DOSE:		smoked	Cannabis
		oral	Alcohol - Beer/Wine
	1 hit	smoked	Salvia divinorum	(extract - 10x)

BODY WEIGHT:

265 lb

Spiritual Organism

I never planned or had a strong enough impulse to record the so called “events” of a chemically-induced trip, be it psilocybin or salvia divinorum. But here I am. It’s because of the sheer immensity of what I experienced about fifteen minutes ago. I’m writing this down for my own purposes (like memory) as well as for use by others, for whatever.

This was approximately my 7th or 8th significant experience with salvia. Though I’ve had stronger extracts (up to 60x, supposedly), this was probably my favorite and most interesting ‘trip.’ I credit this to the amount of dense smoke I inhaled and held.

Alone in my quiet backyard, I loaded a bowl (no more than half a gram) of simple 10x salvia. I took the hit through a small water pipe and held the smoke until there was little left lingering to exhale. I was mildly stoned beforehand, very relaxed with a cold beer, and not preoccupied in my thoughts. After a few seconds, I noticed the body sensations typical of salvia for me—tingling fingers, limbs, throat—though, it was less noticeable than usual and certainly less memorable. I like to close my eyes for the inward journey of salvia, but I don’t remember consciously doing so this evening. There was a complete, clean break, like an awakening or birth. Later, I would realize I’d been sitting there in something of a black-out, eyes presumably closed. I wasn’t aware of the change, just focused on this new, oddly mingled reality. I say mingled because, in this world I stepped into, there was a very thin line, very little difference between emotions and thoughts and physicality. That is to say, any thought, feeling, or communication (and there was a busy network of communicating bodies) was directly manifested as some moving shape, which moved and acted synonymously with the thought/feeling/communication. This was the oddest thing, and impossible really to paint for you in words. But I’ll try…

I was at the edge, connected physically to the tip, of some unspeakable, organic tower that spread out digits in every direction like loose spokes of a huge, amorphous Ferris wheel. As stems on a plant, all the towers and respective fingers were connected at their base; beyond was black and void. I was on the tip of one of the giant digit-like outcroppings, myself a single unit, a mere cell in the finger-like structure. The towers around seemed to turn their attention in my direction as soon as I began looking around. With their attention came various inquiries, comments, and mild complaints. These were not audible—I felt what they were thinking/saying collectively, a kind of instant summary, and I had to single out different thoughts/personalities along the surface to understand them specifically. Different messages rippled across the face of the vast organism with perfect synchronization of thought and movement—I saw messages while mentally perceiving them. The huge “Being” was very much a network of independent “minds” and there were even contradicting feelings, I think, but there was a greater harmony, an ultimate agreement, which being a part of the organism required. I was very aware of this collective sense of agreement—everything was working toward a shared goal—I’m pretty sure this goal was to grow. There was a benevolent but a kind of stoic sense to it. Structurally, the organism was like a filament, which is basically a galaxy of galaxies (in which case I would’ve been a single star) but the material was more like soft, moving cactus, quite solid and tangible.

In the midst of carrying out their common task (growing), the structures around me paused and began to question what I was doing up and out, as if I’d poked my head out of some hole in the ground. There was a small huddle of towers focusing around me—it seemed small but all at once large because these things were really mountain-like structures, evidently towers made from towers of building blocks like me. Except…all the other “building blocks” were dormant and facing into the organism. I was facing out and across.

One tower asked why I was out and I momentarily felt his question as some strong emotion that was also a physical sensation. I had trouble replying, but a reply came from around me anyway. I couldn’t perceive the response very well, but the tower of which I was a part (it may’ve just been the smaller digit where I was) answered in an apologetic, patient tone.

