When I was twelve years old, I became obsessed with Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin. The psychedelic music of the late sixties and early seventies was a clear reflection of a paradigm shift in human consciousness. Music had expanded tremendously from the previous decade’s shallow pop tunes about driving around in cars and asking ladies “do you want to dance with me, sugar?” Even as a naive Christian boy from a repressed and sheltered culture, I perceived the colors that doused this music. It’s odd to me that this psychedelic explosion is now sold on $40 Target t-shirts, but that’s beside the point. The magic plant was working on me before I met her. I was singing these songs and learning them on guitar.
And so castles made of sand fall in to the sea…eventually
I went through my first bout of serious suicidal depression when I was thirteen. I found myself thousands of miles from home due to circumstances I don’t feel like explaining, but I was subjected to some pretty horrific bullying and violence. During this time, the only people who were kind to me were the stoners.
I stopped believing in any sort of God, and adopted a belligerent atheism. My opinion at the time was, “if there is a God, he is a cruel piece of shit.” I was a scared animal, backed into a corner. My nihilism and bitterness tried their best to keep me safe from seemingly infinite wells of sadness.
A couple years later, I was fortunate enough to be riding around in the front seat of a truck on Missionary Ridge in Chattanooga. The driver had a strain called Blue Satellite. It was the greenest and shiniest weed I’d ever seen at that point in my life, undoubtedly grown by outlaw hippie smugglers in NorCal. We smoked it while we were cruising around, looking down below at the Tennessee Valley. The driver put on Dayvan Cowboy by Boards of Canada, as the plant overtook my mind and spirit.
When the dissonant humming erupted in to the tremolo guitar, it was as if a roto rooter began working its way through the canals in my mind. The plant started decompressing a zip file that had always lay dormant in my mind. The beauty in the world was undeniable at that moment. I could no longer subscribe to my previous ways of thinking. I no longer knew irrefutably that the universe is just a cipher that aimlessly rushes nowhere.
She showed me the rhythm underneath it all. She showed me the overarching meta-patterns of interconnectedness. She told me through this experience that she loved me, a feeling I had forgotten.
Unfortunately, I lacked the capacity to integrate this experience in to a life of mindfulness. I was a young teenager who wanted more mind altering experiences, so I began chasing powders and pills and drank as much as I could.
Fast forward another half decade, I spent a period of three and a half years sober before returning to the plant. I met a dear friend tending to a handful of grows around Denver who loved the plant. I was immediately spellbound by this beautiful spirit.
My relationship wasn’t always balanced. It took me nearly a decade to learn to interface with her mindfully, and even still I have moments where I get out of balance. But my karma yoga with this plant has given me more than I ever dreamed.
It has helped me become more:
- patient with my loved ones
- mindful of the way I talk to myself and others
- healthy and considerate about my impact on the living world
- present and disciplined in my work
devoted to my dharma
I don’t deny that many people use this plant as nothing more than a tool for attaining pleasure. To those people I would say,
Take some time to listen to what she is saying. Spend more time in meditative and mindful spaces. Chase your pleasure if you wish, but rest assured there is far more in those spaces than blasts of quickly fading euphoria.
On the otherhand, I don’t deny that Cannabis can make many people anxious and uncomfortable. To those people I would say,
Trust that there is wisdom to be found in this discomfort. She often shows us narratives that don’t serve us, while putting the thinking mind under a microscope. Often times, she shows us incongruencies in our hearts and mind. Addressing this disconnect can help us become more embodied and authentic versions of ourselves.
I am overwhelmingly grateful for the people’s psychedelic. May she grow symbiotically in living organic soil for millennia to come!
If any of this resonates with you, feel free to comment or send me a message at contact@fernfractals.net