by J D Arthur
In the months that followed, I continued my solitary pursuit of salvia, without incident. Many of the more interesting sessions, some details of which I’ve related above, occurred during this period.
During this time, many of my experiences began to exhibit details, on a surprisingly consistent basis, that had been hinted at, or perhaps alluded to, in past sessions. After smoking, I was increasingly finding myself in what might be characterized as a “Caribbean” environment. This place has no specific features that might readily identify it. The inhabitants are primarily black, although there seems to be an Indian presence. Often, there is a carnivallike atmosphere with people dancing in parades. The women wear bright-colored dresses with billowing skirts and some sort of headscarves. There is a feeling of a primitive naturalness, but with overtones of a hard life. At the same time, I continued to have the impression that I was somehow being cared for:
I went with them and was very clearly under the care of a younger, husky black woman. She was apparently from some Caribbean country. She seemed to be talking in a relaxed way with another woman. She didn’t pay me any direct attention, but I was definitely in her charge. Almost as if I were a child she was “herding.” It could have also been that she was in charge of leading me somewhere. This was her job. There was no personal contact between us, although I felt that I was clinging to her on some level, even if only figuratively—but there seemed to be more of a physical connection.
During this time, another remarkable experience reinforced the admonition to have someone present to guard my body. This particular incident was unique in that it represented a benchmark in my approach to salvia, since there occurred not only an astonishing quality of personal contact with someone who I felt I had definitely encountered before, but because the presence of this person exuded such a palpable aura of what can only be described as “power.” From my notes:
One bowl 5X:
I was immediately taken. As I was entering, I noted the state of my mind, which had taken the same formless quality as yesterday. I believe it was at this juncture that I began to hear speech. I abandoned myself to the speaking and noticed that it was indeed a foreign tongue. It was not English or Spanish or anything familiar.
Shortly thereafter, there appeared a woman coming from my left moving toward the right. She began saying, “Hope you’ve got one . . . hope you’ve got one!” This meant someone to watch my body and keep me in this life. I was aware that I didn’t “have one” since I was alone. I’m not sure of the language that she spoke. I seemed to hear her in English, but it may have been the dream language being spoken.
I felt that I was fluid and easily manipulated. Within moments, a large black woman—seemingly Jamaican or East Indian—appeared. Evidently, the first woman was her assistant or perhaps part of her retinue. At any rate, the black woman was the master of the show. She more or less moved me on a whim. She was obviously in control and was very powerful. I felt that she was what could only be characterized as a “witch,” though not necessarily evil, just powerful. I realized I’d seen her before, but always in a peripheral context, never realizing she was calling the shots. The experience was intensely real and personal. I felt as if many of my other journeys had been leading me to this. It was as though my encounter with her was some sort of turning point.
She seemed to have the power to take me away at will. Even at this juncture, the events beheld still have a feeling rooted in natural humanness. On some level, this is all a natural unfolding of events. She is just skilled in something we’re totally unaware of, yet subject to.
During her entrance, it seemed as if I were being enveloped by an overwhelming rhythmical presence. I can’t be certain if it was the drumming or the language, or perhaps a combination of both. In any event, the effect was to fascinate the attention and paralyze it. This enabled her to be in control. I felt she could have swept me away in an instant, had that been her wish.
The impressions left by this experience were profound. Encountering someone whom I’d met before was exhilarating in itself, since it revealed an internal consistency to the events I’d been witnessing. There was now a demonstrable unity to the locale and personages I’d encountered. For the first time, I actually felt that I had, in effect, a “contact,” or perhaps a comrade in this alien realm. In addition, the demonstration of her power was remarkable. It seemed as though, through the rhythmical entrapment of the drumming, I felt like a fish on a hook. I was powerless to pull free. At the same time, my instructress was in complete control of my fate. Her power seemed to rest in the fact that she completely understood the mechanics of such enchantment and could utilize it as she wished. There was no pettiness, however; the fascination was in the wake of her “solidity.”
Once again, these impressions, though seemingly bizarre, had an inherent core of naturalness that proved so prevalent in many of these experiences. The mechanism of power and fascination seemed to come from what might be characterized as a tribal knowledge—as if this interplay of forces is an integral part of physical interaction within a genuinely natural environment, from which we are so separate. It’s as if this were an application of “higher physics” that could only be ascertained or perceived by a naturally functioning organism, whose perceptions were heightened to their natural state of animal sensitivity.
On another occasion, I was given what might be considered a very blunt indication that my mode of solitary investigation was misguided and should be amended. After smoking, I had my now familiar experience of relinquishing language. Words and phrases like “sitting in the shop” or “just smoked salvia” began to rapidly lose any meaning and were forcefully swept away by the wave of foreign images and feelings. The appearance of my guides, this time, was accompanied by a decided feeling of admonition. I found myself in the dark, looking toward the lights of a house. At the same time I was being told, in some manner, that this was a familial or tribal pursuit and that one does not follow it in a solitary fashion. It was implied that it was somehow for the benefit of a group that this contact was intended. Although there was a tone of rebuke to the experience, there was also a genuine feeling of instruction on an emotional level.
