Fungal Enlightenment

There was a time in my life when I occasionally used, shall we say, reality enhancements.  Maybe more than ‘on occasion’, but that’s neither here nor there.  I have very few vivid memories of specific nights, but there are a couple still floating around in this labyrinth I call a brain.  One such time involved a party at a friend’s house, alcohol and a fair amount of shrooms.

Pic of me and my buds a party
That’s me in the purple coat. It’s pretty obvious I’ve reached another plane

 

There were only a few of us there when we decided to partake in something a little more entertaining than alcohol.  Obviously we didn’t want to share with the rest of the guests that were on the way, so down the gullet went the fungus before more eager mouths arrived.  I remember playing some video game on the TV or something and eventually becoming mesmerized by some bright, colorful, rotating wheel. I don’t remember what it was or what it was for, only that the colorful wheel was the center of my world for the brief period of time that it was on the screen. I tried to look away but I couldn’t, it drew me in, it was beauty incarnate as far as I was concerned. And it made me happy, so I giggled.  A lot.  So much so that I had to pee. In the bathroom while I was sitting on the toilet continuing to giggle,  I noticed that the walls in the house were doing something very unusual:  They were breathing.  I could distinctly see the inhale and exhale as if I were right on top of its chest.   While initially intrigued, I could feel the anxiety growing.  Was the house… alive?

Out of the bathroom I ran, exclaiming to all what I had witnessed. No one would believe me, despite my taking them into the bathroom and showing them the walls that moved in a very distinct rhythmic pattern.  I sat on the couch in an annoyed huff trying to figure out how to get them to see what was so plain to me.  Within moments, I could feel myself slipping in between the very large cushions. It was like the couch was a large mouth and I was being pulled into it.  The house apparently didn’t want me to tell other people its secret. I struggled, I cried out, but no one came to my rescue. They couldn’t see, they didn’t know!  The house WAS alive, and it was trying to eat me!

I took the dog and went outside to avoid becoming dinner for the carnivorous dwelling. I was safe out there, I was sure of it.  And, I needed to warn the arriving guests about the house.  Now lots of people talk to their dogs, but how many dogs actually talk back?  This one did. The dog could understand me and we sat outside on the front step and had quite a conversation.  Somewhere in the midst of it I noticed the towering oak tree in the yard trying to get my attention. It waved its arms back and forth in the air and whispered to me, then its friends joined the chorus too until they had my complete and undivided focus.  I closed my eyes and listened, it was if nature itself was speaking to me, directly to my soul. And I could not only hear it, but feel it.  Someone came up the walk, another guest for the party.  They stopped and said hello and I told them that they needed to listen to the trees, that they were in the middle of saying something very important.  The arriving guest patted me on the shoulder and asked, “Is there any more of whatever you had in there?”  What the hell were they talking about?   I warned them not to go in there, that the house was alive. That the walls breathed and the couch was a hungry, mean mouth.  It was to no avail, it was like the house was drawing them in and making me seem crazy somehow.  They wouldn’t listen to me, and only kept insisting that they wanted something I had.  Well, what I had was enlightenment, and I was trying to pass it on but they couldn’t seem to grasp it.  Something told me it would be okay though, maybe the trees, or maybe the grass. But it was something out there that put me at peace again.

I remained that way until I woke up the next morning on the lawn.  With a bug in my mouth. And dew on my clothes.  I’m not sure why, but things didn’t seem too clear that morning and the trees seemed to be laughing at me instead of singing. I tried to recapture the feeling of oneness, the infinite wisdom I had inadvertently triggered and bore witness to. It was gone with the moonlight and the morning sun only brought with it a dry mouth and headache.   So much for enlightenment and reaching a higher plane.