#psychedelic experiences

[steadytidalwavewhispers]

Question

Wondering if there is any interest in me posting a new fiction project I’m undertaking in installments on here as I go along. Please respond if you’d like me to. Thanks in advance for your response. I appreciate all your support.

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[thesocialpsychic]

Authors David Jay Brown and Rebecca Ann Hill Discuss Women in Visionary Art

[paint-splattered-blog]

Arts Factory Lodge

We sat on the beach & looked at existence

- A pure ripe buzz of fertile energy waiting to manifest into a desirous form.

No plans. No judgment, just raw intention with no form of thought.

We never thought about planning. We wanted to wing it.

The Arts Factory community welcomed us. A hostel filled with souls from all walks of life, from all over the planet.

There was a transformed double-decker bus, 2 giant teepees, organic bungalows, a beautiful lush green tea tree pond, water bearded dragons, brush turkeys, vast hammocks and a multitude of colourful souls and motion.

It was buzzing with the air of travel and adventure, a psychedelic playground of psychonautical contemplation.

Then there was he. The flyer. The dreamer. The doer. He was real.

He wasn't an illusive figure.He was reptilian-esque, an adrenaline junkie and full of passion for adventure as well as innerspace explorations and psychic intellect.

He got it. He understood it in the Sun tradition path. He was the energy of knowledge, and calculative motion.

It felt like I was asking for this entity to teach me on a psychic level. It was like destiny.

Our instinctual energy matched. Our spirits were on the same wavelength, our restlessness and questioning nature were identical.

In this journey, he was the male half of my nomadic spirit, my true nature.

This person was firmly grounded, no bullshit, so unlike the Juggler.

So many precious travelling souls out there - may they never stop journeying and seeking inspirational experiences in this existence.

Byron Bay is truly magic. No words can describe the atmosphere brimming with magic. This place is the point of indigenous dreamtime energy, so intensely soul-nourishing and inspiring.

The magic of the land is completely recognized and worked with as a living breathing Spirit.

The sphere of the Arts Factory life was pulsing with party, celebratory energy of music and motion, a complete expression of the spirit. It was a universe of its own kind. 

Byron Bay, June-August 2008 

And I miss it. Terribly. 

[wanderingoak-blog]

Meeting the Judge

This past weekend I had the pleasure of attending the 13th Annual SSDP Conference in Denver. I was invited to speak on a panel about surpassing political boundaries to change drug policy. Well, the conference was amazing and I was able to hang out with a ton of people who I felt naturally comfortable around. Anyway, that’s not what this post is about…

The SSDP Conference and the book I received from MAPS (The Ultimate Journey by Stanislav Grof) had me thinking about my first real healing vision. It happened about two years ago after a long night of MDMA use and talking with close friends that helped me with my PTSD. After hours and hours of talking, dancing, and emotional release we were starting to wind down and decided to use some nitrous.

I was laying on my back and took a hit of nitrous and had the following vision:

I found myself walking down a dirt road, it was daytime but the sky was dark and a storm raged in the distance. I could smell the storm coming and lightning flashed in the distance to my left. There was no real wildlife to speak of except for a few dead trees that sparsely lined the path I was walking on.

I continued walking a short time and statues started to appear on my left and right. They were nearly identical except the ones on my left were red and seemed to glow and pulse like fire. The ones on my right were blue and seemed to glow and flow like water. The statues themselves were both men and women and stood about 7 feet tall and wore armor and held swords in front of them blade resting on the ground.

They didn’t seem to be alive but I could tell there was a presence in them. I passed 12 statues on each side when a larger statue stood in front of me on the path. This statue was white and seemed to pulse like fire and flow like water. Instead of a sword he held a scale in his hand. This statue, the “Judge”, was neither male nor female and spoke to me.

The Judge said that my future was unsure but it was risky to travel it alone. After that brief message thunder cracked and a slight drizzle of rain started to fall. The statues all went dark and turned pale gray.

I soon came back to normal consciousness. I don’t claim to know what all of it means. I don’t even know if it was anything more than my subconscious addressing some of my issues at the time. I was very unwilling to love or even feel emotional attraction to anyone because of some past pain. MDMA has helped me with a lot of that pain but this experience feels like more than just an ecstacy roll and it has stuck with me.

Since that time I have had a couple more experiences when I meditate and use salvia but they were nowhere near as meaningful as this first experience.

[transfinitism]

Classmates: What are you drawing?

Me: I don't fucking know

[masterbadar-blog]

Reality Sandwich

This is a pretty cool interview on Reality Sandwich with Joe Rogan. :)