I blocked off Friday evening for another magic mushroom journey. For the two experiences last month, I used about 1.5g of dried mushrooms each time. This time I opted to take 4.2g, eating the dried mushrooms plain, starting at 5pm. I trust my intuition regarding how much to take, figuring this much could invite a fairly intense experience. It was actually super intense, way beyond what I experienced with ayahuasca and my two prior mushroom trips.
It really started kicking in after about 40 minutes. I put on an eye mask and laid back on the couch while listening to music. It flowed nicely at first with lots of red-orange visuals and a lovely vibe of opening up the flow of communication. Then it began to get really intense around 90 minutes in, and it stayed very intense for several more hours.
In this post I’m going to share about the experience and the insights with a thematic organization, so it makes more sense for you when reading it. This means I’m jumping around a lot in time relative to the flow of the actual experience to focus on one theme at a time. The actual experience was multi-layered with many aspects happening simultaneously.
Incredible Time Dilation
The journey took nine hours from start to finish but felt way longer. The time dilation was extraordinary. At some points it seemed like it took ridiculously long for the clock to advance just one minute. I remember seeing that it was exactly 10:00, then I’d float into more processing for a long stretch, and when I came to and looked at my watch again, it was still 10:00. So crazy! I remember that the 10 minutes from 10:00 to 10:10 felt like an eternity, like midnight must be years or even centuries away.
I knew that time dilation was common with psychedelics, but I didn’t expect it to be so extreme. It felt reassuring when the flow of time very gradually increased again, but it still wasn’t entirely back to normal when I went to bed a bit after 2am.
A Cosmic Roller Coaster Ride
I remember swearing aloud a lot during the experience from the intensity of it. It wasn’t so much emotionally or mentally intense. It was energetically and spiritually intense, like my energy matrix was being pulled and stretched and recoded from the inside. I kept drifting from an awareness of the physical world back into some state that felt like an absence of spacetime. Part of me actually liked that though.
Emotionally I didn’t feel fear, anxiety, shame, guilt, regret, or anything along those lines. It was like the sensation of being on a crazy long energetic roller coaster where you can’t predict the turns or dips very far in advance, and you just have to ride it out.
This particular rollercoaster crossed through multiple dimensions of existence. Some stretches of track went through the physical plane, some through dream-like visions and intense visuals, some through completely different dimensions of existence. Some parts were faster, some slower. And it felt like I was riding this coaster for a really long time, at least for hours if not days.
Physically that was very disorienting… so much dizziness and nausea. The worst part was the nausea, which stayed with me through around half of the experience. I kept trying to purge now and then, even putting my finger in the back of my throat several times to try to make myself vomit over a trash can, figuring I’d feel better afterwards. I gagged a bit but couldn’t release anything other than saliva. Even while trying to purge, I kept losing awareness of my body when the roller coaster ride would flow back into some other dimension of existence. It was like trying to purge while actively riding a rollercoaster – very difficult while the ride is still in motion and the physical sensations kept shifting. My physical body felt like it was in a state of confusion for much of this journey.
Sometimes I had to really focus hard to stay present to the physical world for a bit, like if I wanted to communicate something to Rachelle, and I couldn’t stay present to it for very long at a stretch.
I remember being very thirsty at one point and trying to remember how to get to the water. I had a glass of water on the couch arm’s cupholder behind me, but I wasn’t sure if it still existed when I couldn’t see it. My sense of spatial orientation kept shifting around, and I couldn’t tell if the water and I were in the same dimension sometimes. The physical universe was shifting around so much that it was like being in a Doctor Strange movie where objects and their relative positions are shifting around, so I can never really be too sure of where anything is.
It was like the uncertainty principle was on overdrive, like the water existed and didn’t exist at the same time, and when it did exist, its position was a field of possibilities, but it wasn’t required to be locked down into any position, perhaps because no one was looking at it in that moment. I didn’t have good control of my body at the time, so I couldn’t easily turn around to make the water appear.
