The Portal is open: A Winter's Journey

Overview

Timeline

• Preparation

  Things that Influenced the Trip

  T-7d

  Things that Influenced the Trip

  I believe several things influenced the trip and what I ended up experiencing and thinking about. Here is what likely influenced my experience:
  
  - I read the book "Mister God, This is Anna", borrowed from a friend and a very philosophical story
  - I watched a video about how AI development is rolling back progress on phasing out fossil fuels
  - I had had a chat with my friend J before Christmas
  - It was the new year, so I had been thinking about what this new year could bring, including the likely possibility that things will get worse in my home country
  - the day before my trip, I was looking over my novel-in-progress and outlining the final act
  - Other videos I watched where their subject matter came up in the trip:
  -- Philosophy Tube discussing her acting process
  -- an interview with an infuriating woman about the reasons why the birth rate is declining worldwide (and why it's a problem, apparently)
  -- 2 videos from a lesbian YouTuber couple announcing their pregnancy
  -- A Medievalist reacts to Monty Python's The Holy Grail
  
  - That morning, I went for a walk and heard a lot of dogs barking at me through the fences of their houses. That perhaps made that sound associate with negative emotions (which it does anyway)
  

• Come up

  Crawling on the floor

  T+0m

  Crawling on the floor

  I took 2 tabs of LSD around 10:10 AM. The tabs were separated so they moved around in my mouth as I waited the advised amount of time for absorption. The effects were nearly immediate. Just as soon as I had removed the remains of paper from my mouth, I was crawling on the floor, observing what I could see there. I felt like a curious baby who did not yet know how to walk.
  
  Also early on I crouched into child's pose and became a mouse, huddling and shivering and making mouse-like movements by tapping my fingers on the floor.
  

• Dose

  2.0 tabs of LSD

  T+0m

  2.0 tabs of LSD

  No additional information has been provided regarding the dose

• Peak

  Intercourse with God, light, energy

  T+30m

  Intercourse with God, light, energy

  The first God-Fuck: While I was on the floor I lay on my back on the yoga mat and spread my arms and legs wide open. I felt something come inside me, something that grew and was black like space/the universe but somehow fit inside my womb. I was in the throes of terror and ecstasy. I then started breathing heavily and put my legs up as I felt something was coming out. I cried like I was in pain - but it wasn't the pain of childbirth, it was the pain of being born. I started bawling and wrapped myself in the dark blue plush throw blanket I had thrown over myself when I lay down on the floor. I writhed and squirmed and didn't want to get up, clung to the blanket, crying at the pain of being born and alive. I was lying in the sun so the sunlight may have been the one that impregnated and birthed me.
  
  Once I recovered from being born and alive, I rolled over and contemplated my surroundings. It might have been at this time that I did some yoga poses, channeling the pulsing light energies of white and orange from my head to my toes. I don't know which pose it was but I started in child's pose and then got on all fours and lifted one leg, then the other. I really felt/saw the pulsing light energy.
  
  I got up off the floor and went up the ladder to the loft-bed. It took some doing because I felt the overwhelm coming again, but I went step by step, blanket around my shoulders, and made it to the bed.

• Peak

  Upstairs intercourse, shapes, light-shifting, movement, taste

  T+90m

  Upstairs intercourse, shapes, light-shifting, movement, taste

  The second God-fuck: Pulsing lights of gold and white. I was impregnated with light and cried out with joy. Or was I even "I" at that point? Ego-death occurred here. The boundaries of myself dissolved into pulses of light and sound. There were zigzags, swirls, and circles of all colors in the rainbow. I moved in tandem with the shapes that were bursting out through my brain. If it was a circle, I moved myself like a circle (though still lying down the whole time). It was at once frightening and awesome. At one point I touched my hands and face and realized that I was in a body, amazed by that fact. I kept touching my face and hair, eyes still closed, in awe of it all. I was so happy to be in a body. The light was a bright white. The shapes to me represented machines - the twirls of drills, the harsh angles of hammers and nails. I transformed into a dog - no, a wolf - and rolled over to be on all fours. I was a dog being fucked, then the fucking dog, then an angry dog, and I snarled as I moved back and forth.
  
