‘I’ and ‘you’ are but the lattices,
in the niches of a lamp,
through which the One Light shines.
‘I’ and ‘you’ are the veil
between heaven and earth;
lift this veil and you will see
no longer the bonds of sects and creeds.
When ‘I’ and ‘you’ do not exist,
what is mosque, what is synagogue?
What is the Temple of Fire?
– Mahmud Shabistari
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Welcome to this edition of “The Hare’s Tales”.
I’ve assembled this entry around Salvia Divinorum and Salvinorin A having given a talk this past Wednesday night for the Portland Psychedelic Society on the subject of Salvia Divinorum. That Video is included on this entry BTW…
This entries purpose is to flesh out and give information to those who attended and to those who have seen the video online, as well as to all who are interested in the Plant Allies/Poison Path and Salvia Divinorum in particular.
During the later part of the talk I read part of an article which I wrote on my high-end Salvinorin A Bioassays back in the late 1990s. You can find the article below…
There’s also some good poetry (Mahmud Shabistari!!), as well as pertinent music to the Salvinorin A article….
I have long been an advocate for the understanding on our part of the vast realm of the plant allies.
Everything begins and ends in this sacred cycle of the plant and life’s interaction.
I hope you enjoy this entry and please share this out to your friends if you still desire and we will be back soon with more to engage you.
If you have questions about Salvia, or other Plant Allies, I will try my best to answer. Just put it in the comment section!
Bright Blessings,
Gwyllm
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On The Menu:
Salvia Links
Dale Pendell’s Pharmako Poeia
The Magnificent Void – Steve Roach
Salvinorin A Journeys – Gwyllm
Salvia Divinorum Presentation by Gwyllm Llwydd
Poesy – Mahmud Shabistari
Dante’s Prayer – Loreena McKennitt
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Salvia Links:
From 1994
Leander Valdes:The Early History of Salvia divinorum
Sagewisdom… Daniel Seibert’s Site
Salvia Plants For Sale:
Salvia Plants…
More Salvia…
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Dale Pendell’s Pharmako Poeia:
The Poet of Plants. This is a must have book for the budding ethnobotanist/entheogenic researcher/advocate. Wonderful work!
Buy Pharmako Poeia Here!
Excerpt: On Salvia from Pharmako Poeia:
The Ally:
Sometimes the sage whispers, sometimes it shouts.
Sometimes it tells you to sing, sometimes
it takes your voice, walks off, leaving you
rooted, eyeless, and with the kind of voice
a plant has.
The Plant:
Enthusiasm. Entheos.
The plant of the gods, brought within.
La planta de los dioses.
La planta amada de los dioses.
The wise plant, the sage plant,
the plant of the Savioress.
La planta sabia.
La salvia de las adivinas.
La salvia sabia.
We welcome the plant.
La planta que salva.
La Salvadora de los sabios.
We are not different from the plant.
It is we who must save the gods.
It is we who must be diviners.
Somos nosotros que debemos que ser adivinos.
—-
Dale Pendell Quote:
“One does not have to ingest plant substances to communicate with them.
One can use plant substances as purifiers, offerings, in other capacities, and also commune with them in natural settings. This is why it is common to shift state of mind and state of being when spending time in nature. What is unfolding energetically is not always registered by the physical senses. Accessing altered states of consciousness allows one to encounter and interact with the Spirit World and channel these transcendental energies into ordinary reality. Plants can facilitate this process in a conscious individual yet tuning into yourself is also possible. To be truly aware is to commune with everything consciously now.”
Dale’s adroit assessments of the Plant World & our interaction with it helped me to be able to frame my thoughts around this amazingly beautiful subject. He will always be “The Poet of Plants” in my heart and mind.
When You Get A Chance: Los Angeles Times Article On Dale
Dale, I miss the conversations. See you on the other side, in a garden I pray.
G
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The Magnificent Void – Steve Roach
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This is an article of mine on high end Salvinorin A experiences/experiments from the late 1990’s published graciously in the Entheogen Review. Much thanks to those that provided the Salvinorin A, and to Jon Hanna & Associates who published my works on bio-assays.
SALVINORIN A JOURNEYS
~1.00–1.25 mg Salvinorin A.
Ingested with tin foil/straw/ lighter method.
Immediate and strong effects. Mouth quickly
dries, I have never had this experience with salvinorin A before.
The taste is very apparent, and seems to permeate my
whole system. I know I am in for it for sure—I turn off the
light and lie down in bed.
Listening to STEVE ROACH’S “The Magnificent Void.” The
music has strong tidal effect on the direction that the experience
flows towards, and can be seen as an overriding factor
in the early part of the experiment.
