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My first Bufo experience

Started by v3e, August 14, 2018, 09:24:11 PM

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Sonoran desert toad – the next level.

Sometimes, you know something is just meant to happen. It just falls into your lap without a great deal of effort on your part. I've been exploring psychedelics seriously for a couple of years now, but 2017 has definitely been my DMT year. It was the first time I smoked changa and the first time I smoked crystal DMT. I also drank ayahuasca again after first experiencing it in 2015 in Peru. I'd also bought a few books about DMT, a couple by the McKenna brothers and also Graham St. John's epic study, Mystery School in Hyperspace. Amazon being the wonderful selling tool that it is, it also regularly sent me emails suggesting a lot of other books I might be interested in. One of these was called The God Molecule, by Dr Gerardo Ruben Sandoval Isaac. I read the excerpt and put it in my shopping cart to buy later. Then I put 5-MeO-DMT on my bucket list, thinking that I would have to plan an overseas trip to get it crossed off. About six hours later, I received an email from an intrepid Australian shaman of my acquaintance, who had recently travelled to Mexico to meet up with his friend who we will call The Doctor. It turned out that The Doctor was on his way to Australia. I got in touch and found out that there were a couple of spots still available in The Doctor's schedule. By the time I organised everything, I managed to get the last available spot. Within a couple of days of deciding that this was something that I should do, it was going to happen.

The setting for the experience was a fairly remote property about half an hour outside Canberra. After the two hour and forty minutes' drive from Sydney, I found the farm without any trouble, thanks to the excellent directions provided by the host of the event. There were about half a dozen others there gathered around a fire, one of whom had just experienced the medicine. It was his first experience with psychedelics of any kind. I could see that he was still doing a fair bit of processing, so I didn't ask him too many questions. But the look on his face and the tone of awe in his voice said plenty ...

Around ten minutes after I arrived, another guy joined the group. He had just experienced his medicine and was having trouble finding words to describe it. He had a similar awestruck expression to the guy I'd just met. Then, not long after this, another lady appeared. She had gone before the guy who had just rejoined the group. She was similarly lost for words, but again, there was that look of awe on her face. A few minutes later The Doctor turned and spoke to me. It was time.

It was all done out in the open, which I have personally found is definitely the best setting for experiencing DMT in any form. The Doctor had set up a sort of pen in a paddock. There were some star posts in the ground, with some plyboard walls attached to them, surrounding a mattress with some blankets and pillows. It was really comfortable and perfect for what I was about to do. The Doctor explained how to take the medicine (it was smoked in a glass pipe while I was sitting up on the mattress), that I had to expel all the air from my lungs and then count to ten while toking on the pipe, which he would hold for me while he applied the flame. I then had to cover my mouth and nose to prevent too much of the smoke from escaping. The smoke was surprisingly mild.

The effects didn't take long to be felt. The first sensation was of everything closing in around me, followed by total dissolution. I don't remember lying back down on the mattress. A flower of life appeared in front of me, starting from nothing and quickly expanding and rushing toward me at incredible speed, reaching a seemingly infinite size. It appeared to be made of gleaming multicoloured crystal, but it was alive and sentient. I was then drawn into a place that I find difficult to describe. I still seemed to be moving at incredible speed, but somehow, I was not moving at all. I had no physical form – I existed only as consciousness. It seemed that I was both nothing and everything. There was a sense of being in the place where your spirit, or essential energy, or life force, chi, or whatever you want to call it, exists in between incarnations. I would later give the place a name – "the place between lives". I received a message that yes, reincarnation is real. Your existence never ends. Life and death are all just a part of "this" – the place where "I" was just "then". The infinite. I had entered the infinifte.  There was an indescribably complex fractal arrangement that seemed to be emanating from me, and I was at the centre of it.  It expanded from me in every direction simultaneously. This infinite expansion was one of the things about this experience that really stuck with me. There was no "up" or "down" or any type of direction at all. I was all and nothing, at once. I had no sense of being in a physical body, or even having a physical body. Time didn't exist, and I didn't exist, but somehow, I must have existed, because I was having this experience. I have no idea how long I was in this place, but time was irrelevant anyway. More memories of my experience were to come back to me over the next few days. We'll get to that later.

At some point, I re-entered my body. I stood up, and looking around, I had no idea where I was or how I'd gotten there. There was a slight sense of panic (well, actually more than slight if I'm to be completely honest). A rush of thoughts hit me all at once, and they went something like this: "Well, you've done it this time. You've taken something, lost your memory and ended up god knows where. Good job. This is what you get for experimenting!" I remember saying out loud "Where am I?", and then, it slowly started coming back to me. I was safe, and people were looking after me. Still, even with my eyes open, and being on my feet, everything was still very, very fractal, constantly mutating and re-forming. I staggered around a bit, saw the pen with the mattress that was about twenty metres away from me (I don't remember leaving it, not really), and this seemed to ground me a bit. I was going to be OK. I could hear people talking and started walking toward the voices. That's when I saw The Doctor waving to me. I was back.