  In some visions I saw shapes reminiscent of American Indian imagery -- white, yellow, green and red on black, with eagles, wolves, men in feathered headdresses, maybe stereotypical but not quite. The imagery was spiritual, keeping me in my god-moment.
  
  It might have been here that I felt a wave of intense loneliness, sat up and became a tree. A very lonely tree, alone in the forest.
  
  While I lay, I observed my hands and waved them around above me, watching the movements they made. That wavy effect you get on acid was happening (called trails, apparently) so it was like my arms were radiating out four-five times. At another point I realized I was 35, which felt old but not old at all. I'd been alive for this long. I was not special, but it was special to be alive here, now, and to have lived the life I have lived so far. I was so grateful for life.
  
  Once the wave had passed I realized I had to pee and went down to pee. Since I was down there I also had some food, but not much. The soup was good, and the bread, and the apple, and the carrot, but not the super-sweet nuts. After having one I put the bag away. I paid attention to how each thing tasted, and mostly enjoyed it. What made me reject the nuts was the overcomplexity of the flavors - they were not plain nuts, but spiced and sweetened with multiple added flavors. It was too much for my mouth.
  
  I felt another wave coming -- it was hard for me to stand or even sit, I had to lie down and close my eyes -- and so I carefully went back upstairs for another communion with God.
  

• Peak

  Meanwhile

  T+100m

  Meanwhile

  Dogs barked throughout the day. There were a lot of dogs in the neighborhood. During my second time upstairs, it made me contemplate why there were so many dogs, because that meant there were so many people, but people probably lived here to get away from people. Another contradiction. I considered this contradiction of how people want to have dogs, which are kind of like people, and bring you to people, but want to not be around people. People are too much.
  
  I definitely had a strong feeling of overwhelm -- there were too many things in the world, too much feeling, so much going on. It blew my mind.
  
  In another, not so strong wave of visions, I saw pulses of bright pink and orange colors and gods that looked like Hindu gods, and also gods that looked like they were from Africa in waves of green and brown. These might have been connected to the club visions actually. Can't quite recall.
  
  For most of this phase, my glasses were off, and on the bed I kept my eyes closed most of the time. When I came downstairs the second time I even made my way to the kitchen with my eyes closed, as if I was a blind person. It wasn't until close to sunset that I put my glasses back on. When I did put them on again around lunchtime (I saw that according to the time it had only been about 2 hours since I'd started -- I laughed in surprise) the sharpness of my sight was too much so I took them off. In the bed, I either had the blanket over my head or the eyeshades on -- I wanted to block out the light.
  
  I was very sensitive to the changes in the light and weather -- if the wind picked up, or clouds moved in front of the sun, I noticed it, even with my eyes closed. A bad feeling came over me. When I got up to get downstairs, I let the light guide me (until I got to the ladder and I needed to see). I did the same when I got to the kitchen.
  

• Peak

  Babbling (Glossolalia), sound-play, the word God - start of contemplation

  T+2h

  Babbling (Glossolalia), sound-play, the word God - start of contemplation

  This time, I experienced disco-waves: first blue and green outlines of a more contemporary hip-hop club against black, then purple figures dressed in afros and bell-bottoms dancing to disco. I started dancing too, and had visions of dancing at a gay club with drag queens. As I was dancing I started making sounds with my mouth - playing with the sounds I could make, being very silly with it. L sounds, vowel sounds, hard and soft sounds. Opening my mouth more or less and moving around my tongue. I even laughed in a bunch of different ways.
  
  I played with the sounds of different words - saying "No" and then "Yes" in different ways. I also sang. "Yesish" singing was high and bright and happy, while "Noish" singing made me so sad I wanted to cry. I tried belting out opera-level tones with "Oh" but my voice broke and I laughed.
  