There is a subtle interplay within sound structures and I observe
that one of the most telling of conditions for salvinorin
A is sonic. Sounds absolutely shape the experience for good
or for distraction. If the sound structure impedes the flow,
go without it. Nevertheless, a skilled guide could lead one
deeply into trance with the correct vocalizations.
Sinking into revelry, my thoughts take on hues of purple and
blues that border into green. Thoughts appear as a latticework,
discreetly patterned as if they were the finest handworked
lace. Moving forward through the patterns, the loss
of ego deepens but body sensation heightens, so there is no
loss of somatic awareness. Calm, warm detachment—
thoughts flow with incredible beauty and beingness.
Walking through cool undergrowth, pushing through various
plant forms—purple, blue, and green, with myriads of
eyes within leaves. All aware of presence—plant “beings” flow
and merge through shared thought fields and dissolve.
Everything is tidal now—that which is aware, that which perceives
and is perceived—all partaking of the essence of the
eternal now. Joy and subtle pleasure is taken in each thought
that is shared across the vastness of this hall of beings. Faces,
faces everywhere, oscillating into a kaleidoscope of personages
that flow and morph in and out of thought shapes into
mandalic friezes; they dissolve into themselves again, regenerating
over and over until passed through into the singing
light.
Then the universe arches over, redolent with the smell of
plant and animal life, vibrant with beauty and being. Experiences
flow in infinite directions—twisting, turning, with
the patina of consciousness etched into everything with infinite
detail and depth. Everything, every being, held in consummate
beauty; the essence of deity flowing through all simultaneously.
Every thought is transparent and filled with
bliss.
Slowly, across eons of time and bliss, the self reasserts itself
surfacing after an hour and a half, a trailing wisp of the various
thought forms it had been submerged in. Great peace
and warmth pervades the system of being. Sleep slowly rises
up and recaptures the self, again to submerge it into the
salvinorin A flow that moves steadily through the depths of
the soul and subconscious. The night is filled with various
dream shapes. Morning comes as a pleasant surprise.
In hindsight one finds that you can get up out of bed, attend
to any business with high clarity and return into the revelry
of the salvinorin A space by laying down again and turning
inward with the ally. While I have heard about this phenomena
when using the leaves, this contradicts much that I have
read regarding salvinorin A. Maybe at a higher dose immobility
strikes.
Also, as mentioned before, sounds have a big influence on
this experience. There is an interesting side to this: during
the duration of the various experiences there has begun to
be inexplicable knocking going on in our house. I actually
got up to investigate, and walked through the house trying
to find the locus of the noise. It is as if someone or something
is vying for attention. There are other sounds also occurring
that are yet indescribable but reoccur again and
again. This is a phenomenon that no one has reported in my
knowledge, it is as if one was opening up to presences that
surround us which we normally don’t recognize. I am beginning
to feel that they anticipate and are eager for these forays,
for some acknowledgment and communication.
As the familiarity with the territory grows, so does the ways
I can express it. The psychic phenomena is interesting. I realized
that I had been hearing these noises pretty much all
along with the Salvinorin A and occasionally with Salvia Divinorum leaves.
What can this portend? I will be moving up to 1.5 mg next.
I am beginning to get the sensation of mapping out this
realm. For a while I didn’t seem to get much past certain areas,
and now these walls are crumbling. The “psychedelic
nature” of this substance is phenomenally different than any
of the other hosts that I have tried. It is noisy like the
lysergamides, but in a bantering, gabby way instead of issuing
large, almost solemn, profundities. The beginning is almost
always hilarious, shapes, noises, bells, whistles—a veritable
‘toontown of characters jumping out of the woodwork.
Very irreverent! Then it moves on of course, but not before
the entity amuses itself at your expense.
1.25–1.50 mg of Salvinorin A.
Very apparent taste immediately.
Unlike previous salvinorin A experiments, this one
seizes me before I can get the light off and my eyes covered
with blindfold (new addition). My being is quickly hived
into infinite parts, flailing all over the place in what appears
to be a very bizarre 1950s scenario filled with textures, smells,
visuals of that time predominated by a female presence. The
presence bears the most striking resemblance to DONNA REED
or the archetypal “American Mother” and a myriad of other
female expressions of that era. In fact there is infinite variations
on this theme occurring in a fractualizing frenzy. This
manifestation is very loquacious, wagging her finger into my
infinite faces and making cryptically rude remarks! This
strikes me as very hilarious, my whole being lights up with
laughter. This quickly dissipates into another cascade of cartoon-
like thoughts and emerging patterns. There seems to
be very little of the usual cavern/tunnel effect, more of a restless
roving over fields of thought and consciousness.
