Many people will tell you that it can. And not only that, but that it has already changed theirs.

Most people who know me know that I typically expound the benefits of larger doses, but I always like an experiment, and if that experiment includes psychedelics, even better. So I thought I’d give it a fresh go, and I recently finished a month of microdosing psilocybin.

In this post, I’m going to share a report of my experience. I’ll also share my protocol, how I incorporated it into my routine, and overall what I experienced during the month, including positives and negatives.

Let’s dive in.

My Motivation and Previous Microdosing Experience

Honestly, I didn’t have a specific intention for the microdosing month. The experiment came about because I wanted to incorporate taking Lion’s Mane mushrooms into my routine (a mushroom touted for a whole host of health benefits). Lion’s mane are regularly taken with psilocybin as part of the now fairly well known ‘Stamets Stack’. So I thought ‘why not give it a go’?

I’ve done microdosing experiments before with LSD to positive results. I’ve also experimented before with micro and low doses of psilocybin, but never consistently or on any kind of regimen.

As the results of microdosing are subtle, it’s hard to pinpoint what’s working exactly. And so far, there is no solid science that tells us that microdosing is more than a placebo.

That said, there is a whole, whole lot of anecdotal evidence that reports on the positives.

The best way to find out if something works for you is to try it yourself.

So, that’s what I did.

My Protocol

Here’s a high-level look at how I conducted the microdosing experiment. I’ll go into more detail on each below.

• 5 days on, 2 days off
• Taken in the mornings with mushroom coffee (including lion’s mane, chaga, and cordyceps)
• Part of my morning routine
• Kept a log

5 days on, 2 days off

I dosed Monday – Friday and took weekends off. This is the pattern of famed mycologist Paul Stamets’ microdosing protocol I mentioned before. The main difference is that I didn’t take niacin, where Stamets’ recommends this. I typically work Mon-Fri so this fit in with my working schedule.

Served With Morning Mushroom Coffee

I incorporated my microdosing into my morning routine. Y’all know I love a good morning routine.

My morning routine for this period was:
– 3-5km run
– Shower
– 10 minutes Box Breathing
– Smoothie
– Microdose Mushroom Coffee whilst reading
– Start work

I would weigh out my dried and ground mushroom dose the night before and put it in a mug with a teaspoon of mushroom coffee. I’d cover the mug and leave it on my sideboard so it would be waiting for me the next day.

I used Mushies mushroom coffee. On weekends when I wasn’t microdosing psilocybin, I still took lion’s mane by way of their capsules and extract tincture.

Keeping a Log

I kept a log during the period. Y’all also know I like to keep drug logs.

I made a makeshift table in my bullet journal with columns for:

• Day and date
• Dose
• Strain
• Time taken
• Notes on the experience (with timestamps where relevant).

Notes on the experience included anything that seemed notable, and if nothing, just a few words about how I felt the day went. This included things like ‘good mood’, ‘productive day’, ‘tingling sensations’ etc. I included timestamps where they seemed relevant, like ‘tingling sensations’, so I could see how long after taking the dose I felt them.

Days 1-4: Finding The Dose

I generally have a higher-than-average tolerance for psilocybin, so I started with a decent dose of 0.3 grams of JMF psilocybin mushrooms.

I planned my first microdose day on a day when I had flexibility regarding my work schedule, just in case it was a bit high.

It was a good idea. I felt a slight tingling even before I had finished my coffee and thought ‘hmmm’. I then noticed the floor moving on a bathroom break not long after.

I knew that I’d taken more than a microdose and wouldn’t get much of the work I’d planned done, so I got comfortable, lay down, and put some music on my headphones. I did find it annoying as I had work I wanted to do, but there was nothing for it.

It wasn’t a real trip (basically level 1.5), so nothing major to report on. I just lay there listening to music. It was light enough that once it worn off, I was able to work in the afternoon.

The next day I scaled right down to 0.03g. I didn’t want to have to skip work again! It was a productive day.

On the third day I went up to 0.04g and reached a threshold experience. I was surprised that I could feel something from so low a dose, but it was unmistakable.  I could feel tingling sensations through my body, a slight sense of discomfort, and I needed to pee more often (which I’d experienced on threshold doses of LSD).

On day four I went down to 0.03g and had a good day, so I settled on this for the rest of the month.

My Experience

Positives: Good mood, positive, productive, focused

Overall, I had a good month. Most days I have notes which read ‘good mood’, ‘productive’, ‘positive’ and ‘good focus’, or some combination of those words.

To sum it up I would say I experienced good focus, good mood, general feeling of being upbeat and positive, and forward flowing with motion.

Microdosing by its very nature is very subtle, so it’s hard to say if I would’ve felt like this anyway, but regardless, those are the results. In general, I’d say these are typical of my days, but maybe not quite as noticeably. A friend of mine says he notices his microdose days more towards the end of the day when he reflects back and thinks ‘that was a good day’. So it could be something like that.

This fits in with a lot of the anecdotal reports and the general gist of Ayelet Waldman’s microdosing memoir: ‘A Really Good Day’, if not as radical.

On a smaller note, I also found it easier to make good decisions on a small level, such as making healthy food choices when shopping in the supermarket. That connecting-to-the-big-picture psychedelic effect.

Negatives: Anxiety

I did experience some unwelcome anxiety on two of the days.

One was on a travel day at the end of the month when my train was delayed multiple times as I was heading to the airport. I got fidgety and worried I might miss my flight.

Whilst this is understandable, I would say that I don’t usually feel this level of anxiety in this situation. I would guess that without any dose, I would’ve been more composed. This time, I did some box breathing via a guided audio on my phone which helped cool me down, if only a little.

There was another morning when I read an email that a payment processor was closing my account because of the nature of my business. I don’t normally go into my inbox in the mornings but I needed to get something out of there and the email caught my attention.

As I already had money sitting in that processor’s account, I found this stressful and worrying as I wasn’t sure if this would cause complications with getting said money out. It derailed my morning a bit and put me a bit out of whack.

Again, this would normally be stressful but I think the microdose intensified this. I was actually sweating! I’m not uber cool but I don’t think that would be my reaction on a normal day. It was only a few hundred bucks, not a huge sum.

Aside from my first days when finding my dose, these were my only two negative experiences in the month.

Final Thoughts

My conclusion from this month is that microdoses of psilocybin can intensify my present mood.

If I’m focused and positive, more so. If I’m anxious or worried, more so.

This fits in with psychedelics’ effect of state amplification, though I do find it surprising this happened on so low of a dose. It might have been due to a build-up of subtle effects over the month.

Overall it was a positive month. Even if it was nothing I would personally call groundbreaking, I have continued to microdose on carefully selected days in the meantime.

I would like to add that people experience microdosing very differently. A lot of people report that it lowers anxiety, or helps with depression. Or any other host of effects. This is just one man’s report.

If you’re curious, I would say, try it for yourself!

–

If you’re looking for a good source of mushrooms, I can recommend Mushies. I really enjoy their mushroom coffee!
Use code MAPS for 10% off!

The post One Month Microdosing Psilocybin: My Report appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

Honestly, it felt fucking amazing.

See, I love punk rock music. I love listening to it. I love playing it. And I’ve been wanting to perform again for years.

I played in a punk band as a teenager, and a rock band as a student, but I hadn’t played or performed publicly since.

The last time was over 10 years ago.

Rocking out, c. 2009

So how did I get back on stage, shouting these songs about being a loner, an ill-fated LSD trip, and the war on drugs?

Of course, this didn’t happen overnight. I have been building back to this for a while. A key moment was stopping in Berlin, and getting back into going to live shows.

But regardless, I have no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t have made it back to the stage already without doing The Artist’s Way.

The Artist’s Way is a course in book form. Subtitled ‘the classic course in discovering and recovering your creative self’, it is a program to be followed over 12 weeks. There are weekly reading and homework exercises to be done throughout the 12 week period.

So, wanting to use the new year’s energy as a fresh boost, I started the course on January 1st and just finished on Saturday.

The course is deep and the book covers a lot of ground, so in this post I won’t cover everything.
This will be a brief overview of my experience with The Artists Way, to give you an idea of what it’s like and if it might be for you.

The Tools

Outside of the weekly reading and exercises, there are two main tools in The Artists Way, The Morning Pages and The Artist’s Date.

The Morning Pages

The morning pages are three pages of longhand journaling to be done every morning.

A4 pages.
So about 30 minutes of pen and paper journaling every single morning.

I definitely felt resistance to this amount of journaling at times. But when I commit to something, I like to stick with it. So I did.

Generally, the pages can be about anything and everything.

For me, I found they were a chance to check in with myself, see what’s on my mind, dump it onto the page (I see notepads somewhat like therapists – in their non-judgmental receptivity), and actively think through things.

The pages gave me a chance to think actively and somewhat consciously, about areas I want to focus on in my life.

One section of the course involved writing down areas you need help or guidance on before you sleep and then journaling about them in the morning. This was like active brainstorming and problem-solving. I put key areas of my life I wanted to focus on: business, romance, and music – and fundamentals: eat, move, sleep.

