#53 On bringing back souvenirs from the other side
Several nights ago, I spoke with a nice man in the same pub I frequent. He was showing me photos of his newly bought Harley-Davidson motorcycle; he beamed with pride as if he just had his first child. Actually, this bike was his first. He dreamed of having a motorcycle—not just any, it had to be a Harley—for decades, and at 55 years of age, finally, he was able to give himself a great present.
The reason I bring this up is because as he was telling me his story, it reminded me of myself, how I sometimes speak of the contents of my psychedelic experiences, whether it’s a new or strange thought or I saw something fantastical beyond words. And that’s the trouble with trying to explain something to someone that is ineffable: it is difficult because it is so otherworldly, especially when your interlocuter had never taken that substance or any substance before. Motorcycle man, however, was able to show me photos. He could explain all the parts, how fast it went in horsepower (which by the way I think is odd that we humans speak about how fast something goes in the amount of horses it takes to pull said object [1]), how he was going to customize the paint job and general aesthetics, how this bike could be (I thought) an exterior representation of what is going on within him or communicates something about his personality. I was charmed by his enthusiasm for this motorcycle and I don’t even like to ride motorcycles, or, I should specify: two-wheeled objects with an attached motor.
Yet I can’t do the same when I speak of my experiences of drug-induced hyper-alterity. It’s not fair; why can’t I bring back souvenirs from my trips, why can’t I have a memento of that experience and, for example, the other beings I conversed with from that experience? Why must psychedelic experiences be like dreams in the sense that they are nonphysical experiences, and why can’t I capture anything from these kinds of experiences?
The only thing one can bring back from dream and drug realms are ideas, that is, whatever was going on inside of your head during those experiences, and if you want to have a souvenir, so to speak, of your experience, you can bring back a blueprint of that which you experienced and manifest it here in our shared material reality. I’ve heard of many scientists and inventors who took mind-altering substances and claim these experiences impacted their thinking or is the root of making a big discovery. So, it seems like the only things we can bring back are ideas and if we are so inclined, we can literally manifest them here.
With that said, I believe to have found a way of using a common piece of technology to bring back souvenirs of phenomena from the other side. Yes, this sounds crazy, I know, but, after some more testing, I hope to show it to you one day. But why should you believe me? I probably wouldn’t believe someone saying what I just said; I’d be curious and interested but I would need to see or experience such a claim. It’s all conjecture unless or until I disclose what it is and the technique I use. If you claimed to be able to do something extraordinary, I would need proof to carry on the conversation with you, otherwise, what’s the point of talking about something you cannot talk about. The reason I’m talking about it, is, first, my encounter with motorcycle man inspired this stream of conscious thinking, and second, I’m simply dropping seeds or clues or heads-ups prior to my disclosure. I intend to reveal what I discovered in the near future and then I promise we can discuss in detail what I discovered and how others can replicate my findings. I look forward to the critical discussion.
Another thing motorcycle man made me think of is when toddlers find an object, any object, and bring it to an adult. They are amazed by what they find. Their wide-open eyes accompany words such as “look, look!” or “see!” or “here!”, and adults mirror the toddlers’ befuddled expressions to encourage more exploration of the world into which they were born and share with the adults. Even though we don’t remember, we’ve all been that toddler, that spiritual-being-having-a-human-experience in training. If I just came from a nonphysical realm, picked up a Rubik’s Cube or pretty much any plastic thing lying around, I would be equally perplexed and expect an explanation at which point give up because I don’t understand the strange guttural sounds spewing from the forward-facing holes in the bigger people’s heads.
The point I’m making is that motorcycle man showed me his new toy with the same amazement as a toddler has when they find cool stuff and want others to revel in its uniqueness. We can revel in (psychedelically inspired) ideas as well, however, more so when we actualize them into looks-like, feels-like things.
[1] I can’t let go of this thought, I must think about this more… Cheetahs are faster than horses, so why not measure speed in cheetah-power instead of horsepower? I suppose the reason we speak in terms of horsepower for the vehicles we drive is because prior to the car we rode horses. We could relate to how fast we moved through space while atop a horse or being pulled in a carriage by 2, 4, 8 horses or more. We know what that feels like. Therefore, equating the speed of human-made objects in how many horses it would take to propel it through space is easier than say in animals that humans don’t normally ride. This is my own theory, maybe someone somewhere wrote about this is more technical detail, but it makes sense to me. See also Encyclopædia Britannica’s article on horsepower.