Feelings shift and change. This experience is incredibly
strong. A mild panic rears its pointed little head in greeting,
and then disappears when I relax more into it and allow the
salvinorin A to take me where it wants. Then the salvinorin
A state takes off at a gallop, it seems to be the most intense
cartoonish psychedelic experience… feelings magnify into
absolute grotesque parodies and psychic pratfalls. Constant,
rapid shifting is going on, too quick to grasp.
The flailing finally dissipates about 15 minutes into the experience
and my thoughts become more focused. It seems
very playful at this time, taunting and teasing me deeper into
its web, yet for some odd reason the loss of self is not so pronounced.
There is a strong twisting sensation to the right,
accompanied by a prickly sensation through my system. I take off
the blindfold as it seems to be sinking deeply into
my skull, my skin is literally swimming in warmth except for
my feet, which are taking on an arctic feeling. I become aware
of my flesh as being an entity unto itself, conscious unto its
own being, holding its own wisdoms and somatic dreams.
Visions of beauty and sensation roll over it. Every cell seems
to have an eye, peering out and at itself replicated into infinity.
Undulating currents of desire wash over it and through
it, a deep hunger for sensation and interplay.
Slowly, the cavern appears, but instead of going into it, it
plays to my being as if it is an audience. Warm ambers,
browns and traces of green predominate Faces appear and
reappear, twisting into wondrous shapes that have sparkling
eyes of red and gold that flick away in an instance.
Over great lengths of time, the self reasserts itself. Feelings
are very relaxed, tensions are gone. No great insights, it was
too rapid for that, but a truly unique experience. As quickly
as it came on, it is slower to leave. After an hour, I move about,
with haloes of color encrusting every object and space
throughout the house. The experience rides on me, I feel it
still coursing through out my being as I head off for sleep. I
am amazed at the gifts this plant’s substance offers up. Of all
the plant entheogens, it is the most playful—almost, should
I say, dryadic in nature? Something profound moves under
her surface humor. A lustrous joy and knowledge is revealing
itself as I venture further in her company.
~ 1.5 mg–1.75 mg Salvinorin A.
Slight feeling of trepidation.
This is a hallmark feeling for me, carrying meanings and
thought that are complex, redundant of fear and discovery.
Fear, as the dose level is working upward, discovery as something
is about to be revealed. Music playing, LOREENA
MCKENNITT’S “Dantes’ Prayer,” just so appropriate at this
nexus… Ingested the salvinorin A with slight modification,
used a straw that was longer this time, about 3.5 inches instead
of 2 inches. Sitting on the edge of the bed, watching
the crystals melt and the salvinorin A slithers up the straw—
even before I can taste it, everything slowwwsss down. This
is strange, stronger than before, it has grabbed me before I
am ready. Why am I so surprised? I reach over to turn the
light off and my hand stretches like rubber. Warmth envelops
me in a crescendo of light-blue and cream streams of luminous
ribbon of light. After what seems a decade, my head
feels the pillow reaching up and taking it gently.
As my head settles down, the top part divides and hives, again
and again, it is hydra-like, whipping back and forth in a gale
force wind of consciousness, until it is medusa-like, every part
of the head now snake-like, writhing with faster and faster
force. Everything is cream and light-blue, cartoonish and gibberish
as each head sends back images and sensations into
the central part of the being. It is a form of collective consciousness;
I’m aware of myself and the room with my love
lying beside me. At the same time it’s a maelstrom—a hydra,
a thousand upon thousand headed serpent-being under a
huge dome of sky, writhing in an ever quickening and slowing
dance on a plane that stretches into infinity.
The music calls out, a familiarity to hold to. I wanted to let
entirely go but it calls with such infinite sadness. My love’s
breathing echoes and resounds, voluminous and full of
beauty. Pinioned between these two sonic anchors, the serpent
heads slowly morph into each other until singularity
occurs. Then, for a moment—utter peace. All of a sudden,
an entity rockets into consciousness from behind, pulling all
along with it and into it from the right side as it streaks past.
All thoughts and self runs into it like mercury pooling, silvery
and voluptuous with movement. Beingness flowed out
as the observer self watched with detachment… This being
that has appeared takes on the appearance of a man in
middle-age, bent on going somewhere quick. Had the beingness
that moments before been hydra-like now attached to
an astral traveler passing through a shared zone, a place
where all of this plays out? Then, as quickly as it had come,
the being looks back into me with deep detachment and departs,
streaking away leaving trails of our shared momentary
consciousness bubbling, to coalesce into moving pools
of light.
