A morning cup of 🍄

I let go of measurement and go by feeling. This is my feeling.

I had a free morning to myself today. It’s cold, below 20 degrees.

I pulled out the remaining bit of dried 🍄 I had left from my last batch, and chopped it all up. I didn’t measure, it felt right. Not too much, but not too little.

I brewed up a tea with local honey and green tea.

Then, I asked the mushroom to show me what I needed to see. I trust fully, no designs, no plans.

I drank the tea, and chewed up the mushrooms.

I went outside and grabbed some firewood and started a fire.

Then the waves started to crash over me. It feels like a camera aperture. The focus shifts, going from my head down to my belly. It’s a slight discomfort, uneasiness that waves from top down.

I start journaling, describing the feelings.

I feel that wave flowing down from my head to my belly, crash after crash. The colors are shifting. My shift also moves. One moment I’m deep in this world, the next I shift to the fire. An intense focus and narrowing of the aperature.

Now I feel time on a loop, the same moment now on repeat, a loop. Little moments slow down. My wife is in the other room, but now she feels distant, far away.

I’m alone.

My focus shifts back to this reality. Then everything feels quiet and paused.

The soundtrack is on a loop, stuck in this moment.

It goes back to normal, then stuck again.

I lose the ability to make sense of this. My clarity shifts, one moment I can comprehend this reality, another the words make no sense.

I start seeing this all from a 3rd person point of view.

My journal notes go from well crafted sentences and paragraphs, to a line of words. Each stroke loses grasp of this reality.

It takes all my strength and focus to hold onto the words, to stay in this reality.

My left hand freezes, I see it, but it’s no longer my hand. It’s frozen on the page, my right hand struggles to squeeze out the last words on the page, then I’m in a different reality.

It’s no so much another dimensions, but rather a perspective. I see the world outside of my own point of view, removed from my ego.

As I pop back into reality, I question whether this is real, and reality inverts completely, that this reality no longer makes sense. How can this be real, because there’s another shift. What is reality? Everything we know, and in a blip of a moment, disappears. How would we know that this is real, and not just a dream, not just a simulation.

This cycle continues for the better part of two hours. I learn how it works. I know when I’m back to reality. I jump back on my journal to write what I feel.

The writing makes no sense, because of how twisted my perception of reality became. I’m questioning whether this is real.

In one of the cycles, I have enough awareness to go for a bathroom break, to refresh my coffee. It sits there, going cold because I go to another place again.

Then I come back, and I leave a note for my wife.

If you see this, I took a bit too much. I’m okay. But I’m going through dimensions. I don’t know how long this ride will last.

As I cycle back, I refresh the fire with another log.

Each trip away from this reality happens. I let go, not fighting to hold on to here.

Here comes and it goes. I do my thing, and then it’s gone.

I don’t matter.

It doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters.

Because the only thing I know is that it goes away.

There’s no point in trying to make any meaning in the now, other than to experience it, and then the wave carries me on.

Slowly I come back, the waves fade.

There’s a feeling of contentment, the letting go of the ego, the release of meaning, purpose, or control.

I am here, and I won’t be.

❤️