Trusting my mind - Alone on LSD

Good morning, Charlotte.

Do you think having keys to a climbing gym makes for a more insightful trip?

Actually, I don’t know why I’m asking you. You’re not that into psychedelics, but you are into climbing.

Anyway.

I’ve taken mushrooms before. I know you’re supposed to be safe, and surrounded by people you trust, in a calm environment. I would definitely recommend this.

Then there’s me:

“Let’s try 200µg of LSD alone (which is considered a high dose for beginners). In a forest. At four in the afternoon. Let’s also not tell anybody.”

Facing the depths of your consciousness alone sounds like a fun and challenging time.

Right?

My main goal was to see if I could trust myself, that I would be okay no matter what happened.

Getting started

I sat down in the forest, staring at the grass without moving my eyes.

I started noticing patterns that would get more and more defined the longer I stared. As soon as I looked away, the patterns disappeared.

I knew this was the beginning.

The plan was to experience the come-up in the forest and get home before it got too intense. After walking around for a little bit, I decided it was time to head home.

Things were starting to move that weren’t supposed to be moving.

You’re not going to believe me, but my timing was impeccable! The moment I walked in the door, everything got very intense. Very. Intense.

Remember what it felt like when you looked into my eyes that one time? It’s that kind of intense. In a different way.

It was time for me to completely let go. It no longer mattered what I wanted, I had to give myself over and let the wave carry me for however long it wanted to.

I put on some music, laid down on my bed, and closed my eyes.

I have almost no memory of the thoughts that floated through my brain during this time.

Everything was colorful, and animated — like a cartoon. I also had a strange feeling that my soul, my being was somehow cleansed or even replaced.

The only thing I can remember is from the moment I opened my eyes, and… well… here’s what I wrote down immediately after:

“Blastoff sends me back as old asian monk dude guy. Not jn my body.lol”

I’ve got to remind you, writing was not easy at this point.

Do you know how you have a general image of what you look like in your mind? Well, when I opened my eyes I didn’t see myself.

I saw an elderly asian man, and my initial thought was: “My soul must’ve gotten lost somewhere else”.

I closed my eyes again to “recalibrate”, and upon opening them, I was back to normal.

As normal as tripping on acid for the first time can be.

The outside

So after successfully regaining my soul, I felt the urge to go outside again.

Since you do a lot of work with children, you know how curious they can be. They want to explore everything, test the limits of reality, and explore the unknown.

That was me, in a nutshell.

I didn’t know what it would feel like to experience the peak of an acid trip on the street.

Around people.

I wasn’t worried at all. Perhaps I should’ve been a little bit.

I wore a hoodie with pockets that had zippers so I wouldn’t lose anything. I got a bottle of water and made sure my phone was charged.

Things you would do to make sure a child is going to be okay when they go out to play. I wanted to take care of this child.

I felt as if me and my mind were working together as a team.

Heading out with music blasting in my ears turned out to be surprisingly unpleasant. Too much stimulation.

People looked weird.

It was almost like their features, imperfection, and facial asymmetry became more pronounced.

Their pupils were bigger, darker–weird looking in general.

I bet you would’ve looked amazing, though.

Or not. It’s hard to tell.

“Avoid collision!” The thought hit me when I saw the first person walking towards me on a narrow sidewalk.

I was certain that I could handle myself in this state of bliss and curiosity, but there was always a “what if”.

What if something unexpected happened? What if someone wanted to suddenly fight me?

Perhaps for bumping into them on the street.

In this situation, I got the first glimpse into my mind’s tendency to overthink problems.

The moment I got close to this person, my body knew exactly what to do.

It avoided a collision.

Alright, I know how this sounds, ok? Lame.

Something became very clear to me at that moment: I can trust myself even more than I thought.

You know how difficult it is to feel confident in a new situation, right?

What this has taught me is that I can rely on myself even when my mind is full of doubts.

Even though my conscious mind was doubtful, my “body” or my “soul” knew what it had to do.

