The Blog of the Less High

Preface:

Mushrooms and other psychedelics are interesting things to me. It’s something that I want to explore but I want to do it once I’m in the right headspace. This past year has been a rough road mentally and it all started with the bad experience with the chocolate edible a month or so before the Yosemite trip. I have been feeling a lot better as of late so I didn’t want to fuck anything up by doing something that’s a little bit out of my comfort zone. I know that taking risks can be a good thing but, for me, right now is not the time.

As an experienced “baby sitter,” I feel very comfortable having the higher ones lead the less high so my motto is usually to hand off responsibility. I don’t care where we go, I’m not going to keep track of where I am, I am going to try and give less of a shit than I have ever given before. That’s why I’m so bad with directions because when I’m in the passenger seat of a car, the last thing I’m worried about is remembering how to get to where I’m going.

The High:

It was a little bit tough finding the right place to do the deed. To me, it has to be comfortable and safe. We had found safe but comfort was tough. With Rich’s help, we finally found a spot and began to smoke. The thing about “grass filled tubes,” as I like to call them, they get me very high, very quickly and that can sometimes be tough for me to handle. Getting very high can set off a tangent of panic that is quite overwhelming (kind of like the cholocalate edible) so to offset this problem, I have to focus on other things. I have to move, I have to talk, and I have to laugh. I have no idea what Rich and I started talking about but I soon found myself needing to move. I also saw you guys laughing a bit and needed to know what was up. Depth became an issue very quickly. I don’t know if it was the glasses or the grasses but I was a bit long on every step that I took. I would think the next step was one foot downhill when it would turn out to be only six inches away. I saw a branch out of the corner of my eye that was perfect for me to hold on to. I reach and…I miss (picture cat swatting at a fly).

With definite certainty I could say that the grass was the problem.

Things were good for a couple of minutes.

Then the negative thoughts came up. What if I am high forever? Will I come down? Why can’t I remember things? Will I be able to remember them later? What if I forget who I am? 

These thoughts lurked around for a couple of minutes before I told myself that it’s ok. I’ve been through this before. I know my mind’s stupid tricks and I’m going to get over this. By the time we made it back on the path, I was also back on track.

Quick aside: My therapist has questioned me on why I like to get high since I get panicky and I told him that it’s an interesting dynamic. If I think too much about my high and how I’m forgetting things, then I freak myself out. But when I just let all of that go, I’m finally in tune with the moment (although probably a couple of seconds behind). I forget about my job, I forget about all of the responsibilities, I forget about all that has been stressing me out and I’m finally just there. And that’s why I like it. Things are funny, things are beautiful, I have great friends and I’m finally able to enjoy it without any outside pressures distorting the moment.

The whole honey situation was a bit of a buzzkill for me because it reminded me of all these other responsibilities that I didn’t want to be a part of. I was drawing, I was laughing, I was enjoying my time. SUDDENLY I was tasked with a job that I didn’t want to be a part of. It was sticky, it was gross, it was time consuming, and I had to follow a certain procedure. I hated it.

We finally cleaned up and it was time to head down to the lake. The lake was amazing! After a stressful time cleaning up the honey, it was time to relax by the lake.

Sit and stare.

I looked at the light, I looked at the trees, I looked at those around me and everything felt right.

I usually don’t take pictures because I never feel it’s good enough. The moment that I try to capture has passed me by. Just like with drawing, just like with playing music, just like with saying “I love you.” I want it to be perfect and it never is. I get down on myself because I think that other people have a much easier time finding those moments but for me they are really tough. That’s something that I need to work on. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it never will be but this is my best shot and this is me.

I think that’s why I’m good with math, because there is an answer. There is only one right answer. I get a lot of “a-ha!” moments that are hard for me to get when I’m doing something more artistic and I think that’s what frustrates me. Fucking tell me what’s right and I’ll do it, but tell me there are 1 millions right answers but only one that’s right for me and I’m lost.

I have now begun the rest of this blog high. That’s why the pictures. Those were both aha moments that I rarely get.

Editing this feels so right. Kind of like the perfect smore that I made for myself that night camping. Listening to Animal Collective in the room that I just cleaned up I feel calm. That’s how I feel when I go camping. Calmness, rightness. A pause in a life that sometimes feels like I’m fastwording and can only see the spaces.

Overall, just a great experience. I’m high and don’t remember where I was going.

The End: