Citation: Brian. "The Iridescent Column of Everything: An Experience with LSD & Cannabis (exp49772)". Erowid.org. Feb 6, 2006. erowid.org/exp/49772
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The following story is not a beginning-to-end account of my LSD trip; it is only an excerpt of the most interesting occurence. In fact, it is an excerpt of perhaps the most profound moment of my entire life. At the time of this story I was an experienced LSD user (about 20 trips preceding) and was comfortable enough with myself and my surroundings that I felt I could experiment with a slightly higher dose than ever before. What you are about to read is a calculated risk on my part, physically, emotionally, and legally. Don't take such decisions lightly.
My parents were out of town and I had the house to myself. It was a glorious sunny summer noon and I had reserved the entire day for intraspective exploration - I declared it a holiday of my one-man religion. Having familiarized myself with the variety and strength of the substance I planned to consume (paper tabs with a symmetrical pattern resembling a bathroom tile) I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to delve a little deeper than ever before. I started with 3 tabs, and after getting a good feel for things, consumed a 4th after about 90 minutes - my highest dose to this day.
Most of the experience was unremarkable from my other trips, except for a few minutes I spent on my back deck as I welcomed the 4th hit.
I was enjoying the radiance of sunlight softened by the white venetian blinds in my living room, and decided to peek around outside to 'see what I could see.' I took my first barefoot step outside onto the wooden deck and breathed in this glorious potpourri of swarming and exhaling vegetation, feeding my lungs like my belly is fed a fresh garden salad. I surveyed the back yard from afar, drinking in the velvety
vibrance with all my senses. In the distance I could hear the delighted screams and squeals of children enjoying recess from the nearby elementary school. I laid back on a plastic deck recliner, staring at the sky, revelling in this unbelievable stillness and peace the likes of which I'd never known. The knowledge that this was just another ordinary day and that such a fantastic orchestra of existence was the status quo filled me to the very brim with contentedness - a profoundness that reminded me of Leary's 'ecstasy' but a calmness and neutrality that betrayed such description.
I relaxed all my muscles and decided to tackle one of the exercises I'd promised I'd try the last time I tripped - I closed my eyes and kept them closed. I was surrounded by this whirling miasma of blues and greens; the pollen-like residue of the 'good vibes' that emanated from nature around me that stuck to my soul like burrs on jeans. I felt my consciousness lapse into some abstract form that danced with this complex geometric tea party. I held proverbial hands with these particles, spinning with them in unison. They welcomed me, they beckoned me, and I welcomed their invitation. As we danced, the particles and shapes faded slowly from blues and greens to brighter greens, to a deep yellow, to sultry oranges, to bloody crimson, and deeper, darker, until there was nothing but intense blackness. The song of nature and the dance of life were no more and I knew, somehow, that this was the very epitome of unity - that, paradoxically, the only oneness was nothingness.
Suddenly aware that I was reclining in a chair in my backyard, soaking the glorious warmth of the sun through my skin, I maintained this duality between nothingness and somethingness for an undetermined amount of time. Probably no more than a few seconds. Then I felt my eyes roll downward slightly. I felt the strain of the muscles as I peered down, continuing to see only blackness. When I looked down enough that my eyes were slightly uncomfortable I saw a pinprick of white light. Still in my chair but feeling myself flying, I willed myself toward the speck. The speck stretched vertically into a line, like a bright white toothpick. Daring to approach nearer, the toothpick expanded featurelessly in two dimensions until it resembled a sort of monolith. This white column stood before me, or I before it, and I felt the attraction. This column was a door. It was a portal to some place absolutely crucial to the universe. It towered before me, the purest white I felt I was capable of perceiving, and bathed me in a torrent of wellbeing, potential, energy, growth, expansion, vastness... I felt this column tugging at me, beckoning me, inviting me. My breathing stopped. My heart stopped. Everything was still.
At this moment I was aware of my perceptual duality more than any other moment in my entire life. I was not only aware of it - this view was being presented to me. I was being asked THE QUESTION. Did I want to enter or stay? I knew somehow that where I was was some place that always was, always is, and always will be. I knew I could come here again when I was ready. I also knew that if I said yes to this question, that I could never go back to the world I grew up in. I felt that this was the door that separated 3 dimensions and infinite dimensions. I could choose to be reborn, right now, and to die on Earth. I was not afraid. I was not happy or sad. I was generously given the time to remain in limbo and rationalize the decision. I wanted to go through, but I felt I should weigh the variables first.
I only needed one. I thought of my beloved girlfriend. My soulmate. Our souls were tied and I didn't have the right to separate them without her permission. I felt that I would miss her for all eternity if I left her. My love for her was greater than my love for anything else.
The choice was made. The pillar quickly slipped back down into nothingness, out of the blackness rushed the red fractals, streaming into yellow, green, then blue, and then I opened my eyes. The world rushed into me the way water rushes down an open drain. I took a breath and realized it had been my first in some time. I loved the feeling. My backyard quivered and danced and glowed for me, each blade of grass enthusiastically waving hello to me after my excursion. I had made the right choice.
I sat at my computer and described the experience to my girlfriend over IM (though for some reason I omitted that she was my reason for returning) but she was uninterested. I told the story again to another friend who was very positive and excited for me, insisting I'd had a brush with an out-of-body experience. I played some video games and watched some movies and enjoyed a jolly afternoon.
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Some of the activities described are dangerous and/or illegal and none are recommended by Erowid Center.