My 5-MEO-DMT Experience — Communion with the Caravan of the TransCosmic Pollen

Yesterday I experienced something beyond all human expression that I must share openly. Yesterday I consumed a clinical dose of 5-MeO-DMT (also known as 5-methoxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine), which is a powerful and relatively obscure psychedelic and entheogen of the tryptamine class. [*note, I did this outside of the USA, and with medical supervision]

Considered to be perhaps the most powerful psychedelic substance in the world, it’s found naturally in a wide variety of plant species, as well as in the venom of a single psychoactive toad species (Bufo Alvaris). After the experience I spent the day researching more about it, and I’d recommend that if anyone is called to the experience, to only do so under professional and sacral guidance. I also discovered this book which I now want to read by Dr. Ralph Metzner detailing a more medical perspective called, The Toad and the Jaguar a Field Report of Underground Research on a Visionary Medicine:  Bufo Alvarius and 5-Methoxy-Dimethyltryptamine.

Like its close relatives DMT and bufotenin (5-HO-DMT), it has been used as an entheogen by mystics and shamans for thousands of years. My experience was curated by two clinically trained medical professionals, and a entheogenic medicine guide. Healers all. I was instructed to take several intentions into the experience, and also to ask specific questions to the medicine. I asked to know the universe, to understand why we are here, and what role I am destined to play.

With great admiration and gratitude I report this lesson of spiritual practice as a form of ethnographic psycho/social research that also serves as a form of intentional debrief and honest inquiry seeking to share and integrate my experience.

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Within seconds of inhaling the vapor I was soaring in an absolute cacophony of pure bliss. I have never experienced anything close to it before. All of the wisdom of the universe and life itself began flushing and pulsating through me. In an instant, I received a divine download incomprehensible to me before that moment. It was the pinnacle of awe, and yet transcendent of awe. Unlike any other psychedelic substance I’ve ever tried, it was non-hallucinogenic and yet provided unimaginable clarity and communion with Transcosmic Supra-consciousness, the great expanse of God. Unlike any other altered-state I’ve ever encountered, there was nothing being created, but rather it was Creation — affirmed and infinitely exposed, rapturously revealed.  It was the exploding wow, and the wow of contraction simultaneously. Mysterios unfurled into the swarming scents of bio-luminescent OM. Innocent welcoming and unfathomable palatial power. Higher power as we conceive it made irrelevant through wondrous reverence. Unconditional fractal love and savory mist of divine essence. Fluttering. It was eternal omnipotent illumination. An enveloping fragrance of boundless and everlasting  presence.

The medicine doctor and nurse who presided over my trip held my hands and guided me gently to the ground as my full lungs released the vapor, eyes closed, body irrelevant, ego fully dissolved. I kept saying wow. Wow. Wow. I was smiling the most giant smile I have ever smiled. Anxiety was expelled from my body — it was the most powerful tai chi breaths I have ever breathed and I did it naturally. It’s like becoming a universal velvety emotional feeling. It was a feeling of overwhelming joy and cosmic embrace — absolute unity with the beyond, within. One heartbeat. Swarming. Reprocessing like the act of stitching Love itself. Stitching of energy, whereas the energy is an Infinite violet hot white light as soft as feathers, still and flowing. Morphogenesis, a field of euphoria and frenzied elation teeming and abounding throughout my unified self, awash in blessedness — the entirety of my electro-magnetic nervous system, cleansed. It was like a sustained full psyche, full body orgasm. It was an incomprehensibly glorious melting of transconscious awareness.

Autotrophs, heterotrophs, detritivores — all propelled as one pollinating force — spiritual substance and the sustenance of grace.

The truth I received is as follows:

1. We are a carnival of cosmic pollen, pure love, infinite reprocessing of light. I was instructed to return to a piece of unpublished writing I wrote in 2014. I am meant to share this vision with the world. [*note I have fulfilled this duty and copy and pasted that piece of writing below. When I went back to read it today, I’m absolutely amazed. Yesterday I experienced what I had already expressed — somehow — three years prior]

2. It is a great honor to be of the order of the artist, and divine providence requires the long game. I was instructed to embrace life from a meta-perspective that includes karma and dharma and the churning of cosmic life. I was reminded not to be short-sited by ego-consciousness, and to continue my faithful gardening. It is an honor to do so.

3. I embodied the great suffering of child slavery — not in detail, but en masse as a modern phenomenon. On the cusp of weeping, I was reminded that my courage is a great honor, a duty to serve as a transcosmic warrior, art as my sword — I am to fight for their freedom and liberate the oppressed children of the world — to cleanse and reprocess and pollenize as sire of the next generation. I was reminded that it is a great honor to be of the order of the divine warrior. I was reminded that it is a great honor to take on such a duty, and that I have only been given this assignment because I am able, ready, and destined to see it through as instructed. I will not be sad. I will fight joyfully.

