Psychedelia, p.96
Psychedelia, page 96
Nevertheless, a number of Western psychedelicists, including Jeremy Narby and Michael Harner, have come to view the native perception as being more accurate than the biochemical lab perspective. Noted underground researchers Gracie & Zarkov made a similarly open-minded concession when they reported a session with Syrian Rue as a conversation with a friendly, knowledgeable 'Indo-European plant teacher'. Others researchers have voiced marked skepticism or lack of interest, while the plant teacher notion has gained some headway in American New Age circles, where concepts like tribal totems and power animals have already been imported from anthropology. There is no need to linger on this specific issue here, because it is of a lower order than the fundamental dichotomy of (A) or (B) described above. The 'plant teacher', if he exists, is simply a part of the operative drug agent. In the same manner, the sometimes heard description of DMT as a new kind of 'technology' rather than a drug, does not change the fundamental matter.
The most relevant input for anyone looking into these vast, metaphysical questions are the theories already extant within the field of Psychedelia. It is vital to remember that while these questions are millennia old, the role of the tryptamine drugs is a recent expansion. One of the earliest and simplest psychedelic models is the reducing valve theory which Aldous Huxley presented, probably inspired by William James, and which was later picked up by Stanislav Grof. While intuitively sound it is in fact a highly incomplete theory, which fails to say anything about the origins or intent of the overflowing perceptual data made available under psychedelics. Although he held a mystic-shaped belief of Eastern shades, Huxley rarely referred to either the soteriological potential nor the causal aspects of visionary experience, but preferred instead to discuss its cultural manifestations and socio-cultural implications. In a 1956 dialogue with Gerald Heard he empha- tically restated his intrapsychic view: 'Now, we have to discuss what is the nature of this other world... The parallels are so close between these traditional accounts [of heaven, paradise etc] and the accounts given by those who have taken peyote or mescaline or lysergic acid that there can be no doubt that the other world is permanently lodged inside our skulls'.13
Like Huxley, Albert Hofmann felt that LSD primarily altered the cognitive abilities from a receiver standpoint. His sender-receiver model of The Psychedelic Experience treats the phenomeno- logical changes of the trip state as originating primarily in each subject's mind. However, again like Huxley, Hofmann retains a belief in a metaphysical end-state of unio mystica as a potential apex of the journey. Both men are cautious not to draw too bold arrows between the psychedelic state and the highest visionary-religious experiences, and for that reason their models become somewhat disjointed. In the late 1960s, Stanislav Grof expanded the Huxleyan reducing valve theory based on numerous LSD trip reports from his early research, and came up with a model which he himself felt was close to the 'perennial philosophy' which describes a common cosmology underlying all religious systems. As shown above, the perennial philosophy does not offer a very good explanatory value for the more radical Innerspace journeys, particularly those under DMT, Psilocybin and ayahuasca. Its best fit is offered by LSD and mescaline, which dominated both the first and second phase of modern Psychedelia.
In the early 1970s Grof presented a yet more expanded version of his theory, in which he described consciousness as gradually emanating from a non-dualistic universal mind; the metaphor he uses is the human mind as a single snowflake formed out of evaporated water from the universe of the ocean, whose presence the 'snowflake' continues to feel and to which it seeks to return.14 This is basically a Hindu atman-brahman model which is not uncommon among psychedelicists, most of all on LSD. In the early '60s Alan Watts found to his surprise that his cosmic LSD ideation went in Hindu directions, before the acid ultimately brought forth a Zen-like capitulation before all metaphysical brooding and the encouragement of purposeless play instead. Grof's full model includes a number of leveled emanations (tidewater pools, droplets from waves, etc) which gives it an interesting Neoplatonic flavor. In addition to its apparent support in Grof's patient histories, his universal mind model is self-consistent and well-adapted to classic metaphysics, although the poetic metaphor gives a feeling of an overly designed theory, rather than simply inferred. The universal mind is a (B) type hypothesis as it posits a brahman type omnipresent totality external to the individual 'snowflake' consciousness. The snowflake retains a memory of its universal origin, a residual which makes itself heard in altered states of consciousness (usually abbreviated ASC), expressed as an urge or a beckoning to reunite with the godhead, return to the source, dissolve the ego into non-dualistic energy, etc . The distinct fingerprints of LSD are all over this model, which fails to address a number of observations made in DMT research.
