Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.
Somewhere around 20, it happened. I felt my id and ego dissolve into the space around me and, along with them, my sense of self. Frightened, I sank into the chair and tried to process what was happening. Problem was, "I"—whatever that meant—had ceased to be. The pronoun suddenly seemed like an unnecessary device, a hapless attempt to divide one into many, an act every bit as deft and resourceful as taking a .45 magnum to a horsefly. I was overcome with the sensation that space was two-dimensional, that all existence was a blanket blowing idly in the wind, and we were all a part of it, our consciousnesses the stitching holding it together.
Mark Maxwell
For this trip, the only thing you need to pack is your bowl
Related Content
More About
I was the chair. The chair was me. Just as there was no "I," there was no "other."
Mind you, these sensations were not as literal as these descriptions might imply; translating hallucinogenic abstractions into the written word simultaneously downplays and sensationalizes the experience. How to go about contextualizing something so incomprehensible, so divorced from concrete reference points? You'd have better luck filming a nightmare. Or photographing a dream.
After 10 minutes, normalcy mercifully returned. I felt dizzy and lightheaded for the remainder of the hour. Afterward, just a bit tired. Other than that, I could detect no hangover effects, either positive or negative. The experience was not pleasurable, and reinforced my understanding that Salvia is not a "party drug." This is a substance for psychonauts and the spiritually curious, similar in that regard to psilocybin mushrooms. It's preposterous to think Salvia might ever catch on to the same extent as marijuana or alcohol, irrespective of its legality.
The next day, I called Representative Atkins and asked him if he cared to join me in researching his pet issue more thoroughly. After all, I had plenty of leftovers, and he'd be able to brandish his position with more credibility were he to experience the "drug" firsthand.
"I'm holding a pipe and a baggie of Salvia in my left hand as we speak," I said.
"Frankly, it's not something that I have a considerable amount of time to do," he gamely replied. "Even if I wanted to."
"What if only I smoked it?" I asked. "Would you at least want to observe the effects?"
"Not particularly," he said.
Ultimately, it's this fundamental disconnect that accounts for the misunderstanding surrounding Salvia. As has been the case with other mind-expanding substances, the inability and unwillingness to differentiate between "psychedelically potent" and "socially dangerous" has spawned quixotic efforts to dispose of a natural plant via government prohibition. Maybe this time reason will triumph over fear.
But don't hold your breath.