4. This medicine is sacred. Its mis-use will be avenged. I was instructed to make this clear.

The above all happened within 30 minutes, with no side-effects whatsoever. I drove away from the clinic, not only completely sober; but completely alive. All negative energy was dispelled from my psyche and body, and I felt a renewed sense of purpose. Deep gratitude and thankfulness to the medical professionals who served to guide and facilitate this most intimate of journeys. I’m also grateful for the continued research being conducted around the world into this phenomenon and medicine, including the pivotal work of the California Institute of Integral Studies. I am incredibly grateful for the truth I have received, and the communion to which I am ceaselessly bound.

Below is the piece of writing referenced above. This piece of writing poured out of me in late 2014 and I never really thought about it again until yesterday when it was referenced to me almost instantly by the medicine.  I went into the experience seeking to learn of the great mystery of the universe. What the medicine showed me, is that everything that we seek is already within us, and has already been expressed.  Cheers!

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Dawning.

Behold the emissary of profound Universality – a being beyond space and time – a whisper.  The future is the coming of a great dawn, and who be the water bearer of divine grace but thee?  You, peaceful brothers and sisters, the Future’s beloved, have dreamt of returning to that perfect dream, that ideal vision of heaven on earth; returning to that emerald city which is like a subtle memory of the dream. Eternity is the mirror, and you are its reflection. The pollen of stardust seeds the grounds of the sacred tree of life, where magic is continuously reborn in the soul of the Universe. Our love of this quest, this attraction to the great mysteries of the cosmos, is the same spirit that drives our love of science and reason and spirituality.

The drums and bells and laughter of a cosmic caravan approaches through fog, and a violet and orange light spills onto the mist — a mystical pulsing glow. A child wanders through the gatherings and happenings that make up the moving carnival, in awe of the virgin fragrances and faces; different objects and activities in cacophonies all seemingly an expression of the One Zillion Things exploding in a flowering ecstasy worthy of the child’s awe-struck gaze – raptured and intimate wonderment. We can all remember this subtle place in our own hearts.

We sense a time and place of innocence, warm surrender, and joyful discovery;  an Olympus of learning and growth and wisdom, power of knowledge flooding into the soul through your eyes and your touch and your smell and your taste and the symphonic subtleties of magical sounds on the edge of the Cosmos. Within the womb of this splendid caravan, the windows are eternal from dawn to dawn.

It becomes clear the time has come to shed my skin; for the enchantment which calls all unto her calls me, silent at first, and then clear as pure tone. Absorbing and dissolving into the seed nature of being, rejoining pure bliss. Aum, I am Nada you say, as am I my friend; as am I.

I embark as some winged guardian, naked and free, harvesting the harvesters, flourishing the garden and tending to the cycles. Peace as boundless as the cosmic oceans, and love infinitely as vast.

Every seed a portal, every portal a season, every season a fruiting in need of harvest, each harvest a celebration. For every tree a root to quench, and a fruit to gather.

Behind the vale of a ruby red and golden curtain, a mysterious spirit master, mysteries dancing around him in bright and piercing eyes which abundantly amplify and reflect the marvelous jewels of the heavens.

The light of the caravan blazed onward through the dark empty cold, and I sat with this master. Speechless spirits in love upon the sanctuary of the cosmic lotus, all meaning revealed in a buzz of crisp awakening and a splash of spring water across the face – tears of joy. Oh Divine Grace, deep is thy longing for the desires of your heart, to know the truth of it all, and to share it with these fine creatures HERE.

All I know is of the great lake between the divine within and without, and this lake is but a reflection, and these reflections exist because of the other. Beyond reason and death, there is honor for the master to endure.

To love is to serve with childlike curiosity and virtuous impeccability. You know this, and you know that you know this. Do not deny your song of freedom. Love is experiencing the great miracle of its own divine presence. Laughing as loud as you can, crying just as hard – you accept love as the only ecstasy to know, and it alone is strong enough to endure the ages.

The non-dweller has a soul in the house of tomorrowland, but this house is locked to you even through the portal of dreams. The guardians ask ye, “and what of divine providence?” Each rocket requires a destination, and every rocket requires a platform. Let the platform be stable, and the rocket sharp and nimble. To aim is to weave the web of our common glory with a golden needle.

Beyond pain, joys, and virtues, there are those who are crickets. For crickets, love IS the work. Treasures consist only of what you craft and give away freely. To give freely, however, one must become certain that one deserves it. For the ultimate gift of life is giving. The giver should be thankful; for what rapture conceals our ability to become a divine instrument? To be in debt is to doubt, and to be a giver is to be but a witness of divine providence.

You may rest assured that a sacred singing is happening, and to remain silent is the ultimate misfortune, the only regret.