In brief, Grof's universal mind does not account for the minded and communicating presences in the ASC generated by powerful tryptamine drugs. It speaks of an essentially passive ground of being, where all the spiritual activity towards a unio mystica resides with the subject. There is no acknowledgment or explanation for the apparently objective perception of 'spirit' entities, completely alien realms, intelligent communication and mental and physical healing reported from DMT drugs. A simple question such as why there is almost always more than one animated presence in alien encounters has no answer. Certain other reported phenomena, like the sense of having been there before, are somewhat more explicable. All over, however, Grof's metaphysical model seems strongly linked to the particular Innerspace realm of LSD-25, which is entirely in line with its origins. As Grof himself observed, alien encounters under LSD are very rare. The substantial differences between the major psychedelic drugs at higher levels is an intriguing fallout from contemporary tryptamine research which will hopefully pursued scientifically. But instead of comparing neurochemical bonding, one can describe Grof's universal mind theory as completely lacking a shamanic perspective; a critique which covers a wide range of objections.
Jeremy Narby, whose The Cosmic Serpent has been invoked in earlier chapters, approached the questions of consciousness from an almost opposite position. An anthropologist rather than a psychologist, his concern was primarily with ayahuasca, following a life-altering experience among the Ashaninca tribe. After being told that the shaman and elders learned their deep knowledge of healing plants from the ayahuasca brew, Narby decided to take their descriptions literally, and began a quest into anthropology, microbiology and evolution in order to solve this riddle. His book, which reads almost like a detective story, also displays a growing dissatisfaction with the myopia of Western science. Associating the Ashaninca's plant teacher claim with his own drug vision of the dominating spiritual presence of two anacondas, Narby's examination of global archaic mythologies brought forth a recurring tribal motif of twin snakes who live in water, which to him seemed a transposed symbolic representation of the double helix of DNA. In the same manner that the dimethyltryptamine of the sacred brew facilitated shamanic visualization of bodily diseases and the healing properties of certain selected plants, so had the very core of organic life shown itself to the ayahuasca drinkers. Narby does not outline a complete model like Grof, but presents two basic conclusions to his studies: 'DNA in particular and nature in general are minded'; and 'shamans take their consciousness down to the molecular level and gain access to biomolecular information'.
Re-examining the native Ashaninca mythology through his new paradigm, Narby's obser- vations have bearing not just on ayahuasca but also on pure DMT. He associates the biomolecular information the shaman receives from the organic world with the manikari, tiny hidden beings or phenomena which exist everywhere and can be seen if drinking ayahuasca. According to Ashaninca beliefs the manikari created the world and teach the people what they need to know. These statements seemed to align with the cross-scientific realizations presented in The Cosmic Serpent. Narby's expostulations have an ingenious quality but open themselves for certain objections, some of which have been raised by critics who disliked the book's 'creationist' implication. The fact that he had to search a large number of aboriginal cultures to find evidence of the DNA-like symbol weakens the theory of DNA's self-representational ability, rather than strengthening it. Nevertheless, the psychedelic community has been intrigued by the novel direction of Narby's inquiries, not least since DNA, RNA and evolution are themes that occur over and over in the noetic transmissions from deep Innerspace, evident in the writings of Leary, McKenna and others.
Jeremy Narby refrains from presenting any systematic or coherent model but settles for stating the two hypotheses which were the fruit of his research. It is however possible to infer a larger cluster of ideas from these two concepts, and this operation finds Narby on the side of transdimensional (B) type theories delineated above. The result is a kind of extended animism, wherein the alien 'dimension' accessed via the tryptamine drug is immediately present in our surroundings and presumably even in ourselves (as we are made from DNA), but unseen and unknown prior to having the shamanic access key. As an Amazonian belief system, the animism of the Ashaninca is hardly unusual, unlike the direct transposal that Narby makes of this animism onto concepts of Western science.
