drinking Ayahuasca in containers that were not properly held. Their minds fragmented, their spiritual fields left wide open, their nervous systems dysregulated. In many of these cases, they drank in environments that lacked grounding, preparation, and post-ceremony care. There was no elder, no lineage, no proper protection.

One woman in particular spent over a year working with us before she was ready to sit with the medicine again. Her first ceremony elsewhere left her traumatized. During her journey, someone touched her shoulder, pulling her out of a deep process and causing a kind of spiritual rupture. The space lacked a trained shaman, clear guidance, and an energetic closure. When she finally came to a properly held ceremony—with prayers, songs, grounding, and sacred structure—she was able to go deep. Her body released years of pain. Her knee, which had carried physical suffering for so long, found relief. And more importantly, her soul found peace.

These stories are not rare. And they remind us of what’s at stake.

We live in a time where access to medicine is increasing, but access without initiation is dangerous.

This is not written to shame, but to educate. To protect. To uplift the sacredness of this ancient path.

If you are someone considering drinking Ayahuasca, please ask yourself:

• Who is holding the ceremony?
• Where does the medicine come from?
• Who trained them?
• What lineage do they carry?
• What protection and integration are in place?
• Is the space anchored in sacred, humble prayer?

And if you are feeling called to serve Ayahuasca, please:

• Sit with elders.
• Be willing to wait.
• Walk the path humbly.
• Learn the songs. Learn the prayers. Learn the silence.

Serving this medicine is not about power or recognition. It is about becoming invisible in the service of Spirit. It is about protecting the sacred, not performing it.

We are in a time of great awakening—but if this expansion is not held in reverence, it can cause harm. May we honor this medicine and the Indigenous lineages that have protected it for generations by walking in truth, humility, and devotion.

May this message serve as a prayer for the safety of those seeking healing, for the restoration of sacred leadership, and for the remembrance of the true way.

With deep love and prayer,
Teffa Honan
Curandera | Ayahuasquera | Guardian of Sacred Spaces
Pachamama Munai Sacred Healing Church

Contact us!