"Psychedelic Experiences," March 19, 7pm, Port 393, Holland

Next gathering: “Psychedelic Experiences,” with Chris Teague, March 19, 7pm, Port 393, Holland, MI

You can listen to my first conversation on psychedelics with Chris Teague here.

On Being with Krista Tippett dropped a new episode recently and it was all about psychedelics. Gül Dölen, neuroscience professor at U.C. Berkeley and Johns Hopkins, is featured. You can find it here.

Next week Thursday, Chris and I will be focusing on the experience of a psychedelic journey. We’ll review the neuroscience of psychedelics and then focus on the experience of a psychedelic journey. Before the journey: mindset/intentions, setting/location, breath work, diet, etc. During the journey: trust, be open, let go. After the journey: integration through meditation, conversation, writing, therapy.

Chris and I also have some personal experiences with psychedelics that we are excited to share. There is a lot to be hopeful about in the realm of psychedelics.

Here is a taste of my one and only full psychedelic journey.

I had my first psilocybin (magic mushrooms) journey about a month ago. My first memory of this journey, which lasted about four hours, was the fierce and safe presence of indigenous women. My intention for this experience, the question I posed was the following: How do I hold anger and compassion together? Is there anything out there or in me that I can call upon for strength? In this journey, anonymous indigenous women were the holders of strength and wisdom. They were more presence or energy than image, meaning I felt them much more than I saw them. I don’t know why my journey was overseen by these indigenous wisdom. Admittedly, my disdain for patriarchy probably has something to do with it. Incidentally, if you were to ask me if I think that these indigenous women exist, I wouldn’t know what to say. And alas, this was part of the lesson.

For four hours, I was mostly quiet. I was in my basement, lying on a mattress with a face mask on, at least most of the time. I cried a lot, but not in the way you might think. I wasn’t sobbing. It was more like the tears that flow when you are stunned by beauty or by loss, the ones that stream with great ease. It’s like they took my pain, my anger, my suffering and moved it from my chest and into my heart. And as they did so, I melted.

I mean that as literally as I can because in a variety of ways, my guides invited me and at times forced me to dissolve. It was scary; but, also, it wasn’t. Because it felt good to let go and to melt into whatever was around me. Except when I was forced to melt in with some loved ones (don’t remember who, exactly) and also Jeffrey Epstein (now you understand why I don’t remember who else I melted into)!

At one point I recall saying to my guide, Chris, “I’m having trouble letting go of Luci.” Luci is my youngest daughter. I can’t picture the scene that must have been before me. I only have the memory of saying this, and the feeling of holding onto her, not wanting to let her go, fearing that she won’t be ok. It’s the feeling of knowing with great certainty that we cannot protect the ones we love. The world is not a place of certainty. It never has been and it never will be. Suffering is destiny. The weight of feeling the weight of that truth is overwhelming. It feels like you cannot survive it. But then you let go. And you melt. And you’re ok.

On one level, I cannot stop mining these experiences for meaning. On another level, the meaning was in the experience, what the experience did to me. So the indigenous women are real because they gave me an experience that changed me. They changed me through intense feelings and profound emotional reflection. And it has me thinking that the deepest wisdom is felt.

I’ll share more next week.