Sometimes I think that how we normally see time is a horizontal line, and on a single night of taking a powerful psychedelic, the timeline goes vertical. In those hours, I experience time very differently. My entire life looking back can seem to have passed in an instant - or rather than having lived my entire life moment by moment, it is now just a collection of thoughts implanted in my consciousness merely to give these moments of sublime confusion some sort of context, to contrast the eternal with the mundane - just so I can get a glimpse of how impressive it is.
In your regular life, I assume that the details are meaningful, that experiences are contiguous. In an ego death experience, those days can stretch and shatter before me, scattered like stars in the sky - in a sense, disconnected and impersonal - but in another sense, entirely personal, as a small part of an immense vision. In those hours, time lasts forever, placing my life in an unfathomable context.
But that night, sweating my ass off, lying on a bed in a hot brick cabin with a tin roof, my brain stimulated from the 5 peyote caps I’d eaten, I didn’t have such an experience - not quite. I saw visions, synapses within my brain, firing and dancing, electricity jumping from one brain cell to another. I wasn’t going to get to sleep for a while.
Thoughts started to float into my head, saying that anything in life can be changed. There is a limitless number of realities, and at any moment you can switch, entering another place. The money you’ve earned, the skills you’ve gained, anything you think is real and valuable can be changed in an instant.
I saw a vision of a little man, strolling in a dark, futuristic city - another world. Above the street there were a series of interconnected tubes - a public transport system. The man reached a corner, where there was an entrance to the tube system. He entered a sort of capsule, to shoot himself off towards work. The city seemed dismal, but the man seemed content.
I can find myself at home in my house, I found myself at home in my hometown, and in the inner city suburbs Melbourne, in Guadalajara. The truth is, I can be at home wherever I go. That is the gift. Just being somewhere is enough to be comfortable.
Despite the heat, the drugs, and the tailless whip scorpion waiting for its prey on the ceiling, I got to sleep.
To be continued...
My name is Kurt Robinson. I grew up in Australia, but now I live in Guadalajara, Jalisco. I write interesting things about voluntaryism, futurism, science fiction, travelling Latin America, and psychedelics. Remember to press follow so you can stay up to date with all the cool shit I post, and follow our podcast where we talk about crazy ideas for open-minded people, here: @paradise-paradox, like The Paradise Paradox on Facebook here, and subscribe to The Paradise Paradox on YouTube, and on iTunes