This is the point during the experience when I began to slip in and out of the organism, much in the same way I would soon wash back in and out of my usual, daily consciousness—popping my head in and out of the hole, as it were. Glancing into the organism, where I’d been dormant until moments ago, was an ineffable web of parts of me—my identity—emotions, relationships, important memories. There was a constant shuffling of images, which brought on respective feelings etc., but one of the most dominant images was of the house where I grew up (from age 4 to 15). I distinctly remember seeing (with that odd clouding of dreams) an image of my old house upside-down as I flipped back out and looked again over the organism’s outer surface. There was apparently some sense of direction because I can recall doing a total flip over to find a new up and down, like inverting my Z-axis or something.

For a few moments I was going back and forth, swimming in emotion and realization, alternately. Inside, I could recognize complex combinations of feeling and experience, and I could trace these combo’s like taut ropes leading off to people in my life. Organic is a good word to describe the sense of it all—I wish I knew all the biological and botanical terms, because personal, even spiritual connections, were manifested in something like vines. People were stem nodes, I guess you could say. When I got the brief look at another person inside, I saw their personality and interpersonal relation to me more than their body. As I flipped back to the outside, I began to piece together the big picture: this unspeakable structure was built upon networks of internal networks of relationships and meaningful feelings—the most basic unit being an individual person like myself. What gets me about salvia is how it can just throw you into another sense of reality. Tracing this wild, new perspective back to the reality we know is, in my opinion, the fun stuff. I think certain minds will instinctively begin trying to figure out where they are and try to make sense of surroundings. I think a mind can be trained to become this way.

As I began to realize what I was seeing, I sensed my option and (suddenly) a resounding encouragement to break from the internal (the inside of the organism) and to stay permanently on the outside. I understood, with considerable exhilaration, that I could become something like one of the fingers, maybe even one of the much larger towers, all by myself. But I couldn’t make the break, the inversion, whatever you want to call it. The minds around me, the surrounding towers, made me realize that I had bonds on the inside that needed finishing. The nearest (but the most ethereal) tower, my “home tower,” I guess you could call it (since I was on it), it became the primary communicator and it took me inside and showed me a powerful, vine-like connection that was suffering. This, I’m pretty sure, was the connection to my soon-to-be wife, and my ‘mother tower’ pointed out a stark incompatibility. For some reason, this vine-like bond could not grow properly, and this, I understood, was one of several reasons why I could not “invert” myself and stay permanently on the outside of the organism.

As I began to regain spots of usual, waking consciousness (and saw short appearances of my backyard) I started to wonder if I was seeing something accessible only after death. (Note: I didn’t think I was dying. I’ve never forgotten about smoking the salvia and all that. I’m either very aware or just a dumb obliging cow.) It seemed logical to conclude that the internal fulfillment (of our bonds inside the organism) came simultaneously with the death of our bodies. I found no clue about what would happen if someone died with unresolved bonds—my only conjecture is that this person would live on inside the organism until his bonds were made complete, a kind of Purgatory; perhaps then he could relocate upwards and out. Perhaps I was very naïve during the experience and didn’t realize that those close bonds of mine that needed attention (like my fiancé) were only the beginning. Perhaps a permanent transition to the surface can only be made once harmony is reached with every person, each building block connected and in a happy balance. This sounds quite Buddhist, to the best of my knowledge (which is very limited when it comes to eastern religions).

The last thing I’d like to note is that I never spotted an individual who was inverted like I was during the experience. However, it seemed to make sense that there were others—the towers’ and digits’ “voices” seemed to be collections of minds and their messages to me. Believe it or not, I am convinced there is some real truth in what I saw. I am sure there were others, other waking “building blocks”—I almost think I remember seeing one—which makes this seeming “enlightenment” attainable and an honorable, even desirable end.

I hadn't read many salvia reports before writing this. I find it interesting that becoming plant-like is common. The sensation is like an ascendence, but to a simpler being.

Exp Year: 2008	ExpID: 73035
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: May 21, 2020	Views: 1,653
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Salvia divinorum (44) : Alone (16), Entities / Beings (37), General (1)