As directed, the pages were also used for affirmations, exploring personal beliefs, and open-ended brainstorming.

Though the pages were quite a commitment, I found them to be hugely helpful.

I felt mentally clearer, and more ready and eager for each day by the time I finished them.

I could also see which topics were recurring, giving me insight into the contents of my mind.

Will I keep them up since finishing the 12 weeks?

Definitely.

Not every single day, but more as needed. Maybe a couple of times a week.

The Artist’s Date

The second main tool is The Artist’s Date.

The Artist’s Date is a weekly activity, say 2 hours, where you take you – and your inner artist – on a play date. It’s something to capture your imagination and nurture your creative consciousness. And the emphasis should be on fun.

It is to be done alone, with the idea that you are able to receive thoughts, and ideas – to hear your own inner voice.

I will admit that I found this surprisingly hard to keep up. I was also a bit unimaginative.

Still, I found it worthwhile. I went to the cinema a few times, a great hobby that I haven’t been up to much in the last couple of years. (and at a local cinema, for £5 a film, it’s a steal really).

Birmingham Artists Date

My funnest and most story-worthy artist date was heading over to the city of Birmingham, booking myself into a hostel for the night, and taking MDMA to go and see Titus Andronicus, a punk/indie band whose album An Obelisk has one of my favourites of the last few years.

The gig was a poignant experience in an unexpected way – but to save turning this into a trip report – the highlight was meeting one of my heroes after the show.

At the merch stand, I told ringleader Patrick that his music has been important to me, and thanked him. He visibly softened, expressed his appreciation, and extended his hand to shake in a tender and meaningful moment that’ll stay with me.

Honestly, I get a little misty just recalling it now.

After the gig, I went back to the hostel and ended up playing guitar in the common area for the travelers staying up and hanging out. I felt nervous before, but 7 weeks into the course, with the exercises I’d been doing, reflecting on my creative dreams, and plotting steps to get there, it pushed me over the edge in terms of picking up the guitar. Those continued steps got me to the first open mic a couple of weeks later on.

Weekly Tasks

Through the course, I would go to a cafe each Sunday and do my weekly reading and any journaling or written exercises.

This was a highlight of my week. It got me excited, inspired, and dreaming. I reflected, and wrote out action plans and small changes I would make.

Outside of journaling and reflection, other homework tasks included clearing out old stuff, writing letters to yourself, and mailing postcards to friends. An interesting one was a ban on reading for a week! There was a tonne of others. I won’t spoil the surprises but a few others were making collages, saying prayers, collecting pretty rocks, and treating oneself to childhood favorite foods.

There was a wide range of topics explored through the twelve weeks, really too much for me to dig into here, but one that resonated with me was perfectionism, process, and balance.

Perfectionism and Process

A key returning revelation was that we must allow ourselves to be bad artists if we are to be artists at all.

We must allow ourselves to make mistakes, understand that doing so is a necessary part of the process, and know that we won’t start great. This shifts the framing to process over result.

Balance

The Artist’s Way emphasizes a point of balance. It’s not all directly about creative work – in fact, very little of it is.

Sure, there is inner therapeutic work that includes looking at previous and childhood experiences and how they may have conditioned us. And the exercises include establishing a support system. And I can see why the process has apparently been used by therapists.

But a lot of it is about personal growth and self-care, bringing fun into life, and understanding that this leads to creative lives. Creativity is about festivity, enthusiasm, joy, and dreams. This was one of my favorite things about it.

One part I liked was that we surveyed six areas of our life. These were: work, exercise, romance/adventure, spirituality, play, and friends. These were rated three times throughout the course to check progress. Although I did go down in some areas (spirituality, exercise, and work suffered losses), overall, I gained 7 points across the board between week 2 and week 11, and this was hugely encouraging. Honestly, it felt great.

Final Thoughts

Overall, the 12 weeks on The Artist’s Way has been an amazing experience.

In general, I really enjoy committing to a guided growth process and allowing it to unfold as it will.

A couple of years ago I did a course in creativity: Amplify by Steve Pavlina, and the fruits were largely directed toward my psychedelic work. It was also hugely rewarding and had a big hand in the creation of the first version of The Conscious Psychedelic Explorer course, now three cohorts in and with plans to grow.

This time it was great for the focus to be on music, a love of mine that has been somewhat dormant but crying for attention in recent years. The fact I’ve performed solo in public now 5 times in the last 4 weeks (after 0 performances in the last 10 years, and never solo), with a childlike eagerness to continue, and a tonne of fresh ideas for songs and performances, speaks for itself.

I will admit that my enthusiasm for the process did wax and wane over the 12 weeks, and at times I found it quite hard to keep up. I didn’t do all of the exercises, not even close. But as Cameron writes, you can’t do the course perfectly, and as someone with sometimes obsessive tendencies (I like to be really thorough when I do things like this), I took this as a chance to practice letting go of perfectionism.

That said, I also think I will cycle back around for a second time, and do the things that I didn’t manage the first.

I have seen it dubbed: “A revolutionary program for personal renewal, The Artist’s Way will help get you back on track, rediscover your passions, and take the steps you need to change your life.”

I absolutely agree.

Overall, it’s been a great reminder of how much growth can be achieved in a short time when one is committed. And just as importantly, how fun, interesting, and exciting our lives can be.

Do The Artist’s Way With My Support

I’m hugely excited about the idea of offering a group process with The Artists Way, with weekly meetings and check-ins with a group of fellow explorers to share the journey with. I have some ideas for incorporating psychedelics into this course that I’m massively excited about too.

If you’re interested in doing this with a group of psychedelic-friendly folks, get in touch or join my mailing list.

In the meantime, if you’re interested in doing this in a 1-1 coaching format, just send me a message. I’d love to support you in your creative life!

The post My 12 Week Journey with The Artist’s Way appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

In 2013, fellow seeker and Shanghai based expat Matt Nicol and I embarked on a journey to Huangshan, the famous Yellow Mountains of China. We did so armed with only two small backpacks, twenty joints, and two bombs of αMT. I am delighted to share Matt’s account of an incredible day during our time there…

Twenty Plus Two

The howl of another Chinese man-child spreads voraciously around the valley below. Beginning to fathom the splendid view he could contain himself no longer and then, barely gripping the handrail, leaned fully over the ledge to bellow and roar. Guttural flashes bounce over every crevice and return to us. I am here, he says. In the great expanse of time of all creatures and people who have stood here and documented their existence, I, too, am here. The mountains do not register; the mountains show no inkling of encouragement or receptivity: they give no concern for the sound echoed by past and present. What joy, what exuberance, to behold this man registering his powerful fragility amongst the vastness. Enveloping in a cry the girlfriend stood awkwardly by the deep reds that fade to nascent yellows, all punctuated by the green and browns of the miracle pines that line these sights.

How long did we stand there? In total, the time it takes to walk one step. We’d followed this man, of thick expression and oval features, for all time. We’d followed this woman, perplexing and quiet, time and a half. For our purpose we were a little less than halfway through endless present moments.

An alarm had been set that day. Agreed the night before, it would sound two hours before sunrise. And it was so. In one movement the alarm was silenced and a bomb was dropped and sleep resumed. Then, it sounded again. An hour already? Five more minutes. It sounds again. It’s time. Weary feet find shoes and trousers and the correct path. Darkness meets a coy lightness; they narrate our way, gradually revealing the path over and under the mountains.

Paused ascent becomes the resting place as we continue to come up. My companion takes a closer inspection on all fours. Clandestine smokes are the final preparation as eyes penetrate the day. Slowly, in bursts, accustomed in parts of a whole but not wholly. A place by the path, we settle and wait and watch our silence united. The approaching luminary comes. Layer upon layer of detail is stencilled in to the valley.

A black ship rises, dancing against the again invigorated blue. A medley of shapes twirl before us but it disbands, there is no encore. Yet there is no need, see there now, as if for the first time, the pregnant glow of the horizon. It arrests us all but calls mesmerizingly, the moment comes it comes it comes it is here: an orange crescent that reaches to us gladly in warmth and wisdom.

O great giver of life we are here today to greet you.

Millennia of solar worship are understood. Yet it is only after the fact that I am able to extricate these points to recognise them, to deconstruct the symbiotic perfection of that sunrise. In this moment filled with weightless understanding. In this moment caged by returned analysis. In this moment all is there: limitless and limited and all wondrously connected. The sun reveals amber shoulders and a darkening, smooth belly, its warm caress softly closing your eyes and demanding you perceive it.

Cheers further down the way pepper the slow ascent of the globular monster. Its brightness blinds at first, seeming to irradiate from a single point above the line of sky and earth; it tempts appreciative peeks and wild smiles as suddenly it towers above the morning’s mist and ignites. Warmth descends and guides rising spirits: the eyes must close to it now and instead feel the gentle consistency of its presence against body and person.

Petal led legs fold as the hands adopt their pose,

feel the dear sensation now the sun has rose.

Sit with the breath and the mind shall rest,

in a body worn as clothes.

The sun it rises and our faces smile and the matinee peace sits with us here

by this mountain path,

by this sheer drop,

by this vast ocean valley before us.

We have been sitting here now for a short while though most are beginning to return. Now the moment has passed they slink away in their groups, chatting and laughing and planning the day ahead, there is still so far to go. We sit by the path with its gentle stairs, short plateaus and sudden descents, scuffling shoes, and droplets of conversation. Our backs face a staircase and from here there is a sheer drop in front of us; the body on which we sit begins to stretch out somewhere below, straining to greet its temperate and rough companions. Mere specks on the shoulder of a slumbering beast, we have never seen as far as we do now: through mountaintop and rich valley stretching to where the sky tries to catch the fleeing earth. There are trees next to and above us, catching the sun and casting back shadows, before gleefully floating on breezes. Down far to our right the path swiftly becomes cloud and we can see no further.

A group now approaches, I can hear them sounding young and tired but pleased, and they pass us now and start to leave. Faintly recognizable from a chance encounter in darkness the night before, one approaches to ask if we remember them. Of course, we smile, greeting him and the bemused rest.

He says, may I take your photo?

Well, I don’t see why not.

You are handsome and cool, he says.

My brother, you have no idea.

A short shoot is arranged, first alone and then with befriended strangers. They know not of what they have touched this day; we garner this attention by merit of paler skin and stranger clothes and perhaps wider eyes. You have all become a part of our trip, friends, and for that we thank you before you go. Now they are gone, a thought: to whom has that photo been shown?

Yet we did not ascend to such a peak unassisted, and though we may still have further to climb this day it is unlikely to be in so isolated a state as this now. Soon the gates and cables will be opened and social media snappers will infest this celestial place. Perhaps just a little while longer, here we have time and no time and thus no fear. A certain solemnity has marked the whole occasion: expectations of wild thought and breathless talk have yet to bear fruit; instead, we sit in the shade of silent discussion. There we have the plan for the day and here we decide that now is when we should start to move on. 

With everything now returned to bags and backs and a final salutation of the sun committed, we begin to return. A short journey, though it visits several peaks and troughs, will take us to our place of rest: a mountain-top hotel upon a peak grazed by clouds. With the bags then packed and ourselves assembled we begin our saunter, skipping lightly through leaves and stones. Approaching a sheer drop staircase, the path we follow gently dissolves and becomes a forgotten part of the grand expanse of sky. It seems we’ve nothing in front of us now, merely these stairs that have been sculpted from rock.

Then, appearing without care, a splendid view: one majestic peak, three smaller kneeling before it, and a precarious stair path that snakes along, inviting and calling to us to follow this road. We had been sat from this sight for some hours in ignorance of what was before us, so now we stop, paused, wide of mouth yet nostril breathing, at the view. Jagged barren tips that reach from feet some distance below us are lined with trees and stand casually by. They need no appreciation, the quiet rest ongoing from an explosive birth inside the earth eons ago. We are pebbles, if not grains of sand, and begin to return as we must.

Just one step.

One step.

One step.

The short walk to the hotel seems shorter than the night before but only as a concept of time has evaporated. First we may look back to where we had been before, toward a great height that seems unimaginable now. Then to the side, away from our safe view down into the great life of below, a hand still placed on the rock face, just lightly so.  Or still forward, the undulating path that patiently waits for us to pass – that we may never return matters not, it is only that we may survey these great swathes of being. Beauty may be appreciated, yet it remains a projected conceptualisation from within: no matter, we will get closer to truth.

We arrive.

The carpets are louder and the staircase wider and the corridor the longest I’ve ever seen. Tracing through the faded memories of this Technicolor floor and dearly anticipating the soft, safe sanctuary of that far-flung corner door. It clicks open. First there is the protrusion of the bathroom, then two single beds opposite a dresser; the fourth wall is a window to another marvellous scene. Music, we need music. Felled like a tamed impala, I dissolve onto the bed with eyes brightened by clouds kissing crags and the looming solemnity that awaits this juvenile pool. Still yet we sit in silence. Of what use now is talk? We are spoiled by this view, this experience, this sensory heaven. (We know we will have to leave later, though such a time seems impossible so then discussion needless.) Seconds slide past our window. The soundtrack to our bliss-movie winds through hibernation and wonder. Raspberry Cane drops: one of my great ecstasies. Crawling and running, funnelled and expansive; into and through the silent and screaming recesses of mind. Circling now, still yet circling, closer to being and being further than before:

Nature is my nature,

Time is my view,

Beauty is my mantra,

beautiful is Truth.

Having checked out, pleasantries abounding, we return to the square just outside and settle into our walk. To feel sunlight and breeze eases the spirit and we begin: a single step to take us over three peaks and a valley. We gently pass through a careening mass of people who shout and spit and see only five megapixels at a time. We sit to let them pass, we smile as they snap us, our silence to their chatter, their lives and ours joined by passing glances. And then we continue, as they do too, too many views to recount in moments that were endless.

I have been struggling with these countless stairs, not knowing where to look: need I see my feet to walk or may I look further out? I still have half of this narrow staircase to tread and yet, the right hand rises, softly grazing then gently placed upon the rock face it lands on understanding.

We stand before a signpost with our maps outstretched though they don’t agree with each other. Which path is the right to tread? We choose, walk, choose, walk, and arrive in time.

There are mentions of rain showers all around us; a fear of falling water accelerates the saunters. We all huddle until it passes.

As I reach the bottom of another set of stairs I glance to my left to see my gaze caught by a monk. In that moment that we share we find time to communicate complete understanding.

Again, we take rest, there’s no need to hurry. My companion notices a small mountain spring and is taking the opportunity to refill our empty bottles, repeating the act for many of those who pass the other way. One young girl is astounded, Foreigners, is the explanation of her wise, smiling grandfather.

We have been following a young couple for some time, scaling a great peak before greatly accepting its adjacent decline. They kiss and skip and chatter, often looking back to see us both simply stepping through arpeggio raindrop cascades. They emerge to a peak and gasp, letting go of hands and inching toward the edge. Hear him now: hear how he howls.

The post Twenty Plus Two: Sunrise αMT at Huangshan appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

Soon after returning home from Latin America in 2017, my Mum decided to leave my Dad after many years of difficulties in their marriage. It was a very difficult time for us all, for both of them, for my older brother, and for myself.

I managed to take it reasonably well, understanding the reasons why after seeing it not really working for many years. I wanted them to stay together but didn’t want to continue seeing the pain that they were both in in the relationship. It broke my heart but felt like it was the only real way forward. In the end, I just wanted both of them to be happy.

I tried my best to conduct myself as a good son, to do the best that I could, supporting them both through the process, having long talks with both of them, hearing both of them, and not taking either side.

It was during this period of separation, whilst we were still living in the same house, that I went again up to Sheffield for a private solo psychedelic session.

I was in an emotionally rocky patch with everything going on, and even cried on the train ride from my home town of Leamington up to Sheffield. I stayed in a friends house whilst he was away for the weekend. One of those friends who I’d had my very first experiences with.

I conducted this session in the most considered and ceremonial way of all the trips I had yet. I had done the photo trip in the weeks before, and had a selection of them with me. On the day, I tidied the space thoroughly before, burnt sage, opened with a prayer in a simple dropping ceremony, then I took around 2 and a half tabs of 1p-LSD.

I used headphones and an eye mask for the first time, following the standard protocol used in the research and by the practitioners in the books I’d read by James Fadiman and Leo Zeff.

The come up was pretty bumpy and early on I used nitrous oxide to ground myself and drop in to experience. However, I continued to I encounter hurdles of anxiety and doubt as my sense of self continued to shift and dissolve. I just kept reassuring myself ‘I am OK, I have taken LSD, this is part of the experience, relax yourself’. I continued to follow my meditation training, relaxing myself by returning to my breath, breathing deep, and relaxing all the muscles in my body. 

In the first chapter I flew through music, and even before hearing them, saw notes and sounds as objects formed in colourful patterns, flying through wide open space, and crashing in to an invisible wall and exploding as those sounds actually reached my ears and I heard them. I felt my perception open wide beyond me and I lay marvelled at a sense of liberation and wonder. My first album of Brazilian psychedelic rock ended and I put on some Brian Eno.

At some point I’m not really sure what or how it happened, but I left.

I dissolved in to the energy of the universe. I became one with the all encompassing stream of energy that makes up all spirit, matter and life. But at the same time there was some how some witness experiencing it. It’s strange in that I only came to understand it in this way after I came out of it and some how back in my body later on. Whilst in it, it just was, but I wasn’t there.

In that experience, there were visions of what felt like a past life, and alternate realities, or sub realities to the one in which we inhabit.

There were cryptic messages, somehow transmitted to me, that my mother and father will come together again, though it may be after these current incarnations.

Somehow in some way, they will find their way back to each other and it will be the most beautiful reunion. They will both see and understand it all, and that their separation in this way was just a part of a larger story. 

As parents, they have more than done their part. They have done so much for me. I will forever be thankful for them, all the love and support that they have shown me and the most incredible parents that they have been. They will, and we as a family, will find our love for each other again. Their break, as everything, is temporary. Everything will come together again.

