At 18, probably like most, I was a fabulous mess.
Probably unlike most, though, my guidance counselor from middle school and I used to hang out. He was an old hippy who'd gone to Standford in the sixties. He would read tarot cards, and I would pretend to be really deep and spiritual and angsty. Le sigh....
Anyways, towards the end of high school my former guidance counselor started telling me about how he'd been going to shamanic ceremonies in Hawaii, and drinking this tea called Ayahuasca that healed you and stuff. He also told me how the shaman was a shapeshifter, and whistled during the ceremony. So of course, I wanted to try it - having no idea of course that ayahuasca is a psychotropic.
The shaman was having another ceremony in southern Oregon soon, and I decided to go with monsieur former guidance counselor. There was a special diet beforehand, and a few older spiritual-type people about, and me, some young, dumb kid who really had no idea what was about to happen. And like an atomic bomb to my consciousness, the ceremony began.
Needless to say, I was totally unprepared: I saw visions of angels incorporating with humans, watched this shaman shift into a wolf and stick his tongue out at me, and a whole universe of beautiful, f*cked up, greatness. I purged darkness and sorrow, saw cool googly eyed alien type things, and had a profound, grand ole time.
I had needed the experience in a way I hadn't even anticipated and didn't understand for quite awhile; the experience showed me unequivocally that there was something, some deeper reality, other than myself.