A more detailed theory of consciousness and the shamanic Otherworld can be found with Benny Shanon, whose Antipodes Of The Mind has been quoted in earlier chapters with reference to his extensive typology for classifying vision experiences. In addition to this typology, Shanon developed a model to help understand the central enigma of recurring visions; not just in the layman's ayahuasca state, but also in the shamanic mythology since ancient times. Shanon describes himself as a cognitive psychologist, and proves a faithful apostle of psychedelic phenomenology. Observations are tallied until a possible pattern can be inferred, after which a hypothesis is launched that strives to explain the unresolved issues given by the pattern. In Shanon's case, he distinguishes between the (A) and (B) types outlined above, and considers the possibility that model (B) – an external dimension or 'cosmic consciousness' of which the individual mind is a small reflection – offers the best explanations for the anomalies of his catalog of ayahuasca reports. Like Grof he recognizes the similarity to the 'perennial philosophy', but as a psychologist he is reluctant to favor such a belief, which is also very difficult to prove or argue for scientifically.15
Instead, Shanon proposes an intrapsychic model of type (A), which states that the entire vision experience of alien spaces, entities and dialogue is internal to the subject's own consciousness. The fact that we do not normally have this experience is due to the tryptamine drug opening up a common creative potential otherwise out of reach. The recurrence of certain envisioned symbols is due to the fact that the unlocked creativity invariably uses such or similar images to express the realm of consciousness the drug gives access to. In short, according to Shanon, all humans possess a specialized creativity which, presumably, is very old and lies dormant in the back of our consciousness, until spurred into action by tryptamine class brain catalysts. While this hypothesis solves certain riddles associated with the Innerspace realms of ayahuasca and DMT, it leaves a number of phenomenologically observed riddles unresolved. Mapping Shanon's theory against the table of common trip experiences above, one will observe that he does not account for entity contacts or their recurring appearances, both of which lack counterparts in our cultural history. Nor can he explain the guided 'school' nature of the trip, or the impressions of levels and gates. Shanon's view of Innerspace seems overly concerned with imagined tableaus, rather than the communication of knowledge and instruction from a seemingly minded counterpart. The ethical dimension and concern with nature frequent under ayahuasca is not explained. And of course, the lack of attention to entity interaction leaves several of the most intriguing aspects unexplained, such as the feeling of having been there before, the sense of being greeted and waited upon, and the eagerness of the entities to demonstrate their curious abilities.
Nick Sand, who pioneered underground DMT culture in the '60s, described his experiences of entity contacts in a way that supplements Shanon's model with a concept of auto-symbolic self- teaching that may explain the interaction phenomena that Shanon failed to address:
The beings and creatures I've seen have been curious and various, but they have never looked like anyone I've ever seen, nor any mythical creature from history. Nor did I ever feel that these creatures were extra-terrestrial. Although they were totally original and amazing, never did I feel that they were strangers. I recognized them immediately. They had a bizarre but faintly and curiously familiar feeling to them. I think that this is significant, in that the lesson is one of personal responsibility. These are our creatures created by the infinitely capable creative force to teach us about ourselves.16
It should be pointed out that Sand's familiarity or recognition of the entities is somewhat atypical; many DMT users feel the environment to be familiar, but rarely the presences there. Sand describes a model deduced from a massive number of DMT trips, '1) the design and symbol level; 2) the messenger level; and 3) an ineffable level of total communion with the Mystery.' These correspond to the levels of the general psychedelic experience model (see Chapter VIII) where Sand's level 1 of DMT (design and symbol) matches the first two general levels. This conflation is logical due to the extremely compressed nature of the DMT journey. Sand's level 3 matches the transcendental state 4 of the general model, both having the properties of rarely being attained. It is encouraging to find the structural analysis of the general psychedelic model thus validated by a DMT veteran, but unfortunately Sand offers little in way of ontological or causal discussion.
