satoroca on Nostr: Chapter two. About the first encounter with magic mushrooms microdosing ...

Chapter two.
About the first encounter with magic mushrooms microdosing

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Love at second sight

About five years ago now, working in my tiny workshop, actually outside of it, because I didn't even go inside, I suffered a carpentry “accident”. I say “accident” in quotes because the instant it happened to me I knew I had done it to myself, because I saw all the safety rules I had overlooked and I knew it was going to change my life. I needed that.
With a hand-held circular saw, I wanted to cut a length of green poplar lath. I started the cut and when the saw advanced far enough I grabbed with my right hand (I'm left-handed) the back of the lath, where I had the beginning of the cut. The humidity of the wood itself added to my strength when I grabbed it from behind, closed the cut and the saw jammed. My left hand, even though the saw slowed down, pulled the trigger. And instead of moving forward, the saw went backward, pulling on the closed cut and passed over my right hand. In an instant, my index finger was all fringed and dangling. It was the only thing the saw cut. Right hand, index finger. The paternal masculine side, pointing to direction, purpose, law. I jumped up and ran in circles screaming. I knew that instantly. “You did this to yourself” ”Your life changed forever.” I sat up and passed out for an instant. My dogs were sniffing me. I was alone. I called Anto and she took me to the hospital.

I healed my finger. That's about where it is. It looks like a hook. It is stiff. I wanted nothing to do with repairing it, traumatologists, antibiotics, surgeries. They just put the stitches and it healed. I put propolis on it. It got infected. I learned a lot from watching his healing and his infection.
It turns out that the wound was infected for a long time, part of the tissue turned black and died. I let it be, watched it. Never did the infection leave the finger to my hand. I trusted. One day the infection pushed out a centimeter-long sliver of bone. And there the wound closed.

It closed in the hand, but it did not close in the mind or in the heart. I became quite depressed. For a long time I couldn't go back to work. I rethought the whole way. Why be an unhappy, poor, one-armed carpenter? For what reasons had I walked that way. It was then that I began to meditate a lot, to rebuild my subconscious. It was then that I found healing ideas, Dr. Joe Dispenza's books, Paramahansa Yogananda's prayers, Neville Goddard's books. I saw that the way out of the painful equation was through prayer, meditation, understanding what ideas led me to work that way. Understanding what buried parts of my mind led me to decide to work precariously, to not take care of myself, to have accidents. Because this serious accident was the icing on the cake of several other accidents I had had, less serious ones. I had already lost parts of my fingers, in fact some were still missing and others had grown back like a lizard's tail. From that I also knew it was something like a self flagellation pattern. The question was why?

My dad would always watch me work and tell me of my carelessness. I believed I was beyond pain and the law.
In my subconscious I found pure devaluation of myself and my work. I found that I didn't want to do what I was doing and that I would rather travel and play soccer. Why shouldn't I be able to live doing that? I meditated and prayed. I kept dissolving. I spent about sixty days on that healing plan. My family putting up with me, helping me financially, having infinite patience.

Within the meditative mystical wave, by synchrodestiny, a friend that I had not seen for many years invited me to participate in a group of Deepak Chopra's Abundance. I knew Chopra's books. I joined right away because it was specifically something I needed to work on and had been praying about a lot; my relationship with money.
I actually remember going through the 21-day meditation challenge and that. But going to the actual issue itself, I re-established the bond with my friend. That one of those days of hammock and meditation he sends me a message offering to help me with a move and pay me for it. In my meditative openness, having broken several schemes of pride I thought yes. Why not.

I went to his house and it was not far. He showed me where he lived and what he did. He grew Oyster mushrooms, edible mushrooms that grow on poplar wood. The first thing I said to him was that if anyone was going to grow magic mushrooms then it must be him. I don't know where that line came from but the next thing made me laugh. He took me to his room and showed me inside a big plastic box, a white organic thing full of mushrooms.
I had heard a lot about mushroom trips through Terrence Mckenna, I used to put it on the speaker in the workshop and listen to hours and hours of his talks and lectures. His travel stories were very interesting.
He offered me a try and I automatically said no. I didn't want to add substance to my life. I was already clean of everything. No alcohol, no cannabis. Just yerba mate or coffee.

The mark that cannabis had left in my life had not been good, and I related the effects of cannabis with those of mushrooms, I don't know why. Maybe because the idea that they were “psychoactive”.
We started to move and while we were moving, Huguito appeared.
With Huguito we knew each other from that huachuma ceremony. When Hugui saw the mushrooms he was happy and Luis offered him the same thing he offered me, “Do you want to try?
Hugui didn't even hesitate and pinched a little mushroom so small it fit on the tip of his index finger. It must have been 6 millimeters tall.
Immediately my brain thought it was missing something and inevitably said “Well if it's that small I want to see what it tastes like too.”

I ate an identical mushroom that was right next to the one Huguito had taken.
We continued with the move and carried a batch of things. In one of the comings and goings, I was in the back seat of the van and I could feel myself present. A certain harmony, vital flow, heart-mind coherence. There I was, rejoicing in the moment. So lucid that I was surprised. So present that a smile came from my heart to my face. I didn't even hear what the other two were talking about, if they were talking at all. I was alone back there. Relaxed in the seat letting myself go. I asked: “Hey, could it be that this has had an effect on me?
And laughing they said yes.

Then I looked outside, a summer sunset. The sun was low in the orange, the magical hour. The plants on the side of the road. I saw things that were there but would never have paid attention to their simple beauty if it weren't for the mental rumination gone. The layers of hubris put on like glasses to reality. I saw clearly what was there without judgment or lucubration whether it was good or bad, pretty, ugly, whether he wanted or didn't want it to happen. I loved, so to speak, whatever was happening. And in that vision, seeing the weeds on the side of the road, for the first time I saw them as intelligent living beings and not as part of the scenery of the drama of life. The plants stretched out to receive the sun, which was the last of the afternoon, the most beautiful. They managed to make room for each other and assume a yogic posture. They had body, mind and spirit. They made room for themselves and for each other. Their leaves pointed to the great orange sun and they were efficiently praising it and taking it with every bit they could. They had moved to that hour to do that. It would not have been the same at noon. They were all leaning toward the divine radiation. They had gotten there through a dance.
Wow!
That was there every day of my life for 28 years and I had never seen it. I had other software.

The feeling of peace and harmony continued throughout the day, I had never felt so lucid and connected to what was happening and that night I slept like a baby. Literally. The next morning I woke up remembering how I woke up as a child. Fresh, rested, excited to play and live.
I instantly called Luis and told him I wanted those mushrooms in my life, in whatever form. I told him I wanted to learn from growing and I wanted to buy and give and have and eat and live.
From then on they were present in my life almost without interruption.
Almost.