Since last we spoke, I have had one helluva time in the wake of a powerful psychedelic experience. I've had my fair share of challenging journeys; ones that turned me upside down and inside out, all of which gave me tremendous insight and caused dramatic shifts. This experience, however, was just plain hard. Discomfort doesn't begin to describe the physical and existential thrashing I experienced. "Pulverized" is a word that comes through, but even that doesn't seem exactly accurate. My guide tells me that there were long periods of time during which my body was calm and peaceful, none of which I recall. This journey was over three weeks ago, and I can still feel the reverberations in my body, sometimes on a cellular level. In the meantime, I have also gotten sick; sicker than I have ever been, for over two weeks. It's been humbling, to say the least.
I do feel like I was energetically flayed open, and that perhaps while I was out in the cosmos, I purged some of the anger and grief I have been unable to move through; that which no longer serves me. It's been quieter, and farther away. Perhaps the perspective has made it more palatable. I fully believe that psychedelic experiences continue to unfold for weeks, months, and years after actual ingestion of a medicine. I have no doubt that this experience served as a kind of portal, and that there will be more insight in my future. I am more aware than ever before of other portals that exist for us, outside of psychedelic medicine: dance, music, meditation, sex / orgasm, emotional release, dreams, and other spaces where we can find ourselves less defended.
For now, as I continue to reinhabit my body, I am feeling the distinct precision of honing my boundaries. I am especially attuned to regaining the security and stability of my own nervous system, which have been absent for quite some time. I am paying extra attention to how those around me help care for my boundaries, and am acutely aware of how safety is so badly damaged and eroded when boundaries are not honored. A question that I am often asking myself, "Is my No invited and welcome here?" If my No is met with punishment and disconnection, my Yes means nothing. My job now is to not self-abandon when I am fearful of disconnection, and to instead remain grounded and in alignment, strengthening my own secure attachment to self. Those who support that will stay and celebrate with me.
This work feels especially powerful and empowering, and calls to mind something a client recently ended our last integration session with, as we were discussing all the things that awaited her out in the world. She calmly, beautifully, and simply stated:
"Let's Fucking Go"
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