Into the Woods

Wander deep enough into the woods, and all your frivolities will be stripped away. Then the path will vanish to reveal what remains of you.

Psychedelics tend to bring up a dizzying stream of thoughts. The torrent can be stunning as they roll in hot and heavy, dripping with gravity, meaning, and insight.

But when Justin, my friend visiting from afar, and I gave ourselves over to the trees last week, what I received in return was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

(There’s been a lot of that going on lately.)

The attentive, probing body scan I always begin my mushroom trips with in search of thoughts, emotions, and experiences to let go of, was over in about five minutes.

As shared in Meeting the Mantis, there’s a clinical operator-patient vibe present during these scans. And when I realized that there was nothing in need of energetic flossing, freeing, and releasing, I felt like a kid who woke up to a surprise snow day. 

I was ready to frolic through the bush and sing for the trees.

So I slipped away from the tree fort some unknown stranger lovingly built in my secret spot in the woods near my home, and made my way through the bush towards the Lightning Tree, the Spider Tree, the Climbing Tree, and so much more.

All the while, my mind orbited a new unfurling that began the day before this woodsy adventure, and has left me reeling.

Forgive me. I’m not prepared to share the details of this unfurling yet. I’m not sure I could even find the words if I tried. But I find myself needing to write about this experience. I don’t think I can pen a Whimsie about anything else right now.

My journey deeper into the forest was a broken one: bursts of movement, as if using a mushroom in Mario Kart, followed by periods of stillness and deep contemplation.

Then at one point, I felt like I used three of those speed burst mushrooms in a row, and charged through the bush like a star-drunk stallion released from the heavens. 

Awash in excitement and joy, I stopped paying attention to my surroundings while I shot ahead—which led to, for the first time ever, suddenly feeling quite disoriented, turned around, and lost. I’ll confess to a few minutes of panic.

I know these woods well, and I have a strong intuitive sense of direction. But between being held in the peak of the mushrooms’ strength, my head floating with the stars, and having gone deeper into these woods than I’ve ever gone before…

I found myself spinning in circles unable to find the way back. 

The path had faded. No phone. No water. No food. 

So I had a much-needed pee, which made thinking infinitely easier. Obviously since I’ve lived to tell the tale, I reoriented and found my way back to familiar territory.

All the while, my mind circled, circled, circled one sacred subject.

The reasons for this uniqueness are two-fold, and wonderful:

1. This unfurling will be life-changing, should it continue.

2. The absence of ‘stuff’ to work through is what allowed for the above.

In other words, my year of stillness, the deep dive into the Temple of my Heart, and the energetic rewiring that I’ve made my full-time job this year are bearing fruit.

Through the winter, I planted seeds.

Through the spring, I nourished the seeds.

Through the summer, the seeds have burst into bloom—and some are ripening.

Harvest season is nigh.

And this year’s harvest looks dazzling beyond belief.

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander