Yesterday, I experienced the most profound alteration of consciousness ever. Despite a predilection for mind-altering substances, I'd never had access to any of the full-on hallucinogens before. But it was something I felt compelled to pursue as much of my recent thinking and research has been pointing in this direction.
SubstanceThe chosen substance was the psilocybin-containing mushroom
stropharia cubensis, much beloved of the brothers McKenna. Available to purchase via spore-laden dried compost bricks, this effectively circumnavigates the grey legal area surrounding these innocent/potent fungi. I had decided to take them raw and fresh for the best effect. Research on
Erowid indicated that anything from 2 - 20 mushrooms was considered normal. A fortuitous blind spot prevented me from noting the word 'small' or remembering the recommended weight dosage of 5 - 50g. So I consumed four fair-sized specimens plus one attached baby. My guess, from weighing the remaining specimens, is that I was around 35 - 45g in dosage! I'd wanted a medium dose as I generally have a high tolerance to substances, but probably would have aimed lower if I'd been more careful. Oh, well... Difficult to eat raw, I tried one then chose to chop the remainder, mix with chopped kalamata olives and a little vinaigrette and the mini-salad was quite delicious!
SettingPerhaps the morning after a large pub-crawl was not theoretically ideal, but everything else was right so I just went for it. Eschewed the customary fry-up for a small bowl of porridge, the coffee for green tea. Read a little of 'The Invisible Landscape'. The weather was ice-cold, but bright. Waited till my partner had completed her morning tasks and set a fire. Lit an incense stick geared towards meditation and played a CD of whale sounds set in gentle ambient electronic music.
SetIn a way, this could be traced back to the whole gradual orientation towards a spiritual quest, but I shall start with what I consider the first real signal. One afternoon walk, we passed a couple of recently trampled fly agaric mushrooms. I was tempted to pick the caps for drying, but my partner expressed misgivings so I left them. Shortly after, I developed a headache, something I very rarely suffer from. So I set out to locate a source of psilocybin mushrooms. When they eventually arrived, I had an unexpected bonus of a second spore brick! The first flush was sporadic, but they shot up quickly. I captured them on camera. On an impulse, I loaded a filter set and applied the first one - the result is shown, clearly giving the 'green light'. So all this gave confidence that the experience would be good, and this 'set' - mindset - is so vital to any such experience. Finally, just before consumption, I set the mood by a small act of generosity.
The experienceAfter feeling a kind of odd light-headedness immediately after consumption, little happened for about 20 minutes. Then the smoke from the incense seemed particularly beautiful, like watching the birth and growth of a universe. Mushroom motifs appeared in the smoke. Then purples and blues became almost unbearably intense, and the fireplace tiles seemed to bulge. Looking at the large spiral design above the fireplace introduced the next round of visuals - the texture of the paint became pronounced then seemed to resolve into a kind of alphabet, which began dancing around the spiral. The whole then began to look very odd indeed, alien. A shift of perspective towards the window and I had the phrase 'candy store' float through my thoughts. It was like being a child let loose in a sweet shop, and there was a kind of '60s feeling. There was also a feeling of having been here before, either in substance or dreams. The first trip to the bathroom was very strange, it was a kingdom of ice, not actively hostile but indifferent. The walls bulged and the tiles began resolving into geometric vistas. My partner suggested a turn round the garden to see what the outside world was like. The sky was huge, and the relationship between objects strange, like old black and white 3D films made for viewing with red/green glasses. It was Alice in Wonderland, but it was cold and there was a hint of incipient danger, so I chose to return inside. Once more by the fire, the logs were silvery with beautiful patterns, and glowed around fractal arabesques. Behind, there was a kind of corridor of a wonderful sumptuous regency green, and the addition of new logs hardly seemed to disturb the view. Different music was essayed - classical remained rather aloof from the proceedings, dance seemed to provoke a visible unease, so it was back to the whales which had really begun to orchestrate the whole experience. Whilst the open-eye visuals were obviously attractive, there came a time when it seemed necessary to shut the eyes to go deeper. Here were more geometric vistas of white embossed tiles, stretching to infinity, pure white admitting cycles of colour slowly. I began to try to grasp at concepts but everything became slippery. Past and future were without meaning, here there was no time. Scenes from what would once have been described the recent past appeared as snapshots on paper, and lazily spiralled away. I was nothing, and I was everything at once. I was without identity, pure experience, experiencing itself, captured by the refrain which kept returning - "Who is it who is doing the experiencing?" I was witnessing the act of creation, the Implicate Order explicating itself in a kaleidoscopic living 3-way fractal basin boundary. I tried to grasp the concepts of 'before the trip' and 'after the trip', but they meant nothing, there was only the trip, this was the universe finally becoming self-aware, it had already happened and this was it, 2012 would never come, this was all there was now, I, who was having the trip, was no more, I was somewhere beyond time with everyone who has ever tripped, an image of Lennon floated past, how would I ever get out? I uttered the words "seamless reintegration" or some such, but I still couldn't believe it, I contained all possible futures, so nothing mattered, I understood truly the meaning of the word 'entheogen'. Reality became possible by surprising it before it slipped away, then it felt like an incoming tide, gently lapping at the shores of the trip, and then it reversed, the trip was a receding tide, leaving behind warm waves of unreality. Finally, I was able by an act of will to fully re-ground myself. I was ready - it had been the most profound experience of my life, but very demanding.
AfterwardsI seemed to exit fairly suddenly from such intensity, so I tried a little cannabis to extend the effects - mild, but nothing special. Alcohol, on the other hand, had a surprisingly large effect, causing ghost recurrences of the feeling of coming down, a kind of see-sawing of consciousness. I was left with a curious token of the trip - on removing my loosened neckwear and placing it on some books on a table, my hand encountered a small hard object. It was a strange dried dark-coloured bean, too small for red kidney, too large for aduki, and slightly mouldy-looking. This also seemed oddly familiar.
ThoughtsI had wanted to experience a decent trip, not just a few strange visuals, but this most definitely exceeded expectations. I have a feeling that something had guided me to this and ensured that I got just the right dose. It may be argued that all my experiences were just wish-fulfilment as they confirmed what I was already thinking. All I can say is that nothing prepares one for the actual experience of timelessness, or of actual universal unity, or of, effectively, being God. Nothing. Thoughts and words are a child's pencil-sketch of the great oil painting. Did my wish for experience provide that experience, or is it something independent? Does it matter? I'm not entirely sure, but what I am sure of is that, in the words of the Bard, "there are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio."
