Citation: Tyke. "Complete Energetic Dissociation: An Experience with Mushrooms (exp32180)". Erowid.org. Apr 10, 2006. erowid.org/exp/32180
I honestly cannot say I would recommend this experience to everyone. This is not for the faint of heart. It’s impossible to have completely prepared myself for the shock of stepping outside the program and glimpsing the intricate and vast circuitry of the cosmic machine. This was the most difficult experience of my life, but also the most gratifying. Imagine falling in love, conceiving and being conceived, giving birth and being birthed all on a cosmic scale and all in one evening. Anyway, read on dear friend, for the grand adventure awaits.
T+0:00 - I dosed with 5.3 gram at a little after 8:30pm on a Monday. I had not eaten in some eight hours. As McKenna suggests, I did my best to clear my conscience. Fortunately, things had recently calmed down in my life after a period of severe upheaval. This had a lot to do with why I was so driven to do the “heroic dose.” I wanted to get another one under my belt before any other unforeseen travesties should occur. Also, I was hoping for a bit of healing or reassurance. I know ayahuasca would probably have been better for that, but I also like the matrix of information the mushroom tends to drop one into.
Anyway, after clearing my head I tidied up a little and got my silent, dark room readied with headphones, blanket, pillows, and cigarettes. Then I took a hot bath. I find this helps ease me into the severe boundary dissolution of the psilocybin trance. It also helps combat the chill. During the bath I got the first alerts. My limbs began to take on a strange jelly-like quality and there was a sense of something large looming on the horizon of my consciousness. I carefully exited the tub and dried off. By the time I was dressed, the walls were trembling, and I chanced to smoke one last cigarette while I still knew how.
T+0:45 - After extinguishing the cigarette, I shut off the light and lay down on the bed. The visions began almost instantly. I prayed to the mushroom that the experience be as painless as possible. I decided Bach’s 5th Brandenburg Concerto might be an interesting way to ease into the trip. It was, of course, awesome, but by the time it was over the first wave had passed. Taking stock of the situation, I noticed that “I” was still there, and the visions were fading fast. Odd. I tried to figure it out. The last time I did a “heroic dose” I couldn’t even remember my name. Perhaps these mushrooms were less than premium. Could it be my vitamin regimen? Losing patience and against my better judgment, I got up and wandered around the apartment.
In the dim light of the living room I assessed the intensity of my visions to be somewhere in the 3 gram range. But everything was still shimmering with beauty and meaning. I have to admit I felt some relief. I decided I had to go outside and check out the night sky. Outside I gazed in wonder at the stars and trees. Astonishing beauty. Finishing my cigarette and somewhat afraid that someone might come along and try to converse with me, I head back inside where I poured over a book of impressionist art (which was somewhat unimpressive) and then a volume of Escher. I laughed and cried over the intricate brilliance of his work. It was here that I first took notice of the high-pitch, repetitive, electronic noise in my head. I ignored it with some success.
T+1:30 - Somewhere about half way through the Escher, I noticed that the patterns in the works were extending off the page to cover the walls and floor of the room. Suddenly I was overwhelmed. The second wave was hitting. This was it. Unable to cope with the sensory overload, I retired back into the dark, silent bedroom. In the darkness I was swimming in some sort of primordial, amniotic ocean. Translucent jellyfish like creatures swam within the field of my awareness. Their florescent tentacles reached out in reassurance. However, I was having difficulty allowing myself to be reassured.
At this point things took on a new character. I could not tell whether my eyes where open or shut and soon there was no “I” at all. For the sake of clarity I will continue to use “I,” but keep in mind that this is misleading. There was only a sense of raw awareness. I was overwhelmed. I was evacuating my body. It was all I could do to keep breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Just keep breathing. I was being drawn out into the cosmic stream of energy. I was a breaker in a circuit. The flow of energy was so great I had to let go of everything; my body, my identity, language, and everything about the world I knew in order to keep from burning out. Let go. Breathe. Just let it flow.
Then a bubble of cognition rose to the surface of my consciousness. Sing! McKenna had said that when he gets into a tight spot he sings. I began by intoning an “Om” sound. This quickly mutated into a simple, but satisfying little tune that I sang to myself for hours on end. I was pure undefined being, and I was vibrating with the sound of my own energy. All around me I could sense other beings singing their own little cosmic songs. There were strands of DNA, photons, and electrons all humming with the information of their individualized frequencies. We were singing to each other. I then understood why tone and music were so basic to the human experience. All being sang with the frequency of its energy. Presences floated by. I met them, recognized them and we sang our songs to each other.
This went on for several eternities. I was so grateful I was weeping, and I concentrated all the energy of my being on expressing this gratitude. I radiated pure, unadulterated Love, and I was thus bathed in Love manifold. My being glowed with the healing warmth of divine Love.
T+?:?? - Gradually, there was a change. I could sense myself dropping down slowly through levels of energy, each one less excited that the last. There was a sense of being draw out of a vast ocean of potential. I had been selected for the “formality of actually occurring.” Eventually, my energy began to take form in matter. I was being conceived. Bit by bit, the world became Englishable. I could feel the earth beneath me, cradling me, my mother.
The metaphor of birth is endlessly applicable. Were it not for this concept, I very well may have flipped out. In waves my bodily awareness began to come back to me. I was an infant. The world began to form around me. Words floated into my head, and I would attach meaning to them as best I could. I was like a sculptor, teasing form out of a piece of marble. Words were my chisel. The form was the world.
A painless birth requires patience and the absolute ability to let go. I waited and when overwhelmed, I sang. I sang myself into existence. I was the mother, the midwife, and the child. I was never alone. There was always a presence of sorts watching over the scene, silently informing my intuition. I had absolute trust in the process. I had no choice.
T+?:?? - After a while, I was able to get up and urinate. I sat in the living room with my eyes shut, smoking a cigarette and humming to myself. This must be why old people hum to themselves. It’s incredibly comforting. I was overcome with gratitude. Not only had I been pulled from the vast ocean of possibility and selected to exist, I had been incarnated in to a body equipped with a complex mechanism of articulation.
The rest of the evening and much of the next day was spent in a state of somewhat fitful shock. I didn't have any pressing obligations, so I was able to spend this time synthesizing the the experience into my world view.
Fortunate are we. Find your song and sing it!
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