The future was assigned to you when your dream was born, and unto it you will feel the gentle tug of eternity. Loving life by creating the future is to become intimately woven with the ultimate secret of the divine source. A Zenful craftsman builds as if the beloved will embrace it. The future comes from your actions made visible.  To be indifferent is to become one who lives with a bitter distaste beyond all reasonable doubt, a poisonous scourge.

Therefore let it be known, the greater the doubt, the greater the faith. Just as the pain of love pales in comparison to her joys. All we are is laughter and tears. Joy is sorrow, and sorrow is joy. Let it be.

A Zenful Future combines the hearth and the field, the one and the many. There is no city wall, and there need not be iron flesh or tamed obedience awaiting the lonely seeker. The Future is not one of comfort, and it’s coming will only be realized by embracing the grand challenges that abound upon the path of its coming.

So hear this my children; build your Future upon the wings of a cosmic caravan, immune to the voids and iron masses. Immune to the scourge and the dark tug of thugs. The future abides both songs of light and the silences of the night. Only bountiful marketplaces exist upon which there is no peak and no trough, but only a sacred multiplicity, a symphony of crickets circled upon a sacred tree of life. Cosmic winds rattle each leaf in God’s infinite forest and they bristle on the wind as the song of sirens.

The place where the cosmic caravan is bound is devoid of the desire for freedom and fulfillment because all are naked and unbound, beyond understanding, beyond kings and slaves, shadows and lanterns. All guests are honored in equal heights. Tricks and mysteries and delights beyond the pleasures you will ever know or understand. Shedding my skin once more, only then am I truly free. Let it be.

The treasures of the future are already known in the infinite depths of your heart. Each truth is but a grain in a great beach of sand, and there are many footprints, and many petals in the holy flowering. As sand, rocks defy gravity and fly upon the wings of the aether. A rock lighter than air, is sand. One are the same.

The future can only be known by the seeker of her fragrant trace, and each seeker is but a holographic reflection of the enchanted master in his golden ruby robes. Wisdom has been sowed into your heart, and only you can tend to it and see it flourish. Never give up hope, for there is always a harvest. Life is in the making.

The timeless spirit within you also hears the beckoning of the harvest, and memories converge into dreams. The entire cosmos is still ringing inside you, undivided, your branches rattle brittle in the winds.

All must give and receive, just as the tree of life grasps through its roots, so to does it blossom in ripe fruits and cosmic seed.

The ultimate good is not in the longing of the future, but it is the longing self itself – the transcending expansion of being, to which we owe our gratitude. The future is one of ecstasy and sweet communion, an invisible kingdom of abundant pleasures. The wings of desire bind you to her course.

Let it be known, that I am not speaking, I am listening, and thus it was spoken. Oh ye seeds of joyful transcendence, rest your hearts on the wind and throw your blessed seeds to the future for which you long.

As the caravan passed the cosmos rippled across the heart of the universe and I could hear my tiny heartbeat pound as if all of life existed inside a single bass drum; and the seeds fallen where they may, and not in vain, I opened my eyes for the first time. Promises of caravans to come. Love remains in the silent embrace of a timeless womb.

I am a small drop of mist now, a vapor, Nada. My spirit has come to you, and our dreams have become one in joyful desire. Within you is the path of your quest, and within you is the wisdom for the journey. You and me we are the future, and I alone I am you, but we together can build the future, if we together can act as one. The thirst which I have for life, is that same thirst which calls unto us for quenching, that longing for some future wellspring of divine pleasure. You are not meant to dwell upon the earth or the heavens my brothers and sisters, but to roam free upon the cosmic winds as the great caravan in the sky.

In the future it is told that once upon a time there was a dream that none of us can remember having dreamt, a lotus upon its own tomorrow; and that only this shall we keep, save what has been kept. Remember that the great caravan will come again, we shall meet again in another dream, we will offer our hands again in the creation of another carnival and it will go forth with a great trumpeting into the universal brume. Another seed, another season to come. Onward bound, we find our way home. The great turtle in the sky closes his eyes, awake for the first time.

We are stardust, and more than stardust. We require sustenance and quenching that can only come from the food and water of the cosmic divine, the burgeoning waters of pure elemental force.

There is grasping aversion. Beyond grasping, there is a life raft; but this too will evaporate. Why grasp for that which is ungraspable?

The caravan is becoming of the cosmic divine, a replenishing wanderlust.

With nourishment comes ignorance because we set aside some of our animal instincts in an effort for civility. Yet by leaving behind some of our most violent and reprehensible qualities, we perhaps become immune to some of our best instincts. Divine weavers and warriors stitching and stitching.

The caravan drifts, its members joyfully helping others as they go. In search of home, true north as it were – these caravans are but sheep on green fields, and these sheep are but simulations of sheep on green fields. Every sheep a dream, and every dream a message from God. Shepherds, warriors and weavers awash with cosmic pollen in holy communion.