psilocibin | Nicholas Dale Taylor's Blog

Most people have at least heard of some form of hallucinogen whether it be mushrooms, lysergic acid or peyote but few people have heard of the only endogenous hallucinogenic agent, DMT The Spirit Molecule.

To preface this article with a brief personal account, I have never taken DMT but have had two out-of-body experiences one of which occurred during a period of high stress associated with death. In addition, I have taken psilocybin on three cases one of which can be found in an earlier article (see Snowy Silhouette Skies).

While conservatively dismissed as nothing but time-wasting mind altering substances or “hippie drugs” Rick Strassman, M.D. chronicles supported clinical studies of DMT through rich detail of the drug produced by our own bodies, follows the effects across numerous case studies and speaks to why studies of these and other substances will prove beneficial to the scientific community and to the populace at large.

This book provides documentation concerning the study of near-death and mystical experiences. It does not set out to prove or define life after death but rather records sessions focused on gathering neurological and biological data in addition to case by case testimony.

Divided into six parts, the first of which focuses on “The Building Blocks” and introduces the reader into brief jargon and needed definitions. We find here that all psychedelic drugs are divided into two main families, the phenethylamines and the tryptamines. Dimethyltryptamine, or DMT, belongs to the tryptamine family along with some non-halluncinogenic substances serotonin and tryptamine (an amino acid required for digestion. Among fellow psychedelics psilocybin (found in magic mushrooms), LSD and ibogaine (the drug known to alleviate addictive behavior) rests DMT; it is short-lived but extremely potent and primarily associated with the pineal gland and is released into the body during rare, heightened instances such as birth and death. The drug can also be injected and doing so in a controlled setting was the basis for study over the arc of many individuals during Dr. Strassman’s research. Natural releases or concentrated doses of the drug are often affiliated with interpreted “out-of-body” travels. With now a novice understanding of the spirit molecule we proceed into personal accounts.

Bullets on page 93 detail the doctor’s “dose-response” program and are as follows:

Recruit “well-functioning, experienced hallucinogen users” for volunteers;
Develop a method to measure DMT in blood
Create a new rating scale by which we could access DMT’s psychological effects; and
Characterize psychological and physical responses to several doses of DMT.

Part IV is titled “The Sessions.” Working in accordance with FDA and DEA regulations the research began in late 1990 with the first administration to associate guinea pig Philip and onto many volunteer reports. Said reports related events of the consciousness being liberated from the binding body, traveling to far off lands or outer space and encountering other forms of intelligence. Dosage followed controlled amounts either blind or non-blind the latter of which involved informing the recipient if the amount of the drug would be low or high. One classic case centered on the 39-year-old female volunteer, Willow. “Willow’s dawning awareness of a ‘light down below, the world’s light’ also reminds us of one of the last bardos in The Tibetan Book of the Dead. This is the stage in which the soul starts looking for a new body in which to incarnate, sees the lights of the world, and starts its descent” (pg. 226). The overwhelming majority of testimonies elaborate on oneness with the universe, God’s love and a greater sense of being; a shocking number share encounters with the same characters or deities of other life.

cover illustration by Alex Grey, Click here to buy DMT the Spirit Molecule

Part VI, “What Could and Might Be” discusses the future of psychedelic research. In his brilliant analogy Dr. Strassman relates the brain, as the receiving model of our reality, to a television receiving streams from different channels. DMT and like psychedelics allow us to tune into the other channels, planes of existence or parallel dimensions (recommended read here see Nick’s Picks, The Hidden Reality by Brian Greene). So long as the human mind continues to expand we will dive further down the black hole of uncertainty towards enlightenment. DMT is one of the window opening tools allowing entry into the involvement and research needed to better define our existence outside of the limiting, physical body.

Considering all the intelligent species of our planet the duty of knowing the unknown falls before us and us alone.

One month ago I was returning from the New Years trip of my life thus far, today I was reminded of those same skies of Glennie, Michigan.

Eastern dragonesque skies race across my memory as I fondly envision the wisps of Kate’s hair blending with crackles of the outdoor daylight fire while one of my newest friends Ryan sits pensively, occasionally nodding his head into his recently acquired shaman walking stick. I have never seen a more beautiful sky.

While the road trip began 6 days before, driving ’round the great lake from Chicago with a pit stop in Indiana, passing past Bay City (Madonna’s birthplace) and on into the little bear property of 4 log cabins, the actual trip began about 5 hours before it ended.

In my mind I count 9 of us around the great table of the main lodge while we eat our small fill some of which are peanut butter, bananas and, of course, mushrooms before heading outside across the melting lake and into the enigmatic forest of shades.

I warn all that I am very much going my own way but that I would be in and out of their existence and whether they knew it or not that is exactly what we were all in store for that gorgeous day.

Crossing the beaver bridge lent to my moment of filling it come, in the moment, and filling in the others with feelings of welcome as I say, “Welcome to the other side.” Up the hill just a few steps is when it hits Erik, he apologizes, “sorry guys,” only to kneel before the forest to vomit a couple of times. Walking by, I notice he’s alright and continue on my way with the flighty fairy named Amanda close behind immersed in moment after moment of fantastic jubilation.

At one point, I stopped, overwhelmed, noting where I was, standing, as just two nights previous I heard Kate’s voice scream across the lake, “Help! Wolves!” Eric and I had been searching for a concerned minute as she had disappeared for the last hour. She screamed; I bolted as quickly as one can through 2 feet snow drifts, down the hill towards the lake; We met. She collapsed once she reached snowy footing away from the ice. It was night. “There were eyes, all around me, eleven of them,” Kate said. “It’s o.k., you’re safe now. I had my knife ready, you see? Just in case I had to fight them away.” She took no notice past her own racing heart, aching knees and prolonged breaths. Eric reached us, “Why would you do that Kate?” After a breath, “I was just walking; I don’t know. I just wanted to be alone man.”

But I realize I’m in the past now and keep walking past the place I’ve never seen but know only to well. I hear another yell, this time from the other side of the lake; I’m in her place and she in mine. Dennis is with her as Eric was with me. “Wooooooooooooo-uh!” She calls with vivid lingering echo through our isolated heaven of escape. I quicken my pace walking through overwhelming colors of autumn somehow left untouched by the breath of mother winter. The ground plants appear monstrous and somehow I know that I’m a part of this great vision that I can somehow view and yet simultaneously realize I am not separate from any form I see. I stand at the edge of the lake flooded with arrays of light breaking the stratus and bending off glacious fragments of iridescent ice. The bridge I crossed is now across from me in this sight. It is day. Flowing winds are my emotions as they carry me closer to the lodge and away from my crossed over companions some of which remain very new to this bifurcated reality. Andrew and Cristin, Ryan’s brother Kevin and his friend Brendan some of which were and some of which were not but all of which were still on the other side in their own adventures and mesmerizing laughs and guffaws are a few to name.

Yet here I am knowing my story, past the fire and the ice and the strands of Kate’s hair on up into the breath-taking sight of the glorious sky and full on touches from an ever moving pugnaciously effervescent gale. It was mine. It was ours. We were loved and smiled upon. And amidst today’s state of emergency blizzard aftermath of Chicago 2011, on a walk with Robert, I saw an almost same sky beyond the outline of reminiscence.