The sparrows are back in the bush by the eaves after years of absence. Exultations of cheeps. Even under the marauding columns of rain coming up from the Atlantic reaches the gorse is a promissory vow. He loves me he loves me not. Yesterday, in the discussion, we spoke of plant medicine, ingestions of plant hallucinogens, shifts in perspective. I admitted, too, to my own experiences of psylocybin, magic mushrooms, gathered from the moor and eaten. I said too how benevolent plant spirits can also create new paradigms in the participant, even without ingestion. I didn't mention those hours I spent gazing, as a student all those years ago in a tall mediaeval building, on the grass below whose roots, through the clear haze offered by pure lysergic acid, performed a never-ending stately pavane beneath the lawn, and how nothing for me could ever be the same again. In the orchard, apple tree roots are awakening, beginning their new age-old dance. No inside no outside say the teachings.
Sheena writes: 'You asked me about the ceremony in Peru - and when I read your latest blog it reminded me of an amazing phenomenon. The shaman did not give me any aya[huasca] (because of my great age!). So I was under no ingested influences whatsoever apart from having previously dieted on a very benign and spiritual, non-hallucinogenic on its own, plant called bobinsana.The ceremony took place indoors at night in complete darkness, apart from a little starlight from the window. And as it got under way the jungle came into the room! I could see the trees. As you say, no inside, no outside...'
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