Visions

By: Mother Nature and Father Time

“You can always pick up your needle and move to another groove.”

Timothy Leary’s mantra floated in the forefront of the cerebrum as He arrived at the steep off-trail creek carving its way through the center of a magnificent granite canyon. The babbling creek fell into pool after deep pool of crystal-clear, ice-cold water. A solitary trout glided slowly along. Unsuspecting dry flies being gobbled as the intruders meandered along the creek.

He was getting distracted, reminiscing of the stunning views of the Great Western Divide, when he suddenly remembered that he had ingested lysergic acid diethylamide thirty minutes previously. As the initial waves of the psychedelic started to intertangle its web of curiosity and ensnare him into its journey; he quietly repeated the mantra hoping to steer his journey. A futile task. 

The trail he had packed in on: Was following the trail symbolic of a repeating wheel? Perhaps picking up the needle meant these mountains, streams, and canyons would break him free of this path that others had tread? Perhaps the needle would move the trajectory of his life stroll? Or maybe the trail simply represented safety from the Bear Dens that so surely hid in the crevices just beyond? His head was spinning. Logic and reason seemed so fleeting. Just as panic seemed so near, an abrupt stop came. Clarity. A sense of enlightenment and connectedness with nature engulfed his surroundings. He was tuned, one, with his cohorts in LSD and psilocybin. 

“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”

As the waves intensified the cohorts climbed high up the granite face on a little used byway. Surely this rut was created by the Gods. Or perhaps the Goats? Certainly not by Humans. The formality of a marked trail faded away as they climbed. They forged their own. Those that had taken the LSD climbed up. Those that had taken psilocybin climbed down into the canyon and to the stream. The factions split but the connectedness remained. Looking down He felt as if He was inside the swirling clouds. The wind moved and passed through him like fingers brushing the face of a child. He looked down and could hear giggles, laughter, and swaying trees from the psilocybin cohorts far below splayed on a rock with their feet dipped into the stream. The laughter and joy echoed through the canyon.

“You can't really be strong until you see a funny side to things.”

Profound things are learned while on LSD. One cohort lined up colorful pieces of sacred snack. As they gathered around the site of sacrament, it was noted that they had the ability to freeze time. They quietly and deftly threw granite stones far into the sky freezing each stone, zooming in, pivoting, and altering the angles. Each stone moved slowly, deliberately. It’s path was clear before its destination was reached. As a granite stone neared the sacred snack sacrament, multiple members concentrated their wavelengths and energy on the stone and changed its trajectory. Mighty forces were at play.

“There is nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept.”

The cohort with the camera paused. Clarity engulfed Him. Wait, was it clarity? It was a tunnel. Clear vision. He set the camera down. The stone was cold. He felt its veins and stepped back. You can document each moment, you can memorialize each thought on paper, but truly living, breathing, sensing, the smell of pine that wafted across the crisp breeze. The present. He paused and calmly looked at the horizon of tangled clouds. To stroll in the present is powerful.

“You go deep enough or far out enough in consciousness and you will bump into the sacred. It’s not something we generate; it’s something out there waiting to be discovered.”

The cohorts converged together as the stream met the canyon. They lay on their backs staring at the heavens as heat emanated from the granite. All fear, paranoia, and reality slowly melted away. Melted? No. Floated away on a whispery geometric cloud. As they lay and conversed the sense of oneness prevailed. Those among them that had questioned their decision: decisions of the trail, decisions of the journey itself, decisions of the ultimate life path: they felt vindicated. The journey was worthwhile. .

Quotes: Timothy Leary, John Muir, Ken Kesey, Ansel Adams, Michael Pollard