Somewhere in this universal experience, I saw my life within the great story of life and of humanity. Somehow, my whole life, not just up to that point, but of my years to come, had already happened. I understood that my life is just an expression of the universe. Just like how a single one of my smiles is an expression of me, John Robertson, at one moment in my life, I understood how my entire life as John Robertson is a singular expression of the universe, at one extended moment. Again, I didn’t see it and understand it in that moment, it somehow happened after, coming to me in bits and pieces during the hours, days and weeks after the experience as I reflected and processed.

Half returned to my body but still very much in the experience. I flooded with tears. I sobbed and wept like a baby. I don’t believe I have cried so hard since I was an actual baby, so full and unashamed as it was. Full throttle, deep and reverberating, out and out bawling. It was right, to let it out, and I felt all the pain of my parents relationship flowing out as memories of situations from our home came back to me. 

After my weeping descended, on a toilet break, I saw myself in the bathroom mirror, my eyes still wet with tears. I saw myself as a young boy of around 8 or 9. I saw this poor young boy standing before me and felt a compassion and lovingkindness towards him. And then a thought came to my mind…. ‘so this is what our society deems to be a criminal’. Here was this boy, trying to help myself, doing no harm to anyone else… and this is a criminal activity. It felt so wrong.

Why should this be illegal?

I was extremely fortunate in that I had a friend who had a house that I had access to. But that was extremely lucky. What if he hadn’t gone away for the weekend? And what about all the people who don’t have access to a private space?

I received tremendously from this experience but it was a massive logistical struggle to set up. Before even beginning to think about the space, it was very difficult to procure that LSD in the first place. It was only because of my prior experiences, combined with reading reports from the studies and research, that I knew there was something really there with psychedelics, something really worth discovering. If I didn’t have such a firm conviction, I would have given up long before.

I considered how many people could benefit from this type of experience but are prohibited from doing . It upset me. The criminalisation of LSD and other psychedelics made no sense. It felt deeply unjust. 

That feeling stayed with me. I felt indignant about drug policy and with a new clarity I saw how insane current drug laws are. In a burst of passion I wrote a draft on my journey home, trying to find the angle from every side, scribbling in notebooks on bus and train rides back. 

Back at home, I had gained a deeper understanding and insight in to my parents separation. I could place no blame on either side. I thought of their upbringings, raised in different continents, from different cultures and backgrounds. It was just unfortunate that didn’t work out in the way we had all hoped. Any lingering feelings I had of frustration and resent towards my parents dissolved. I understood them as my way of trying to deal with the difficult feelings that came from losing my family and home as I knew it.

I came to a deeper compassion for both of my parents. Neither of them wanted this and they both suffered as a result of it too. No one was to blame, it was just how it went. Whatever happened, I know I had super parents, and I understand how incredibly fortunate I was to have grown up in such a loving and caring household, that always wanted me to succeed, that always supported me, that has always been there for me.

Mum and Dad, I love you both so much and will be forever grateful. I hope that I can only show the world the love you have shown to me. If I can bring an ounce of that to others, I know the world will be a better place. Your love has given me deep strength and inner resources to go on in my life. You have taught me to always try my best, to try to do the right thing, and at the bottom of it all, with heart.

This experience gave me a deep reverence for the high dose ceremonial psychedelic experience. For the depths of healing and understanding, for the incredible mystery of existence, for the mystical dimensions of the universe, of the divine, the sacred, and the absolute mystery of it all.

It made me aware of how incredibly sensitive and vulnerable we are in these spaces and states, and that is something I carry with me every time I sit down next to someone for a session.

It also led me to believe that nearly all problems stem from misunderstanding. When it comes to understanding each other, communication is key and I have come to value communication as a key life skill.

Back to the weeks and months following the trip…
Reflecting on that experience, I thought: how many people could benefit from this experience?

It became my mission to make this experience more accessible. 

I understood that this is the field I want to work in and dedicate my life to.

I wanted to go all in on the movement and help in any way that I could, but I didn’t have a clear direction.

I started where I was. I wanted to work on social stigma, seeing cultural perception as a means of shaping advocacy and civil rights movements, and broadening the field of people who might be interested; so I continued on with the blog, citing research more, using logos and science, the language and religion of our world today.

I also wanted to work on being able to offer safe and conducive places for people to have them. The drug laws might take decades to change. That wasn’t good enough. But where to begin?

I needed more experience, more knowledge, and I needed to really engage with the global psychedelic community.

Accordingly, I took the next steps…

The post My Psychedelic Story Pt. 2 appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

There is dispute in the Buddhist community about the value of psychedelics ‘on the path’ and if you’re interested in the intersection of Buddhism and psychedelics, I highly recommend the book Zig Zag Zen. There are plenty of other articles on this topic, but today I’m just gonna share a bit of my story and how these two things have weaved their way into my life.

Discovering LSD

I first tried LSD as a curious guy keen for new experiences. As someone who enjoyed being creative, I was especially interested in new ways of thinking. I also wanted to have fun. I had little idea what I was in for when I put that little piece of paper in my mouth, but looking back, I now see those first experiences as pivotal in my life. Though they’ve affected me in many ways, one that stands out is how they lead me to meditation. At the time I had never tried meditating, nor had any real idea what it was, but if I had never tried LSD, I honestly doubt I’d have started meditating.

How Psychedelic Experience Lead Me To Meditation

On the tail end of my first LSD trips, I didn’t have any ‘comedown’. The post-trip chapter I experienced would more accurately be described as a serene, contemplative afterglow. After the ecstasy and madness of the peak, I descended to a more peaceful state which was in its own way, my favourite part of the whole experience. Though at the time I didn’t have any clear idea of what ‘meditation’ meant, I described the afterglow state to friends as meditative; my mind was sharp and clear and I was deeply reflective. I also noticed that my breathing naturally became long and slow. This tuning into the flow of my breath was a naturally induced meditation session.

When my friends and I didn’t naively first time candy flip on a Sunday and have to go to work the next day without getting a wink of sleep (see: my first time on acid – I started a new job that Monday – another story, another time), an ideal recovery day would be spent chilling with my fellow travellers. We’d order pizza, smoke joints and get comfortable on the sofas for a run of movies. After a long session, we were always physically exhausted, yet my mind was always energised. With this mental energy I’d wander philosophically through themes and ideas that came up in the films, conversation, music or anything else. As we watched movies I’d interpret them in all kinds of novel ways, see metaphors the writers and directors had put in, and understand concepts that I hadn’t considered before. I’d make notes in my journal about interesting ideas that came to mind and, of course, just generally enjoy hanging out. Relaxed but attentive, naturally contemplative, it was a taster for meditation.

In the wake of these experiences, my mind was clearer. I had a greater awareness and detachment of my thoughts. I felt wiser. I was looking at things from a greater perspective more often and more naturally, like that mental trick you do when something bad happens and you ask yourself “how much will this matter in 5, 10 or 20 years?”, or you zoom out on google maps to try and coerce the overview effect. I was thinking more creatively and seeing metaphors in almost everything, and my behaviour became less guided by fear and petty concerns. The effect was sudden and obvious, and lasted some months before beginning to fade and older mental habits and ways of being began to return.

I missed my newly found but now fading clarity and wisdom, but I’d experienced another way of being that I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Following a wikipedia trail, I was lead from psychedelic drugs to non-ordinary forms of consciousness to meditation; a method of changing awareness, without substances. Though my access to psychedelic substances was gone, my newly whetted appetite for discovery remained, and I moved to Asia with a job teaching English.

From the UK to China

In my new home city of Shanghai, I started going to classes on meditation and reading books on the topic. Reading books about Buddhism felt like I was reading books about psychedelic experience, and in retrospect, they were some kind of integration texts. I began a daily meditation practice, and soon after went on my first silent retreat in 2012.

Temple stay in Korea

In the 6 years that have passed since, meditation practice has become a key foundation in my life. I’ve been back on other retreats and temple stays, was part of a Zen sangha in the tradition of Thich Nhat Hanh in Spain, and last year started a weekly meditation group in Berlin. Meditation is what a friend of mine would call a fundamental – others include exercise, diet, community and creative projects – and mindfulness is a skill I find applicable in so many situations of life. 

Like many others, my practice started with psychedelics. And while my first psychedelic journeys lead me to meditation, meditation has boomeranged back around and played its role in my psychedelic sessions. Today I’ll share one example.

How Meditation Helped On A Deep Journey

On a grey Saturday a couple years ago, alone in a friend’s house whilst he was away for the weekend, I took 250 micrograms of LSD. In the months before, I’d been reading various psychedelic-therapeutic protocols and had prepared accordingly for the session. I managed the anxiety of a turbulent come up by relaxing myself many times as I noticed myself getting anxious and tightening up, and directing my attention to my breathing. Around an hour in, as the lysergic waves really began to come on strong, I was lying down, looking up at the ceiling.

In one moment, a monster appeared above me. It was hovering over me, looking down at me from the ceiling. I was looking directly at its face, and it was looking right back at me, right into my eyes.

I was instinctively gripped by fear. My shoulders and rest of my body tightened up instantly as I stared in shock. The beast was of course not physically there, it was a manifestation of my fears, a representation of what scares me and had been avoided.

