GROUP DMT (with Syrian Rue) TRIP JULY 4th-5th '01
This trip was a culminative experience of The HarleQuintet's wondrous desert journeys in Central Australia, as a part of the Earthdream 2001 convoy. Our adventures leading up to this may be viewed HERE.
As Kestral was about to catch a bus back to
Melbourne, we decided to do our long-postponed desert
4 hour DMT and syrian rue trip on the Wednesday night
(July 4th) instead of the full moon peak and lunar
eclipse on Thursday. The alignment of the sun with Sirius
and start of the 'dog days' on the 4th seemed an apt
enough time.
We trekked out to a beautiful little dell halfway up
a stone ridge, overlooking the valley near the Claypan
Earthdream camp outside Alice Springs. Amordios and
Jess came with us although not partaking, as the
guardians. Evan (Malkuth), Kestral (Yesod) and myself
(Tiphereth) drank the bitter syrian (dog days!) rue
brew then swallowed some DMT 30 mins or so later.
After chanting the chakra tones together and
meditating for some time nothing seemed to be
happening in terms of altered states other than the
usual buzz from chanting and pranic breathing.
Eventually the DMT effect began to gradually
creeeppp in but beyond a few fleeting visuals (Evan
saw jackal-headed pterodactyls!) but after a wonderful
vocal harmonic journey, we still didn't progress into
the full state expected. Rather, the sensations began
to subside again...
This was pretty disappointing, as we had been
abstaining from coffee and various foodstuffs for 24
hours or so before the trip, and were expecting a
major shift.
I realized eventually that I had made a mistake in
not crushing the syrian rue seeds before boiling and
steeping -last time they had already been powdered.
So I began to crush up the seeds for a re-brew, even
adding some more DMT to the mix in case the first lot
was already leaving our systems.
Kestral opted out of this re-brew, feeling that our
systems had already started fighting it, and a bit
queasy still from the first syrian rue (an inhibitor
of the MAO -part of our immune system- to allow the
DMT to activate when ingested rather than smoked).
Considering Evan's subsequent reaction to the second
brew, this was perhaps a wise decision.
Kestral returned to the claypan camp. I drank some
of the new brew (the syrian rue tasted much stronger
this time) and passed it to Evan. He also indulged but
promptly threw up straight after sculling it, which
immediately made him completely sober.
I felt nauseous also but managed to hold it down for
about twenty minutes or so, during which time I began
to trip out about three or four times as much as
previously. This delighted me, as a swirl of strange
visuals and sounds corruscated into/out of my
mindscape. I began to giggle. However I kept feeling
distracted by my urge to vomit. There was a good
mouthful of the re-brew left, which I knew would
activate the urge, and I struggled against an
increasing alienation from the physical plane to drink
it, knowing the DMT had entered my bloodstream so I
could now empty my stomach.
As I proclaimed aloud my intent to quoff the bitter
brew -in an attempt to facilitate the difficult
process- Evan, prostrate by the fire, mumbled
something about not the body's wisdom in rejecting the
stuff. Heedless, I cried, 'Well here's to foolishness
then!' and drank the last of it, plunging over the
cliff as it were...
Predictably, I immediately followed this with three
or four large lurching strides to the edge of the dell
and heaved it and more back up.
However as expected I continued to trip, having kept
most of it down long enough for full assimilation.
What followed for the next hour or so was about half
strength of a full DMT trip. This proved perfect for
the time:
Being 'at the gate' rather than shoved through it
provided a wonderful opportunity for conscious
exploration of the relations between the DMT realms
and normal reality. I found that rather than being on
an out of control carnival ride of intricate
hallucinations of non-euclidian geometry that I could
barely fathom let alone enscapsulate in that thing we
call in this dimension 'memory' as on a full dose; I
could manipulate the space I was in quite readily on
this half dose. With various sonic frequencies I was
able to plunge deeper into the regions of the DMT
realms, then withdraw at will. Most importantly, I was
able to maintain a thread of normal 'observer'
consciousness throughout. Thus I was able to more
readily find keys to unlock those gates later without
ingestion of DMT, especially via sound. My vocal
harmonics had developed intensely over the whole
Earthdream desert journey this year, and now they were
catapulted into new dimensions which I have since
retained.
I also recalled an old song of mine about the Aztec
Goddess Coatlicue, Goddess of a Thousand Serpent
Skirts. This is their rather vital depiction of the
Earth Mother!
So while this trip may not have been as
mind-blowingly out there as expected, it was certainly
more useful!
It was a shame that the group trip planned didn't
fully eventuate, but even on the initial mild dose
some interesting connections and communications went
down, and we still all feel to initiate a further
exploration of these realms later.
