On being human.
It was 4:30am when the intercom in my dorm room interrupted my sleep: “Maroela is hier! Maroela is hier!” The distressed voice on the intercom was that of our primarius, the chief ranked member of the House Committee of our men’s residence, announcing the arrival of our arch-enemy residence, Maroela.
When I returned home I was struck by the reflection in the mirror. It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. I was able to behold the reflection of this human being without any narratives of what he lacks or what he still needs to achieve. All I saw I was a biological miracle of a human being, staring back at me with bright eyes and an affectionate smile.
It was about 1 or 2 AM. I sat by the fire with my “3-D glasses” and gazed at the Big Bang. A song in the background triggered an image of my dad. Enamored with the present moment, unencumbered by regrets from the past or concerns for the future and suffused with a sense of wonder and empathy, a single thought of my dad was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Tears of appreciation arrived unannounced and decades of unexpressed gratitude disgorged from my nose.
Within 10 minutes of ingesting 5 grams of magic mushrooms my mind was flooded with a kaleidoscope of geometric shapes, more elaborate and resplendent than anything I have ever seen before. Time dissolved and I could no longer comprehend the passage of time except for the music, where songs had a beginning and end.
From faith to skepticism
Pierre shares stories from his spiritual journey.
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