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OfflineMyceliumMaiden
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Registered: 03/13/23
Posts: 6
Loc: Florida
Last seen: 7 months, 10 days
Trip Reports 04.09.2023 ~ 5.17g - 6.68g ~ Panaeolus (Copelandia) cyanescens
    #28281262 - 04/16/23 09:23 PM (9 months, 7 days ago)

April 9, 2023

Subject: Trip Reports 04.09.2023 ~ 5.17g - 6.68g ~ Panaeolus (Copelandia) cyanescens
Species: Panaeolus (Copelandia) cyanescens, foraged in the wild from cow dung
Dosage: 5.17g - 6.68g (two separate trips)
Method: citrus shot ; dried fruits ground to cut-like consistency, some powder ; mixed in with fresh-squeezed juice from cara cara orange. (Earlier trip of larger dose: ground fruits made into a tea mixed with a tea blend of slippery elm bark, licorice root and marshmallow root).
Season/location: early spring, mid-April ; in the subtropics
Preparation: clean and decluttered home, dishes done and kitchen clean, tea materials out and prepared in order, water, windows and front screen door open, happy feline friend, light breeze, overcast, cool, breathing, clear headspace, good neighbor friend energy, neighbor friend support and knowing of the trip, fruit (apples, oranges), beer and tobacco for end of trip.

~ Trip Report ~

I took the medicine around 11:00 AM, stretched lightly to diffuse throughout the body, sensations commenced 15-20 minutes after consumption.

I begin these larger doses in a comfortable reading chair, usually legs crossed, focusing on deep, slow, intentional breathing as the energy begins to pulse throughout my body.

With heavy doses of 5 or more grams, I will experience an internal auditory hum, very high frequencies. These are the mushrooms sounding, I believe. (Sometimes, I can’t wear a hat because the sounds become too intense and get stuck between my head and the hat. Hat removal ceases the humming). These frequencies are roughly 3000 to 3500 Hz, pulsating slightly, felt sensorily as well from head to toe, like my body is being saturated and flooded with the toning.

I try to close my eyes at this stage, but sometimes frightful images of male and female mushroom-headed beings in striped tights will appear, towering over me (this was my last heavy dose of over 6g). This time, I recall not so much images but sinister energies entering my field of perception; on the left, then on the right. Center was more clear and balanced. I would then open my eyes, and the clear beautiful light would be present again and fill my energy field, clearing it. I remind myself that the come-up can be the most uncomfortable part, but the feeling of entering the mushroom world felt familiar and comforting. I was assured.

After about 25 minutes of sitting, allowing the power to saturate my body, once most of the frequencies had dissipated or smoothed over and I began to feel cold (another experiential pattern of these heavier doses, I feel…are we entering space?! Most likely…), I moved up to the bedroom to grab a quilt. But after wrapping it all around my head and body, I folded over on the edge of the bed in a most comfortable, warm and soothing cocoon, rocking myself rhythmically side to side.

It is at this time, 45-60 minutes into the journey, that the mushroom language comes. (And this is why I believe they are aliens). The peaking is the sweet space of pure light and energy. The seeing, the deep knowing, the unleashing and expansiveness of consciousness, mergence into The One. It is the most luminous and beautiful space and presence I have ever experienced.

In my last trip (6.68g), I was given the mushroom language then, too. At that time (about four months ago/December 2022), the only pronounced syllable was “sa”, spoken with a long vowel sound like “saah”, but “sa” is, instinctually, the spelling. This sound would pour forth from my mouth in chanting, followed by and morphed into “us”. I felt complete unity with everything and everyone. I was reminded by a friend later after recounting this pronouncement that “sa” is the root or foundational pitch in all Indian ragas. Perhaps a rooting of consciousness, I thought. However, this explanation did not fully resonate with my interpretation of the experience. During this latest trip of a slightly lower dose, I was given even more syllables, only some of which I can recall: “sa, so, ra, ma, fa, om, ga, ha, ma”, also “home, om, house, home, om” and, whilst sobbing greatly, “thank you, thank you, thank you.” Over, and over, these syllables, with immense gratitude. The sounds sprung forth like I was speaking in tongues. It felt good to my mouth and body to be proclaiming these sounds. It felt so natural. Chanting the sounds, sobbing, being absolutely in the space of dear friends and family cherished and loved, laughing with deep joy, rolling with my full body on the bed in the quilt. Windows and doors of the home fully open, overcast, 77 degrees, breezy. This is the language I later came upon in the recorded chantings of María Sabina. And it is through reading her biography María Sabina: Selections (Poets for the Millennium) that I’ve come to know these sounds as the mushroom language. Her repetitive sounds are “so, si, sa, soi, ha, ki, ko, kai, ma, mai, pa, pai, ai.” She sings.

Sabina was a healer, a poet, a musician, and she would sing these syllables. She sings these chants from a large book that the mushrooms gave her in a vision. My experience was first a birthing of these sounds from deep within me, and the second time a rhythmic, swaying almost sing-song repetitiveness on long exhalations accompanied by a prolific feeling of absolute truth in the words.

I appreciate so deeply having my feline at home with me during journeyings. She lets me know when everything is alright. She was napping and content for the duration of this latest session, comforting me with peaceful knowing of right-ness near the end of the session.