These admonitions were, I must admit, unwelcome, since it seemed that this type of exploration was an inherently solitary pursuit. If one must face suffering and death alone, it would seem that one would also encounter knowledge alone. To be connected, in a genuine way, to a tribal group would be a condition devoutly to be wished, in our cerebral, fragmented culture. It would tend to represent a culmination, rather than a starting point. Nevertheless, these admonitions of tribal representation continued in subsequent endeavors with salvia.
In another trial, about a month later, I was again encouraged to have a sitter present, but more for my own protection and instruction, rather than from any sense of duty to a communal or familial group.
From my notes:
After entering the state, I was taken in one of the most forceful manners yet. The force of transition was not unlike a magnetic or gravitational attraction that was all but irresistible. My initial perception was of some sort of surrounding rhythmical process, not unlike drumming or rattling. It was also akin to some sort of organic process such as the beating of the heart, only more rapid. This mesmerizing rhythmical pattern surrounded me and seemed to totally fascinate my attention. At the same time, the pulsing of the sound opened an awareness of a physical body in that realm. This sensation has happened before, wherein the normal physical body loses awareness and a new body, over there, gains awareness. This is not a very comfortable situation—in fact, it’s quite frightening. The dream body doesn’t seem to have any contact with anything solid, but one feels as though one is treading water in a black ocean. The only link with the “old” body seems to be in the breath.
This sensation, although frightening, was bearable, it seems, due to the degree of awareness that one enjoys in this state. One feels totally awake during this process and, on some level, main
tains some feeling of will or intention. While this physical process of “sensing the dream body” was unfolding, there was also the appearance of my hosts in this realm.
The remarkable feature of this particular encounter was the direct conversational nature of the event. I use the word conversational in a limited way, since I said nothing but was being instructed by a younger black woman, who spoke to me in a very nonthreatening, personal manner about my situation.
She told me, in effect, that I should not leave my physical body alone like that, implying that it was somehow dangerous. She also told me, in a very direct way, that if I chose, I would be taken in the dream body with them and instructed. She was not alone, but I have no recollection of her companions. There appeared to be perhaps two other people. It seemed a prerequisite to be in this dream body in order to learn.
This learning, it seems, consisted of “absorbing gifts” in the sense of physical units of knowledge. This knowledge was in the realm of awareness of one’s perception of one’s self and the world that one perceived. The awareness of the dream body would be one such unit of knowledge.
My instructress, again, seemed to be connected with some sort of organic tribal tradition. At one point, I had the distinct impression that she was African. Whether she told me this or not is unclear, although I have a lingering remembrance that she did.
This Afro-Caribbean context, although incomprehensible and very confusing in my ordinary world, has become quite familiar and almost reassuring in my salviaic encounters.
One salient feature of this particular excursion was the force of the attraction to join my hosts. It was only the admonition about leaving my body alone in that state that gave me pause to join them.
The idea that this type of endeavor has some function in a tribal grouping was reinforced in subsequent trials and began to serve almost as a subtext to many experiences.
On one such occasion, I was given to understand that I was in the care of, or associated with, a person (male) whose task was to somehow bring me to death. This was not a frightening event in any sense but, on the contrary, was magnificently joyous. There was an emotion akin to an exuberant excitement, coupled with what can only be described as a regal magnificence. There was an accompanying aesthetic rapture not dissimilar to being swept away by exquisite music. This taste of death was short lived but dramatic in its revelation of this strange union of death and joy.
After smoking a second time, shortly afterward, I found myself in the presence of “welcomers,” an elderly man and his wife. There was a lighthearted tone to this meeting, the man joking with his wife that there was no need to get “dressed up,” or something to that effect, since “he’s not dead” meaning that I was a false alarm. I also found this very funny; the humorous tone lasted even after I returned to normalcy.
The gist of my instruction here, although not framed by any specific events, was a very obvious realization that, as humans, we need connections with the dead. Evidently, this is ideally accomplished by one member of each group, be it familial, tribal, or some other connection. It was implied that every small group of people should have one among them to remind them of the reality of death and to connect them to each other through this understanding. It seemed as though this is the natural order—to have a human connection with the other world.
The next day, I decided to smoke again. I immediately found myself emerging through the floor, it seemed, into a room with four or five men. They appeared to be Mexican or perhaps South American and were all wearing blue shirts that seemed to be part of a uniform. They were apparently workers, perhaps in a factory or plant of some sort. They gave the impression of being rugged or gruff somehow and seemed to have had hard lives.
