A Long
Weekend
By Jo P and Sally D
I ready my smoking equipment on the computer table, and draw in a modest dose: the smoke from a small Salvia leaf. It sears my lungs, yet feels like something holy sanctifying my body. An angelic feeling. In an instant, the computer, the table, and I melt and fuse with the underside of a sprawling “non-consensual” carpet.
After a minute or two, the vision breaks. At
Had too much to eat and drink at a German restaurant, but survived the return trip. Back home, still a little tipsy, judgment somewhat impaired, otherwise wouldn’t even consider a Salvia session for now. Inebriated curiosity wins over respect: what will Salvia and a liter of Spaten lager feel like?
Nonchalant, I fire up about ¼ gram of homemade 5x leaf. Tonight’s music: “Structures from Silence”, Steve Roach’s astral ambient masterpiece, which I hope will make the ride less rocky.
Although perfectly conscious of it, I hardly feel the Salvia shred my bodily geometry into a thousand dimensional ribbons.
I crash-land into an isolated corner of Salvia Space. There’s only one entity on this spot: a massive antiquated jeep. Somehow, I know that I’ve fused with some part of the jeep chassis, but I can’t figure out which. The chassis undulates like a liquid, and as soon as I decide that I’ve become this part, the part moves away, so I change my mind. Sally plays the weird game of “hide and seek” on me for a while.
At last, I realize that the coffee table that was in front of me now forms the windshield of the jeep. I’ve become the hood and passenger-side door. My strange new existence doesn’t surprise or bother me a bit—an unpleasant effect of the alcohol, as I happen to cherish the “awe” from such an experience.
When the Salvia wears off after a few minutes, I’m sweating profusely (my first time on an SD trip) and feeling totally wasted. I lie in a disgraceful stupor for the next hour. If anything, the trip seems to have been purely recreational, and devoid of any “lessons”. Or perhaps there’s one big lesson: don’t drink, and drive the Sage mobile.
7 September 2003
Sunday dinner and wine ritual over; I’m ready for bed.
Lately, my wife’s been suffering from depression: lassitude, feelings of worthlessness, doubts as to the value of simply being a housewife and mother (which she is). Teasingly, I ask her if she’d like a bit of “Maria Pastora” to wind down. To my complete surprise, she says yes. She’s always been tolerant of my Salvia use, but considers it a drug that someone forgot to make illegal. She’s had too much to drink already.
Anyway, I can’t pass up this opportunity to expand her mind. She’s never tried a psychedelic before, and can’t smoke Salvia right. I take the first toke, inhaling only to fill the large water pipe’s chamber with smoke. I tell her to draw it all in and hold it down for thirty seconds. She almost coughs it out too soon, but I put my fingers against her lips.
I tell her to take a second toke. She says no. Well then, close your eyes, I suggest. (If she didn’t get enough salvinorin, then at least darkness would intensify any effects.) She looks at me, puzzled—then suddenly, she’s gone….
Meanwhile, hoping for a good trip, I’ve slipped some soft tranquil music in the background. For more than an hour, she stays in this position: seated on the sofa, eyes closed, head resting on one hand, and the other hand across her chest. I begin to worry that she might have slid into a coma.
By the time she’s back, I’ve tidied up. We were expecting a fifteen-minute session at the most, but as I learned last night, “Salvia-hol” isn’t Salvia. She’s feeling totally hammered. Never mind. She’s had her encounter with the Green Goddess.
In her vision, she finds herself in total darkness. As she walks, a brilliant white light emanates from her being, illuminating the way and revealing a beautiful infinite expanse of grassland.
In her words: “First, I don’t want to close my eyes, but something irresistible just grabs me. It brings me to this real dark place, but somehow, I’m not afraid, I know that only good things can happen there. In fact, an intense brightness starts to radiate from my core. As I walk, the darkness falls back, and endless fields of grass greet me, reflecting my own inner light. By releasing this energy, I realize there’s so much goodness I can share with the world.”
“Now I know what you meant by sacred vision,” she sighs, as I kiss her good night.
The next day, I have a strong afterglow by just meditating on her experience.