Hi,
I’m a recent spice initiate and posted an account of my first experience here on the nexus. I got one response in more than a week, and I’ve been worrying that this was because I hadn’t written a proper introduction. I also worried that you all thought I was a shithead. The reason I didn’t write this sooner was simply because i’m not used to forums (I’m getting on a bit), and I was instinctively cagey of saying too much.
So, hello to all. I think this place is the most incredible thing, and that I’m glad to live in a time where this can happen. It seems to me that this is what the internet is for. I am awestruck by the atmosphere of support and kinship that pervades this area, and am humbled by it. So, for what it’s worth, here is my introduction:
I’m 40, and have a varied career background in recreational substances; I smoked hash and grass regularly since I was 13, and began using LSD and ‘shrooms at around 14 (from aged 17-19, to be honest, I didn’t do much else).
At aged 19, I discovered ‘E’, and thought it was rather splendid. This was the late 80’s/early 90’s, and let’s face it, it was splendid. Then it got trodden on.
I lived in London during the 90s, and got sucked into the cocaine thing. It took a while, but eventually I saw that I’d become a dickhead, and then I did nothing at all for ten years, while I got myself correct again. Then a colleague asked me if I had heard of ‘the spirit molecule’…
Academically, I did ok, I suppose. I have zero school qualifications because I dropped out of school at 14. Instead my friends and I formed a band and lived in a shed. Later, I got enough ‘A’ levels to go to university and I studied philosophy, in particular philosophy of mind, science and religion. This really was formative and my favourite was the sublime Aristotle, whom I still reckon must be the greatest genius of all time.
However, when I was 17 (some 8 years before university), a lady I knew put a book, almost literally, into my hands: ‘The Teachings of Don Juan: a Yacqui Way of Knowledge’, by Carlos Casteneda. It would be no understatement to say that this was a watershed point. The lessons imparted by don Juan resonated with me immediately, intuitively and, at times, devastatingly. There were times that I contemplated suicide because I could not match up to those standards. Now I know better, but as a teenager it was a tough road to travel.
So….
My friend (and he will always will be), asked me if I knew about DMT. I didn’t. Nothing at all; I had never heard of it. He explained the facts, and I did some reading. I consulted my ex-girlfriend (a PHD in bio-mechanics), who was cautious but admitted that the literature contained nothing seriously risky in doing spice.
As stated earlier, I have what I consider to be quite extensive experience with LSD and mushrooms. All told, I have done about 300 heavy trips on one or the other, and have never had a bad time. However, I’ve not experienced anything remotely like what happened under DMT, and it has thrown me into a philosophical /existential conundrum that I’ve yet to make sense of. I will write more once I’ve travelled a bit more. Until then….
But that’s the point. That’s what prompted me to write after all this time: mystery. What follows is my account of my first and second DMT experiences. There may be contradictions and inconsistencies, but I have written the most objective account I possibly can, because the majority of what transpired defies explanation. If there is any apparent disparity between subjective/objective, phenomenal/noumenal or, tonal/nagual, then this is entirely intentional. Yes sir.
DMT Trips 1 & 2 : September 9th 2011 10-11pm apprx.
1st Dose.
I took my second hit from the bottle and, holding the smoke in my lungs, glanced at my two companions (L and A) as I lay down. There was immediately a vivid pattern of multi-coloured crosses overlaid over everything in the room, and I recall thinking ‘Oh yeah, this is definitely working’. I closed my eyes and exhaled.
The speed with which I was aware of having an incomparably powerful hallucinatory experience was startling, and intimidating. Before I could even attempt to make sense of what I was seeing, I felt that I was in the presence of what I can only describe as a feminine Buddah who had coalesced out of the Mandlebrot Set. I felt utterly helpless and abashed in this presence and a kind of conversation took place, during which I felt that I was being reminded of my smallness and arrogance. Despite the impression of total authority which this figure conveyed, the tone was non-threatening and kind. I heard myself say quite distinctly, ‘I will remember to be humble’, although L and A later told me I had said nothing at all out loud, apart from quietly saying ‘wow’ (I’m told I also smiled several times).
The entity then seemed to move away, toward my right, and I felt my head move on the pillow as I attempted to see where she was going. The sensation of this movement had the effect of making me aware of my body and I became unable to keep my eyes closed. This was a little frustrating because I felt very strongly that this had caused the trip to end prematurely. I turned to look at L and A and realised that I was at least still tripping; their faces were both changing before my eyes, the walls were ‘breathing’, the duvet cover on the bed was changing its pattern etc., but all in much more vivid and involuntary ways than those I had experienced with other psychedelics.