  At one point I sat up and launched into a very enthusiastic discussion with an imaginary person (I suppose you could say an alien, since they didn't have a face like a human even though they were human shaped - feminine, even, in their hair and dress) talking absolute gibberish. But I was speaking confidently and making gestures. We were catching up at brunch, on an outdoor patio on a sunny day/ I would call the cadence I was using "American," a little Valley Girlish - though I wasn't speaking English. Mostly. Some English words and phrases slipped through - "Yes," "Oh my God," and "What?"
  
  When I realized I didn't understand what I was saying, I got frustrated and started trying to speak English but it didn't work. I was fighting with myself a bit, wanting to speak my own made-up language but then I grabbed my mouth and forced it to make English words so people could understand me and I could understand myself. But I didn't want to so I smacked myself and I cried. I felt like a child who had been having fun making silly sounds and a grownup forced me to speak "proper". The English won out - I stopped speaking gibberish for a while.
  
  I lay down for a while contemplating what just happened. The gibberish was fun but also just sounds. It didn't mean anything. And the scenario in which I used it was one where you don't tend to mean what you say (just a casual conversation with a stranger who you pretend is a good friend but you're not sharing anything important). Except some words, some words stayed in English. Yes. No. Oh my God.
  
  I got stuck on the word "God." I realized how important this word is, how it really encapsulates everything that we do not understand. How it is separate from religion. Religion is fake. I still believed that. I thought about my friend J and her religiousness and how it is fake and how religion is used to separate people. I cried about that. I thought some more and realized I believed in God, and I wanted to get people to believe in God the way I believed in God. I rejected the notion immediately, sitting up after lying down - "No way, I'm not gonna be a cult leader!" - and I picked up a card I had left by the bed and turned it over, refusing to follow the instructions. (The instructions were to let the experience happen) I sat up and thought further about the meaning of God, outside of religion. God is the word we use in English to describe the otherwise indescribable, the awesome power of the world and of life. It is not a word for religion only. God is not a man or a woman. God is no human. God is everything.
  
  I contemplated language, saying different words to see how they felt. I finally understood the Czech word for God, "Buh." I had some fun saying it - it kind of sounded like "boof" or "boo" depending on how you said it. I thought about how you really needed to get a feel for a language to really want to speak it. My fundamental connection to English developed only because it was the first language I learned to speak, which attached words to meanings and feelings. This is what makes the first language different -- the specific sounds and vocabulary get attached to the emotions, experiences and thoughts that before you learn it have no words.
  
  Words such as "What" and "How" also felt charged with meaning. I tried the word "pregnant," and though I had ecstatically declared "I'm pregnant" during the Godfuck I felt nothing now. My body felt uncomfortable, digestion at work, my need to pee growing. I was becoming more aware of my body. How uncomfortable it can feel sometimes. From some point in the afternoon I started having digestive problems and at various points I became aware of this discomfort. I sang the "rock a bye baby" lullaby but of course there was no baby. I was rocking my bladder instead.
  
  I also considered the words "religious," "spiritual," and "mystical." None seemed fit to describe what I was experiencing. I landed on the word "actual." That seemed to fit. I said the word in German, which means "current." Later, at night when I was going to bed, I thought the word "current" also works, in both senses of the word in English: being about what's happening now and the idea of flow.
  
  It might have been this time, too, that I really felt a strong wave of loneliness and sadness that I will never experience so many things, never know so many things -- flashes of my dad and nonexistent high-school friends went through my mind. I wept. I wept so much. I let myself feel like no one cares about me, and cried about that belief even though I knew it wasn't true. And I told myself, "I know it isn't true, but I feel it anyway" as I cried. I cried a lot on that bed. This might have happened around the time I turned into the lonely tree.
  
  Following the thread of religion, I thought of Trump and how he and his supporters are going to further harm people. I scoffed at American culture which helped create this strand of selfishness, that no one matters before yourself, and then thought, no, it's not necessarily American. It is just the name that I've given it. I started thinking about all the things that I did not choose -- my name, who my parents were, where I was born and grew up -- and contemplated how so much of who I am is beyond my control. I wondered about how I got to this place, existentially speaking, and couldn't backtrack. I was here now and that was that. I couldn't trace back to the "cause" because I would inevitably go a different way. There was no going back.