I held the monster’s gaze, took a deep breath in, and with a long exhale, relaxed my body, letting tension go. As I did this, the monster dissolved into harmless patterns right before my eyes. The visual information was in fact the same – the rich ceiling patterns that made up the monsters face were still there – but they no longer appeared scary or even as a being to me. What changed wasn’t the sensory information I was receiving, it was my perception of it. What made up the ‘monster’ was still there, I just saw it differently. I had a new perspective.

There were a few other moments leading up to this confrontation where I noticed myself getting anxious and tightening up, and I consciously relaxed my body. I see these as like smaller hurdles that once passed, allowed me to get to the point of this confrontation. The dissolution was like a jumping off point, and after this I dropped deep into ineffable experience.

The journey was deep and had many chapters: there were visions of a past life, alternate realities, and repressed emotions burst up and were released though uncontrollable bouts of sobbing. In the most profound chapter, it was a transpersonal experience; ‘I’ disappeared, along with time, and experience just happened.

I’ll share this story in more detail another time but for now I think its enough to say it was a significant experience that shifted something deep inside of me. The next day I felt lighter and clearer. I had more understanding and compassion. And my meditation practice was revived with a spark. I hadn’t been this affected since those very first journeys – the ones that spurred me on to meditation. I didn’t become a holy and all-understanding being overnight, but I inched in that direction. 

Reflecting on the session afterwards, I saw how techniques that I’d learnt in meditation helped me to relax, to let my guard down and open to the experience with lessened resistance. And this is why I recommend meditation to anyone considering a first psychedelic experience. Including you.

Thanks for reading.

The post Psychedelics and Meditation – How They’ve Informed Each Other On My Path appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

This is a guest post from my friend Patrick about his recent experience smoking 5-MeO-DMT (also known as bufo, toad, or 5). Thanks to Patrick for sharing his experience here.

September 13th, 2018

Four days ago I had my second journey with Bufo Alvarius / 5-MeO-DMT. Like the first time, it was incredibly profound and there are no words to adequately describe what I experienced. But, I’ll try anyway.

Preparation

This happened on a weekend retreat with a group of around 20 others. As part of the retreat, many activities were supposed to prepare us for the experience. There were yoga classes, energy work, a Kambo treatment and excellent vegan food. All of this contributed to me being in an incredibly relaxed state when it was my turn for taking five. In particular, the Kambo experience seemed to have an incredibly grounding effect on me. I probably was more relaxed than when I smoked weed for the first time. This is undeniably the best possible scenario to be in when doing the strongest psychedelic substance on earth.

The retreat took place in mainland Europe

So, on Sunday afternoon I met with the practitioner and an assistant in a nice spot outside the house. After a short round of breathing exercises, I inhaled the vapour of the toad secretion and even before completely finishing the pipe, the medicine started to kick in strongly.

The Experience

My perception and sense of self began to dissolve. It seemed that I merged with my surroundings until there was nothing left of “me”. There was no fighting or struggling with what was happening. I remember on my first encounter with this medicine, at this point an incredible amount energy surged through my body and briefly I got somewhat panicky. This time it was more gentle – more like a soft melting together of everything that I thought of as me and the world, inside and outside, self and other (I initially had my eyes open). The last memory I have of that stage is that everything was shining with an ever increasing white light until I was completely gone.

I don’t really have tangible memories of that stage, but what was very clear was that it was an experience of utter peace. Maybe it could be described as a state of pure consciousness without contents. The words “emptiness” and “void” come to mind, but the fact that I remember the feeling of peace suggests that some part of me-ness was still there. I can’t really say much more about this part. I think it maybe lasted for about 10 minutes, during which I was calmly laying on my back (reconstructed from the observations of others).

My True Nature

This is where it gets really interesting. At this point, some form of identity and mind came back online, and at the same time a huge download of information hit me, maybe not huge but more like all-encompassing. It felt like direct access to ultimate truth. This lead to the recognition, or rather, the remembering, of my true nature. What I thought I kinda of understood after sitting meditation retreats and reading books about non-duality was experienced directly now: I am not my body or my mind or some fragment of reality, I am the totality of it all. It’s all me. There exists nothing else beside me: pure Being, the Self, Brahman, God. If you haven’t experienced this, it sounds silly. If you have, it changes everything. For a brief moment I was struggling to accept this (“Wow, there is only God, that means it’s me, but … wow, does that mean, uh.. whoa!”), but eventually I did and it was like something snapped.

Art by Marcelo Dalla

Embodiment of this understanding: This moment was an experience of endless joy, absolute satisfaction and pure perfection. It was like I was in a big arena and there was cheering from all directions. Later I was told that I repeatedly shouted “Yes! YES! YES! YEEEES…”. It felt like the most complex math equation in existence was finally solved and the result was the simplest thing one could imagine: 1.

Everything made sense now. It felt like my heart exploded into a feeling of almost unbearable love (for myself) and joy (of being). It was very clear that this is IT. This is what it’s all about. This is the highest truth. There were no doubts about this. It was self-evident, as obvious as the fact that it hurts when you pinch your arm. It’s so simple. Just accept yourself as what you truly are, and you become one with it. That’s all that’s needed, saying YES to life, to God, to yourself. I was sure that this state was permanent, and that I would never come back into dualistic reality again. I was home now, and I had no plans to leave.

At some point, I regained the feeling of my body. I heard birds chirping and felt the warmth of the sun on my skin. I opened my eyes and saw the sky and the people guiding me through the experience. This didn’t feel like coming back from a trip into reality but more like the exact opposite: I was entering this virtual reality again, the reality I’ve chosen to be part of. My ego instantly started to do its thing: Thoughts like “Wow, I must have been going through something very special here!”, “I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing!”, “I should do something now, shouldn’t I?”. The joy I’d felt was still with me though. The simplicity and perfection of it were still tangibly close. I felt I could leave this dream world anytime I wished. But at the same time I noticed feelings of lack, struggle, doubts and desires coming back. Right! The suffering! I totally forgot about that.

Reentry Of Ego

Over the next few minutes I watched my ego reassemble part by part. This happened so quickly and spontaneously that it was a little shocking to witness. It felt almost mechanical. Like a software that is being reinstalled on an operating system. Within 15 minutes or so “I” felt almost completely “normal” again and was on my way to get lunch in the kitchen. Only later did I find some time for myself to contemplate the experience.

A few days later what has happened is still very much with me. The most important insight for me right now is what I felt during this enlightening phase: that pure perfection, infinite love and joy is already our true nature. It’s right here, right now, only veiled by illusion.

For some reason this moment just before I was ready to accept this and say YES to it comes back again and again. Every night since it happened I wake up (usually around 3 in the morning) and it seems I’m in this position again where I can freely choose to identify with my true being. Sometimes I’m in there for a few (timeless) seconds, most of the time though I feel a strong fear and resistance and chicken out. But in any case, I’m filled with a deep feeling of contentment afterwards because I remember what I experienced and know that in the end there is nothing to worry about.

I can’t put into words the gratitude I feel for having experienced this.

Art by Krystleyez

“I searched for God and found only myself.
I searched for myself and found only God.”
– Rumi

The post Welcome Home: My 5-MeO-DMT Experience appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

Put on by Myco Meditations, the 10-day retreat was on the south coast of the island and had plenty going on outside of the 4 psilocybin sessions – there were group activities like art integration and guided meditations, presentations on psilocybin and session prep, and optional day trips to local areas. Comedian Shane Mauss did some of his ‘A Good Trip’ standup on psychedelics and a talk on DMT, and psilocybin researcher Katherine Maclean gave talks and acted as a facilitator for the sessions. Frankly speaking it was as awesome as it sounds and definitely a highlight of a what was personally an unpredictable roller coaster of a year.

How Did I End Up There?

A question I asked myself a few times. The short answer: by following my passions. The longer version is that I came across Myco Meditations online some time last year and after a brief email exchange with founder Eric Osborne we set up a skype call. Over the next couple of months we continued to connect and the next thing I know I’m booking a flight to Jamaica to film at the event.

Eric – a man who is happy whenever around mushrooms

Filming & Integration

I was there primarily to film some videos for the MycoMeds website and youtube and the filming interestingly merged into psychedelic integration, an emerging field I’m becoming increasingly interested in and one I think will develop rapidly in the coming years.

I sat down and did interviews with those on the retreat, asking them about their experience of it – the group dynamic, the facilitators, Jamaica – and more specifically their experiences during the psilocybin sessions. Doing these interviews was rewarding in itself and as people opened up I was reminded how important and powerful this work is. It really got me, and during one interview as someone talked to me about family troubles and how they’d come up in one of his high dose sessions, I was struck deeply with compassion. People were gaining new perspectives and the ability to see things in a more positive light. Good to know the mushies were working their magic.

The interviews gave me ideas for a type of video integration – where people can speak about their experiences and have the videos to help reconnect them to their experience and their new perspective, and continue to work with the insights they’ve gained. If you have any further ideas on how this might be developed, contact me.

