Tryptamine Dreams

By Aubrey Marcus February 14, 2017

I had a dream that I smoked DMT. I set up sacred space, a teaching consistent across all shamanic traditions I have encounterd. I switched on a salt lamps, ignited a charcoal burner, put on some Native American tunes, and set my intent. It was a rather vague intent, but I felt it would suffice. For some reason I was in a rush-- perhaps I hadn't quite slowed down yet from a busy work day. I put some dragon’s blood copal resin on the charcoal burner and washed my hands and face in the sour pine-scented smoke. It was a modification of a cleansing ritual learned from vegetalista Maestro Orlando, and the Maestra of the temazcal I met in Costa Rica. I didn’t feel the butterflies as I usually do… It was almost as if something inside me just wanted to hurry up and get it done. The white DMT crystals were sandwiched between layers of dried passion flower, a mild and natural MAOi that helps to extend the length of the journey by preventing the rapid breakdown of the DMT.

My first few puffs burned through the top layer of the herb only. I enjoyed the mild pleasant aroma and warm smoke in my lungs. My fourth puff I could sense the DMT beginning to melt. I held it in for as long as I could. Repeat. The next breath had the signature scent and heat of melted tryptamine crystals. It was hard to keep in, but I just kept swallowing it down. A faint buzzing came to my ears, and the subtlest pattern in the air signified the coming of the chrysanthemum. One more puff: Big and full. This last pull was no longer challenging for my lungs... a good sign that I was ready for takeoff. I lay the pipe to my side. The buzzing amplified in intensity and the blackness of my eyelids exploded in a million Amoebas of light, swirling in kaleidoscopic colors. The plankton made up the form of a male and a female, seemingly locked in a struggle like contesting rams. As I pondered the living image in front of me, the awareness shifted, and I understood that what appeared at first as struggle, was an essential unity. The eternal embodiment of the yin and yang. Having been translated, the microbial light swirled and twisted and I embarked on a journey of light and color. Plants, insects, fauna of all sort, and mechanical beings appeared in spectrums of light unintelligible to the conscious eye. I asked myself, like the man from the infamous double rainbow YouTube, ‘what does this mean’? No answer came… Just a horde of mechanized grasshoppers joining to form a craft, taking off silently from a field of electric green grass.

As the visions subsided a message enveloped me like a down blanket on a chilly night. It was a message of authenticity, a re-grounding and reconnection to truth. Even when I think I am being 100% genuine, usually the impeccable psychedelic mirror will show me where I have erred from my course. I felt incredibly grateful and humbled by this gift. This was enough for one night. A valuable teaching, and a lesson well received from beyond the plane of consciousness. But something called me to go back. I dropped a pinch of Palo Santo sawdust on the charcoal burner and savored the clean, sweet scent. How pleasant that must have been the first time our ancestors put this jungle wood into the fire! My younger brother of the way packed another passiflora/dmt/passiflora sandwich in the bowl, and gave me the honors once again. The process repeated. But this time, on the 4th inhale as the chrysanthemum came, the spinning amoebas of light were gone as quickly as they appeared. With the 5th breath held in, a rainbow web of glistening light strands settled over me as I lay back. I was at the center of what felt like a protected nexus. I smiled as broadly and truly as a human being is capable and stretched my arms out like Da Vinci’s sketch of man. Appearing in front of me was a being reminiscent of a sculpted Mayan Jaguar. It looked not as a zoological Jaguar, but more like the representations in stone you find in South America, something more lion like, akin to a Chinese Fu Dog. His jaws were open and an intense white light emanated from his mouth, stretching a full 16 inches in diameter. He sunk his teeth painlessly into my chest and throat, and a brilliant light pulsated inside his head. I began to laugh. I sensed the onset of rapture, an itch similar to what I felt in an epic Ayahuasca trip two years ago in Peru. Just then, a car parked across the street from my window and started blaring Tejano music. The horns and whistles of the music juxtaposed with my experience made the hilarity of this cosmic circumstance too much to bear. Here I was, blasted to the 7th dimension with a giant jaguar of light devouring my chest, and back in the 4th dimension was a straight up fiesta. Laughter pealed from the core of my being. The lion being was either not amused, or completely indifferent to the Tejano jams, as he continued the diligence of his work. I didn't know what he was doing, but every moment he spent gorging on me I grew lighter and happier. I took a chance to look at his mane and inside were a thousand rainbow lion dogs with a full cascade of color dancing within their tiny bodies. They were playing, wrestling and fighting… Active and alive.

Five real minutes passed, and slowly like a giant vacuum cleaner the lion slid down toward my feet, devouring whatever was not light. I became aware of my body again. I felt my chest with foreign fingers, but it still wasn’t quite mine yet. My spirit was not embodied. I tactilely explored my arms and hips, becoming reacquainted with the vessel that we so often feel is inseparable from our identity. My body was a curious thing at that point, but I was grateful as always for the care I have taken to make it as functional as possible. I was born again that moment as a full adult, with full consciousness.

I sat up, and I was more ME than I have been in months. Soul and body re-united, re-connected, and at one with truth, joy, sadness, love and life.

The entire experience from start to finish lasted about 42 minutes...the amount of time a 1 hour tv show lasts if you fast forward the commercials.

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