• Peak

  Upstairs, Downstairs - Mind & Body

  T+160m

  Upstairs, Downstairs - Mind & Body

  When I returned downstairs, I went back to being playful, waving my arms around and jumping and hoisting myself from the ground using the kitchen counter and kicking my legs. In the living room I said-sang "up" and "down", moving my arms in a way that demonstrated the words. I wondered how is up, up and down, down? I found it difficult to articulate what I meant without using the words. I started speaking some gibberish again as I looked out the kitchen window (following the instruction "look outside" written on the card there) and then it clicked -- they were just sounds. So many words we use are just sounds. They don't mean anything. Only some words (sometimes?) have real meaning.
  
  I had some more food, including some hummus and pretzel crackers, deliberately ignoring the super-sweet nut-berry mix I had brought. I tried some of the chocolate (flavored with orange) and I didn't like that either. Again, too sweet, too many flavors. It had me thinking about how we numb ourselves with sweetness and overly complex flavors, when the simple things do just fine. How we distract ourselves. This got me thinking -- I keep getting distracted. I set out to do something, or I'm thinking about something, then my body needs to be fed or have its bladder emptied out. Or I see something interesting. Perhaps it's not distraction -- it's just living.
  
  The first time I went to pee, I was still in the peak, so I made my movements very slowly and deliberately. I said to myself "I have to take care of my bodily needs, from baby to old lady." As I rolled down my leggings (which were a bright turquoise, with hot-pink socks on my feet) I felt like a baby, or at least a potty-trained toddler, but when I finished and rolled my leggings back up, I felt like an old lady. Upstairs, when I first felt the pangs of hunger and the need to empty my bladder, I ignored them, thinking, "I'll take care of it when it's time." This line of thinking also applied to other things.
  
  Downstairs, I made a connection between "up" and "down" -- "upstairs" was the God-place, the thinking-place, and downstairs was where I took care of my body. The setup of the tiny house was an external representation of the internal workings of my mind. Upstairs/downstairs, inside/outside.
  
  From some point in the afternoon, when I was still upstairs, I anticipated going outside. I knew I would want to, but it felt too busy, especially when I saw cars and people on bikes go by through the window. I had to wait until it was dark. I also anticipated the darkness, which while on the one hand I seemed to want (since I kept blocking out the light) and on the other hand I dreaded a little bit. But I assured myself, it was fine.
  
  I gradually got dressed, putting clothes over my base layers -- this happened very slowly. I put on a t-shirt and then got moving (maybe even before the second upstairs), then put on a sweater, then watched the amazing orange sunset and the clouds shifting in the sky, then put on snowpants and socks, then paced around thinking some more, then finally I had my coat and scarf and hat on and shoes and was ready to go outside.
  
  When it started to get dark, it was finally time to go outside. I was ready.

• Peak

  Walk to a Beautiful View and a Tree Friend

  T+6h

  Walk to a Beautiful View and a Tree Friend

  

  The view of the mountain. Distant, but it’s there

  It was a little bit scary to go outside. There were houses all around me and I didn't want to see any people. Luckily I didn't. I heard a bunch of dogs barking (about an hour before the sounds of activity had increased -- dogs barking, cars on the road, voices, echoing). I tread carefully, since the path was crusted with ice and snow and was slippery in some parts. Though it had snowed earlier so there was a fresh soft layer on the ground. It didn't take long before the sounds of human/civilized activity faded and I entered the quiet. If I heard dogs barking, wolves appeared in my periphery, but white, ghostly ones. The spirits of the wolves were there but I didn't feel frightened. In fact, I felt completely safe on my walk -- more safe than I have ever felt before.
  