While Rick Strassman did not develop his speculative thoughts about dark matter and parallel universes into a comprehensive model, he contributed a specific element to the overall theorizing via his interest in the relationship between DMT and the pineal gland. This line of inquiry recurs throughout his book, initially raised due to the curious match between the 49 days required for the pineal gland to form in the embryo, the 49 days that precede the development of a specific gender, and the 49 days in which Tibetan Buddhists say the soul is to linger in discarnate limbo while waiting to be reborn. As noted by Strassman, the pineal gland is the only organ in the brain which is not doubled, and it has attracted mystical speculation with sources as far apart as Kabbalah and Descartes. An ancient organ located deep inside the brain, the pineal gland's function is not clearly defined, but Strassman ventures that it is the source for endogenous DMT production, and links it to nocturnal dreams and autosomatic responses to light and darkness. Unlike all the other major psychedelics, DMT occurs naturally in the body, a fact which the drug underground has used to satirize the 'war on drugs'. The fact that the body recognizes it is probably also why DMT is so extremely rapid in its onset, whether smoked or injected.
An interesting tangent to DMT's biochemical role which isn't explicitly raised by Strassman, is the phenomena of cave retreat, or yangti yoga, practiced among Tibetan yogis. As the practitioner is nearing the final stages of learning and uses the highest (anuttara yoga) tantra techniques within the Vajrayana schools of Dzogchen or Mahamudra, he or she will retreat into a cave which is then gradually walled shut to make it completely dark. Here the yogin will linger for a period of several weeks, during which visions begin to appear. These visions can be interpreted via the Bardo Thödol, the Tibetan Book Of The Dead, which on the exoteric level is a guide-book for leading the soul of a dying person towards a favorable rebirth. In the Bardo retreat, a mental state comparable to that of dying is expected to arise, and by passing through the Bardos (states) of meditative instruction, the yogin may attain the 'Clear Light' and so advance to the final stage of mental awareness. The risks for adverse effects and insanity in this challenging tantra are obvious, and readily acknowledged by Tibetan masters. The long secret tantric technique of bardo retreat via light deprivation enforces the connection between the pineal gland, DMT, hallucinatory visions and unexplained near-death experiences. Interesting parallels can also be made to the isolation tank experiments of John Lilly, and the death-like states reported from the peak moments of shamanic travels.
Behind the current mystery of a seemingly objective-collective Innerspace realm accessible via drugs like ayahuasca, Psilocybin and pure DMT lingers an older and larger enigma, which was the subject of much 20th century research. The ancient tradition of global shamanism contains a repertoire of symbols, Avatars and rituals that are curiously similar despite massive distances in time and space. This realization forms the thematic backbone for Mircea Eliade's pioneering writings on shamanism as an archaic, pre-religious activity across the inhabited world. By way of comparative anthropology a recurring pattern emerged that would become tremendously influential in modern man's perception of his distant socio-cultural past. A classic example of phenomena recurring between remote shamanic systems is the World Tree or axis mundi, a vertical passageway by which the trained shaman can traverse all regions of the spiritual Otherworld. What Eliade and others found was that the concept of the axis mundi resurfaced, with certain morphological variations, in native belief systems in Siberia, Amazonia and Near Asia. Not only that, but several other shamanic concepts appeared manifest in cultures widely separated in terms of geography, climate and diet. An attractive discovery to the structuralist paradigm of the era, shamanistic studies soon became a major concern in anthropology, as tribes around the world could now be 'measured' against the generalized ideas of a shamanic ur-model launched by Eliade.
However, the causal explanation behind these undeniable similarities was less clear-cut and by its nature more speculative, and well into the 1970s a tone of caution can be detected in the anthropological writings. A snapshot of the position of leading scholars can be found in Peter Furst's aforementioned Flesh Of The Gods (1973). The dominant hypothesis that emerged was that of an ur- shamanism not just as a model, but as a historical fact. Presumably originating in Siberia, the long migrations carried the beliefs and rituals of the ancient shamanic tribe to places as remote as South America, with a certain amount of 'corruption' along the way. This hypothesis is not easily proven, but has the advantage of falling in line with the paradigms of conventional science and humanistic studies. It is still, however, only a theory which supporting data lies thousands of years in the past and are unlikely to be uncovered.
