But it didn’t start like that.

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My understanding of psychedelic was all based on hearsay up to a few weeks ago. Rumours about magic eyes, the insights that it’ll yield, a revelation about the life we’ve (un)consciously led and the injuries it’ll do to our egos. It seems like a grand adventure.

Not that I wasn’t afraid. I’ve found stories online that may put off the mildly curious. A pair of teens on psilocybin in Bali walked right out of their 7th floor window to their instant death. Anecdotal story of folks unable to get out of bed for weeks following a bad trip. I guess, high risk, high reward. My previous risk averse self would have been intrigued but happily shelf the thought for years. And occasionally break out in platitudes about how it’ll be something I’ll like to try.

But following the realisation that experiences (and the willingness to pay) are a way to probe deeper into what I want out of this thing we call life, I had to take the plunge. This might be post-rationalisation of the experience of being tempted by siren songs; a glimpse of a hauntingly aesthetic experience. But the analogy ends there - I had no adequate preparations, like pre-constraining my body(read: tying myself to a mast). But if I acquired newfound capabilities or upended my worldview in the process, it’s all fair game.

Initially, I thought that I would try to find magic mushrooms in Southeast Asia after seeing this video but soon learnt that I’ll be setting myself up for a journey into the good night without an experienced mycophile. So I casually mentioned this to my best friend who is studying in Australia and he suggested that I head up to Byron Bay. With this destination in mind, I booked tickets to the nearest city I could fly into in the following days. It was a tedious search for a guide as all this activity was underground. A week passed without any real leads. But by sheer luck, I found one which was happening right that weekend in another city.

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I was on the verge of drinking Syrian Rue and Acacia with the intention of uncovering my own truths and true north. Which will help me to develop a greater sense of agency to navigate this vast world that we inhabit (and perhaps the other realm too).

What I got during the first night was transpersonal - I felt the ethereal presence of a counter lamp transfigured into a sun god that carried me above the clouds where all was bright and airy. Things seem light and laughable now but seeing me leave my body behind was disquieting, to put it mildly. But what struck me most was when my guide woke me up to make sure I was not out cold. This brief interface back with the physical realm was shocking, for in those moments, I saw the very fabric of reality in the form of energy flows/force fields. And they were radiating from him. It was a surreal scene from another dimension where all was dark and the only light were our very energy.

There were tons more I experienced but scenes after scenes meld into each other in beat with the tracks in the background. One of which made me purge; a deeply primal and guttural feeling. But I no longer carry recollections of that sequence, or any other, for that matter. And they may be mingled with all the dreams that I have equally let slip. I am deeply upset about this.

The second night with ayahuasca as the lead plunged me deeper. I was repeatedly muttering “It all makes sense. It all makes sense” when I emerged.

Again, I saw myself transcending different realms. And in those dimensions, where time and place were of little consequence, a deep sense of powerlessness overcame me. I was in the company of seemingly immortal beings that were of all manner and shape. And intellect, strength, or any other earthly attributes held no power. My hands flashed orange and were almost fluid as it dissolved into the fabric of reality (which was like a universal solvent). I had to rub my face desperately to anchor myself into this realm that we know and to struggle against this inundation of ennui.

As time did not stretch across this dimension, patchworks of entire reels of lives, with all its joys and tears, could be winded through. Of note, my parents and different realities of myself. Even lives which did not, and will not, brush against such an experience. Social building blocks that uphold society as we know it - jobs and its payout, are veneers that have stretched till they have started to fracture. We are much closer to anarchy than we may think possible.

Order and rules that have been upheld in response are sensible coping mechanisms; all to stave off the brutish conditions that our species endured through the ages. I viscerally felt the hills and valleys of emotions that have brought us to where we are today. This recollection did not extend to the specifics of the events, except for one, the subjugation of the native tribes by rational colonisers. The seemingly insane laughter and wails of folks on psychedelics (or who can see beyond the thin veneers) terrorised the rational faculty. And it was too much to bear. So I (we/they) were punished. And for what purpose? A deep knowing about the conditions of our mortal existence as a single manifestation of this awareness. And so bound by the dimensions that we think we know.

This disentanglement was only made possible by the dissolution of knowingness and contact with the unconscious that governs the flow and unity of life. Little did we expect, our rational faculties largely fended off the grips of the unconscious and its associated terrors.

But we have come full circle with the gradual introduction of psychedelics back into culture. And we bear witness to that - the latest instantiation at this very moment in this retreat - the magic and allure in the stories that are untold within us.

This was incredibly grounding, and yet, overwhelming. It felt like my physical manifestation was stretched to the seams by such a realisation. A truth that swept me back ashore, back to a deep appreciation of the constraining, and perhaps dulling, capacities of our adapted senses. This places a different tincture on my interpretation of ‘magic eyes’ at this point. But boy, was I glad to slip back into my everyday consciousness, finding myself relishing in the sheer luxurious comfort (simple pleasure) of a blanket brushing against my face. And this is something the immortals I had witnessed would have no ability to comprehend - the multitude and vibrancy of sensations, emotions and surprises that beckon every turn in our condition. For in those moments, what I (they) would give to feel it all again.