Sitting

As well as filming I was also a sitter/facilitator for half of the sessions. Being entrusted in this role to be there for people during their psychedelic experiences is an absolute honour and privilege. Truly humbling. There is a lot to get into here and too much for this post so I’ll just say that sitting really is a skill and something which I learn more about with each experience – this was no different and I learned things which will inform my approach next time. Until then, my basic advice as a sitter to a tripper would be: if you encounter difficult emotions, relax, go towards and into them, and explore them with curiosity.

Let your guard down and walk naked into the fire.
(Metaphorically speaking. Please don’t actually walk into a fire.)

The Importance Of Vulnerability

The retreat made me realise that this willingness to vulnerability isn’t just important in the psychedelic experience – it’s important as a part of life. The group on this retreat bonded as the week progressed and conversations became deeper as we started opening up to each other more and more. I was reminded, yet again, that we’re all human and all have our troubles and struggles in life. Something that’s surprisingly easy to forget.

This is something that should be acknowledged because ignoring problems is never a good long term game plan. Whilst I don’t think it’s healthy to focus too heavily on problems – of course we should take time to count our blessings and enjoy life as it is – I do believe that the areas of our life we struggle with should be looked at honestly and strategically. If problems are left without inspection they may grow into a beast that is hard to even look at, let alone begin to decide how to take down. Naturally, looking at our problems isn’t comfortable, sharing them with others less so, and that’s exactly why it takes courage to be vulnerable. It seems natural to think of vulnerability as a weakness but the truth is the opposite. The ability to be vulnerable is a strength.

Having a group setting where you can sincerely share your problems is powerful. Talking about your problems or fears can give you the chance to say out loud things that have never been truly acknowledged. This can lead to a new understanding of your own feelings and opinions on things. Having someone patiently and sympathetically listen to you reinforces that its OK and normal to have problems and that we don’t need to hide from them. Once they are acknowledged then we can start to formulate a plan to tackle them. By talking with others we can receive support and advice on how to do this. If it is something out of our control, we can begin to learn acceptance.

The other side – hearing other people’s problems – is also helpful. We usually get so caught up in our own worlds that it’s easy to forget that everyone else is fighting their own battles too. But when someone is sat in front of you telling you they struggle with a difficult relationship, social anxiety, depression, direction in life, or whatever it is – you can’t ignore it. It shatters the facade of the world that deceives us through advertising – that everyone is supposed to be happy all the time – and hearing it directly from someone else gives you a very real reminder that you’re certainly not alone in your struggles. This can be empowering; a shared burden feels lighter and you can share with each other things that have helped you.

The Necessity Of Retreats

Most people don’t really take the time to properly reassess their position and direction. Too busy distracted. Or trying to earn or spend more money. Because apparently that’ll make us happy. But we know that really this isn’t true and instead of chasing the next hit of fleeting pleasure we should just stop for a second (or a week, or a month). We should take the time to see where we are and where we’re going, otherwise we’ll unwittingly end up somewhere we never wanted to be – ‘somewhere’ being the type of person we are and the life we’re living.

Retreats by their nature offer us that opportunity to stop, reflect, have those important conversations, and realign ourselves. They give us the distance from our normal lives that is needed to get some perspective, and after we can go back into the world with our priorities in order. Combine this with psychedelics and a deeper mental reset and you have a powerful combo. But even without psychedelics I think that making time for this type of self-assessment is important. This is my way of saying; take time for yourself where you can really look at your life without distractions. Find your own retreat or ‘workation’, however it might take shape, where the work isn’t job-related but is work on yourself. Then take an actual break after, because if you’ve been working hard, you’ll need it!

Final Trip, 7.5g

Back to Jamaica, I figure I’ll finish where we did – the fourth and final trip. After facilitating for the second and third, I took part in this session as a tripper. The first three were in the evening but the final trip was to start in the afternoon so that there could be an outside and daylight option for those that wanted it. As well as the outdoor which would be a more sociable setting, there was an indoor option for those who wanted to do more internal personal work. I went for the indoor.

There was around 7 of us in the room, most people with doses of at least 5g, some going up to 9. We all lay down on and mats and music was played through a speaker. I can’t really comment on the music as I opted for headphones and put on a playlist by Mendel Kaelen – a psychedelic neuroscientist whose job it is to select music for people on psilocybin. I figured it should be fairly appropriate.

I was allowed to choose my own dose and went for 7.5 grams. I know that might sound like a lot but I have a really high tolerance to psilocybin and I’d guess that 7.5g for me is probably what 3g would be for the average person. After knocking back the capsules I went for the classic therapeutic procedure –  sleep mask and headphones – and tried to relax myself as much as possible.

About 2 hours in the vivid sight of a family member on their deathbed came to me. I could see them so clearly that I could see the lines on their face. I felt sadness and fear at their imminent passing and started to cry. I tried to cry quietly to not disturb the others in the room, but at the same time to let it go. As I cried, I felt a hand softly rubbing me on my back. It was one of the facilitators, their touch told me “It’s ok for you to feel that sadness, it’s OK for you to cry. You are OK here”. After probably 10, 15 (?) minutes the sadness and accompanying tears eased up. I dried my eyes, blew my nose, and lay waiting to see if there was more to come. After a short time I could feel there was no more – the chapter had ended and the sadness had passed. And I kinda needed a pee.

I got up and went to the bathroom. I still had the Kaelen playlist playing in my ears but the purging was done and I was in a different space – I had a real urge to listen to some dirty riffs and big ass pumping rock tunes. Time to go off playlist. I grabbed a lighter from the kitchen and then went out on to the back balcony where I remembered there was a half a joint that had been hanging out there for a couple of days. I didn’t realise it before but I knew it now: that joint was waiting for me. I pulled up a seat to get a view of the lush green landscape and interrupted a soft and soothing tune for some Japandroids – crunching garage punk rock with anthemic choruses. Cranking the volume as the intro began, I lit up that joint.

Ah man. Glorious. The sweet ganja washed over me with a warm fuzz that somehow fused with the gnarled distortion on the guitars, and in a crazy life-affirming haze of noise, I felt fucking great. I heard the detail of the tone on those guitars like I haven’t heard in a long time and I closed my eyes tight, feverishly bumping my head to a beat that was pumping me up with a fresh lust for life, simultaneously satisfying and whetting my appetite for adventure and exploration. Wild, ecstatic, euphoric. It was reminiscent of my first ever trips and again reminded me that all life is an adventure, the message echoed by the chorus flying through my headphones…

“It ain’t shit, it’s just kicks… And like the world I’m going on and on and on.”

Now I know that might sound like some cheap adolescent wisdom but it’s a message that is much needed when life starts to seem heavy and a little too serious – ultimately life is nothing, it’s just kicks… pressure’s off, don’t sweat it too much, go explore and have fun.

Message received, I jammed out to another stone-cold rocker on the balcony as the rest of the group did a final meditation inside. The closing of the meditation signalled the end of the formal session, and we headed for the beach to meet up with the outdoor group.

We arrived at the beach to find the others already there, some in the sea, some exploring the nearby terrain. I found a spot to lie on the sand and got comfortable. “Inspiration and beauty for the next half hour!” Eric said announcing the immediate schedule. As I looked out to the colours starting to appear over the horizon, I had to agree. I lay there smiling to myself until Kristjan, an Estonian retreater with a brilliant accent that I’d come to love over the course of the retreat, appeared from behind a mound of sand. He wandered over with a characteristic smile and typically perfectly rolled joint in hand. Holding it up, he asked “Wanna try some of this sweet hash?”

As advertised, it was sweet. As was pretty much everything else about that evening on the beach. I caught up with the others about their journeys as we bobbed on the waves, and shared joints over conversations about dreams and the world. After the sun had set we made it back inland for dinner where Shane let our table in on some more of his crazy brilliant ideas. Engaging and heartfelt conversation over dinner with good people, before stepping out to gaze up at the full moon. What else can I say? It was the perfect end to the retreat.

The post Mycological Magic In Jamaica: Psychedelic Development & Essential Inspiration appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

Freetown Christiania

On my first day I visited Copenhagen’s counterculture haven: Freetown Christiania – a self-proclaimed autonomous anarchist district in the borough of Christianshavn. An abandoned military base that was taken over by squatting hippies in the 70’s, around 1000 people live in the area making up a community that has its own rules and where decisions are made through meetings.

It was my second time to visit and on arriving at ‘pusher street’ I was taken back to my first visit, 5 years ago, by the pungent smell of hash that fills the air there. Yes, weed and hash are openly sold and smoked there. It reminded me of Uruguay with people freely toking in public. Pretty cool.

See no evil, hear no evil…

I love the ideas and values that Christiania represents so it was great to be in that environment. I walked by the canal, got some green from a friendly seller, smoked a little too much weed and then walked around Neuhavn slightly paranoid before returning to Christiania to meet a friend for a veggie dinner. The food was great, paranoia less so. Ha. All good in the end.

Neuhavn

On the Friday I attended a tripsitting workshop (yes, that’s a thing now), spent Saturday and Sunday at the Psychedelic Symposium, and on Monday I went to see Daniel Pinchbeck talk about Social Ecology at a gallery in Christiania. These were all awesome and warrant their own posts – more to come.

