What I Learned From My Experience Receiving Kambo
KAMBO: Trigger Warning ⚠️ 🐸 ⚠️
I’m about to get really vulnerable.
I understand this will be taken however it is meant to, and whoever needs to receive this will hopefully receive it in light. Maybe I’m oversharing, but it feels important to be honest.
This summer has been a real healing journey.
With my first major publication birthed into the world in May, I’ve wanted to take the last few months to journey inward, and take inventory on the shadowy parts of my spirit that need deeper healing.
Putting yourself out to the world in a public way is a beautiful journey, and seeing your dreams come true is nothing short of humbling, awe-inspiring and surreal. But, it’s also (in my humble opinion) a big push to check yourself, and make sure you’re fully living the process, and embodying your practice as the best possible version of yourself.
Having explant surgery in March, going to therapy, cultivating a better practice of mindfulness, meditation and “self”-awareness, trying so desperately hard to practice forgiveness, taking profound healing journeys with entheogenic medicines.
Trying to be a better friend. Trying to be a better writer. Trying to be better. Period.
I’m nearing the end of the journeys I’ve intentionally embarked on. One of the final-stretch milestones being an experience with Kambo, sacred frog medicine (not to be confused with Bufo, the sacred toad).
My experience with Kambo was gentle, mildly purgative, but revelatory nonetheless. The most interesting part being the synchronicity of where these dots were placed.
In my research, it seems that traditionally men will receive Kambo on their arms, while women receive it on their legs.
When making the choice to where I wanted to receive the medicine, I thought the left forearm was a proper choice, because my intention was to heal the feminine aspects of my consciousness.
It wasn’t until after the fact, I noticed where the burns had landed.
A few years ago I got into such an awful fight with a former partner, that in my hysteria I cut myself, because I didn’t want to feel the emotional trauma that situation triggered.
The scars are so light, only I know they are there.
The burn marks were placed right above the scars.
Fresh wounds on top of an old wound. New wounds to heal over a wound that has yet to heal. 5 dots on top of 7-year-old lines. Fire to fire.
Funny timing. The wound has re-opened as this person still haunts my dreams, and is a looming shadow in my premonitions.
What does it mean?
I wish I had an answer.
What did I receive from receiving Kambo?
I wish I had an answer.
What have I received from this journey I’m on?
I still don’t have the answer.
But, I do know one thing.
Healing isn’t linear, and the tessellations of time are pieces of a puzzle that’s still being put together.
The spaces between the pieces fit into place once the mind can make sense of the patterns, and the forms of our thoughts.
Transmuting fire into creativity, transforming pain into wisdom. Sight from insight.
Perspective from new perceptions.