Part 3 of 3
It’s been 13 years since that DMT trip. I never took DMT again, nor do I want to. It was almost too good, or rather, too much of a cheat, if that makes sense.
I do believe that what I experienced was real, and not merely a grand hallucination. Of course, there is often a healthy skepticism that comes when gauging the realness or validity of any experience induced by a drug. Couldn’t my trip have been just a mental fabrication produced by the molecule? Was it any realer than a dream that occurs during sleep and evaporates as soon as awakening—with only a faint memory to give the story credence?
I don’t know, but who’s to say that this waking story we are living day-to-day isn’t simply a sustained dream we collectively imagine together?
Time will tell, I suppose. Perhaps it is like the verse from Corinthians: “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”
Well, here’s something I do know. A few years after I was extracted from my body by DMT and catapulted across the galaxy by some divine hand, I had another peak experience—this one completely sober though. I was driving from Tampa, Florida to the mountains of northeast Georgia. I had been going through a rough patch at the time and was seeking solutions in off-the-beaten-path spirituality. Kabbalah, shamanism, Zen Buddhism, and other esoteric dabbling. I yearned for transformation.
I decided to turn the rental car into a sauna-on-wheels—cranking up the electric heat and keeping the windows sealed. Pretty soon, I was sweating my balls off. Emotional catharsis ensued as the heat purified my body via perspiration. I kept the sweatbox going for at least 3 hours, then finally tapped out once I reached the Florida-Georgia line.
During the cool-down phase, I became progressively serene and clear-minded. I was in the zone: cruising along the highway and feeling carefree, but sharp too. I finally passed Atlanta and started ascending into the mountains. Suddenly, a peculiar sensation crept up at the base of my spine. It was pleasurable and prompted me to sit up straighter. Once I sat up in a fully upright posture, a lighting bolt of energy struck me to the core! Boom!—the doors of perception opened and I was seeing that radiant, life-force energy all around me. In particular, I could see the most lucid image of a flower hovering above my head (the so-called crown chakra). Through the windshield in front of me, and superimposed upon the air above the highway, a panorama of joyous faces scrolled across my vision like a film reel. How happy and benevolent those faces were!
On a tactile level, I could feel the energy flowing out of my hands and feet and entire body. It was intense as fuck! But it was an intensity made of spiritual ecstasy, to be sure!
The visual scenery simmered down, but the glowing radiance remained within my body. It was as if a light switch had been flipped inside my circuitry. And the luminosity has never turned off since that day. It waxes and wanes, flickers and brightens, but stays lit perpetually, in a place I cannot exactly identify, but nevertheless know to be the home of my soul.
There is an undeniable correlation between my DMT trip and my kundalini awakening, namely that of the subtle texture and transdimensional nature of conscious energy. However, the DMT trip was a shortcut, whereas the kundalini burst seemed to be more organic and a byproduct of my own efforts, mixed with the grace from a higher power (possibly even the higher Self).
Not surprisingly, in the past decade since my eventful car ride, I have devoted myself to practices like meditation, prayer, yoga, and other non-artificial means of expanding my awareness and tapping into the Infinite. My current career path of bodywork has affirmed my faith in the power of touch. Of all the five senses, I find touch to be superlative, as well as the ultimate bond between sight, sound, taste, and smell. Of course, there are many advanced combinations and derivatives of the primal senses, but even those abilities at last return to touch and feeling.
Please feel free to reach out to me…to ask questions, to share your story, to let me hold space for you in whatever way I can.
Thank you for reading! Onward and upward!
I would like to end with a piece from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself:
“I have said that the soul is not more than the body,
And I have said that the body is not more than the soul,
And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one’s self is,
And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud,
And I or you pocketless of a dime may purchase the pick of the earth,
And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the learning of all times,
And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero,
And there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheel’d universe,
And I say to any man or woman: Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.”
