Why words?

[Flow of consciousness processing — “integration” — after my first psychedelic experience (Ketamine-Assisted Psychedelic Therapy) from this morning]

“Why words?”

Indeed, why words? 

And yet, that’s what I’m using right now, right now, writing words. Writing words. 

Why words? 

Because they define us…? Maybe…? 

Because sometimes they’re all we’ve got, all we’re allowed to have or to use. 

Allowed. 

“Allow” 

“Let it be”

It wasn’t a rational “let it be”. It was profound, full of meaning, like there was a whole other dimension to it. A whole other dimension to everything, to ALL, and it was ALL ONE. 

It was ALL ONE. 

“There’s a light”, I said a couple times. 

I wonder whether that might have been the real, actual light in the room, maybe from the candle lit at the foot of the bed, by the door, seeping in through/under the shades on my eyes? 

But sometimes it was also just brightness in the colors and shapes that I was seeing & feeling. Because I could feel them with my whole body, although my body felt like it wasn’t there. 

Pure disembodied consciousness. As my “self” or “a self” but not my usual self and not separate from the Whole. Part of the whole without being either separate or lost. 

“Oh my gosh!” 

I know that also came out of my mouth, several times, from pure overwhelm — in a good sense, if “good” & “bad” even make sense here… 

And then I checked with my guide a couple times, asking “I am safe?” and “I’m not alone?” 

What I was feeling was in many ways scary and indescribable, scary because indescribable, but not “bad”. And all I really needed was the reassurance of being “safe” & “not alone”. 

At the end my sailing buddy was there and so was my dad, at the L*** beach, in the early 2000’s, where they belong. 

And my sailing buddy and the boulderer and my dad and I are all the same thing: we’re all the same type of boy. And so the only one of us that I need to keep carrying along with me is Me — the rest I can leave behind. 

The rest I can leave behind — like that sailboat did, sailing off, out into the ocean from the beach shore — the last image I saw before coming back to the present or “regular” consciousness.