Eventually I remembered that Rachelle was nearby and that she was probably in the same dimension as the water and might have an easier time accessing it. She wasn’t taking any substances (other than a salad) and helped me a lot through the experience. So I asked her if she could help by giving me the water glass – sometimes it was difficult to speak, but I got the words out and felt relieved when she acknowledged. It was amazing how easily she reached behind me and brought me the water glass, which felt like she was bringing it into my dimension, or maybe she was instantiating the water for me. Then I was able to drink some and hand the glass back to her. I think at that point the water went back into uncertainty or uninstantiated mode, like the idea of its existence was still there, but it was no longer physically present.
Just as I experienced some spatial disorientation, I had some time disorientation too, in addition to the time dilation. I remember feeling confused regarding what was past, present, and future while I was going through it. Sometimes I felt like I might be looping a bit, but then I focused on the music, which helped remind me that time was still advancing in a forward direction with the beats of the music.
There were so many different phases of this experience. I could probably fill several books from the post-experiential insights that come from further reflection. My current understanding is that what I went through was like an energetic or spiritual decluttering, similar to when I cleaned out my garage a few summers ago. There was no one main lesson to really understand or learn during this trip. It wasn’t a teaching session per se. And it wasn’t about healing. It was like I was cleaning up and refactoring old legacy code in my software.
The sensation of letting go and releasing what was no longer needed was a huge part of the experience. For much of it, I even felt like I was letting go and releasing energies on behalf of humanity or maybe from some other parts of the matrix, but in a way that didn’t feel like it was personal to my current human life. It wasn’t really about clearing out old memories or my personal past, although there was a small amount of that sensation present too. It felt more like cleaning out a multi-dimensional garage.
I even remember saying aloud things like, “Just let it all go,” and “Take it all away.” But most of the time I wasn’t aware of what “it” was that was being let go.
Occasionally, especially near the final hours, I became aware of invitations to do more specific processing that I could consciously understand, like releasing old energies from my first marriage. But mostly it was just a jumble of processing happening in ways that didn’t link to specific thoughts, feelings, or memories. The roller coaster mostly went through unfamiliar territory.
As I reflected on it afterwards, I sensed that the reason I couldn’t purge during the experience was that I wasn’t removing or eliminating. I was letting go of misaligned energy patterns but not the energy itself. So I wasn’t really shedding anything in the sense of getting rid of it. These old energy patterns were being reprocessed, recycled, repurposed, reorganized, reconfigured, etc. I sensed that the prolonged nausea was what the body experienced from the cleanup process, similar to how one might sneeze a bunch while cleaning out dusty items in a garage or how your body might create different physical sensations on a roller coaster ride. It was just part of the process, and all I could do was allow the body to have its reaction.
A bit later in the experience, I felt very in tune with the holographic nature of reality. I saw everything as being connected energetically, like everything we experience in life was layered on top of deeper layers, but all the layers were actually different representations of the same reality, just viewed from different angles. What happens in “real life” is the same as what happens in fiction, for instance. All that we experiences as humans is intricately linked together. Whether we go to work or watch a movie, we’re still experiencing the same underlying reality, just from different vantage points. We can have meaningful experiences through any kind of interface – through science, through fiction, or through science fiction – it’s all the same underneath anyway. It just that different interfaces filter the underlying reality so as to emphasize some features while downplaying others, causing us to notice more of some aspects and less of others. Hence using multiple interfaces can help us gain more info regarding the underlying reality. I.e. go to work and watch a movie too, and then seek to connect the dots between them because they really are connected.
I even saw how the Legend of Zelda games were an analogy for different aspects of our human lives, giving people the opportunity to explore their relationship with darkness and evil. I sensed that the design team actually knew this and deliberately made those games to serve humanity in this way… so we could do things like explore violence and heroism in ways that more people would find acceptable.
At one point I invited Rachelle to help me send love energy to Ganon (the bad guy in the Zelda games), knowing that the fictional character was a holographic projection of how humanity relates to its dark side. She laughed but agreed to go along with it. I knew it was fiction, but I also knew that energetically, it was also real… like how the Force from Star Wars is both fiction and a pointer to something real at the same time.