I felt quite disorientated for a short time, and had a little difficulty speaking clearly. It was as if everything I tried to say sounded wrong. I also had a nagging feeling that L and A would be disappointed with me, as if I had squandered an opportunity by opening my eyes and messing up the trip. In addition, I felt some residual fear associated with the awesome impression of power that the fractal-Buddah conveyed. None of this, however, was particularly unpleasant and in fact was strangely amusing; it was certainly important to have L and A as a reception committee, and to be able to talk through the experience immediately with seasoned practitioners.
Within 10 or fifteen minutes, all effects had gone except for a slightly increased heart rate. I had a few lingering thoughts: firstly that the trip had certainly not been all it could have been due to my inability to keep my eyes closed (it bothered me that the lighting in the room may have contributed to the shape and colours of the Buddah-entity); secondly, that I had spoken of fractals earlier in the evening, and therefore it would not be unreasonable for a thorough-going sceptic to suggest that of course my unconscious would generate an hallucination couched in images with which I am familiar.
It was as I was contemplating all this that A asked me if I wanted to take another dose. I had little hesitation in saying ‘oh yes’ (L and A explained that the first dose was already out of my body), and we all agreed that I should be blindfold this time in order that ambient/environmental intrusions could be eliminated as much as possible.
2nd Dose.
I took the second hit of smoke and pulled the mask over my eyes as I reclined on the bed. I exhaled and was immediately in a very large tunnel-like space. Something was coming toward me (which I later described as ‘The Bee’), and I was certain that this entity was both greeting and assessing me. At the same time two things happened: first, a multitude of coloured shapes surrounded The Bee, who remained in a more or less central position in my field of view; second, I was aware of a thrumming sound, deep and resonant, which rapidly increased in volume until it was overpowering. The Bee was looking directly at and into me, and much like the entity in my first trip, seemed to be advising me to appreciate the enormity of what was happening, and furthermore to be prepared for this encounter. I remember replying, but my voice sounded so odd (as if slowed down) that I became preoccupied with this oddness and forgot what I had said. Instead I wished to take a closer look at this being, and to pass the test which it seemed to be carrying out.
Unlike the Buddah, which was undefined and seemed to evade direct scrutiny, this entity was incredibly vivid and seemed happy for me to look as closely as I wished; it remained hovering in front of me, amidst this seething, swarming mass of colour and sound. At this point, I do not recall being in any way aware of my body or the corporeal world. I was utterly ‘there’; awestruck, scared and small, but also amused and intrigued by the sheer alien-ness of what I was seeing. There was no sense of threat whatsoever, simply an awareness of being in the presence of a power beyond comprehension.
I realised that this being had been there at the beginning of my first trip, and that in some way The Bee and I were bound together. I understood this intuitively and with complete certainty.
I was ready to go on, but something which I cannot remember began to bring me back to the room. I felt suddenly anxious, and preoccupied with thoughts of my dog; I saw her waiting for me back home, worried about my whereabouts, and lonely. I moved my hands to my face to remove the mask, but stopped momentarily to investigate the strangeness of how my hands felt. When after a few seconds I did lift the mask, I sat up, looked at L and A, and said ‘what is that?’. Their laughter made it clear that they knew precisely what I meant, i.e. that faced with something so stupefyingly odd, profound and alien, words are woefully inadequate. I had lost all sense of the passage of time and for a while I was preoccupied with checking my watch to reassure myself that I had not left my dog alone too long. This took only a short time and while the residual ‘trippy’ effects subsided we again discussed what I had experienced. Within 30 minutes or so I was completely sober and able to drive home, whereupon I slept soundly for the first time in 3 months or so.
I write this account roughly 42 hours after my DMT experience. Since then, I have been unable to stop thinking about what happened. I feel somehow renewed, as though cobwebs have been blown away from my mind. I am a reasonably imaginative person, but I cannot see how my conscious mind could construct anything as singular as that which I encountered under the influence of DMT. Likewise my dreams tend to be quite memorable and peculiar, however the setting in which they take place is fundamentally quotidian; I might find myself flying, for example, but the environment in which this takes place is nevertheless recognisably ‘of this world’. I am simply unable to make sense of it, and that is itself a kind of consolation to me, as if my naïve urge to impose ordinary-world rationality on this experience was to completely miss the point.
I do know this, though: I want to go back there.
September 2011.