This is going here because it needs to be somewhere, but I don’t need to whole world reading it. It’s rambling, unedited and by all logical standpoints, positively insane, but I had to get it down before the experience faded into obscurity. Although reiterated throughout the rant, I’d like to say that I’m attempting to put into words something that could never be caged by the barriers of language. I actually suggest not reading this.
We arrived at the campsite tired, frazzled and holding an ironic tension stemming from a desire for the serenity that our impending actions would bring. We struggled with building a fire that refused to be what it was and continually snuffed itself out. Our store bought “dry” logs caught fire but then sizzled, shrinking the flames to coals within seconds of ignition as moisture oozed from the inner meat of the wood. It was like trying to jumpstart a battery that had already given up the ghost. No amount of blowing, fanning or rebuilding could bring it the self-sustenance it needed to serve its purpose. But once the coals warmed the food, and the food, our bellies, we ended our exercise in futility and shifted our attention to the real purpose of our excursion. Psilocybin…
The patterns on the blanket shifted and fluttered and then rose into three dimensional shapes. The gravel surrounding the blanket became an ocean, but one of gelatinous cubes inter-dispersed with self-sustaining points of light that would momentarily shift into discernible eyes, winking in and out of existence as the waves crested and bowed gently. The fog hung thick in the air and closed in around me like a curtain, creating a notion of isolation that brought an element of security. That’s when the journey began…
It started in the tent. On my knees, starting straight into the nylon roof above my head, but instead, seeing what I can only describe as heaven opening before me and what I can only define as God holding out his arms in invitation. I responded with an invitation of my own and he accepted…
I was back on the quilt. Lying flat on my back staring into the treetops and beyond, watching the trees heave with breath and the cosmos pulsate with life, but also watching the manifestation of divinity with my mind’s eye. I breathed deeply and smiled generously as everything that up until this point that had defined my existence, my struggles, fears, hopes, dreams, desires, appetites, memories, regrets, doubts, all of those things that, to me, defined this mortal cage that I’ve known as “David,” slipped into distant memory. Having shed my sense of self like a lead coat, I became aware of what I could only define as true reality. Strangely, it felt more like a reminder than a revelation; like waking from a long dark dream and realizing how much more beautiful reality is, but also knowing that the clarity was fleeting and the murky dream would resume in time. Still, it didn’t matter. I was pure consciousness, pure joy, pure knowledge, pure satisfaction, pure existence. In truth, I was in a state of existence that words insult in their attempt at definition, communing with a deity whose ways and thoughts cannot translate into the language of men. I can only describe the interaction as an embrace, but one that also communicated the very truth of existence, again indefinable by the constraints of language. Time became an illusion as did life itself. I was no longer stuck inside one point of my life, but rather equal in proximity and distance to and from every point that my life had been and would be-childhood, high school, adulthood, even a hazy vision of old age-they were all distant memories yet only a breath away. I understood everything but the mind below still encased within the illusion of flesh could quantify nothing. Below, the mortal coil lay nearly motionless, heaving in deep breaths, sighing in amazement and muttering continual thanks for the blessing of the moment that in truth, wasn’t a moment at all. Fear disappeared as I realized Illusions could be cast aside rather than feared. Hurt went out the door next. How could pain be felt if it’s only a dream? One by one, the little demons that cling to the unreality of life dropped by the wayside as their sting disappeared with their relevance. The divine embrace became my new definition as it immersed me and became me, my only point of melancholy again being the knowledge that I would eventually have to return to the illusion, not forever but for another chunk of that linear trap that the mortal part of me knew as “time.” For the first time, it made sense to me why in the Bible, when humans asked God for his name, he responded simply with “I Am.”
Slowly, I slipped back into the dream I once thought to be concrete, at least for the moment, in a perfect state of contentment, love and gratitude the only emotions that flowed from my being and the only fear being that one day I would again accept this illusion as reality.
What I learned:
I am a supernatural being temporarily caged by what we call existence; a manifestation of divine imagination. I am a limitless entity being tested by mortal limitations.
Mortality is an illusion and death is merely the final freedom from said illusion.
Since mortality is an illusion, so too are the afflictions that vex it (pain, fear, hatred, disappointment, heartbreak…), therefore such things should be paid little mind.
I always thought I’d find satisfaction when all of my questions were answered, but I’ve come to realize it’s actually when all of my questions disappear.