  I spotted the shape of a mountain behind a sparse cluster of trees and my feet carried me in that direction. I had walked much of this path before, which made me wonder, did I already know the mountain was there? I might have unconsciously registered the shapes on my walk in the morning before I took the acid, but certainly in the moment it felt fateful, that I would walk to see this mountain now. I headed straight for the spot with the view, walking confidently, if slowly to avoid slipping, veering off the main path. When the mountain fully came to view, my breath caught. It all was so majestic and beautiful, the silence of winter total, the cold air fresh. I chose a tree to lean against and contemplate the view. I felt very connected to the tree and tried leaving a few times but kept coming back to it. I looked up and saw that it was very tall. I hugged it, wished it were warm. I was alone but sharing the incredible view with this tree. I felt so happy and peaceful. The cloudy sky was streaks of gray and blue, the snow crusty and crunchy but the whiteness brightening up the dusk. I stood on snow-covered batches of grasses by the tree, and the snow outside of the path was softer, more comfortable to tread on than the well-worn path.I enjoyed being there so much I wished I could stay longer but I was getting cold so had to go back.
  
  I noticed on the walk back that I could still see quite well, that though it was dark it was still light enough for me to see the path and the outlines of the trees. I walked with total confidence in where I was going, though as with the walk to the mountain view, I walked slowly and the walk felt very long (though I doubt it was hardly more than 800 meters or so). Sounds returned and the streetlights were on by now. I saw no one and was able to go back to the house without seeing anyone. Phew.
  
  The mountain felt like a goal I knew I had to reach. (or at least the view of it) Representative of a larger one? Or the goal is simply to experience the beauty of this Earth and of life.

• Wind down

  Contemplation Part I: Energy

  T+7h

  Contemplation Part I: Energy

  

  Though I wished I could stay outside longer, getting back inside was a relief. I was happy to be back in the warmth, safe in my little home. I imagined how other people were doing the same thing. I thought about how it took so much to get me to go outside (outside representing the outside world, not just my own little world) and be exposed to other people, and realized that it must be the same for other people too. This followed on from the idea that there is so much inside me, as one person, and to think that there is at least as much in all the other people in the world was mind-boggling.
  
  I did a lot of thinking in the early hours of the night. I talked through a lot of it. I felt cold so I made a fire in the wood-burning furnace without a second thought. Yesterday I didn't do this and it made me think how I can be so hesitant to do things. Earlier when I made soup it was super easy to turn on the induction stove, whereas the day before I got easily frustrated. The stress and anxiety was gone.
  
  Watching the fire, which as always mesmerizes, I considered energy. How the wood, by being heated so that it catches fire and burns, released energy and therefore more heat. I thought about the question of energy, which I said, "That is the real question," of our time -- fossil fuels creating so much energy we can power all the internet. The amount of energy they released was incredible -- ancient energy stored from the sun millions of years ago, transformed into electricity so we can have the technology we have now. I called out for Chat GPT to help me understand how fossil fuels have so much energy, but that wasn't how it worked so I tried Google since I don't have the app on my phone, then turned on my computer to open Chat GPT, acknowledging that I was burning fossil fuels to get the answer. Chat GPT's answer was so obvious I felt almost silly for thinking I had originally come up with this earth-shattering revelation. That it was all sunlight stored from millions of years ago. That all energy really goes back to the sun. A gust of wind passed through and I acknowledged the wind has a lot of energy too. But that is the fundamental problem. Energy. How to sustain it so we can enjoy our current level of comfort.
  

• Wind down

  Contemplation Part II: Expression and Communication

  T+8h

  Contemplation Part II: Expression and Communication

  I considered how I was alone, but felt no desire or need to talk to anyone. Despite having a phone and wi-fi. I responded to messages I received and saw while tripping in this period but didn't want to talk. People's addictions to phones wasn't about the phones, I realized -- it was something deeper. They don't want to feel alone. They want to distract themselves from their feelings. It was the world in which smartphones developed.
  
  Sometime early in the evening I wanted to listen to music, but then I thought it wasn't time yet. I wanted to look at pictures so opened Instagram but I didn't see any interesting pictures -- too many words, in fact -- so I closed it. I thought about listening to a podcast or something but I realized that was just so I could listen to the sounds of voices.
  
