The beautiful ordinary

One of the coolest parts about studying neuroscience is the opportunity to examine how certain chemicals affect our neurochemistry and ultimately modulate our perception, mood, consciousness, and behavior. In fact, it was an interest in drugs and the mind that sparked my desire to study neuroscience in the first place. I am unsure of how this curiosity initially took root, but it sure as hell led me to some strange places. My experimentation with psychoactive drugs in particular has led me on some of the most beautiful and most terrifying journeys of my entire life.

A few years ago, a friend and I ingested an eighth of psychedelic mushrooms before visiting a local museum. It was around Christmas time, and the city was dressed in shimmering, white light. Everything seemed primed for a perfect night. However, after perusing the exhibits for only a short time, my friend began to complain of nausea. At first, there was no cause for concern, as mushrooms commonly elicit such sensations. We attempted to locate a bathroom where he could have relived himself. To my surprise, he started slurring his words and wobbling more intensely with each step. I tried my best to support him, but, to no avail. Suddenly, as if things couldn’t get worse, he collapsed to the floor amidst a crowded exhibit.

So, there I was. Tripping on mushrooms surrounded by a bunch of random people. My only friend lay flaccid on the ground; his mind submerged in some psychedelic sink hole. It felt like an eternity, but in retrospect, the whole ordeal likely lasted no longer than sixty seconds.

I called out into the void, “Help!”

All eyes turned to me, and immediately a cohort of friendly strangers rushed to my aid. My friend was alive at least. He squirmed about like a mentally disturbed Tickle Me Elmo, muttering in some language beyond the comprehension of mere Earthlings. Eventually, the police and the paramedics arrived. Speaking with them went surprisingly well. I think the shock of it all forced me back into objective reality for a fleeting moment.

I remember staring at my friend as he was loaded into the back of an ambulance. Our eyes locked. He seemed fine, which comforted me, but now I stood silently in the street. It was cold and dark. I still wasn’t sober.

I walked home with thoughts racing through my head. I had never felt more alone, but not exactly in a bad way. I had just completed my first semester of university at the time. My last final had literally been that same morning. This endeavor felt like an analogy of sorts; an analogy for my entering into the world on my own as an independent adult. Childhood was over. I was responsible for myself.

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How can the same drug in the same environment bring about radically different reactions? It’s hard to say. Different genetics, different brain structure, different past experiences: they all intertwine to construct a foundation upon which the psychedelic experience takes place. “Set and setting” as they like to say. For better or worse, I have a long relationship with hallucinogens that began sometime in late high school and extends until this very day. Although each trip possesses its own unique thrills and chills, I cannot help but notice the common threads connecting them all.

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Psychedelic states can imbue even the most ordinary objects with seemingly divine glory. I could stare at a cup of water for hours, watching light dance gracefully across the glass and the liquid. I wonder if these drugs cause me to hallucinate beauty that never existed or if they allow me to finally perceive the full beauty that has existed all along. Being a hopeless romantic at heart, I hope it is the latter.

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I am always forced to confront my demons at least once. In my experience, LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide) tends to force deeper, grittier introspection upon me than mushrooms ever have. But then again, I’ve taken LSD much more, so maybe sampling bias has skewed my impressions. Basically, every anxiety that I prefer to ignore during normal, waking hours is paraded in front of me like some sort of deranged, graduation slideshow. My frets about intimacy. My concerns about lifestyle choices. My desire to become a more fulfilled person. Sometimes this part of the trip scares me to death. This seems to be especially so when I’ve been consciously ignoring something I ought to do in my life. Other times, I am calmer and more accepting of this self-critique.

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Good vibes. Bad vibes. These terms come up in everyday conversation yet their precise definition eludes me. When vibes are good, I suppose this implies that every person in a shared situation is synced on some subconscious plane of communication. Everyone is subtly communicating similar moods, intentions, and feelings through facial expressions, body language, and perhaps even through pheromones or electromagnetic fields. Bad vibes on the other hand, could emerge when a person unconsciously detects emotional discrepancies within the group. Some people’s intentions might be off or their moods might significantly deviate from the average group mood. Whatever these “vibes” might be, the psychedelic state seemingly allows me to perceive them much more fully and accurately. I feel as though I can judge a person’s mood and intention effortlessly while observing them interact with myself and the world around them. Are “vibes” real? Are my supposed insights into the inner world of other living beings real? It is hard to say definitively, but they sure as hell feel real.

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Much more recently, I embarked on a moderate hike with my brother and some childhood friends of ours. Although our measurement process was by no means rigorous, I expect that we all consumed approximately an eighth of psychedelic mushrooms. This time around, we soaked our mushrooms in lemon juice for 30 minutes prior to ingestion. Known as “lemon-tekking”, this process is supposed to potentiate your trip by increasing the amount of psychoactive compound (psilocin in the case of mushrooms) available for your body to absorb out of the digestive tract. While no peer-reviewed studies likely exist on this method, the ample amount of anecdotal evidence motivated our cadre of psychonauts to give it a try.

We all ended up having a fantastic time. Among other things, we discussed how beautifully meaningless our lives are in the grand scheme of the universe, how money operates like any other form of potential energy, and how societies enforce certain behavioral and linguistic standards that can be both beneficial and harmful. I also personally took time to simply wander off by myself. Staring at trees and birds. Wondering who the hell I am, what the hell I am, and where the hell I am. Do I have free will? Does it even matter? Why do I perpetually want more time, yet kill it whenever I have it? What even is time anyways? Everything is a system. Energy in. Entropy out. I have no fucking clue what’s going on!

I thought a lot about my calling to be a doctor. I want to hear everyone’s story and I want to help them figure out their own callings. I want to listen. I want to try my best to offer guidance. I want to heal. My life is undoubtedly meaningless to the universe at large, but it is meaningful to me and all those who interact with me.

Overall, psychedelics have positively influenced my worldview, even though a few terrible events have occurred while on them. I think for the mostly healthy, mature individual, these drugs can offer so much. However, they are powerful and must be respected. Before embarking on your first psychedelic journey, perform a self-check-up. Are your emotions well-regulated? Are you bottling up a serious anxiety that could rear its ugly head? Surround yourself with good people that you fully trust. Choose a location that is safe, quiet, and private. Make sure you have no obligations for the day, and perhaps even the next day as well. I’m no psychedelic expert, but I have a ton of personal experience. My advice and comments are by no means the end all and be all. Take everything I say with a grain of salt. Everyone is different and will react differently, despite our absurdly high levels of genetic similarity.

Psychedelics bridge multiple layers of emergent complexity. The chemical. The biological. The psychological. The cultural. How is this possible? Are these compounds and their effects a totally random byproduct of evolution, or is there a more “spiritual” element at play here? What is the evolutionary advantage of possessing brain circuits that facilitate transcendent, mystical experiences? Is it just a cruel joke that tricks us into believing our lives have meaning to promote sexual success? Or is there something more profound going on? I don’t have any answers, but it sure is a lot of fun to think about.

“When you get the message, put down the phone” – Alan Watts on psychedelics

An interesting take on psychedelic use from the perspective of Carl Jung:

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