So Willow how did the missus like DMT?
Was it you that was saying she had never done it before and you felt it was time to introduce it to her?
Or maybe that was Xork about some other compound...
Possibly me... my wife has only had one psychedelic experience, which was... shit, it might have been last Fall. Yeah, it was, early or mid October. We had been discussing it (after many years of it being sort of a weird thing between us), and one day, in the mid-afternoon of a gorgeous day, she told me that she all of a sudden, in the bathroom, became aware of a large gathering of forest spirits outside the window, and the thought entered her mind that it was time to smoke the DMT right then. Shocked and intrigued, I prepared it and we set up a place outside on the back porch to sit, elevated, facing the trees and opposite mountain ridge. 10mg DMT was smoked by each of us. It was a low dose but one of my most eventful DMT trips, because it wasn't such an intense rush*... first I started hearing
everything, like suddenly I had attained incredibly acute hearing. And I couldn't help but notice that every single sound, every last chirp of a tree frog and buzz of a bee or wasp was combining together in this rhythm of incredible complexity. I began to hear high-pitched wood flutes, and deep, subsonic thrums, coming from the trees, that I could feel more than hear. I looked up at the multicolored splendor of the trees, and every last detail on them became crisp, the colors beginning to glow, their leaves waving, moving with the pulsating rhythm of the forest, the sound of their individual impacts with each other, millions of them, producing one of the layers of the amazing symphony that was always there but that normally I only hear a small part of.
As moments passed, I kept discovering more and more layers of new sounds from the forest, from a car driving up my street, from dogs' barks echoing into our cove from miles around. I started to feel drawn into this rhythm, feeling it with every part of my senses and beginning to forget anything else. But then I felt the light dose of DMT end its peak and start to drift down, and the symphony's complexity began to lower, and the electric feeling of
something's about to happen began to dissipate from the air. The world was still amazingly bright though. I walked over to the forest floor and looked down in fascination at the large ground spiders and ants and leaves and a million little tiny things. The entire ground was alive. I felt wonderful, glowing and filled with childlike glee. I found myself next to my wife who was also looking around and felt good, and she had had a different sort of experience, with her eyes closed (mine had been open the whole time), involving mental scenes and stories, primarily involving a certain powerful mountain in California that she's very familiar with, and native Americans.
She loved the experience but isn't sure when or if she'll trip again. I think that if we ate mushrooms outside during a beautiful day in the forest like that, it would be a tremendous experience. I feel a little like she doesn't quite understand that such a low dose of DMT is not going to in any way compare to a breakthrough experience on a full-on psychedelic. She understands that a breakthrough experience is fundamentally different from one where you don't experience ego dissolution, but you can't really fully grasp that until it happens (and not really even then afterwards), and I feel like having a low dose of DMT, perhaps the most psychedelic psychedelic, makes her feel like maybe she doesn't need to go all the way there. So I'm just doing what I've always done and letting it happen in its own time. I've always thought that her mind would really derive a lot from and would really appreciate the psychedelic experience, and that she'd really treasure that sort of experience. I still think so, and I think that whenever a time comes that's right, she'll feel the same way and want to do it.
*(I haven't been able to break through on smoked DMT because this racing pattern of uncontrollable tangent-thoughts prevents me from crossing a barrier or maybe a vast, rushing flow which, when approached, starts triggering really rapid and complicated mental glossolalia... literally an endless, super-fast string of words that have little or no relation to one another, too fast to take it all in. And it feels like this reflexive instinct preventing me from letting go. I think what I really need to do is smoke a full dose of DMT outside during the day with my eyes open, and allow myself to be peacefully absorbed by the rhythm of the forest.)
ayyyyyyyyyyy over heaaa
wht's goin on over heaaa
I just dosed some 2C-B over heaa
How you guises doin' over heaa
Pretty good man.

I wish I had some DOC though.
Shit, this is a classic high post. I intended on just replying briefly, and it ended up rambling on and took me about a half hour.

I'm glad I wrote something about that experience though... I hadn't ever for some reason.