It was one of those very few times when some plans actually work out, mostly because it was not really a plan to begin with, just organisation or the undying possibility that this was meant to happen.
When it kicked in, a shockwave of spasms ran through my face, all the way across from the top of my left eye, down to my lower lip. As I looked up, I saw the familiarity, all the faces, these walls, these emotions, this oneness, and I knew nothing. Zero.
The world of Now. I had a brain full of questions, misconnections, no memory of anything at all and a massive dose of high-powered LSD.
We were walking through the forest, and it was definitely 1 am — it could have been more but in this universe, time doesn’t exist. Every single vibration made by existence around me was literally being sucked into my ears. All four of us walked on knowing that our lodge was probably not far off, but this intense feeling of being lost was always trying to fight its way to the top, and the paranoia of it was overwhelming — I presumed it was just me. Then someone yelled, “We’re f**kin lost man!” — “I swear we have passed this way five times in the last 10 minutes”.
Everyone stopped. Silence. Again everyone started walking and about 200 metres away, I saw the light from the guesthouse.
As I ran towards the guesthouse, someone, I think, said this isn’t the right place. But I ignored that, went ahead and unlocked the rooms, and then decided to get comfortable. Soon, I felt the need for high-volume music, even as the pounding in my chest increased decibel by decibel. My heart, I felt, was going faster than ever before. I ran out and saw my friends standing in shock. I felt scared myself and needed to calm down. The massive confusion I was living out needed to stop.
I ran up to the terrace and stared at the bright moon spread across the sky. Suddenly, all the confusion was gone. An overwhelming sense of calm covered me, the calmness of the Universe swept under my feet. Staring at the white blot in the sky with billions of giant balls of gas burning the night cover, I felt completely insignificant but majestically powerful at the same time.
I came back down and walked into a strange room with people in it, people I have never met. The walls were breaking down at such high speeds, reality was being redefined each instant. Change really was the only constant. There was music in the room, no conversation.
Soon, it seemed that life was repeating itself in front of me, and reality was ripping itself apart, calling on to me, as if to show me something new. Time ceased to exist, and it was all just one moment. Everything that had happened in the past or would have happened in the future, was happening at that one moment.
My beating heart was all I believed in; nothing but the sound and flush of blood to my brain to keep it oxidised was real. There was no such thing as death. I sat, consumed by that moment of now, and right when I thought my heart would burst open, I felt it go even faster, almost in sync with the music. We are all capable of questioning and understanding but why must we need this extra little tool to find meaning in everything?
After that experience, I have more questions than the millions I had before. And I have this sad feeling that the truth might never be told. We’re all observers, dreaming this dream together in our separate capsules of feel and neurons.
One. This is your moment.