The Only Way to Stop Falling is to Let Go
What plant medicine taught me about the paradox of being held
TW: This story includes elements of psychedelic plant medicine use.
I was falling, from where and to where I don’t know, but it was terrifying.
If I was standing, I was being sucked into a vortex, and only a change in focus could snap me out of the vacuum. If I sat down and closed my eyes, I felt like the man in the photo above, careening into an uncertain void.
My guide would gently notice my body jolt awake to halt the fall and gently talk to me to calm my mind.
I felt as if I could sleep — should sleep — but closing my eyes was anything but the relaxed bliss of a promising restful sleep. This was no reverie, no hypnagogic daydream.
This was my experience with plant medicine.
The Incredible Edible
I don’t smoke, I rarely drink and when I do it’s one or two beers or a glass of red wine, sometimes a fruity cocktail. Mary Jane and friends never called to me either. I had tried it once or twice and the dry mouth nullified any chill I might get from an inhale or two.
Having studied shamanism for years, however, opened me to the spiritual healing powers in plant medicine. Since a trip to Peru for ayahuasca was unlikely, I settled for something local.
Enter the infamous brownie.
It wasn’t store-bought. It was homemade and I knew exactly what was in it, EXCEPT for the quantity of THC*. Under the supervision of my trusted guide, I had a quarter of a three-by-three-inch brownie square. I wasn’t feeling much after about twenty minutes so I went back for another quarter.
Little did I know that in another few minutes, I was about to embark on the ride of my life.
Hyper-Sensitive
There are all kinds of “distractions” on TV that people gravitate to when high. I don’t know that I would classify what I went to as “high” although it’s not wrong, but I do know that I wanted nothing to do with anything on television. Everything seemed so violent.
Music wasn’t doing it either. A lyric could hit me the wrong way, or a dissonant chord could affect my body like having a reflex tested with a hammer and hitting a nerve.
My guide suggested we go outside. There is something about nature when you’re in a healing state induced by plant medicine. But if there is work to be done — to heal — it doesn’t promise to be a walk in the park.
Swallowed Up
My guide gently walked me down the stairs and out into the yard on a lovely ten-acre wooded property, with plenty of porch cats and a flock of chickens.
The colors were so vibrant. Everything was alive.
That sounds dumb and redundant, but it can be difficult to comprehend unless you’ve experienced the heightened sensations in this kind of altered state of consciousness.
In the face of the ineffable, words fail.
As my guide and I walked around, if I stopped and stared at the ground, I felt as if I could be absorbed by the earth. This was that vortex I mentioned earlier and it wasn’t comfortable to give in to in the moment. Instead, it induced a bit of panic.
As soon as I looked up, through the swaying tree branches, to the expanse of sky, it was as if my world opened up again. It was magnificent!
If I began to walk again, inevitably I would look down again, thinking that would help steady my gait. I teetered between the vortex below and the expanse above.
From Falling to Being Held
Following the nature walk, I was ready to sit down inside, choosing a recliner that I could sink into. To say sinking is an understatement. This is where I began to feel as if I was falling, falling, falling — and I didn’t have Alice’s presence of mind as she fell into Wonderland to marvel at everything.
Here I was, quite secure in a comfortable recliner, and I was anything but comfortable.
My guide, noticing my distress, gently and patiently suggested that I simply let go. My mind immediately fought the absurdity of this suggestion, but I attempted to give it a go.
Whatever I did, I can only say that I allowed myself to be held, by something greater than myself. It wasn’t the recliner; it was Love.
As soon as I relaxed and let go, I was held. Like a newborn kitten or a sleeping baby, heavy in your hands, completely trusting and slack.
Reflections on the Journey
This experience was years ago, but I keep it with me when I try to hold on a little too tightly.
We are bombarded by articles that encourage us to practice self-care, with myriad suggestions on how to do this. What I find lacking in many of these is the deep practice of letting go. It can’t be taught but it can be learned.
Letting go is the only way to be truly held, and this includes not only being held by an all-knowing and loving wisdom and being held by each other.
My dose was what they call a heroic dose, one that exceeds what you might get from a medical-use gummy. That being said, everyone’s reactions to substances like this will be unique. I don’t know that I would ever choose to do this again, because it was terrifying, but in facing the terror it was absolutely cathartic.
My journey also included quite a bit of sobbing and vulnerability, and also vomiting. The purging wasn’t attractive but it was what I needed.
I don’t advocate for or against the use of plant medicine for anyone. I believe it’s a personal decision, and legality aside, it can be used in a very sacred way that transcends the abuses common in society today.
I also believe there are ways of entering altered states of consciousness for healing that do not require the use of regulated substances. Various forms of meditation, sound therapy, sensory deprivation tanks, and shamanic journeys are all very viable ways of exploring the healing that awaits us.
Still, I find it disconcerting all the ways our governments want to limit our freedom to explore our consciousness. Renewed studies in psychedelics promise amazing healing benefits from schizophrenia to drug addiction and more.
Runa Heilung is an Old Soul Alchemist, mystic, and dream archaeologist. She works with dreams, oracles, and the imagination to help people rediscover their Inner Wisdom.