That’s kind of reassuring, don’t you think?

Think about it: how much is our mind holding us back in everyday circumstances? How often do we decide we can’t do something when we so obviously can?

Let’s finally tell someone

After about four hours, and some intense sitting and staring, I decided to tell someone.

I texted my friend, you know him: the blonde, tall one. He also tried acid once, so I knew he’d be cool.

“Hey, what are you doing later?” I asked.

“I’ll be home in about an hour, we can hang out. Are you in?” He responded.

“I am in EVERYTHING right now” — I texted back.

“Damn.”

There was one very difficult thing about this trip: trying not to smile constantly.

Picture this: I am walking everywhere, crossing roads, standing next to people.

All I could think about was: “Man if these people only knew how blasted I am right now”.

That made me giggle like nothing else.

Seeing how serious everyone was made it worse.

People, can’t you see how beautiful the sky is right now?!

How colorful the flowers are, and how warm the sun is?!

Do you really have something better to do than to admire life?!

This is one thing I love about you. How you always stop and hold the roses that are in front of my door. For only a few seconds, you give them the attention they deserve.

You notice the beauty in life. That is truly magical.

The two of us

My friend finally arrived, I was sitting at the entrance of his flat, where we usually have coffee in the morning.

He looked weird too, like a cartoon character.

After having to keep a secret for so many hours, I was relieved to have someone by my side who knew what was going on.

I felt free like I could be weird, because I wasn’t doing it by myself. It does help to have a trip sitter, I guess.

Maybe one day you could be my trip sitter.

It was pitch black by the time we got to the forest, but I wasn’t worried. I had him. He was sober.

Then he rolled a joint.

He kept telling me some mind-bending statements.

As I was holding the lighter he goes:

“Think about how much humanity had to go through, from the time we discovered fire, to this point that I’m able to hold the fire in my hands.”

That hurt my brain, to say the least.

The forest is close to the climbing gym I work at. This gave me an idea.

Throughout the day I kept thinking about going to the gym, but it didn’t seem like a good idea. Usually, there are more than ten people who know me there.

People who know the sober me. At this point, I was still far from that version of myself.

It was 9:30, the gym closes at 10. I hope you see where I’m going with this.

To the gym, of course. After 10. How could I not?

The climb

I made a very unexpected discovery while climbing (bouldering, to be more specific).

My initial thought was to climb some easy problems and see what that felt like. It felt great. Almost like I was floating, I wasn’t getting tired, the movements were simply flowing.

Why not try something harder? I thought.

It was unbelievable: the way my body knew exactly what it had to do, how it had to move, how much force it needed to exert.

You know how when you’re about to do something difficult there’s this lead-up stage? You’re thinking through the possibilities, debating whether you’re going to make it or not.

The moment I put my hands on the starting hold, none of that was present. Not only did I do one hard move, but I also did several. Without any issues.

Since then, when I have to do a hard move on any problem, I do it the moment I feel that doubt creep in.

I should apply that to other areas of my life.

Those times when I have to express my feelings, for example.

But you knew that already.

Facing reality acid is

This thought crossed my mind during the trip:

“How much more rich, and wonderful life would be if we were constantly in this state”

That is a scary thought to have when you’re talking about a drug.

It’s hard to make memories this way. You’re so caught up in the present, not much stays with you after the moment is gone.

You’re trying to remember all the crazy and interesting experiences and revelations you’ve had, but most of it is gone by the time the trip is over.

You forget conversations with friends. Perhaps they were meaningful, but if you’re unfortunate, you won’t remember most of it.

I don’t think that’s a fulfilling way to live. Do you?

On the other hand, you can take with you how you felt, and build on that.

I noticed how many more times I stop and admire small, seemingly insignificant things.

They make me feel happy. A little happy.

But lots of little happys make for quite a big happy at the end of the day.

Also, how much less I worry about small and definitely insignificant things. I know they’ll sort themselves out in the end.

Alright, that’s all I’ve got for today. Thank you for reading my letter.

I miss you.