As I arrived, they were laughing and kidding one another. Again, I was seen as some type of burden. They were joking about who was going to “take” me. One of them said: “Why don’t you go with the Mexican,” who was evidently a member of their group and perhaps the butt of jokes, and they all laughed. One person stepped forward, evidently the Mexican. I saw his face generally, but began to return before I could note any specific details of his appearance. This particular excursion didn’t seem to yield anything dramatic. I was actually a bit surprised by the almost arbitrary nature of the encounter.
A few days later I decided to smoke again. This time the encounter was decidedly more involved. After rushing upward, I found myself among a crowd of people at some sort of ceremony, where certain ones were being chosen in the midst of some type of ecstatic regal atmosphere. I was given to understand, repeatedly, at the beginning of my encounter and later toward the end, that those like me, visitors to this realm of the dead, were representatives of a group of people not unlike a tribe or clan. It seemed as though at one point I was asked, in effect, what group I was representing, and I indicated that I was by myself and represented no group. This was not received favorably by my interrogators, and I was, in effect, brushed aside. The regal ceremony continued.
I was looking up to my left and there was a sort of platform, almost resembling a stage, seemingly covered with a white cloth. The whole plateau was bathed in bright yellow light. A woman, possibly black, was the mistress of ceremonies. She seemed to evince a very eminent and powerful demeanor. She was evidently choosing from among the crowd, which included both the newly dead and the representatives, including myself, for some type of honor, or the bestowal of some type of gift. At one point, she looked down and asked something to the effect of, “Are you the ones who died bravely” or “I’m looking for the ones . . .” I backed away indicating I wasn’t among the ones she sought. As I did, I noticed a group of what appeared to be Mexicans, not dissimilar to the group of four or five men I’d encountered a few days before. I had the impression that these were indeed the ones she’d been looking for. They were evidently about to be taken up onto the platform and somehow rewarded—seemingly by being transported deeper into the ecstatic yellow light. I mean to make no representation that the group of Mexicans that were chosen was the same group I’d encountered in my previous session. At the same time, the coincidence of encountering a group of four or five Mexican men on two successive trials was interesting.
At that point, I began to almost tumble downward; at the same time, it became apparent that I was not alone, but others, apparently those who were also not chosen, accompanied me in what might be characterized as a symbolic fall from grace. This had the feeling of something akin to a game or ritual that is repeated in some sort of ceremonial fashion. Those who accompanied me were singing a song that was a repetitive sequence of perhaps five or six notes that I was given to understand was part of this ceremony. It almost felt reminiscent of a South Seas island chant accompanying a ritual that was an integral part of a tribal culture.
It seemed as though it was at this time that the assertion was repeated that those in my position represent a group and, in effect, go to death (or, more specifically, to the land of the dead) for their group to seek some type of communal benefit.
The song lasted long enough and was clear enough that I was able to isolate it to some extent and analyze it, noting its simplicity, repetitive nature, and other characteristics. It was not what one would term beautiful by any means, but more of a ceremonial chant that was used to somehow complete the ritual. It seemed, however, an interesting development to have the opportunity of hearing and analyzing a definite melody from such an exceptional source.
Again, although this particular session was extraordinarily vivid and concise, and clearly articulated specific concepts and premises, to speculate about any additional meaning or context would be pointless and presumptive. Salvia has the unique ability to present scenes and images in their own context, which is as succinct and complete as it is unfathomable.
5
SUBSIDIARY OCCURRENCES
One of the fascinating aspects of salvia is that it can open the door to a variety of allied states of awareness. One such state that I found particularly intrigui
ng was what I came to refer to in my notes as the “shrinking of the self.” This state made its presence known under a variety of circumstances. It usually occurred in the afterglow state, following the normal deep trance. It has also occurred on a few occasions after smoking a less potent variety of crushed leaves.
The fact that I found particularly remarkable was that this state of shrinking of the self was not specific to the ingestion of salvia but is actually a normally occurring modification of human awareness. I had experienced this state numerous times, most often in childhood, usually after partially awakening from a deep sleep or at the point that just preceded sleep. This state was characterized by an altered sense of body image. The sense of scale was disturbed. I would feel “big” and “small” at the same time.
Simultaneously, the habitual reference points of up/ down or right/left, for example, would be eclipsed by an overwhelming perception of “inner” and “outer.” This would always be a novel event and was intriguing on many levels, since it entailed both somatic and psychological components. Unfortunately, its proximity to sleep would be its undoing, and any awareness I enjoyed would slowly slip away. I never thought much about this strange fleeting feeling, presuming it was simply an odd type of dream. With salvia, however, this state was to make its appearance once again in a relaxed and decidedly more conscious environment.
On one occasion, after smoking a bowl of weak, locally grown salvia as an experiment, I was initially disappointed in the fact that the normal intensity of the trance had not been achieved. After a few moments, however, I began to experience, quite unexpectedly, that same disorientation of body image that I’d experienced as a child. This time, however, the intensity of the experience was profoundly magnified; moreover, my awareness now was totally intact and concentrated to finally observe all the nuances of this heightened state.