This insight resonates because when I was younger, I was inspired by Star Trek: The Next Generation to live my life somewhat like the characters on the show. No one had a regular job working to pay their bills, so I haven’t had a job in 30+ years. The inspiring invitation was to focus on doing interesting work, be an explorer, delve into meaningful relationships, be of service to humanity, stay aligned with your deepest values, and always choose to work on what feels purposeful and meaningful. Live like there’s no such thing as money because money just isn’t very important, and it’s silly to focus on it so much. Getting a job is fine but also unnecessary because the universe is so abundant and can create whatever we need. We just have to recognize the truth of that. We make it real by deciding to make it real.
It’s important for us to pay attention to inspiration wherever it comes from. Does it matter that I was inspired by a fictional world to live my life a certain way? No – because it’s all the same underlying reality as what we learn on the nonfiction side. Those same lessons could have come from anywhere.
Allowing Space for Evil While Retaining Freedom
I also realized that evil needs to win sometimes because it’s an important part of the experience of exploring evil. If evil could never have a victory, that wouldn’t be very fair, and no one would want to explore that aspect of reality. Reality isn’t so judgmental about it because it gets to explore evil from many different angles. Evil needs a chance to sometimes win in order for enough energy to be able to flow into exploring it. That perspective made me feel more compassionately towards what I might consider to be evil.
One reason we have so much fictional evil, such as in video games and movies, is so we can explore and experience a lot more of it without destabilizing the rest of our experiential reality. If someone goes too far in exploring evil to the point where everyone is enslaved or killed, it ruins the reality and goes against its purpose, so there are mechanisms in this dimension to prevent that from happening.
By creating sims within the Sim (like games, VR, movies, books, etc), we can explore evil pretty well while also retaining the freedom to explore lots of other aspects of life. This simulation is designed to retain a lot of freedom, not necessarily on an individual level – people can still end up in prison, for instance – but on a more macro scale, so all of humanity doesn’t end up in prison or equivalent.
Staying Energetically Grounded
When I was really in the thick of it and I felt like time was barely advancing, I kept reminding myself aloud, “This is temporary.” That was a tip I had read somewhere, and I must say that it was helpful. It helped me stay in a place of surrender, not panic, and just let it play out.
I also kept asking Rachelle along the way to send love energy, telling her that it helps. When she’d do so, I’d immediately notice the visuals shifting to become brighter and more red-orange-yellow.
I also kept reminding myself to stay connected to the vibe of love energy. Sometimes I’d say the word “love” aloud, even several times in a row. It’s hard to remember exactly if I did that, but Rachelle confirmed afterwards that I kept saying, “love, love, love” during part of the experience. I think I said those words as instructional reminders to myself… but with the emotional emphasis of swear words.
I didn’t feel like I needed to be physically grounded – I was okay floating through the cosmos and seeing intense visuals – but I really wanted to stay tethered to the vibe of love energy as much as possible. I think that helped. Love energy was like my seat and harness on the roller coaster ride, keeping me feeling existentially safe despite all the physical disorientation.
At no point during the experience did I feel threatened or like I was going to die. I knew I’d be okay. Sometimes I’d even reassure Rachelle that I was okay but that it was just REALLY intense. It was like being on a fast-moving ride but not really fearing for one’s life. I didn’t want her to worry. I really appreciate that she’s so good at keeping her vibe up while I’m going through these experiences – I sense that’s really important, especially when she’s in the same room with me.
I think this connects with why I didn’t usually like being in the room with everyone else at Rythmia in Costa Rica during the ayahuasca ceremonies I did there in 2019. I preferred to be outside on the grass for much of the experience. The energy of the open sky and the stars felt way better than the chaotic energy of 40 people all in the same room together. Even though they encouraged us to remain inside together, I think maybe that was more for their own monitoring convenience.