  Throughout the evening, I kept adjusting myself to be warm and comfortable -- sitting close to the fire, then away from the fire on the couch, removing a layer, adding a layer, putting the blanket around my shoulders -- paying attention to how I felt.
  
  Sitting in front of the fire I started making silly sounds again, then decided to record myself on my phone. I sang about the problem I was having -- not having the words to describe my feelings and experience -- and making words quiet and loud and in different ways.
  
  Throughout the evening, I returned to this problem of expression. I couldn't find the words -- maybe music was better? I listened to the first songs of the playlist P sent me and felt like all the artists had experience with acid. Many of the sounds produced really sounded like how some sounds sound when you're on acid -- distorted, echoy voices, reverbs, odd sounds. Then I contemplated art and finally took out the colored pencils I had brought and drew some stuff. I used bright colors and was really immersed in the moment as I drew.
  
  But after turning the various mediums over and over, I came to the conclusion that no medium aptly captures the ineffability of experience -- all are fundamentally incomplete. Maybe movies? Eh, not quite. Movies are too complicated to make.
  
  I picked up the book "Mister God, This is Anna," which I had brought with me, a few times. When I first picked it up, I was amazed that someone could write so many words. It was too much. What was the point? Too many words. But then I fell again on this question of creation and imagination and returned to the book, since I remembered a passage that discussed the question of imagination -- how one can imagine things that do not exist outside yourself. I couldn't find the passage but fell upon the bit about rest. Yes, God created rest and it was good. I was tired, that's why I didn't want to create anything right now. But why was I so tired?
  
  Considering this book and the other book I had brought with me, I thought about how pointless the existence of so many books were. How insubstantial so many of them were, created for the purpose of accumulating capital and not to enrich hearts and minds. The books I had with me were not these kinds of books. I perhaps unfairly called out Emily Henry on this -- acknowledging to myself that her work may mean something to someone other than her. Among the many other stances I reaffirmed on this trip, I decided that I was writing to express myself, to try to communicate my ideas and worldview to others. The problem of communication is very much related to the problem of expression. Considering Mister God again I recognized that all the words inside the book added up to a particular meaning -- every word was important. This reaffirmed my commitment to writing, which I found myself questioning as I considered other art forms. Stories mattered -- they just had to mean something. Every word counted. Even in a book-length work. Complex yet incomplete, yes, but meaningful.
  
  When I thought about talking to people on the phone, I figured out that the reason why I didn't want to do that is because the experience would be incomplete -- I wanted to be with their whole person, not just hear their voice. This is why internet communication and connection will never really be a substitute for in-person ones.
  
  I considered the word "sober." I referred to my future self a few times as "when I'm sober." But what is sober, really? A sober person can be addicted to caffeine and sugar. Is that really sober? True sobriety would be to remove all substances that ultimately make us numb -- and it's possible that in recent months I've had days where I experienced "true" sobriety. Of course, all things you ingest are substances in some way, but they have nutrients. R is killing himself by drinking, I thought. I sighed with exasperation.
  
  Early on in the evening, I looked at all the things I had brought with me -- the notebooks, the colored pencils, the books, the token objects -- and laughed at the fact that I had brought all this stuff and hadn't used it. But by the end of the night, I would have used almost all these objects.

• Wind down

  Creation and Procreation

  T+9h

  Creation and Procreation

  Third Godfuck: I was sitting on the couch and then decided to lie down. Another wave came over me. I was getting impregnated again (I even said "it's happening again"). This time I felt my vulva expanding, like a baby's head was crowning through the opening, and I cried out as if I was in pain though I wasn't. I expected the baby to come into my arms, but I think I just birthed something else - an idea, maybe. There was a lot of feeling in this region, where my vulva was. A very sensitive area.
  
