Salvia
Friday night, N and I did salvia divinorum for the first time. It was... unlike anything else I've ever done. Imagine the intensity of a 10-hour acid trip compacted into the time frame of a lengthy nitrous trip. It was approximately a 3-minute foray into weird-land where I didn't know who I was or where I was. I knew there was someone with me, but I couldn't see him. This was freaky, since Nikos was sitting on the bed not quite directly in front of me -- about at 2o'clock. I just couldn't see him. At least, not until I tipped my body over to the left side, which brought him into my direct line of sight. WTF? And because I couldn't see him, I started to get scared. And then I told myself* that I shouldn't freak out. Freaking out would be bad (in both a "They're all going to laugh at you" sort of way and a "that's simply unproductive" sort of way). I knew while tripping that it would be a very short experience and that it would all be ok. This didn't stop me from grabbing N's hand in a contorted grip of doom once I finally caught sight of him.
I was aware that I was in a room and that there were objects in front of me, but I had no idea what room I was in or whether those objects I saw were supposed to have any significance to me. It felt like they were movie props and I was sitting on the set of some unknown tv production. Kind of like in the Labyrinth when Sarah is in her fake room in the junkyard or, better yet, the Truman Show. It all felt wrong to me and it took several minutes for me to come to terms with the fact that yes, I lived in this house and yes, these things I saw were my and N's things. This was our stuff, but it still felt like one big joke for some time.
Visually, things were... weird. Very very difficult for me to explain. I'll have to experiment further to establish an appropriate vocabulary. When my eyes were closed, I saw really pretty, geometric designs, but when I opened my eyes, it was as though the geometric designs were the templates upon which the objects before me were built. It's really hard for me to describe it any further, since it was so short an experience -- literally a matter of seconds.
I distinctly recall three levels of consciousness, which stunned me as I sobered up. Tripartite soul theories abound in many different cultures and spiritual paths, but I'd never really felt at home with it. Now, it's as though a whole new world of self has opened up for me. I find it really exciting!
With acid, I easily found two levels of consciousness: the child and the caretaker. The child is the one who experiences all the weirdnesses and curiosities of acid, who comes up with all the questions and makes connections as though she's learning everything all over again for the first time. The adult is the one with common sense who says, "It's been 5 hours since you last ate; you should have an orange so your blood sugar doesn't plummet." And "You don't have full function of your hands right now. It would be better if N handled the knife to cut the orange." And "Staying inside would be better because you're peaking and you can't figure out how to walk like everyone else, let alone remember how to put your clothes on correctly."
I've dropped acid 5 times now. I'm fairly familiar with these states of consciousness.
With salvia, it felt distinctly different. There was an older, distant self. This part of me knew that whatever fear I felt would short-lived, as the trip would be between 30 seconds and 3 minutes. This part of me also knew that the door to exit the room was on the right side of me.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, there was the front self. This was a very child-like self -- the one that is perceiving the surrounding environment. As such, she is the one who is immediately affected by these perceptions. This is where the fear originated -- the front self could not see the person she was with, so there was no external reassurance to quell the fear. She didn't know where she was, as there was no sense of familiarity with the objects she saw before her -- she was completely unattached to this life as she knew it. She couldn't make sense of things, but she tried very hard to listen to the middle self.
The middle self* is the part of me who spent the trip interpreting messages from the older self to the front self. She relied on reason to comfort the child part of me. She felt like a teenager, as she had a fair bit of common sense, but she was very self-conscious. I felt as though she was afraid, as well, but was trying to stifle the fear. I think part of the fear I experienced stemmed from being self-conscious about the fact that I didn't know what was going on. That's such an interesting thing for me. Something I'll have to gnaw on for awhile. Hrmmm... maybe it has to do with control issues. *ponders*
I came away from the trip very moved. When I came to, I wasn't sure if I enjoyed it or not. The fear was most assuredly not enjoyable, but learning about myself and my perceptions very much is enjoyable, so it's kind of a toss-up. And since I really like pushing my own boundaries, I'll definitely be doing it again. It was one of the most intense things I've ever experienced, and all it took was ONE TOKE off my beloved, green glass water pipe.
