The appearance of the wasp
My first experience with a heroic dose of magic mushrooms takes place on a sunny summer day somewhere in the Netherlands. On the one hand, I feel safe in this professional, ceremonial setting, but otherwise, I’m a bit nervous about what it will bring. A wasp irritates me during my mental preparation and while I’m spooning my bowl of soup. I’ve been terrified of this insect ever since I nearly bit into a piece of cake with a wasp on it as a child, which, according to some, could have killed me. She falls into my bowl. I’m in a mild mood and rescue her with my spoon, and she flies away. After we’ve been traveling for a while, a ceremonial guide notices a wasp clinging to me, its stinger still in my arm. I felt intense pain at a certain moment but assumed this was part of the experience.
I am the wasp
I’m starting to panic a bit. I came here to have a profound adventure, and that wasp, or one of her sisters, tries to destabilize me all day. And they seem to be succeeding. Why did I rescue her? The ceremonial guide calmly asks me a question I wasn’t expecting at all: “What did the wasp tell you?” Without hesitation, I answer with utmost conviction: “I am the wasp.” The true meaning of this statement has slowly revealed itself to me since I uttered that phrase. I’m as hard-working as a wasp. I’m as caring as a wasp. Sometimes I act smaller than necessary. And most importantly, I sting if you come too close to me without permission. Since that day, I react much more neutrally to wasps, and they’ve also become much friendlier to me. Sometimes they come to rest on my arm.
Nobody ever figures out what life is all about, and it doesn't matter. Explore the world. Nearly everything is really interesting if you go into it deeply enough
— Richard Feynman
The soap opera of the wasp
I can best summarize this first trip as the fast-forwarded movie of my life, which is said to be played out at the moment of death. I depart on a ship, and my ancestors on the dock wave me goodbye and good luck. I sail from port to port, each leg a piece of this life, synchronized with the music fragments that accompanies the ceremony. My life like a soap opera. I arrive at a castle where I invite everyone I know to celebrate this life, but to my surprise, not a single guest arrives. I may hold the key to this life, but I let no one in; my castle has no windows or doors. Only two loyalists manage to force their way into my celebration.
The evaporation of the wasp
I am very impressed by this first journey, but my second one is even from a completely other category. It happens at the very moment a total lunar eclipse is taking place on the other side of the world, I hear later. How is it possible that I, who has spent a large part of my life studying the universe, choose this moment? And “choose” is the right word; I feel I need to be back here. First my body, then my mind, and finally my ego are dismantled, pulverized, and shattered. I become the music. What a fantastic synesthesia! Ultimately, nothing remains of the old me but a minuscule bit of energy flung into the universe with brutal force. You can’t get any closer to a near-death experience.
If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things through narrow chinks of his cavern
— William Blake
The wasp is chosen
Voices that I cannot describe other than gods greet me and tell me I’m chosen. After on era that feels as seconds as well as ten thousand years at the same time I experience rebirth but not before they assign me a difficult mission for this new life, connected with my tense relationship with my father. I didn’t know anything was wrong with that family bond. That evening, I sit dejected and utterly confused. I have no idea how to handle this. A fellow traveler recommends the book “It Didn’t Start With You.” The following Monday, I abruptly quit my job after being in the mental incapacity to open my laptop.
The clairaudient wasp
During both trips, when I am near the furthest possible point, I hear a plaintive, undulating background noise. A proverbial penny drops when during my Kundalini Yoga Teacher Training the head teacher explains the “Naad“. It is a pervasive reverberation of the creation of the universe that advanced yogis might hear. The description of it matches my travel experiences exactly. I didn’t realize yoga and psychedelics are so closely related. One of the reasons I say that, during that training, this whole life falls into place like a puzzle.
So fuck my ideal self, I am already the perfect teacher, how boring or weird my desires may be, I trust my self unconditionally
— Joris Vincken
The wasp travels again
My experiences with psylocibine have given me valuable insights into death, which on the one hand makes me look forward to that future moment with a certain longing, but on the other hand, I haven’t finished learning in this life. And that’s why I’m embarking on a third journey. I feel the mushrooms won’t be able to teach me anything more, so I book a trip guided by plant medicines in four stages. During the first stage I am confronted with a phenomenal “what if…” question that I didn’t see coming and that I can’t repeat here. During the next stage, I meet my secret pitch dark side where even light not dares to stay. Plant medicines are apparently much more direct than mushrooms and certainly give you a second kick in the teeth if necessary. I am really surprised how well I can communicate with those plant spirits.
The metamorphosis of the wasp
The next day starts very cautiously and leisurely, but after a while the plant extract put me into a trance where I feel an inhuman amount of fiery energy within me. Later on, during an exchange session, someone will call it dragon energy. Anyway, I practice all evening and night, learning to control its power and transforming the darkness of the first day into radiant light, making good use of the elements of water and air. I also receive a re-exam of the mission of my last mushroom retreat. This is the most powerful teacher I ever met. Deep respect. I now dare to look at myself in the mirror and smile. Games over. A few weeks later, I initiate my divorce. And that wasn’t even part of the mission. I certainly return for a new challenge.
The wasp has become prudent
I’m cautious about sharing more details about these experiences. People sometimes react they don’t understand that I take this seriously, let alone make important life decisions based on it. I used to reply that they should try it for themselves before judging. I believed that everyone should have at least one such experience before dying. Since my last trip, I realize more clearly that participation is only meaningful for those who are willing to open the trash can of the subconscious, relinquish all control, and courageously observe your darkest recesses and take the actions that flow from them. Don’t try this if you don’t want any change in your life. These experiences are just as real to me as you are reading this text, probably even more the truth.
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