Citation: Wyrd. "A Rebirth: An Experience with Datura (exp16973)". Erowid.org. Nov 13, 2004. erowid.org/exp/16973
My experience with Datura stramonium (dry autumn seeds) was synchronistic with my expanding awareness. It marks a gateway from the world I was reared in, and the world I now walk in. Without an extensive history of my growth, from prepuberty to the day I ingested the sacred plant, simply recounting the experience itself would be fruitless. I will spare the reader great detail, but some history should be shared.
It was autumn, and I was twenty when I consumed the seeds of a withered 'Jimsonweed' plant in a field of shale in the foothills of Appalachia. I had been wandering for months already, after leaving my anthropology studies in college in search of something real. My life to that point seemed to be a cycle of rearing, then disillusionment, and I had reached a weary state. After turning my back on my faith at fifteen, my belief in history's interpretations and philosophy at seventeen, my world-view and lifestyle (with its effects) at nineteen, and even my ability to conceive at twenty, I felt naked and alone in a very cold world. I was living as a vagrant, and wandered away, only away, from all that was familiar. It all seemed ill. I had been fasting and having dreams with meaning that led me to asceticism. I had lived as a vegan for some time, when I ate at all. I felt like I had been infected by the original sin, even if that was something so abstract that it couldn't be rationalised. I was ready to die, but I didn't even have the volition to push myself that far. The dreams showed me glimpses of glimpses of something that I felt closer to in the wilderness.
When my friend from childhood told me that he had spoken to animals while under the influence of Datura, I needed no more motivation. I could feel it was in order, immediately. I wish I had the proper venue to explain more, as I feel that sharing would be correct. I consumed the seeds of a withered seed-pod or two, which would amount to a heaping tablespoon, and about four hours later, the experience began.
The onset involved losing touch with material reality. Things appeared, disappeared, and seemed in-between constantly. I didn't have any concern, though. I was a totally detached observer. Then, I lost touch with my body. My legs wobbled. My arms went farther or not as far as I seemed to wield them. I felt like I was swaying when I was not. No concern for me, still.
Then, a great many visitors came and spoke to me. It seemed as though people I have known throughout my past were coming back and reminding me of lessons I learned. Mythical characters, 'holy' men, teachers, fictitious characters, even TV personalities, past masters, all reminded me of insights that I gained from them. This lasted for hours, as my friend later told me (he was sober). I recall at the end of this, they might just stand beside me silently and I could see a light behind them and simply knew what they meant.
Then, an overpowering urge to urinate carried me to the toilet. I emptied a chalky-white stream into the bowl and sighed heavily, and all the sudden, my mind was clear. I didn't know what was happening. This is when I entered what I will call a dream-state.
I opened the door to the restroom, and the other side was vacant. I recall feeling as if a woman were embracing me, and I fell into her cloak. I caught a glimpse of her face and amulet just before falling; she was earthy and old. This is when things become too abstract to recount with mind. I recall feeling as if I was falling in whichever direction I struggled against. I so exerted myself that I then decided to give up and just fall. It was after a period of intense fear and struggle, at the prospect of falling, that I realized I was floating. And the more I let go, the more I was 'cradled'. There is a period after that I won't explain, because I feel only I understand it. What I can explain next was feeling the moonlight like a shower of cool warmth.
I set out and roamed the hills, abandoning my keys, wallet, and shoes along the way. They felt so heavy, I recall. I recall speaking, using a vibrational voice, to plants of all kinds. They would make me feel their place in life's web. And taught me about mine. It was like visiting a place I'd never been, and knowing everyone already. It was beyond description. I felt at peace. I recall resting under the moon, and then noticing a tick on me... then two... then five... and I couldn't swipe them off. They crawled furiously toward my head. At first I accepted it, as I had accepted falling, but as I began to *think* about the situation, it brought dread to mind. By then, these ticks and other crawling bugs were crawling into my nose, ears, mouth, eyes, every orifice. The more I decided to panic, the more I did, and I could feel my airways being choked. Then, as if the feminine character with the cloak was whispering to me, I let go again and accepted death. At that very moment every crawling thing that was choking me was transformed into a ladybug, and in a whisp of red in the moon-light flittered away.
I was quiet again. Then, approaching from a distance, a dance by a feline-like feminine figure. It was incredible, and I was deeply moved. Acrobatic, yet smooth and flowing, I was entranced. Then I realised she was a shadow. I realised that shadows all around me had begun to dance, so I joined them. There was visual music and all around the shadows danced. They taught me to dance like them, and I felt so grateful that I cannot explain.
There is another mysterious period here. A blur of abstract events.
I then spoke to a dog for some time. Strange as it may sound, at first he was an old farmer, leaning against a truck. He would nod as I told him things (mostly my deep feelings of goodness in seeing him well, which didn't seem strange at all). Then, gradually, he responded more and more by turning his head and barking an old bloodhound-type bark. This too seemed normal. Then his guise was also canine. He told me of his life, and how he longed to feel wild again before he passed (he was very old). He conveyed to me that I would do well to embrace a mystery within all things; even my own being. I understood then, but later, when sobered, had to meditate long to reach this again. I bid him adieu and wandered farther.
There is another phase now, which is a mixture of seeing things in stages of decay. It is very difficult to convey, but amounts to the fact that all is perpetually thriving and decaying, always. The next I recall, I was talking to a man in his house, which I had wandered into. Later he told me that I woke him up by entering, and he asked what the **** I was doing there, and to get out. My response was an expression of innocence recoiling from brutality. He said I examined everything in the room closely (at that time I recall seeing them as relics) and then settling on his sofa and talking to him. Being well-experienced with psychedelic experiences himself, he relaxed and tried to get information about me. I recall him asking where I was from, and this is when normal processes began to return. I could tell him what state and city I was from, but what he wanted to know was from where did I wander to his home. He asked me how I got there, and I told him my car. He asked what car, and I pointed to his. It really looked like the car I once owned, at the time. Later, he heard me muttering to myself about things that seemed to remind him of a book he was reading concerning the 'akashik record', which I am still not familiar with (not even its spelling). Eventually, I felt I could walk back to my starting-point.
I then recall seeing the cloaked woman once more upon returning to my friend's home, but on second glimpse seeing it was a heap of trash-bags.
This experience lasted three days; an utter time-warp. I later found out that neighbors had seen me wandering in horse-pastures, seeming to play like a small child might. I was mud-encrusted up to my knees and dirty all over, just wearing pants.
I still have the impact of these events with me today. I 'know' how to let go. I 'know' how to let life flow through me. My life was greatly enriched. I feel being disillusioned and ready to die was what kept me afloat during this experience. Would I have choked to death if I hadn't? The feminine aspect of all things has become a most fascinating and revered part of my life. The mystery has returned.
I may never use Datura again. I don't hear the voice. As you can see, it is among the most risky 'trips' I've ever encountered. After studying its traditional use, it is quite clear why that time was right. Yet, I will never suggest someone use it the way I did. Datura is beyond psychedelic.
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