  After a while I sat up. I may have contemplated pregnancy not long after this. Was I pregnant? (Probably not, just digestive issues) Did I want to be pregnant? I considered this question again, one I thought had been decided, but this time I really considered the possibility. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a kid, even if I was alone in raising it. At least after a few years. Kids are interesting creatures, and I do, deep down, have that biological urge to reproduce. I imagined myself taking care of a kid, about five years old, with features similar to mine. But it would be a big change, something I couldn't fathom accommodating into my life at this moment. I grew up into conditions not conducive for this choice, and I do not want to alter my conditions significantly enough to make this choice. The idea sounded nice, but the reality was much less rosy. This led me to considering another choice -- the choice to move -- since this tiny house resembled my apartment somewhat but was much nicer, and warmer. I couldn't commit to that choice yet -- even just a move feels too complicated and overwhelming at the moment.
  
  I thought about kids in general -- how they are also a sort of transferred energy, a renewal of perspective, a light into the future -- but way too often kids get the light snuffed out of them (I was thinking, "their potential bashed out", trying out various violent verbs) by the society that they are born into. We place so much hope into the younger generation and yet we raise them to fit into the world we hope they will change. How the fuck is that supposed to work? Another contradiction. Kids are broken. Like I was broken. I cried a little about that.
  
  When the digestive problem burbled up again I considered a colonoscopy. How old did you have to be to be recommended that? I should pay more attention to what I put into my body. I'd been having digestive problems for over a week at this point and I had no idea what was the cause, only hoped that it would go away as long as I didn't aggravate it too much. But I kept having digestive problems. Maybe it was something more? I worried for a little bit.
  
  Earlier I had felt lonely and unloved before because I didn't have the type of relationship that society tells us to want -- but in the evening, I thought, fuck all of that. Don't go to school, don't get a job, don't get married, don't have kids. That's not what a good life is about. I didn't contemplate my relationships much but I did consider polyamory -- how it's kind of similar to the serial monogamy most people practice, but done in tandem. As I talked about the subject I shifted my lips from one end to the other end, as if talking to one person on one side, and another person on the other side.

• Wind down

  Creation, in Action

  T+9.5h

  Creation, in Action

  I knelt down onto the floor when the fire was still going and thanked the floor. Or, rather, the tree for becoming this house. I felt so grateful for everything. Thank you, God, I almost said.
  
  It was getting late, but maybe around 9? when I went to the table and started drawing. I had been on the couch with my eyes closed when the outlines of 2 characters in my WIP emerged, and I felt inspired to try and draw them. However, the idea felt too daunting once I had the notebook and pencils ready so I drew whatever came from my imagination. I wanted to draw from my imagination and not from life.
  
  First I drew what seemed like a totally random picture, but looking at it again in the morning I can see the meaning in it: a castle, a sword with a cross-like handle and an upside-down heart. The picture symbolically represented my story and what it was about. Then I drew simple, cartoonish portraits of the 4 principal characters in my story. The main character came easily to me, the lines flowing easily from my hand. I thought that would be it, but then I decided to draw another character -- an image coming to my mind and translating it to paper -- and then another. The second character I drew, I heard a lot of dogs barking, and I felt uncomfortable. This one is a bit of an antagonistic character so it sort of made sense. The third character took a bit more work to put on paper, but I liked the result. I used a different color to draw each character.
  
  The last one was the hardest. First I had to go through a couple other colors, then the face shape (which was what I started with -- first the face shape, then the hair and neck, then the details of the face, maybe a bit more lines after that). The result was scary. It was difficult to finish it once I had drawn the eyes. I closed the notebook as soon as I considered myself finished. So this character was the true villain of the story.

• Wind down

  Light in the Dark

  T+10.5h

  Light in the Dark

  At this point things were getting quiet outside. I didn't feel tired yet and felt I had to keep myself busy. The last face I drew also kept rising into my mind so I wanted to avoid thinking about it. I sat for a while, had some hot water, listened to the rest of P's playlist (but listened to a Chappell Roan song first, did some dancing, thinking about movement and how actors express character through movement, how was I moving now, how would that be interpreted?) and by that point I was feeling a bit tired and like my mouth needed to be cleaned so I brushed my teeth.
  