My favorite part was the final few hours where Rachelle and I cuddled on the couch together while doing more processing, some of it together. By that point the nausea finally began to subside. Being in cuddle-space felt so delightful and comforting, and the remaining time was a lot more gentle. I really love the downslope of these experiences, like when the roller coaster is finally pulling into the station at the end (even if it still takes hours to actually get there). I felt exhilarated and happy – and reassured to see the station within sight. I felt relieved to have finally made it through the really intense part, but I also wanted to hang with the energy of the experience longer to see what insights or further processing might come up. The downslope is the easy part of the ride.
A bit after midnight when I thought the experience was winding down, and I felt ready to nudge it to a close, I took some Liver Rescue (an herbal liver detoxifier) and ate a small amount of blueberries. I figured that would help my body process out the remaining psilocybin.
But no. I don’t know how, but that actually seemed to have the opposite effect, as if those blueberries also contained psilocybin. Within minutes I felt a fresh wave ramping up again. I felt like I was phasing back into psychedelic space again, and the visuals came back and then increased in intensity. This one wasn’t nearly as strong as the earlier waves, but I had to ride through another round of the experience. This part involved more mental and emotional processing that was more clearly personal, linked to various memories and aspects of my life. That was fine though. I was a little tired but still had sufficient energy to keep going, so even though I was surprised, I welcomed it and relaxed into it, mostly while sitting next to or cuddling with Rachelle. Sometimes I flowed with the experience silently, and sometimes I talked with her about it as I went through it.
I spent the final 30 minutes taking notes about the experience, even while I was still having some lingering effects, so I could remember many of the details later. I wanted to capture as many of the key details and insights as possible. After I went to bed, I could tell I was still doing more processing all through the night but mostly subconsciously. I had such strange dreams.
The next morning I spent another hour writing down more notes, and again the next day too. Writing this blog post helped me process more layers of the experience too.
The Physical Challenge
My intention for this journey was very simple – just four words: deep, gentle, loving, light. It was definitely deep, loving, and light. I don’t know about the gentle part, but perhaps it was as gentle as it could have been relative to the processing that was happening.
I feel like my mind, heart, and spirit all feel pretty well-aligned with exploring psychedelic space and don’t offer any serious resistance to it. I think those aspects of me actually like it. My physical body is another story though.
The hardest part of these explorations has been the physical sensations, especially nausea and dizziness. I don’t mind purging, especially if it helps me feel better afterwards, but I’m not super keen on enduring hours of nausea. So I’m wondering if there’s a solution to that and if there’s someway I could have better psychedelic experiences physically.
I’m amazed that many people are able to lie down and physically relax through these kinds of experiences. I can only do that during the beginning and during the downslope but not during the most intense part. I have to sit up since even the thought of lying down during that part makes me feel dizzy and super nauseous. I can keep my eyes closed for most of the journey, but my body feels much better staying upright.
For much of this experience, I was even sitting on the floor, not feeling like I could even get back up onto the couch.
I’m starting to wonder about my body’s relationship with psychedelic space, like maybe asking or intending the substances to be gentle with the body isn’t quite the right type of intention to hold. That framing seemed like it helped in the past, but I’m not sure if it helped this time. I feel like the issue may not be with the substances but rather with my body’s willingness to cooperate.
When I tune in to my body, the message I get in response is more like a FOMO feeling (fear of missing out). Instead of trying to relax my body to the point of zoning out physically and going fully into a mental, emotional, and spiritual space, I think my body wants to come along for the ride somehow and that it senses there’s a better way to do that. It feels partly like my body wants to join in the fun. It doesn’t want to be regarded as a burdensome physical tether that I must temporally leave behind. I think it wants me to find a more inclusive framing, so it can still ride with me.
So I’m wondering about other ways to explore psychedelics that would invite my body to be more cooperative. Maybe I could try incorporating movement like dancing or walking in nature. I don’t see how I could have done that during the intense parts of this journey without becoming too dizzy, but I could try that with a lower dosage. I think maybe my body is trying to point me in a direction I wouldn’t have otherwise considered if it wasn’t putting up such a fuss, like it’s doing that to get my attention and invite me to consider more alternatives.
My body feels calmer when I’m touching Rachelle too – it really likes her presence. So I know my body likes having touch as part of the experience. What else does it want though?
