5 Dried Grams of Mushrooms

5 dried grams in silent darkness - the famous “heroic dose” prescribed by Terence McKenna. This daunting voyage is famous in psychedelic lore. It is almost viewed as a challenge to those who need a major ego-check or want an unbridled psychedelic experience. I will say, I had high expectations for what could unfold on this trip. 5 Grams of mushrooms is something I feel a seasoned Psychonaut needs to have on his resume to get a full appreciation of what Psilocybin can do to the mind. Having been through 400 micrograms of LSD and 180 mg of MDMA, I’m no stranger to high dosage trips and was curious about this one.

For the uninitiated, a famous psychedelic figure by the name Terence McKenna proposed 5 dried grams of Psilocybin Mushrooms taken in silent darkness was the epitome of hallucinogenic trips. Unfathomable phenomena were said to happen: hallucinations so intense the ordinary room disappeared; theories that the mushroom was an entity that could communicate with those who ingest it in high dosages; and a general show of alien architecture through living dimensions. The reports of trippers online often read something like this: “it wasn’t too silent and it wasn’t very dark.” Many internet forums described the experience as an “alien abduction.”

Having eaten mushrooms multiple times, but never over 3.5 grams, I knew they always had an alien feel to them. I didn’t think these rumors were too outlandish at all and expected them to become real to me. I expected the room my physical body inhabited to be replaced with a mentally generated world, filled with non-local entities communicating secrets of the universe through telepathy. 5 grams promised to be perfectly extraterrestrial. Although, however eager I was for this trip it didn’t turn out as anticipated.

9:15 P.M.

My tripping partner, Burgundy, and I are all set. It’s late July, a warm Sunday, as we stand outside bearing witness to the most beautiful sunset with pink streaks running through the summer eve’s sky. We’re smoking a cigarette before the event begins to discuss the matters at hand and what we are about to encounter. Admittedly there is some apprehension present. My uncle calls me as we step inside to get on with what we are here to do tonight.

While speaking on the phone, I gaze ahead of me at the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an adjacent bag of the sacred fungus resting on the coffee table. By the time I hang up the phone it is completely dark outside. Burgundy’s girlfriend tells us goodnight. I tear the sandwich in half, hand half to Burgundy, and we sprinkle 5.01 grams on mine and 5.25 grams on his. Time to let the madness begin; consuming that many mushrooms is a special moment. All the time spent chewing is time spent thinking about what is to come- whatever that may be.

Burgundy has really gone above and beyond in his preparations for this trip – hanging up blackout curtains, turning off or unplugging anything that would project a light or cause a noise; he’s serious about this trip. We rearrange all the furniture so that the living room is a big open space and spread blankets out to lie on. Once satisfied, we turn out the lights, sit on the blankets, and wait. It is precisely at this point things really hit me; this is about to happen. Inertly waiting in silent darkness for this many mushrooms to kick in prompts me that shit is soon to get very real. I start thinking that this may have been a gigantic mistake. For a moment I panic and turn a light on. I turn to Burgundy and address my concerns that a psychological crisis could be imminent. He does not look panicked at all. “Aren’t you nervous?” I ask. He shakes his head. “Mmmm nope,” he replies. “Just curious.” Thankfully his extreme chillness counteracts my unsettling feelings. I decide to take more of his approach. He agrees to let me leave a light on for the come-up and we listen to a McKenna lecture to commend the occasion.

When the visuals do start kicking in, they aren’t the torrents of fractals and alien scenery washing over my visual field that I had anticipated. When the chemical actually took hold everything became so peaceful, loving even. It was an absolutely blissful place of being. We turn off the lights for the real trip to start. And for a time, things are intense but nothing like the internet or McKenna had spoken of. It isn’t very long before I succumb to the temptation of music. I know McKenna would have been sorely disappointed. But I always feel I get more out of the trip, visually and psychologically, from the stimulus of music through headphones.