After the clear light, I felt trapped once again in my home/camper. (During the last trip I experienced great terror of entrapment in my home, trying to get outside, getting outside, not knowing how to shut the door, my cat darting outside and my not knowing how to have her inside with the screen door open, throwing her back inside in a frenzy for us both, seeing her panic and misunderstanding of the situation and her own fear (everything was fine, and everything was not fine), increasing repetitions of “sa” and “us, us, US!” syllables and the interconnected feeling, tunneled visions of one-pointedness into other realms, desires to etch understandings and symbols on the walls, peering through the windows in spookiness and asking feebly for help, feeling that I had broken my mind and would be committed to an asylum, leaving the front door unlocked so that my family could find me later and take me to the asylum, needing to pee but not knowing how to get to the toilet and do it, feeling very thirsty but feeling entirely content with my suffering and deep understanding of how it all is and that I was with The One now and that I did not need to drink or eat or sleep, but I knew in my heart that I wasn’t ready for death. Then, I finally peed. It was cathartic. A physical, emotional and psychological release. Then everything started to come together in a “yes, yes, mmhmm, absolutely” understanding of life unfolding. I felt refreshed in my core soul. I wrote in my journal later during that trip, “sa!! way. too much. dios mio. is. yes duh. laughter (with a cyclops smiley face between the ‘h’ and the ‘t’. matches/lighter. gratitude. nature/outside for the heavy doses. pure setting.” On another page, I wrote, “fruit, robots/batteries off. electricity off (?). reasonably. love-serve-remember. visual beauty. pocket dictionary. vacuum less. slower. asana all day. look down more. hydrate. listen to body (I have since this trip learned more how to listen and consume food intune with what the body needs. I have experienced various intoxicating eating patterns in the past and the medicine has brought me to a very beautiful balance in this area). walk. sleep/rest. water. chew your food. energy work. applesauce. no expectations.”). The end of this earlier trip had a rickety quality to it, lots of popping and snapping sounds within the home and neighborly doings outside. I felt rocked to my core, rebirthed, a bit messy, and absolutely sure of my human existence. I always feel the need to change my underwear or just go without at the end of these trips.

It is around this time (hour 3-4) that I tend to try to enter game-reality once more, too quickly. Timothy Leary, Richard Alpert and Ralph Metzner in The Psychedelic Experience define these “games” as “behavioral sequences defined by roles, rules, rituals, goals, strategies, values, language, characteristic space-time locations and characteristic patterns of movement. Any behavior not having these nine features is non-game: this includes physiological reflexes, spontaneous play, and transcendent awareness.” For me, this game re-entering is usually through writing and trying to “make sense” of my experience, again, too soon. I desire to write because I think I’ve finally got it and found a great meaning and I’m afraid I’ll forget it, or it’ll be the one thing that doesn’t get ingrained. I keep a journal to scribble in, which is usually single words like “quiet” and “is”. This last trip I decided fuck it and started writing on the walls and on picture scans of mushroom anatomy that I keep in the bathroom to study while I brush my teeth. During this time I also often fall into neurotic patterns (I think this falls under roles and rituals) of imagining unreal or not-actualized life scenarios in my head and playing them out, feeling their real unrealness. I can almost step back and watch the loop run in my mind, the same pattern cycle over and over, it is so familiar. This is the stage I am working at flowing through, maintaining the clear light for longer or at least being able to stay relaxed and be a witness at this point in the trip.

As of this latest journey, during my lighter but undeniable panic period while sitting on the hard living room floor, tapping a tambourine, taking notes and trying to “accomplish something good/get rid of something not of use” (take an unhelpful mushroom guidebook off the bookshelf), my neighbor and good friend came in through the screen door to check on me (I told him earlier I’d be tripping that day). I was still in my skirt but had shed my top, but it’s alright; he’s my lover, too. His eyes were bigger than I’d ever seen and even more beautiful in my state. I told him of this, he blushed and smiled softly, turned on the small fan for me as it had warmed up somewhat, and gave me the water bottle. I told him that I was okay and that I was “gonna sit here and play this tambourine for a bit.” *tap tap tap*
I later wrote “compadres” on the inside of the bathroom cabinet mirror. Deep trips would be nice with some assistance, but the mushrooms will always protect you, and will always teach you. They are your friends. Other recordings from this day included “us. (always), ma, na, sa so si ta, .human., witness. quiet.”

The proceedings involved pacing between the small living room and kitchen area, dancing/swaying, stomping and chanting with new-found syllables, tapping together tingshas and watching their frequencies emanate, periodically visually immersed in the patched and painted walls, the rawness and ancientness of the tambourine skin.

As intense and somewhat startling as these heavy sessions can be, I will continue this practice every few months. It feels essential to go deep into unordinary realms of consciousness. It is important work and I am grateful to be doing it.

I began my mycological studies deeply in July 2022. It has become my greatest joy. I feel abundantly blessed and am full of great love for our mushroom friends and the teachers and guides they have become in my life. I would be very lost on the journey without them.

Summary: They always take care of you. They always teach you. They always show you. Writing/trying to record too soon…just let the experience happen/watch it/witness it all.

Bibliography:

Rothenberg, Jerome, and Alvaro Estrada. Selections María Sabina. University of California Press, 2003.

Leary, Timothy, et al. “General Introduction, p.5 footnote.” The Psychedelic Experience: A Manual Based on the Tibetan Book of the Dead, Citadel Press, New York, 2007.


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