  I got ready for bed using the bathroom light even though I thought it was too bright, but it was too dark otherwise. I showered and felt a little nervous having the door closed but I assured myself that I was safe. The dark was scaring me a little bit at this point -- the quietness too -- and so I tried to focus on the tasks at hand rather than think about outside.
  
  I went to bed not feeling tired but knowing I had to lie down. I kept thinking. I got up a couple times to write down some phrases that I thought should be written down immediately, and felt annoyed by it but did it anyway. I thought about God -- I believe in God, not religion -- and watched the snowstorm rage outside the window. I thought about sex, walking my index and middle fingers down a ceiling beam, how monogamy makes sense on its face because you usually have sex with just one person at a time. Sex is a procreative act, but also a creative act -- you're creating an experience together with another person. The desired result is simply to enjoy each other's company.
  
  Before long my consciousness was fading and I closed my eyes. Funnily enough, I kept the light on for a while, then when I turned off the light I kept the curtain open, where the beam from the streetlight shone through. In the light, I wanted darkness; in the darkness, I wanted the light.
  
  When I closed my eyes I saw some visuals again, but they were a bit weaker. Blue-and-white images of snow falling, cartoon animals lying down for the night (deer and foxes and birds), white wolves running through the forest, the song "Let it Snow" conjuring 1950s people decorating a Christmas tree (shades of bright red and green). I sang out the chorus for that one.
  
  Rolling on my side, I got sexual images again, but weaker this time. Naked bodies, fabulous-looking women of all races with bare breasts, pulses of Brat going purple and green. At one point I felt myself inflating, as if I were getting fat, and I felt disgusted. I think this was followed by another burst of digestive troubles.
  
  Lying in bed I considered how what I had recently watched may have influenced my trip. I had watched a pregnancy announcement video from a lesbian couple the day before -- and recalling this video I thought it sad that the couple -- no, just the one shooting the videos -- may be missing out on being fully present in the moment for the sake of content and for broadcasting their life on YouTube. I felt sad for her.
  
  I curled up in a fetal position and wondered if I would get born again. But no, the bed was just nice and safe and warm, kind of like the womb when you think about it, and the festal position was a good way to keep warm since you keep your extremities close to your core.
  
  I was expecting to see Death again, but that did not happen. Instead I recalled the last face I had drawn. I didn't have to see Death because I had drawn him.
  
  At some point I passed out into a dream. I dreamed and woke three times, though I don't remember much about the dreams. In one there was a sense of danger -- the wrong word could lead to death -- and in another an assortment of Asian sauces were balanced precariously on a shelf. At one point I played a giant instrument that I wasn't supposed to play. Weird but not exactly bad dreams.

• Aftereffects

  The Morning After

  T+24h

  The Morning After

  I lay in bed for a while, grateful once again for the experience. I was eager but also reluctant to try to recall it. But after breakfast and a walk, I felt I could manage it. On the walk, I really felt like I was in communion with God. Viewing the mountain again, in the quiet and the brightness of the snowy day, I felt so peaceful. Happy to be a part of this universe.

• Integration

  Post-Trip Analysis

  T+30h

  Post-Trip Analysis

  This journey reaffirmed a lot of beliefs that I've already held for some time. I took the time to really feel them, to question them, even -- something that is worth doing every once in a while I understand the importance and limitations of words, and know the meaning of the word God as separate from religion. I don't think this will lead to much of a change in habits, but the outlook is really humbling.
  
  I also realized how other creative forms can be useful to me as a writer -- music, dancing, song, acting, drawing. In a way, creative expression is best done holistically -- even if the work you do in other forms is unseen and not "good." The drawing exercise helped me express how I understand my story and the characters. I have bought more colored pencils and a sketchbook. I would like to also incorporate some of these other creative forms in my life from time to time.

• Result

  Mystical Experience Questionnaire

  T+32h

  Mystical Experience Questionnaire
  Mystical experience

  Positive mood

  Transcendence

  Altered time and space

  Overall score

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