Several years ago; I think, the winter of '99-2000, I spent several weeks in a traditional setting and doing 'the diet'. There was a shorter follow up visit in 2003. I've had no other experiences with nn dmt until my first smoke - about ten months ago. I had frequent lsd and mushroom experiences in my teens and twenties but, am now 45 and have had a scant few reminder trips in the last 20 years. A recent resurgence of interest in self exploration and the exploration of consciousness has captured the bulk of my limited free time, as of late. My reawakened curiosity led me to order some yopo seeds with which I received a small (5gm) free sample of mhrb. I extracted it (Cyb's salt) and then waited for the first opportunity to vape. All thanks to knowledge gained here at the Nexus.
I have three young children and a demanding job so, the idea of vaping seems time effective but the chances to do so are still few and far between for me. The first moment it was possible (a full month after the extraction), I rushed to gather my things together. I ran for a futon pad in the basement studio and unceremoniously prepared to vaporize 15mg of pale yellow crystals. I used a cleaned glass mj pipe that hadn't seen any use in nearly two decades. I nested it in a small bed of basil on top of a single crumpled strand of copper scrubber and then all was capped with a ceramic flavor disc. I pre-melt and as I start to hit, not more than a few seconds in, my pipe was covered in brightly luminous patterns that I recognized from my time with the Shipibo. A high pitched carrier wave, accompanied by an impending sense of doom, overcomes me but I assume I haven't pushed myself far enough. I take a second hit, as I have been timid with the jet lighter for fear of burning the bowl. With the second hit, the carrier wave rises in pitch and intensity, I am utterly overwhelmed with dread. I try to shake it off but the feeling has me. MY first instinct is to run to try to escape it, I can only bring myself to all fours and frantically brush away at my head in attempts to make it go away. The closest I can imagine to describe this feeling is being with all of your most loved people and in some surprise situation, their throats are slit while you are helpless to change anything because it's too late.
As I collapse to the floor, I am transported to a shadowy image of my childhood neighborhood. The monotonous call of a migratory bird outside my window is superimposed over a trip to the darker side of my early memories. I have a distinct feeling of being the child who was fractioned off from the rest of my waking consciousness. Memories of abuse filled me but not as memories of the remote past, memories I was in the midst of. I wandered the neighborhood (or was transported through it) and stopped in front of the houses of other children who were abused. I lived in the present tense of hushed voices of horrified neighborhood children who knew what was happening to some of us but were powerless to do anything. The sort of things that are quickly stricken from the conscious mind. I heard the torturous voices of the abusers but in a compressed sort of garble/growl as the bird call was setting the temporal meter.
As I regained some of my normal senses, I felt enraged to have been given this experience. "Bullshit!", I shouted. I was so angry that I had spent so many years working through all this and had mostly felt these issues could lay to rest in a past that no longer had any any power or influence over my life. Still 'groggy', I noticed a large hornet trapped near the window and trying to get out. I didn't want to be stung in the state I was in so set it free from a glass capped by a piece of paper, in the back yard; quickly darting back into the house as I still felt as if I'd ingested a large dose of lsd and didn't want a chance encounter with a neighbor. And then, within minutes, waves of compassion roll over me. I then see that I've been reunited with a large section of my mind, and far from only bad memories.
I spent the following eight months enjoying the benefits of integration. I've not only gained some mindfullness and compassion with my family and coworkers but those have extended to recenter me and return an inner calm I've not had since I was raw fooder that meditated several hours a day. I have had the fortitude to improve my diet (at least to pescatarian with plans of going veg and then summertime raw fooder over the next couple years), and give up alcohol, tobacco, and very little coffee as these last two were my breakfast and lunch for several years. I began these healthier habits before this experience but attribute it, and reading here on the Nexus, to making it part of who I now am.
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Over the past couple of months, a dear old friend and tripping buddy has been in town for an extended visit. This has prompted another extraction and a couple more experiences. This time with a sitter, as we took turns. Once with 10mg and a few days later with 20mg. The smaller dose had no carrier wave and took several seconds to fully immerse myself into. CEV consisting of a central morphing column flanked by two oval fields, in which various activities were taking place, and an arabesque frame - like looking into half a magic walnut shell. Just outside the periphery were voices commenting on various aspects of my state of being and focus. I felt that this was what was significant and the visual field was a mere distraction. The voices felt locally generated and were something to observe as they were observing me. I avoided focus or interaction with any particular voice as I felt it would manifest in to some portal to some unpleasant mental masturbation of sorts. Avoiding this felt like a bit of a triumph for me and emboldened me to plan for a larger dose as my buddy was ready for one too.
A few days passed and my friend and I were ready. I premelted on a bed of mullein and blue lily with the same device as before and pulled the 20mg slowly and in a single hit. Again no carrier wave and several seconds to become absorbed by the experience. The same dread as my first trip and the same reflex to run and escape from it. A motif of 1970's style board game cards with animated cameos were crashing around in patterns that occasionally opened to reveal some pastoral image of a creek or a picket fence while disembodied heads of my childhood abusers floated over in cycles as their faces changed to match their age over years of abuse. I was in the time when their faces looked like that and it felt as if it was the only feeling I had ever felt. I was, again, the child who had been fractioned off. Five or six minutes in, I briefly opened my eyes to get out of it but was filled with fear of imprinting these feelings on my normal waking consciousness and the OEV were freaking me out as it was. As the cycle wore on, I also aged and became less and less vulnerable to these feelings. The disembodied heads became older with each cycle and I went through these years of buried memories and grew into adulthood and reacquired a certain sense of invulnerability to all this.
Within the rhythmic squall of sound I was able to pick out the buzzing of a hornet's wings which was one of the cameos on one of the cards which came through with each cycle. This was 15 minutes in to the trip and over the following 45 minutes, as I slowly returned to baseline, that hornet became my friend and ally. It reminded me of how disturbing it is for a very small child to have that feeling of having just been stung by a poisonous insect and watching it there on your body, fluttering it's wings, and there's nothing you can do, and it's horrible, and it's too late to change it. It became a metaphor for so many things in my life. How inconsequential the things in my life that upset and anger me in the grand perspective of these moments, like a tiny insect sting in the distant past. And how intense something can feel before you've outgrown the scale of it. I am certainly a more gentle and compassionate father and husband and, find myself much less argumentative and more content in general. I'm enveloped in warmth and calm whenever I remember this image of the hornet from my vision.
While these experiences were, for the most part, profoundly unpleasant, I owe a large part of my present sense of great well being to them. And, of course, to some daily reading here on the Nexus with all it's brave souls, fighting 'the good fight' and mastering 'the great work'. Thanks, so much, to all of you.
I plan to start incorporating harmalas in the near future (I certainly felt invincible during my time with the Shipibo) in the form of changa. Though, I will probably scale back to 10mg or so of dmt for a while. At least, until it becomes a bit more manageable. I am somewhat open to suggestions.
I'll apologize now if my schedule prohibits a timely response to any comments.
"We dance round in a ring and suppose,
while the secret sits in the middle and knows." Robert Frost