This is definitely one aspect I’d love to figure out, so if anyone with experience in this area has some advice or insights to offer, I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to send me a message via my contact form.
I get the impression that instead of trying to completely tune out from the physical, I can explore in such a way that the physical remains part of the experience without sacrificing the other aspects of the exploration. I think it may be the wrong framing for me to have assumed that the physical aspect needs to get out of the way, so the other frequencies can come through more prominently. I really don’t think this is an issue of my body fearing death or anything like that, so the “fear” aspect of FOMO isn’t really accurate here. I think it’s more that my body desires and senses that it can be more integrated into psychedelic journeys. This isn’t what I expected, but on some level it does seem reasonable to me.
Now I’m wondering if I can invite the physical aspects to be part of the journey together yet still go really deep. If this physical reality is all holographic anyway, why not?
I think I’ll ask about this aspect at Tuesday night’s local psychedelic integration circle since there are some very experienced people there who may have an interesting perspective on this.
Near the end of the experience, I also asked about my life purpose. I’ve felt pretty well connected to that for a long time now, but I was curious to see if anything new or different would come through. It was mostly a confirmation of what I already knew – in the form of two words but with an interesting emphasis in the second part that really resonated.
The first word was lightbringer. The meaning that came through was that I’m here to shine a light on different aspects of life and existence. Basically just keep sharing honestly about this human experience, especially in areas where other people aren’t sharing in as much detail. So keep right on exploring and sharing because that’s why I’m here. Don’t hold back in telling it like it is. It’s a simple and straightforward purpose – and very flexible. I definitely feel this suits me well. This confirms why I feel so at home with the work I do and the lifestyle I enjoy.
The second word was intensity. The message here was that it’s actually a key part of my purpose to bring the intensity and not to hold back. I was shown that when I get into new social groups, it’s totally fine to share my intense side from the beginning. I don’t need to build up to that so much. Yes, it will occasionally bother some people, but it’s also very authentic for me to be in the space of intensity, and I might be doing other people a disservice by trying to tone that down too much. I can still be compassionate and intense at the same time, and it’s more purposeful for me to keep the intensity up when that feels aligned to me. This part resonated since I do seem to feel right at home when having intense experiences. There’s a part of me that just loves intensity. It’s like my soul’s favorite coffee. I also don’t feel turned off or resistant to other people having intense experiences in my presence – it doesn’t make me uncomfortable if people are crying or sobbing or doing intense emotional processing. Even if people get mad at me, I willingly receive that too. I tend to find such experiences beautiful because that’s when people are being very real, vulnerable, and intimate. This part really landed with me, and I want to take more time to reflect upon it further. I knew I liked intensity, but I don’t recall thinking about it as being part of my life purpose before.
This intensity thread flows through so many aspects of my life – shoplifting when I was a teenager, going through college in three semesters, playing lots of computer games, running my own businesses for 30+ years, martial arts training, open relationships, D/s, travel, subjective reality explorations, public speaking, coaching, building communities, 30-day challenges, and of course exploring psychedelics. Somehow the space of intensity is like my natural resting point. It feels like my home base. I know that intuitively, but being in this reality can make that a hard thing to accept sometimes since so many people in this world exude fear, anxiety, and stress over experiences that I innately find pleasurable and comforting. The kinds of experiences that stress some people out just don’t have that effect on me.
I feel like it’s going to take me weeks to continue processing this experience, maybe longer, and that a lot more realizations (perhaps the best ones) will come through the unfolding integration process, not from the direct experience itself. What I shared here was just a small fraction of what the overall experience was like. It was incredibly dense, perhaps because reality cheated by slowing the flow of time so it could pack more in.
I’m glad I got this in before our upcoming UK trip. I feel like it’s just perfect timing-wise to go travel for a few weeks, including hanging out with my TLC friends. That feels like exactly the right kind of flow to invite next. I sense that this psychedelic journey may have helped me clean out some old patterns, so I can be even more open to new experiences, adventures, and connections on this trip.
Those little shrooms really pack a punch!