The mind moves from thought to thought, like a sailing craft
on a sea, tacking back and forth, into whirlpools and out
again. All flows with such ease and warmth, in and out of
different beings and states of consciousness. The universe is
liquid and malleable, all life flows with a harmonious ringing—
how would it be best expressed? A sloshing sound? Liquid
sounds take form everywhere and whip and pull consciousness
into pools and depths, blending away personality
and recreating beingness into myriad creatures and situations
all going on simultaneously. All moves and reshapes
into new and unique beings, momentary expressions of life
form for beauty’s sake and then submerge back into the
oceans of consciousness. Evolution is played out over and
over—not as predator and prey, but as co-players in a dance
of delight and shared mutual joy and recognition.
Awareness flickers off and on, beingness strobes on and off.
Day into night, into infinite play and dance. Consciousness
winks out, then refocuses back over and over. Within the
strobing, the salvinorin A exposing itself as it opens up and I
see within it a flow, a river of Salvia-consciousness, and how
it has established a strata within my being that is now ever present.
It is a flowing universe, river and sky-like, both liquid
and cloud. As if I’ve opened up a trap door, just below
everyday thoughts. Ever-present, exalting consciousness:
teaching, playing and guiding. It is a love that flows into my
being whether I allow it to or not. Her face is revealed, glowing,
entrancing, singular.
I cannot recall how it all ended. I drifted into sleep during
the night, but as I write this now today I feel the flow still. I
think it has always been a part of me. Now I know that entheogenic
flow we all become aware of—it has been with me
most of my life. But this has distinct elements of something
new. A different creature all together. It is present in the trees,
in the land, in the sky, but also as part of shared awareness.
It envelops and comes whispering up through consciousness
like smoke. An is-ness, ever-present, an Acadian stream, behind
thought seen in faces, shared since the beginning. It is
the river within the soul—intertwined with all thought, conscious,
loving and completely enveloping. A capricious being,
who is only too happy to come along with you—as the
guide, as a light, as the teacher to creatures of thought and
desire. — GWYLLM
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Salvia Divinorum Presentation by Gwyllm Llwydd
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Poesy – Mahmud Shabistari
Go sweep out the chamber of your heart.
Make it ready to be the dwelling place of the Beloved.
When you depart out,
He will enter it.
In you,
void of yourself,
will He display His beauties.
The tavern-haunter wanders alone in a desolate place,
seeing the whole world as a mirage.
The tavern-haunter is a seeker of Unity,
a soul freed from the shackles of himself.
Through the chamber of the heart is small,
it’s large enough for the Lord of both worlds
to gladly make His home there.
—
Intoxication
What is pure wine?
It is self-purification.
What sweetness! what intoxication! what blissful ecstasy!
Oh! happy moment when ourselves we quit,
When fallen in the dust, drunken and amazed,
In utter poverty we shall be rich and free.
Of what use then will be paradise and houris?
For no alien can find entrance to that mystic room.
I know not what will happen after
I have seen this vision and imbibed this cup,
But after all intoxication comes headache,
Anguish drowns my soul remembering this!
—
THE tavern is the abode of lovers,
The place where the bird of the soul nests,
The rest-house that has no existence
In a world that has no form.
The tavern-haunter is desolate in a lonely desert,
Where he sees the world as a mirage.
The desert is limitless and endless,
For no man has seen its beginning or ending.
Though you feverishly wander for a hundred years
You will be always alone.
For the dwellers there are headless and footless,
Neither the faithful nor infidels,
They have renounced both good and evil,
And have cast away name and fame,
From drinking the cup of selflessness;
Without lips or mouth,
And are beyond traditions, visions, and states,
Beyond dreaming of secret rooms, of lights and miracles.
They are lying drunken through the smell of the wine-dregs,
And have given as ransom
Pilgrim’s staff and cruse,
Dentifrice and rosary.
Sometimes rising to the world of bliss,
With necks exalted as racers,
Or with blackened faces turned to the wall,
Sometimes with reddened faces tied to the stake.
Now in the mystic dance of joy in the Beloved,
Losing head and foot like the revolving heavens.
In every strain which they hear from the minstrel
Comes to them rapture from the unseen world.
For within the mere words and sounds
Of the mystic song
Lies a precious mystery.
From drinking one cup of the pure wine,
From sweeping the dust of dung-hills from their souls,
From grasping the skirts of drunkards,
They have become Sūfīs.
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Dante’s Prayer – Loreena McKennitt
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