Kierkegaard & Existentialism

On Tuesday I visited the graveyard of Søren Kierkegaard. Born in Copenhagen, Kierkegaard was the founder of the philosophical school of existentialism and I took the opportunity to explore some of his ideas whilst there. I’m really glad I did, taking time for philosophy is always rewarding. Very briefly, here are some ideas from him I enjoyed that I thought would be fun to share.

“Truth Is Subjectivity”
Kierkegaard didn’t believe in the utmost importance of objective absolute Truth, but rather of personal truth – how one relates oneself to Truth – and what you experience subjectively: feelings and emotions. 4+4=8 may be an objective truth, but is it as important to your existence and experience of life as how you feel today? Maybe you’re nervous for a first date, or pissed because someone cut in front of you in line. These feelings are crucial to how we experience life, and are what make up our existence – they are ‘existential’. They are our lived truth.

Kierkegaard’s grave

“The Crowd Is Untruth”
At odds with the prevailing intellectual norms of his time, Kierkegaard was a loner and what we would now call a non-conformist. As a social critic he challenged many widely held beliefs of his time and told us that just because an idea is broadly accepted does not give it a sense of credibility – it actually points to the probability that it is an untruth. The individual should never defer one’s personal responsibility to the crowd – he must think for himself.

The Individual
Naturally then, Søren emphasised the importance of the individual. He proposed that each individual—not society or religion—is solely responsible for giving meaning to life and living it passionately and sincerely, or “authentically”. He highlighted the importance of personal choice and commitment. Here are a couple of quotes I enjoy that this brought to mind:

“A sensitive and honest-minded man, if he’s concerned about evil and injustice in the world, will naturally begin his campaign against them by eliminating them at their nearest source: his own person. This task will take his entire life.” – Fernando Pessoa

“There is only one corner of the universe you can be certain of improving, and that’s your own self” – Aldous Huxley

Yes, I love quotes. Here’s one more from Kierkegaard himself which I think is totally relevant today:

“Most men pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that they hurry past it.”

Yep. Think about that for a minute.

9/20: Psilocybin & Hash

My last day in Copenhagen was Wednesday 20th September, or 9/20 – Psilocybin mushroom day. Not as celebrated as 4/20 or bicycle day yet but of course, I was down.

I tried ‘Lemon Tek’ – mixing dried ground shrooms with fresh lemon juice and letting them soak for 30 minutes before knocking it back. Lemon Tek is supposed to intensify the trip but the shrooms I had were quite weak so I can’t really comment on that. I will say that it was a nice way to consume them though.

3g and a hash joint sent me into a spacious, thoughtful, and analytical headspace as I lay in bed listening to ragas by Ravi Shankar. My stream of thoughts was moving quickly and I used the time to think some things through that have been on my mind recently – related to my personal life and my life’s direction – with a nice level of insight and novelty. I didn’t plan on this type of session going into the trip but it naturally went there so I went with it. This main part of the trip was very mentally stimulating and felt productive, though there has since been a level of amnesia that I suspect came from the hash.

Tasty chunk of hash

There were too, of course, ventures into some broader themes. ‘One must be capable of standing alone’ is a note I have scrawled in my pad from the session – Kierkegaard’s emphasis on the individual and how it relates to independence clearly came through. I love when an idea really hits home like this, it’s so satisfying.

As the thought-spurring effects of the hash faded off, I tuned in more to the music. Some of Ravi’s sitar lines just seemed to embody the essence of ‘play’. I could almost see the music as a child dancing. Very fun.

Three takeaways from the trip:

1. When taken with a low dose, hash is good fuel for a thinking, analytical trip. Probably good for a problem solving session or making a plan of action.
2. Noise cancelling headphones are the shit.
3. Ravi Shankar’s The Spirit Of India is awesome.

Celebrating Mushroom Day – A 9:20 Event

After coming down I had a cup of tea with a couple of friends and we cycled to a massive old shipyard-warehouse for an event celebrating International Mushroom day. Outside of the city to the East, we pulled up to the container leaking flashing lights and pumping music. Upon entering I was greeted by a friendly Norwegian guy who straight up told me he had some mushrooms I could eat for free. Ha. I told him thanks and that maybe I’d find him later.

The warehouse was a huge indoor skatepark that had been separated into different areas. In the main area was a DJ and dancefloor, psychedelic visuals projected onto a wall, and an organic smoothie and tea bar. The event was alcohol-free and I guess this might have played a part in the nicely balanced ratio of guys and girls. The atmosphere was chilled and friendly though I can’t say much for the Danish climate at that time of night – a little too chilled.

The event was in celebration of these treasures

There was a foam pool (the kind that skaters can practice tricks into) that people were swinging from a rope into, another area showing documentaries on psychedelics with mattresses for people to lie down on, and an outside area with a fire for people to sit around and chat whilst passing doobs. Having not yet truly partaken in mushroom day, my friends got into the spirit of the event and we ended up staying for a while and settling by the fire before finally heading home in the early hours. Overall it was a fun event and I hope to go to more like it in the future.

The cycle home was littered with stops to ‘appreciate the beauty’ and by the time we’d arrived home and said our goodbyes I had just enough time to pack my bag and have a coffee before heading to the airport for my morning flight home.

What a week. Copenhagen, thank you!

The post Copenhagen: Anarchy, Existentialism & Magic Mushroom Day appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

If I had to describe salvia as a character it’d be the cosmic joker. He’ll flip you upside down inside out, pull your pants down and then whizz you on a merry-go round tour of the freakshow corners of the cosmos. He’ll suck you through a swirly straw to his lair, scream in your face, lick your ass crack and then spit you back out whilst he cackles in the background.

Sound weird? It is.

Amongst my experiences, the only things that have matched salvia in terms of brute intensity and weirdness are DMT, and nitrous oxide when combined with LSD and MDMA.

The salvia plant

Not Fun

I’ve smoked salvia a few times in my life, and like 99% of people who try it, did not find it a fun or enjoyable experience. As such its not one that most people really feel drawn back to. This is also true for myself yet I’ve returned a few times purely for reasons of psychonautic curiosity. Here I’m going to recount my first and most intense experience, now many years ago, which was also my first ever truly powerful drug experience (whilst salvia is a hallucinogen, its not a psychedelic – it’s a dissociative).

Background

I was in my final year of university, some of my housemates had bought an at-the-time legal drug called salvia from a local head shop. I had no idea what salvia was or what it would do. None of us did. But I thought sure, why not? I’m curious and like new experiences. A couple of friends had smoked it before me up in one of their rooms, taken small hits and felt a slight head high. They came down and one of them told me I should take as big a hit as possible. Two factors led me to the freaky ass experience that would totally kick my ass; the first was that I listened to my friend’s advice, the second was that being in the prime stoner era of my life, I was completely fluent in bong use and had the lung capacity for huge hits (a skill that would serve me well years later for breaking through on DMT). So with a few friends sat around my room watching, I filled my lungs, and held it in ’til I could hold no more.

Hysteria —> Reality Shattered

As I exhaled I felt reality caving in at the sides. I lifted my right hand up in front of me and my fingers grew out long like Mr. Stretch, extending and flopping about. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! I started laughing, I was amazed that this was possible.

Then it happened; I got the baseball bat in the face that salvia will knock you out with.

The room collapsed in on itself, the walls merged and I went to some dark place with white lights spinning around me – this place wasn’t governed by any of the same laws or principles of physics or gravity that I was accustomed to, I saw lines of light in shapes that were inverting like the double rotations of a tesseract –  it was totally weird. I felt like my brain had been turned inside out and I’d been spun around a million miles an hour. My perception became hazy and confused, scattered all over the place – I was fucked. I don’t really remember more of what happened here but my friends told me that after my initial giggles I began to laugh hysterically like a total madman. Apparently I was laughing so hard that it didn’t even sound like someone laughing anymore – I was shout-laughing ‘HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!’. Then in a split-second, I stopped laughing, and a look of panic came onto my face.

Total Confusion

Salvia had smashed me so hard that at this point I’d completely forgotten that I’d even smoked anything. I wasn’t even really aware of who or where I was. Salvia had stripped me of my identity and memory and then tossed me back into the room dazed and confused. Salvia will do this – it will let you have your memories and identity back, but not immediately, only slowly- gradually filling in the blanks over a few minutes. Spat back out from Salvia’s whirlwind I was aware that I was a guy with some friends in a room, but not much else. Instinctively I was trying to make make sense of my situation, to fill in the blanks and find some context. Sweating a little, I felt paranoid – they all knew something that I didn’t (which was true, they all knew what was actually going on). These guys were all sat down and looking at me. I realised that I was the only one standing up.
‘You guys are all sitting down’ I said, recognizing a pattern. ‘Can I sit down too?’
They told me I could and I took a seat. Then it came back to me that the room we were in was my bedroom. ‘Actually this is my room, isn’t it? Yeah, this is my room. Get out, this is my room, get out!’
And as my confused friends started leaving the room I added…

‘….except for Paul, cause he’s recording guitars’. Around that time I was recording songs on my laptop with Paul, and by some weird quirk that knowledge had vaguely re-entered the back of my mind.