Although psychedelic music is usually my go-to for tripping, this playlist featured songs with lyrics and in the absolute darkness the vocals dominated. My head felt hollow, like a blank skull containing a cosmos of empty space while these melodies flowed through it like musical rivers. It almost felt like an out of body experience. My mind felt as if it were spilling into the outside world. But if my entire conception of reality is projected from my mind there is no “out there”, right? I bow my head, facing downwards and moving with the symphony in my head. I feel ecstatic.

I watch my imagination unfold in front of me. Pitch black darkness arranges some of the most magnificent art I have ever had the privilege of seeing. Twisting colors and designs all swim and spiral, emanating from my mind’s center. My breathing gets heavy while I lie still, captured by the radiance of what I am experiencing. Gratitude to have this moment emerges. Extraordinary visions play out before me as I feel myself falling deep into the inner recesses of my mind. And I start thinking about myself as a person, and how I treat people. I start thinking about the ones closest to me and the experiences we’ve shared. I start thinking about past lovers and ones still left to come. Memories reaching back to childhood enter my stream of thought. I’m walking around a park I would frequent as a child, around 10 years old or so. It’s a nice memory of a pleasant time in my childhood. I’m on the walking trail around a pond with a fountain in the middle. It appears to be spring or summertime. Geese litter the playground nearby and across the pond are basketball courts full of players.

More pieces of my unconscious untangle and I see my life as an overview of all events leading up to this moment. I clearly see baggage I have been carrying from earlier life experiences. My emotions run rampant so I close my eyes, weeping. I start thinking about being warm and vibrant behind a cold and calculated shell. The emotions pour. Every brick in my narcissistic shell crumbles, one by one. Erratically, my mind races to put thoughts together. My ego is dying. I want to reach out and grab somebody. I have a craving for connection, human connection. I come to the conclusion that this is what life is about- that being with others is what gives life meaning.

Face to face with some of my darker aspects, I feel the discharge of pent up emotional energy and let it cascade through me. I want everybody to have this feeling and to have these understandings. There is the feeling that this is what it means to be human; and yet this experience that I’m having is unlawful. A vortex of thought ensues and I lose myself.

1:46 A.M.

It is here I come back to my senses. I have completely lost track of time, of everything. After pausing my music I bask in silent darkness again for a while. It comes to my attention I have forgotten all about Burgundy being here in the room with me. I call his name to see if he will respond. He replies with an eerie, “yes?” that makes me think he has been sitting here in the dark for quite some time now. We discuss that maybe it is time to take a break so we turn on the light and step outside to the front porch. The tree that stands in front of his house is swirling and breathing.

We stand in silence for a minute or two, trying to regroup. We discuss how strong the trip is, but neither of us has any entities trying to visit or any above and beyond crazy visuals. He tells me he had been sitting in silent darkness for a few hours. I tell him how sublime the music was, like floating through wombs of velvet. We take a walk down the neighborhood street to clear our minds, but paranoia soon brings us back to the house. It is the middle of the night, after all. We venture back inside and trip with the lights on for the remainder. My body hurts from all the cathartic purging. Soon those pink streaks in the sky are back to foreshadow the rising sun.

The mushrooms had called me back for good measure: gaining some perspective on some things in my life was beneficial and digesting certain ideas about myself made me feel I left the experience a better person. But the trip was not at all what I expected. I perceived no alien presence and the visuals were not something out of science fiction. I have never felt on any trip that there was some kind of external entity attempting to interact with me. I understood all phenomena to be a release from my unconscious mind. I do not doubt the existence of psychedelic entities, just that they have yet to come for me. Perhaps it wasn’t my time, perhaps the mushrooms had lost potency, or perhaps I need to take more in a future visit.

The trip was still much more intense than 3.5 grams, my usual dosage. It was a highly emotional and cleansing trip. For whatever reason, psychedelic experiences always seem to be a psychoanalytical breakdown for me rather than visits to totally alien realms. To date this has been my last high dosage psychedelic session and will remain that way until the mushrooms are ready to divulge their gnomish nature.

ToddDeVault.com