Citation: No-One. "Phoenix Rising: An Experience with Salvia divinorum (extract) (exp57500)". Erowid.org. Nov 20, 2007. erowid.org/exp/57500
One hit taken at night with two sitters, first time using Salvia, makes Acid seem like Rootbeer, although effect much shorter, while under the influence of the plant, there was no, and I mean *NO* recollection of this life, of concepts of people, coming out of this experience I did not even know who the people around me were, or who I was, or what they were, as if I was a new born baby being born into this reality, a life changing experience, causing me to ponder the nature of death and re-birth, despite experiencing dieing, and the difficult transition emerging back into this reality, the experience was positive and is summarized below,
Reality well done or Adventures with Salvia
A life lived in ten minutes, a rebirth with no knowledge of this world,
A herd of flaming horses gave me wings, my soul riding the winds of times, slipping towards a past destiny, the Grandfather dressed in his Sunday best, holding hands with a child, a girl of ten wearing a blue dress with long red hair, walking between trees on a sunny day, a whole life lived,
Cliffs by the sea, a stumble, an endless fall onto rocks, breaking my body apart in a thousand pieces, dieing, floating up surrounded by friends, Angels each one, lying on the desert floor, in the desert, part of the ground, soaking up the sun, the bleak valley stretching out beyond my vision, fractal patterns dancing colors of spoken light, the ground moving with me,
Fearing this reality, my reality of which I had so easily forgotten was not real, and here the desert was, the colors vivid, the voices singing,
Sliding along, being dragged, two realities merging, what was once not real, now real, what was real, now unreal, no ego, no knowledge of self, no concept of language,
A new born baby being thrust into a harsh undiscovered nexus of compressed fabrics, a dense pellet of knowledge being force fed in a few minutes, where the idea of minutes means nothing,
The blue sky of the past torn from my grasp, holding tight to dissolving concepts, the past, future, now all the same, what is last, now first, together they came, and globs of paint floating in my face, dancing balls of spherical reflections congealed into faces, a face as seen by a baby, an unknown identity, neither understood as human, no name can we place upon what was *before* our closest friends, no idea of who, what, or where,
Moments of time shuffled as if random cards, fragments superimpose into seamless sliding streams, carrying us along, a hand outstretched offered up, clung to as everything real melted into dreams, and dreams melted into reality,
Caught between two worlds, confusion rampant within the Committee, as the Committee had yet to be formed, voices in the distance calling me home, to a home we did not remember as ours, believing their words of truth, the truth they believed, we saw to be lies, as this was our home here, and now fading out and in, the two worlds colliding, mixing,
Shattered into duel truths, duel lies, neither right nor wrong, neither here or there, neither a lie nor a truth could we perceive,
A gentle face peering down at us, our question difficult to voice, remembering how to breath, “Who are you?”, the answer given to us possessing no meaning at all, “Who am *I*”, again the answer meaningless in this state of being, an observer without ego, without self, just being,
Slowly back and forth the memories of this world flooded in and begin to displace the past life of what a few moments ago was clear and *real*, more real then this life we had forgotten, and now this life, this whole life came streaming back, words, knowledge, beliefs, concepts, again understood, yet a different light blazed on them, illuminated with a new focus,
Understanding now, how lives are lived, how pasts are forgotten, how egos are formed, self identities convenient lies, and why reflections of these memories carries the burden of madness, confusion, disbelief when years, time as meaningless as an illusion, a rabbit pulled from a hat, clouds the minds, infects the self, the pill we swallow and then sleep,
Now sleeping, yet awake we realize why, The streaming herd of flaming horses burning all they touch, igniting the pages of illusion with their hoofs has caused a transformation,
The Phoenix has arisen,
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