Since 2003, I have studied and followed a path of Amazonian traditional medicine. It was during this time that I first came to the Peruvian Amazon, as a documentary filmmaker and closet lover of plants. I was contracted to shoot a piece on Amazonian shamanism. I spent two weeks living alone in a small open-aired hut in the jungle. I drank plants, medicinally and ceremonially. I talked to the shaman, I watched him work. I shot some footage. At one point during this process, I had a very strong plant ceremony.

I left the jungle feeling uncentered and unsure. A friend took me to see another shaman, a tobaquero, one who heals with the spirit of the tobacco. I sat in a chair in the middle of his one-room shack. He packed the pipe, prayed over the tobacco, sang an icaro (medicine song) into the pipe’s bowl and began to smoke. He exhaled the smoke on my head, chest, hands and feet. After the healing was over, he brought a large black river stone out and gave it to me. I asked him what I should do with it. He told me to keep it on my chest. I paid him 10 soles, thanked him and left.

Three days later, I fell off a horse I was riding along a mountain path, 18,000 feet in the Andes. My left ankle was smashed from the impact. I rode the horse back down and slowly made my way to a hospital. This was a distinctive moment in my life.

After my surgery, several orthopedic specialists told me that I might never walk again. I was 25 years old. I began taking medicinal plants from the Amazon in the hope of healing myself and dove deeply into the world of Amazonian shamanism. From this experience, my new path was forged. I attribute a good part of my healing, if not entirely, to the master plants I took during my recuperation. I have since fully recovered and returned to the Amazon many times to gather plants.