I felt the call to revisit hyperspace today - it's been a while. I've bought a house, and I'm about to have a baby. So I guess life is somehow serious at the moment.
My intention was to check-in & reset something.
Once I knew I was going to trip, I started feeling that fear again. 'You're about to obliterate the egos personal concepts.' I say to myself, 'It's no wonder you feel fear. Just breathe and observe.'
I noticed myself doing odd things suddenly, like picking specks of dust from the carpet. I set some intentions. 'I want to remember the profound joy of existence.' 'I want to say hello to existence.'
I weighed 30mg and loaded my vapour genie.
On the come up, I remembered the archetypical stages. Most of my journeys have followed the same structural pattern, even if the content varies wildly:
First, a tryptamine folding of space, and a calming. This time was flowers and pink pixels. Then the rush of the breakthrough and finding myself in impossible landscapes somehow familiar yet beyond imagination. Usually, this is accompanied by a connection to Gleeful entities and the physical sense of vibrational portals - archetypical visual information. Then, a step down into different spaces gradually fade back into the 'real' world.
On this trip, I was reminded that me - the thing I call me - a separate observing entity made up of a collection of stories, isn't separate at all. The act of knowing something isn't at all different between you and me. And knowing is the most fundamental thing.
Yet here I am, with my stories and desires, seemingly separate from you.
Personal stories and desires do not seem to matter objectively whilst tripping.
In the past, I have fallen into nihilism. If these stories and desires don't matter, then what does matter? Does Existence not care about 'me' at all?!
When I go into the DMT realm with personal problems, they are usually totally obliterated. The weight of all humanity living out our lives seems to be a speck of dust on the winds of time. This feels like an unbelievably profound discovery.
Surely I can't still be experiencing my life in a way that makes unimportant things seem like they matter?
I think the western idea that consciousness is an accident and the result of a random arrangement of matter in time is still deeply rooted in me somehow, even though I saw through that facade a long time ago.
Who the fuck knows anything?
It's all quite beautiful regardless of the words I use to describe things. I can be sure that I exist, life is beautiful, and love matters.
So why do I fear things?
This is a diary entry for myself. I don't often trip or post. But I'd love to hear if anything resonated with you.
Much love :-)
Much Love <3 xx