🫠 Realer than real

Welcome to Tricycle Day. We’re the psychedelics newsletter that never makes things up. (Except these welcome lines.) ✍️

Reality used to be a lot more black and white.

Then came filters, deepfakes, and AI slop Will Smith eating spaghetti. Now we’re all a little skeptical of everything we see.

Well, almost everything. For some people, a psilocybin journey slips past the doubt. They come home sure that what they saw was objectively true.

So for today’s newsletter, we asked our network of licensed psilocybin facilitators: How do you integrate a hallucination that felt more real than reality itself?

Here’s what they suggested.

FROM OUR PARTNERS

We can yap all day about psilocybin, but there’s another magic mushroom worth knowing about.

Amanita muscaria is the classic red-and-white mushroom you’ve seen in fairy tales and Super Mario. But it’s very real.

People often describe its effects as calming, dreamlike, and introspective.

If you want to try it, Amentara is the place to go. They work directly with foragers, formulate all kinds of products (capsules, chocolates, tinctures, etc.), and provide dosage and pharmacology guides for free.

The Starter Kit is great for first-timers.

Who made you the arbiter of truth?

Whether a hallucination was real or not matters less than it seems. Clayton Ickes argues the vocabulary is shaky to begin with: “Clinically, hallucination means perception in the absence of stimuli, and I don’t think it’s a great word to describe these sorts of experiences. It implies that there is nothing to be perceived and I don’t think that’s true.”

Luckily, your integration process doesn’t hinge on semantics. Patrick McWink says verifying your trip isn’t all that important anyway: “You can allow the experience to remain mysterious while still letting what was meaningful about it change the way you live.”

Besides, mystery comes with its perks. It can open the door to something bigger. Lara Lee Ingram leaves the name up to you, whether that’s “collective consciousness,” “the universe,” or “God(dess).” Whatever you call it, she’s found it to be “a supportive presence and/or mental construct.”

Lost and found

When a trip feels more real than everyday life, that might tell you more about the latter than the former. Sarah Mark says a journey can be especially vivid because “we have been missing something, or feeling disconnected from some part of ourselves.”

So the next move is to get curious about what it showed you. Masha Steiner-Renoir invites you to check for the aftershocks: “Did it shift how you see yourself or the world around you?” Terry Turner looks for friction: “What aspects of your life came to the fore that seemed to contradict these deeper truths that were perceived?”

If questions feel too direct, there are more symbolic routes. Benjamin Dancer turns to story and archetype: “In that realm we can feel the images, and understanding them may not be as important as using the hallucination to navigate the inner world.”

We’re so back

After a journey that visually convincing, settling back into an ordinary state of consciousness can be a process. So take it easy. Monica Ramunda starts with the basics, namely “feeling your feet on the floor, noticing your surroundings, and connecting with someone you trust.”

Once you’re steady, find an outlet for what comes up. Heather Hart offers three ways to work through the trip: “Give the experience expression through writing, art, or conversation.” Understanding, she says, takes “time to develop through your relationships and choices.”

While, yes, a friend and a sketchbook can go a long way, some experiences do call for backup. Kate Schroeder draws the line: “Staying grounded matters, and persistent disorientation or difficulty reconnecting with reality may warrant additional clinical support.”

Our take

Hallucination is a loaded word. So let’s park it for now.

As a thought exercise, consider the humble dream.

Do we wake up and ask if our dreams are real? Of course not. We bore our spouses with them, err, ask what we can learn from them.

You can do the exact same thing with psychedelic visuals, you know.

According to dream worker Katherine Lawson, images in dreams and psychedelic journeys are both “forms of information or communication.” And she has a method for reading them.

It’s best done with a trained practitioner, but you can borrow the basic idea.

Close your eyes and imagine you’re back in the dream (or trip). Pick an image from it, then notice where you feel it in your body. Now rotate your perspective into another object or character from the same scene, and observe how your body reacts. Repeat.

See, we can debate whether a talking tree is “real.” But we’ve never met a physical sensation that spoke anything but facts.

Thanks to Scott V. from Portland, OR for submitting this week’s question. 🫠

Got a question for our guides?

Reply to this email to shoot your shot. If it’s a juicy one, we may select it for a future issue.

! UNTIL NEXT TIME !

That’s all for today, Cyclists! Whenever you’re ready, here’s how we can help.

! ONE CYCLIST’S REVIEW !

So, how was your tricycle ride?

Let us know what you thought of this week’s newsletter.

• 🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄 Feeling euphoric
• 🍄🍄🍄 It was okay I guess
• 🍄 What a waste of time

DISCLAIMER: This newsletter is for educational and informational purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for professional medical advice. The use, possession, and distribution of psychedelic drugs are illegal in most countries and may result in criminal prosecution.

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