Throughout the night Amordios had busily scrawled
notes and sketched diagrams, earthing the gathering's
strange babble and rampant idea-bouncing into a
project idea we had previously briefly discussed for a
large 8-day festival called 'Exodus' in northern NSW
over new year 2001-2002. This project, now being
earthed also into a Ritual Opera in Melbourne, is a complex musico-magickal
device called The Choronzon Machine. Amordios, in his
sub-Malkuthian way, prepared several sketches and
diagrams that night for an actual vehicle for the
festival to house the concept - a mechanical wonder of
cogs and wheels which so happened to look just like
the arrangement of the sephiroth on the Tree of Life,
although he then had little conscious knowledge of the
Tree. What is more, Amordios actually has the
mechanical and practical faculties to actually build
such an elaborate initiatory vehicle.
That morning I also recalled my understanding on my
previous winter solstice 4-hr DMT and syrian rue trip
( http://www.crossroads.wild.net.au/23.htm ) of the
correlation between the 32 forms of Ganesh (as lord of
the categories) and the 32 paths and spheres of the
Tree of Life, 'elephant' being an anagram (almost!) of
'alphabet' (the Hebrew one fitting on the tree). Then
I thought about Aion, my initiator into the Adinath
tradition, who had later helped formulate this concept
about Ganesha. Dadaji, Aion's initiator into the
adinath tradition, later came up in conversation that
strange morning. Imagine my delight then when days
later I discovered it was Guru Purnima, the Hindu day
of celebrating one's mentors, that 5th of July
morning, and that Aion had celebrated the event by
pouring some of Dadaji's ashes on a Ganesha statue
guarding his new Yurt temple!
After my impassioned greeting of the rising Sun upon
return to (relatively) normal reality, Amordios, Evan
and I were on a creative roll well into the daylight
hours, until eventually returning to the claypan.
Kestral had already left for town to catch his bus
that evening. It was another funny subconscious move
that he had booked his bus for that night, as he
occupies the lunar throne of Yesod in the 11-star
working: the moon was to leave the sight of the sun
and the earth (microcosmically, Evan and I myself in
Malkuth and Tiphereth) that night with the full moon
lunar eclipse, visible only from Australia and New
Zealand.
After half a day of rest and sleep, I admitted that I
still had a craving for a more thorough immersion in
the DMT realms, that kind of total wraparound
otherworldly visual scape of wierdness that seems (as
yet) unattainable by other means of gnosis. The
visible lunar eclipse seemed the ideal window for such
a journey, albeit via the more brief and less
preparation-intensive means of smoking rather than
eating DMT.
So Evan, Lauren and myself grabbed some blankets and
candles and headed out to a small cave in the
cliffside not far from the claypan, as the moon's
light began to wane in the shadow of the earth.
An eerie half-light was cast over the beautiful
minimal desert landscape as the moon was eclipsed (not
totally, about three). We were perched at the mouth of
the small cave, able to look in and also up at the
starry sky and shadowed crescent above.
Evan went first and somehow managed to again not get
a full hit. Perhaps only when he leaves the throne of
the physical plane will he be able to go!
We wondered if the DMT and syrian rue were still too
in our system from the night before, but my turn
quickly disqualified that possibility:
Full and complete immersion was immediate and
profound. I was surrounded by mandalas of animated
intricacy and vividness that make LSD experiences look
like a blank piece of paper by contrast. However,
presumably as a resuly of my purposeful working of the
milder dose the night before, I was still able to
maintain a thread of observer consciousness even
through the full intensity of this visit. I stared
carefully at one of the little devices within a
shimmering mandala of vibrant colour and pattern,
looking at its incredible detail of countermovement
within movement with avid wonderment.
Upon return I was afire with inspiration. Chanting
and roaring ecstatically, I heard my cries echo off
the opposite cliffside and through the valley. A few
minutes later, as if in reply, I heard a bunch of
Earthdreamers down in the claypan baying at the
still-partially-eclipsed moon. By this stage I had
leapt up onto the great rocks above the cave and was
prowling about in primal smilodon-form to earth back
into my body.
Lauren also had an intense smoke, her second visit
to the sentient pattern morphing weirdness of DMT, and
returned also joyous with the moon almost back too. We
sat back and watched Her return to round luminous
fullness above, exultant.
CHORONZON's GARDEN Psychotropic Journeys index.
THE CHORONZON MACHINE -Ritual Opera inspired by above journey when it was later realized to be the beginning of Evan's 33.3 recurring birthday party...
MUTATION PARLOUR HOMEPAGE