There’s a certain type of person – let’s call him a Soul-Searching Chad – who books a flight to Peru with a Patagonia duffel and the hope of ‘purging his trauma.’ They just got out of a toxic situationship or a WeWork meltdown and now they’re standing barefoot in the Amazon, trying to get spiritually uppercutted by a vine that’s older than capitalism.
They call it a “ceremony.” But let’s be honest, it’s a $3,000 ayahuasca bender led by someone named Jonathan who used to DJ in Ibiza and now calls himself a “light facilitator.”
Welcome to the new era of spiritual tourism, where wealthy Westerners eat, pray, and projectile vomit their way to enlightenment and Indigenous traditions get flattened, sold off, and rebranded as psychedelic healing packages.
Ayahuasca as Fast-Tracked Salvation for the Spiritually Bankrupt
Let’s start with the obvious: Ayahuasca is not a trend. It’s a sacred medicine used for centuries by Indigenous peoples across the Amazon basin. It was never meant to be your psychedelic reset button, or some kind of cosmic startup incubator for your inner child.
But that’s how it’s being sold now.
You get a white-cushioned Airbnb in the jungle, a translator named “Luis” who speaks three words of Quechua, and a “shaman” in a linen poncho who’s charging $700 a night to watch you cry about your ex while puking into a plastic bucket.
Meanwhile, you’re microdosing the vine of the soul like it’s turmeric in your Erewhon smoothie.
The Meme Economy of Misery
Let’s not pretend this isn’t hilarious. The visuals are gold.
- A hedge fund bro seeing a panther made of sound.
- A yoga influencer writing “downloads” in her Notes app while wearing $120 Lululemon leggings in the jungle.
- People who’ve never been to therapy now claim to be trauma-informed because a celestial serpent whispered their shadow work plan.
The people who once rolled their eyes at anything “woo-woo,” are now burning Palo Santo like it’s a rent payment and teaching breathwork on Instagram Live.
The meme writes itself. But the consequences don’t.
The Dark Side of the Vine: Erasure, Exploitation, and Etsy Shamans
Behind the Instagram testimonials and glossy retreat sites lies a quiet cultural exorcism. Indigenous shamans are being priced out of their own ceremonies. Tour companies run by foreigners are pushing locals aside to market “authenticity” after pushing out the Indigenous communities who made it sacred in the first place.
Then there’s the new “shamans”, usually men, vibing way too hard, offering “medicine journeys” in luxury yurts, with no formal training beyond a few trips of their own.
Some of these so-called facilitators are dangerous. There have been deaths. Assaults. Psychological breakdowns. And still, the demand grows.
Because the more this industry commodifies the sacred, the more disconnected it becomes from the deep, slow, communal wisdom it came from. What was once ceremony is now content. What was once reverence is now revenue.
Neo-Colonial Mysticism: Same Extractive Shit, New Branding
Let’s be real. This isn’t new. It’s just colonialism with better PR.
- Land was taken.
- Resources were extracted.
- Now it’s the intangible stuff: culture, rituals, spiritual technologies.
It’s no longer enough to steal minerals or oil. Now we’re siphoning cosmic medicine from the very people our systems destroyed, turning it into white-washed soul rehabs for the burned-out elite.
And when the trip’s over? These people fly home, post a soft-focus selfie with a caption about “being humbled by the medicine,” and then launch a Substack about plant-based wisdom while the tribes who created this practice fight for land rights and food sovereignty.
What Would Decolonial Healing Look Like?
To be clear: this isn’t about gatekeeping healing. Ayahuasca, when done ethically and respectfully, can be profoundly transformative. But it cannot be divorced from the people and the context it comes from.
A decolonial approach to this medicine would mean:
- Supporting Indigenous-run retreats.
- Redistributing wealth, not extracting more.
- Understanding that you don’t have to consume a culture to learn from it.
- Slowing the fuck down. Ayahuasca is not a spiritual DoorDash. You’re not owed insight just because you booked a flight.
Hear Me Out: You’re Not Being Called to the Jungle, You’re Being Sold
If you’re spending five grand on a trip to the rainforest, ask yourself: Is it the medicine calling you, or is it the algorithm?
Because Ayahuasca doesn’t need marketing, she’s not interested in your rebrand. She doesn’t care about your personal growth funnel.
She’s a force that predates nations, flags, and every name we’ve given to land that was never ours. She’ll show you the truth, yes, but she might also show you how full of shit you are.
So if you’re gonna go, go with humility. Go with gratitude, not expectation. And maybe (just maybe) don’t post about it right after. Let your ego purge, too.