I sat down again and over the next few minutes everything came back to me – who I was, where I was, and most importantly, the missing piece of the puzzle that made everything else make sense – that I’d smoked some crazy ass drug that had completely fucked me over. If someone had told me that earlier I think the whole experience would’ve been less confusing. I went back out and invited my friends back into my room and we all had a laugh over the ridiculous episode.

Back To Earth

After the relief of knowing what the hell was going on again and calming down, I was still totally blown away by the whole experience. This was my entry into extreme non-ordinary forms of consciousness and I had well and truly jumped in at the deep end. While the trip wasn’t enjoyable in itself, it was still mind blowing. I couldn’t believe how smoking an obscure plant could alter my perception of reality so much. For the next hour I was hyped up and couldn’t stop talking about it.

Notes on Salvia

My subsequent smokes of salvia, whilst not matching my original in terms of intensity, do share a few common attributes.
– Being so caned that I forget that I’ve even taken a drug
– Confusion – very foggy and unclear perception, unsure of what’s actually going on
– Distorted sense of gravity (& other fundamental laws of physics)
– Salvia signature – there is a weird ‘salvia-ness’ to the feeling. Inexplicable, but I think the strong distinctive (and horrible) taste of salvia adds to this, its like the backdrop to the whole thing.
– Did I mention, freaky? (Great strange trip report on reddit here)

Parting Advice

If you are smoking salvia, be prepared, it’s pretty full on. It you want your return to be a little more comfortable, I suggest having a friend there to remind you that you’ve taken salvia, reassure you that you’ll be fine and return to normal, and so in the meantime – dive into the experience and see what you see.

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Have you smoked salvia? Let us know your thoughts on this bizarre herb in the comments below.

The post My Mindmelting Salvia Trip appeared first on Maps of the Mind.

To summarize, it was:

• Overwhelming – Monumental scale
• Utterly bizarre – As I said during the trip – ‘just fucking absolutely insane’
• Unimaginably complex – Mind. Blown.
• Interdimensional travel – I didn’t get ‘high’, ‘fucked up’, or ‘wasted’. It was as if I was zapped through a wormhole to a different universe.

Preparation

I approached the experience with great curiosity and respect. I wanted a full breakthrough experience and did my homework on the technique. I had a friend sit for me in a quiet, empty apartment and spoke with him about my expectations beforehand. I meditated directly before. And I filmed the whole thing, so I could get a sense of timeline, see myself through the experience, and so I could start talking about the experience as soon as possible and have my thoughts captured – it is well known that the experience slips away very quickly and becomes hard to recall, like a dream. It worked, so I’ve written this with the aid of notes and the video footage.

Smoking

I took the first huge hit, things started feeling wobbly. I took the second and my vision started becoming warped and I could tell it was really kicking off. I handed the bong to my friend because I could tell it would be difficult to hold for much longer. McKenna’s advice ran through my mind, that even though it really doesn’t feel like you need anymore, you need to push for the third hit to fully break through. My friend held the bong and lit for the third hit while I inhaled. I lay back and closed my eyes.

Blank

At this point I can’t remember what happened. Total blank. Here there is a period of 3 minutes that are unaccounted for and missing from my memory. The video shows me lying with my eyes closed and still breathing just as if I were asleep. The next thing I became aware of was an uncomfortable sensation. I wasn’t sure what it was or where it came from and it took me an eternity to think of what I needed, and then as I opened my eyes, the word that I was looking for came to me. With much struggle I faintly mumbled the word ‘water’ – my throat was dry as hell. My friend jumped up and handed me a glass of squash, at which point I threw up into my mouth, but I was still on another plane – brilliant streams of luminous colour shot out like lightning as I vomited. My buddy grabbed a bowl and held it in front of me while I spewed. It was quick and I lay back again. It was from this point that I again became aware that I had taken DMT. As I lay back and closed my eyes, I entered another universe.

Weird, Intense, Beyond Comprehension

Completely insane. Utterly alien. Wholly bizarre. So far removed from any other type of experience I’ve ever had. Next level freaky. This was interdimensional travel to a parallel universe, another tunnel of reality. Everything was of colours I’ve never seen before and at an unfathomable level of complexity and detail. I was entirely overwhelmed by the scale of what I was experiencing. It was information overload and then some. This wasn’t a human experience, humans aren’t capable of perceiving this much information.

I’ll try to explain it by way of analogy. Imagine your brain is plugged in to a machine that feeds you every single living person’s experience of the world, at the same time. So you are plugged in to 7 billion pairs of eyes and ears, every thought, emotion and feeling – receiving all that information as it is happening in real time. As well, you get a live feed of every single computer that is running, plus a direct download of the entire contents of the internet- every page, video, photo- every last piece and byte of information. You then make connections between all of this information and how it all relates to build a real time, continually shifting picture of reality in an immersive experience. DMT is on that level in the informational sense, and more bizarre than I can think of a way to describe.

Getting past the initial shock I began to come to terms with the experience and drew long deep breaths. I lay there and admired the DMTverse in awe.

The DMTverse

It was a grand expansive space – dark but shot through with brilliant colours. The fabric of everything was made up of incredible and perfectly mathematical patterns. I had a panoramic view of some kind of organic factory, I saw massive cogs made of an earth-like substance churning. The whole scene was forever subtly shifting, metamorphosing and with absolute synergy between all things – everything moved in accordance with everything else and energy seemed to be flowing symbiotically between all things. Everything was overflowing with life and energy. I saw inscriptions of letters from an alien alphabet that seemed to have been made by intelligent life. And then I was in a…

City Of The Future

Everything was so advanced. I’m not talking flying cars or impressive gadgetry or any technology that we might imagine humanity might ever possess. I’m not even talking how it might be if we were to time travel and show a smartphone to a caveman. The jump in the level of complexity was like the gap between the first formations of atoms in the earliest stages of the formation of the universe, through the birth of stars and the formation of solar systems, to when molecules combined to create living organisms. Entropy over 9 billion years, then. It’s hard to fathom how anyone could even experience this, but that’s the mystery of DMT.

“It may be that DMT makes us able to perceive what physicists call “dark matter” – the 95 per cent of the universe’s mass that is known to exist but that at present remains invisible to our senses and instruments.”
– Graham Hancock

Somehow Sober

What’s interesting is that I maintained a sober cognition and consciousness throughout the experience. It was unique to other drugs in this regard. For example, when I drink alchohol I get inebriated and my cognition gets sloppy, with MDMA I feel euphoria and more loved up, when I smoke weed I get stoned or high and sometimes anxious, with salvia I’ll get confusion. However, with DMT, there was no ‘druggy’ effect, not dazed, confused, fucked up – it was just like I had been zapped through a portal into a parallel universe. Like my consciousness had just been picked up by a cosmic deity and thrown out into a world that was wholly other. Whereas other drugs enhance our existing reality – dulling it, numbing us to certain sensations, or amplifying it, making colours more vivid or lines more wavy – this was just transition to a different reality.

If you’ve ever seen the 90’s movie Contact, that’s a great analogy. You really do go through the wormhole on that inter-dimensional journey that Jodie Foster goes on. In fact I felt so much that that part of the movie was the perfect analogy for the experience that I googled it after to see if anyone else had made the same connection, and sure enough, loads of other people had commented the exact same thing.

Real?

Is the experience real? I don’t think anyone can really answer that question but I can say how it felt. It felt absolutely real. It felt more real than anything else I’ve ever experienced – including my experience of typing this at my computer right now. This is where you start to go down the rabbit hole. I’ve had hallucinations from other drugs, like mind-movies, but this was nothing like that. Like I said before, it was as if I were just in another place. It wasn’t as if I was observing pictures or patterns, but that I was IN another universe, which is actually a deeper level of reality – deeper in the sense that it’s truer than the one we normally inhabit.

Plato’s Allegory Of The Cave

If it really is a deeper level of reality, Plato’s Allegory of the Cave is the perfect analogy. The world as we understand it in a normal waking consciousness is the cave, a normal person is the prisoner, and DMT is what drags the prisoner upwards and out of of the cave. I see the part of my trip which is blank in my memory as the part in which the prisoner is blinded by the radiant light of the sun and is unable to see even one of the things now said to be true.

This fits in with the DMT experience being far richer and more detailed than our everyday experience.

No Contact

People often report contact with other entities and beings. To be clear, nothing like that happened to me. Everything seemed to be teeming with life and energy but I didn’t have any communication or contact with beings of any kind.

Ineffable, Unimaginable

DMT is the definition of ineffable. Trying to describe it seems akin to trying to describe colours to a blind person. That’s why I’ve used so many analogies and said things that don’t totally make sense here. That’s DMT for you. There is simply no imagining what it’s like. If you want a peek behind the cosmic curtain you’ll just have to go see for yourself.

Had your DMT trip, but can’t remember shit?
Read more: How to Integrate a Difficult-to-Remember DMT Experience

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The post My Breakthrough DMT Trip (And Thoughts On It) appeared first on Maps of the Mind.