I started the short walk back to the group, and noticed something on the ground that grabbed my attention. I thought it was a fossil of some description. I picked it up and started to examine it. It didn't take long to realise that it wasn't a fossil at all. It was a piece of desiccated wombat shit. It was made up of intricately interwoven plant matter. It had really stopped being merely a piece of shit, and was just reduced to the plant matter that had sustained this particular wombat. It had more the consistency and appearance of a dried sea-sponge. It was fascinating (to me, anyway). I respectfully placed my piece of poo back where I found it and kept walking back to the group. The next thing to grab my attention on the ground was a scrubby weed. It had tiny, tough triangular leaves that were edged with black. The more closely I looked at it, the more intricate it became. I remember thinking how miraculous it was. My gaze wandered up and down the leaf stem – the more I studied it, the more it seemed to show me. I could see it's energy. I walked the remaining distance back to the group and the fire, but not without stopping first to give The Doctor an enormous hug. He was on his way back up to the pen to deliver the medicine to the last recipient of the day, a lady. As I got back to the group, one of the girls in front of the fire told me that my face looked completely different, that it looked as though a weight had been lifted from me. I wasn't ready to talk much yet, so I got up and walked around a bit. I was still quite deeply in the medicine and fascinated by more of those weeds.  I do remember saying to someone that I wasn't even going to try to describe my experience, because words were inadequate and would fail me. Everyone seemed to understand.

The lady who went last had returned to the group now. It was starting to get dark (and really cold too as Canberra tends to do in August) so we headed in to the nearest town for something to eat. The other guys in the group were all locals and knew a great pizza place in Gundaroo. It was run by two girls – one was a neuroscientist and the other was a forensic archaeologist! The pizzas were really good, too. There were eight of us there, so I didn't really get a good chance to talk one on one with The Doctor, but I know I am going to see him again. After eating, we said our goodbyes and headed back home, and in my case, to my hotel.

I didn't sleep all that well, despite being in one of the most comfortable hotel beds I've ever slept in. I often find that this is the case after a powerful psychedelic experience. I think it's part of the reset that happens in your brain – my body just doesn't need sleep all that much. I think it also helps with the processing.

I left Canberra at about 11.30 the next morning for the drive back to Sydney. The Hume Highway is a pretty good road. It's pretty straight and has a constant speed limit, so I just set the cruise control and headed back home.

I started remembering some more of my experience as I drove. I was approaching a huge smiling face. It was very similar to the face of a classical Thai buddha but rounder and without hair or any type of head-dress, and completely androgynous. Its eyes were closed and I just remember how big the smile was. It seemed that the deeper I went into my experience, the wider and bigger the smile became. I remember thinking that this must actually be the face of God. But although I tried as hard as I could to approach it, it would stay the same size but at the same time get further away. Before long, I was back in Sydney (and the traffic).

That night, I prepared my dinner and poured a glass of wine. I don't really drink that much and the wine seemed to go to my head, so I went outside to sit down amongst my cacti. I had my second flashback. The Doctor had told me to expect flashbacks for up to 72 hours. There was nothing I could actually remember this time, but it was definitely more than the effects of half a glass of wine. That night, I dreamed of being in a room where the walls were made of constantly mutating fractals. My dreams are quite often bizarre, but never psychedelic. This was the third flashback. I slept for eleven hours.


Nothing much to report today. I made some tea from dried caapi leaves before I went to bed. Caapi tea always brings interesting dreams, but there was nothing like the previous night.


Walking down to the shops in the afternoon to grab some fruit and vegetables and something for dinner, I stopped in the pub to talk to a couple of the guys and catch up with my house mate. I had three beers, which is usually about my extreme limit as far as beer goes. I didn't feel at all drunk and went home at about 7pm. Later that night I started to feel absolutely terrible. Not nauseous or hung over or anything like that, just wrong. I had the distinct feeling that my body was rejecting the alcohol I had drunk earlier that evening, and that the medicine I had taken four days earlier was playing a part in this. It was the day before I went back to work, and I never can sleep well, knowing that my alarm is going to go off at 5.45 am. A friend appeared as a zombie in a dream. He seemed to want to tell me something, but couldn't get the words out of his zombie mouth, and just kept frowning frustatedly. It wasn't frightening, more symbolic. I had never seen zombies in my dreams before.


Caapi tea again before bed. More bizarre dreams. The first dream, someone hands me a huge handful of dried mushrooms, and I stuff the whole lot in my mouth. They barely fit, and I just keep chewing and chewing. I don't remember swallowing. Later, in another dream I was walking through the bush with a large kangaroo on my right. We were both carrying cups of ayahuasca. We came to a large rock. The kangaroo hopped up on the rock, turned back to look at me, and poured his medicine out on the rock. I drank mine.


Sitting at my desk at work, I have a sort of a vision that everyone on the floor of the office where I work has been given some type of psychedelic (most likely LSD or mescaline) and are all about to start really freaking out. And I'm going to get blamed for it. The tattoo of the DMT molecule on my arm is going to be all they need to lay the blame squarely at my feet ... all is cool though and no-one starts tripping. Work remains just as boring as always.


I relive my ibogaine experience from more than ten months ago in a dream. It wasn't exactly the same, but in that strange way that dreams have, I knew that I was reliving the experience. I remember closing my eyes and going into the fractal ibogaine universe, and hearing the voice of my ibogaine facilitator, whom I have since become quite good friends with.

DAY 8 (one week has passed since the experience)

Some friends are having a birthday celebration at a local club, so I start and finish work early so I can catch up with everyone. Again, I limit myself to three beers, and then treat myself to a good single malt whisky about an hour after the last beer. At no point do I feel drunk, just happy to be with a group of good friends. However later, after I get home, I get the same feeling as earlier in the week. My body is not accepting the alcohol and it is making me feel awful as a result. I have to pay attention to this. It can't be coincidence. I've never been a big drinker (I certainly don't drink every day), but have never been a teetotaller, either. It seems that alcohol (at least beer) and I may be parting ways before too long.


At this point in my life, with my experience of psychedelics so far (I've tried most of them, except some of the synthetics), I really don't see how I could ever have a more powerful experience than 5-MeO-DMT from the toad. It was transcendent and transformative. I was given a glimpse of infinity. The healing I received from this medicine is going to continue for a long time to come. I have been to the next level.