For next time, I'd like to try it with N being closer to me, holding on to or touching me, and me keeping my eyes closed. I'd also like to try it outside in nature. I think that experiencing salvia in a natural setting where no attachment to the plants is felt in the first place might be easier for me somehow. Or with keeping my eyes closed, there are no objects to look at in the first place. I wonder what that would do for me.
I was aware that I was in a room and that there were objects in front of me, but I had no idea what room I was in or whether those objects I saw were supposed to have any significance to me. It felt like they were movie props and I was sitting on the set of some unknown tv production. Kind of like in the Labyrinth when Sarah is in her fake room in the junkyard or, better yet, the Truman Show. It all felt wrong to me and it took several minutes for me to come to terms with the fact that yes, I lived in this house and yes, these things I saw were my and N's things. This was our stuff, but it still felt like one big joke for some time.
Visually, things were... weird. Very very difficult for me to explain. I'll have to experiment further to establish an appropriate vocabulary. When my eyes were closed, I saw really pretty, geometric designs, but when I opened my eyes, it was as though the geometric designs were the templates upon which the objects before me were built. It's really hard for me to describe it any further, since it was so short an experience -- literally a matter of seconds.
I distinctly recall three levels of consciousness, which stunned me as I sobered up. Tripartite soul theories abound in many different cultures and spiritual paths, but I'd never really felt at home with it. Now, it's as though a whole new world of self has opened up for me. I find it really exciting!
With acid, I easily found two levels of consciousness: the child and the caretaker. The child is the one who experiences all the weirdnesses and curiosities of acid, who comes up with all the questions and makes connections as though she's learning everything all over again for the first time. The adult is the one with common sense who says, "It's been 5 hours since you last ate; you should have an orange so your blood sugar doesn't plummet." And "You don't have full function of your hands right now. It would be better if N handled the knife to cut the orange." And "Staying inside would be better because you're peaking and you can't figure out how to walk like everyone else, let alone remember how to put your clothes on correctly."
I've dropped acid 5 times now. I'm fairly familiar with these states of consciousness.
With salvia, it felt distinctly different. There was an older, distant self. This part of me knew that whatever fear I felt would short-lived, as the trip would be between 30 seconds and 3 minutes. This part of me also knew that the door to exit the room was on the right side of me.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, there was the front self. This was a very child-like self -- the one that is perceiving the surrounding environment. As such, she is the one who is immediately affected by these perceptions. This is where the fear originated -- the front self could not see the person she was with, so there was no external reassurance to quell the fear. She didn't know where she was, as there was no sense of familiarity with the objects she saw before her -- she was completely unattached to this life as she knew it. She couldn't make sense of things, but she tried very hard to listen to the middle self.
The middle self* is the part of me who spent the trip interpreting messages from the older self to the front self. She relied on reason to comfort the child part of me. She felt like a teenager, as she had a fair bit of common sense, but she was very self-conscious. I felt as though she was afraid, as well, but was trying to stifle the fear. I think part of the fear I experienced stemmed from being self-conscious about the fact that I didn't know what was going on. That's such an interesting thing for me. Something I'll have to gnaw on for awhile. Hrmmm... maybe it has to do with control issues. *ponders*
I came away from the trip very moved. When I came to, I wasn't sure if I enjoyed it or not. The fear was most assuredly not enjoyable, but learning about myself and my perceptions very much is enjoyable, so it's kind of a toss-up. And since I really like pushing my own boundaries, I'll definitely be doing it again. It was one of the most intense things I've ever experienced, and all it took was ONE TOKE off my beloved, green glass water pipe.
For next time, I'd like to try it with N being closer to me, holding on to or touching me, and me keeping my eyes closed. I'd also like to try it outside in nature. I think that experiencing salvia in a natural setting where no attachment to the plants is felt in the first place might be easier for me somehow. Or with keeping my eyes closed, there are no objects to look at in the first place. I wonder what that would do for me.