Why psychedelics and meditation didn't prevent my burnout (part 5)
The caveat to mystical experiences and how I fell into the Cult of Productivity
Last week I dove into the warning signs of impending burnout, from increasing my sugar/caffeine intake to more serious physical symptoms. This week I ask an important question: Why didn't all those years of sitting cross-legged on the cushion and ingesting ancient shamanic substances prevent me from working until I crashed?
1/ My friend San Pedro
Five months before my first burnout episode I decided to stop by the Smartshop down the street from my house to buy a totally rad Christmas present for my friend and I: Two pieces of forearm-length psychedelic San Pedro cactus.
The cactus contains the psychoactive substance mescaline, also found in its more popular cousin, the button-shaped Peyote. While I'd had the pleasure of trying shrooms, ayahuasca and a few other mind-bending goodies, this was my first time dabbling with the cactus. And yes, you can just buy this stuff in the Netherlands, although technically it's illegal to consume.
Aldous Huxley famously took peyote and had an ego-death experience, inspiring him to detail his journey in The Doors of Perception:
“But the man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less cocksure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable Mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend.”
Excellent. Given my frustration with my move to the Netherlands — I wasn't nearly enjoying it as much as I thought I would be, largely due to the fact I was taking work too seriously — that sounded exactly like the kind of humbling perspective-shift I needed.
But first, we needed to get the plant ready. It was a bit of a process to prepare, which I felt added to the whole ritual.
The psychoactive mescaline is found in the green part between the skin and the flesh of the plant. You have to remove the spikes, peel the skin off, and then go through a lengthy process of blending and boiling it for several hours before it's palpable.
Eventually, we got this green, viscous liquid that would take us on a 8-12+ hour journey into the depths of our minds.
Finally, it was show-time. We switched on the Shpongle playlist on Spotify and my friend and I each gulped down 1 liter of this liquid. As the sludge hit our taste buds we wrinkled our noses and drank it real slow. Not because we were enjoying it in any way, but because otherwise we would have puked. It was bitter like goya and had a snot-like texture.
The onset of the plant's shamanistic powers was slow. Around one hour, lights became brighter, colors took on a vibrant tone, and beams of light seemed to have solidity. But nothing too crazy yet.
A couple of hours later I realized I couldn't stand up. Oh, shit. Here it comes. Ahhhhhhhh….
“This is the shamanic dance in the waterfall. This is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering its a feather bed…”
— Terrance McKenna
I was firmly planted on the floor, feeling for a moment like a hundred-ton statue. I was unable to move my arms and felt something rising from inside me: a giggle (at what, I’m not sure), and then I burst into uncontrollable laughter.
For a few minutes (or hours, I couldn't tell), it felt a little bit like I was descending into the unknown on a boat being steered by a mad man. Kind of like the Tunnel scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.1
There's always a bit of a "crazy dance" with psychedelics. Your internal and external experience oscillates so rapidly between kaleidoscopic images and emotions and memories and ideas to the changing reality of intense colors in front of you that it can be a little bit disorienting. It's scary if you try and control it — because you can't — but funny and cathartic if you just let yourself accept it and enjoy the ride.
The San Pedro felt like a mix between magic mushrooms and MDMA. The visuals being close to shrooms, and the flow-y opening up of feelings close to MDMA. The only difference being a long trip (I think it was like 8-9 hours at least) that was closer to LSD or ayahuasca.
On the emotional side, I had a few deep conversations about my childhood, sharing stories that I hadn't shared with anyone. I voiced my appreciation for my friend. I told my wife I loved her and some other nice things. It felt good. I felt more connected to everyone and everything.
And then, as I was tripping my balls off, I had a brilliant idea:
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