So 2018 had begun, and a switch flipped in my mind; even if I don’t fit into the spiritual community, I will do the things I have wanted to do, alone.
There was so much to do in Cape Town, but I hadn’t really taken advantage. A resentment of myself emerged. I had explored bits here and there, but nothing like I would have liked.
No more.
I was sick of being a hermit; on weekends, I was now out and away. I would often wake up early, attend a yoga class, and then go for a walk around the SeaPoint promenade. I loved the vibe; the mountain view, the weather, the seagulls, and of course, the invigorating ocean spray and smell. I frequently walked this 6-kilometre stretch from top to bottom, often barefoot. I explored every section, every beach, every nook and cranny.
My favourite spot was Queen’s Beach on the backside of the promenade towards Bantry Bay. I would meditate, draw, read, write, do yoga, or just sit and stare at the waves. I would be there for hours on end; it was a smaller and quieter beach, so peace came easily.
Soon, the sun was high in the sky, and I made my return home to smoke, meditate and read more. I began learning more and more about the field I can create around myself. Every meditation was a practice session. I listened intently to the environment around me and began to understand how one deeply affects others. I started to pick up the cues; as I’ve said before, the crows would always come around, appliances would switch off and on, and my neighbours around me seemed to liven up.
If the sunset was at 7, I was there at 5 and stayed till 10. My favourite sunset spots were either back on the SeaPoint Promenade or Blouberg Beach. The Promenade was more convenient and a bit more vibey, but Blouberg offered a much greater view of the sky. Astronomy came easily to me, and I could soon detail the movements of almost anything in the night sky.
Always high and always alone.
I spent a lot of my free time at the ocean, and half lived in my car because of it, keeping everything in there from books to food to extra clothes.
Shell hunting became my hobby, and I spent hours with my head stooped down. I was once walking the shallows at Mouille Point and turned over what I thought was an old rock, but turned out to be a large, ancient abalone shell. A beautiful gift from the universe, which sits by my desk to this day.
My friend, whom I met at the ayahuasca retreat, started supplying me with magic mushrooms. I was very keen to experiment with this sacred medicine as I had seen the incredible advancements in psychedelics with PTSD and anxiety. So I was eager to try.
My first “Hero’s Dose” solo experience with 5 grams was intense. I took them in the early afternoon and was transported away to a time when I had the same flirty yet untouchable character, but as a Victorian-era woman. The location of this “trip” was an evening party on a large piece of land, with hay bales strewn across a field. I had brief flashes of the party, but to my horror, the trip took a dark turn, and I found myself being raped in the field with the party still audible behind me.
Fortunately, the rape wasn’t graphic, but the feelings were horrifically intense; absolute helplessness. I can vividly remember his hand clasped around my bruised right ankle, dragging my bloody corpse behind a haybale, and him telling me that I am not so pretty now before calmly walking away.
And then, unlike any other trip I have ever experienced, I suddenly snapped out of it and was left dead sober and alone in my apartment. The entire 5-gram experience lasted less than an hour. I immediately collapsed and began viciously crying.
I then made the mistake of phoning my mom.
I had just experienced a rape, and had no one to turn to. I stupidly began explaining to her, as best I could (leaving out the 5-grams), what had happened, only to realise halfway through that I am just freaking her out, which, I mean, everything considered, is fair.
The duality struck me hard – cursed with the gift of knowledge.
Unable to explain, without sending everyone around you into a panic.
This journey is yours and yours alone.
I’ll never be able to prove it, but it was a past-life memory. The feelings of being manhandled and helpless were so intense that they reached deep into my soul. I realised something: the feeling of vulnerability was not just from this lifetime; it was deeply ingrained in me. I just had to remember it. I knew I had to change; it was a clear sign, but I didn’t see it until years later, when I started practising martial arts.
I started eating more and gained some healthy weight; the sores disappeared, and I began to reclaim some normality. My eyes soon turned to Table Mountain. I had hiked it once before, but never alone. I made my decision.
I decided to climb Table Mountain barefoot, while on magic mushrooms. It was a 6-hour round trip, with 3 hours up and 3 hours down. I never ingested a massive amount of mushrooms, but I took enough so that I could feel the energy around me. People along the way all commented on my lack of shoes; I didn’t care. I barely felt anything. My feet wanted this.
It wasn’t a challenging hike – just long, and I remember finding a large, ancient tree at the summit. It felt significant to me in a way I can’t explain. A marker in my life. I soon found an awesome stick that I took home to decorate.
I remember vividly the next few days after that hike. I was so grounded. When I meditated, everything just fell away; all thoughts were completely clear. I could clear my mind rapidly and maintain exceptional levels of focus. All of this I experienced while feeling like I was a great tree, deeply rooted in the ground.
Ive walked for hours barefoot on the grass, but I’ve never experienced grounding such as this.
A new truth took root in me.
Only once you have lost your mind, can you begin to learn like a child
I was now well-versed in the esoteric, symbology, the stars, geometry, and I had begun my experiments into altered states of consciousness.
I never knew it, but something big was coming
A door was about to open for me, and soon I would be tested
Queens Beach, Sea Point
Michael's musings 