THE MOTHER
My introduction to psychedelics was in my early
teens. Psychedelics were the most helpful guidance I
received during those difficult years. I was
introduced to psychedelics by my older
siblings. When my kids were reaching their
early teens, and I knew they would be
exposed to the drugs through the culture
that we are in, I wanted to take the oppor-
tunity to share with them the values and
the importance of respect and appropriate
use that I felt might help them through
their coming of age.
We would have
a mother-and-son
spiritual connection
that would be
something
we could both
draw strength
from.
When my oldest son turned thirteen, as
his mother I thought that it would be the
perfect rite-of-passage to take him into the
mountains to introduce him to plant
medicines and plant teachers. When he was
eleven and twelve, he was drifting away
from our close bond. More troubled in
school, getting into fights, and becoming
rebellious, he was clearly ready to create a
new identify of his own within the context
of his peer group and the outside world. I
was concerned about the potential for drug
and alcohol misuse. At that age, he was
young enough to listen to me and take me
seriously, and I could still get through to
him to impart positive values.
A few weeks after his
peyote experience,
my son independently
became interested in
Buddhism. On his
own he found a local
Taoist temple and
started going to it
every Sunday.
I believe in the power of the plant medicines to create
a very bonding experience and I felt that within the
context of a spiritual, psychedelic rite-of-passage that our
bond would be even greater and that he wouldn't feel the
need to rebel and reject me as a parent. I felt that doing
something so powerful as psychedelics with him and
entering into that state of mind would allow for a point of
reference that would be the anchor in creating a more
honest relationship between us.
I approached him and asked him if he wanted to do a
special ceremony for his thirteenth birthday. I explained
to him that we would use a small amount of peyote
because he was familiar with it from being around Native
American Church ceremonies. I used to attend NAC
services and while he never took any peyote at them, he
did attend some meetings with me as a small child, though
mostly he just slept through them. He was happy and
excited to have been asked--probably more about the
time alone camping in the mountains together on this
special day than about the peyote. I have another younger
son as well, so my soon to be 13-year-old appreciated the
opportunity for time alone with me. I didn't know if he
had tried marijuana yet when I offered him the experience
with peyote, and he confessed that he had tried smoking
pot before.
I've always done psychedelics away
from civilization so I could have a deeper
relationship with nature and the earth, in
an uninterrupted manner. I wanted to help
him reconnect to the earth as his mother
and to the incredible power and beauty of
the animals, birds and plants. We'd had
family camp-outs before, but this was the
first time that we ever camped out alone.
We went to the Steens Mountains in
Southern Oregon. I felt at the time that it
was the best experience I'd ever had with
another person, let alone my son. There
wasn't a bit of tension.
I briefly told him about what peyote
does in advance. But mostly I felt that I
needed to sit with him with the medicine
and explain it while he was having the
experience. It was important to me to share
information and my experiences during the
ritual--what I have been taught and what I
have learned--and not to talk too much
about it beforehand. I didn't give him
anything to read about. There were no
other resources other than my own experi-
ence, which I trusted.
We woke up in the morning after our first night of
camping and had a bit of breakfast. We packed a lunch of
snacks and then we began to hike. We hiked about an
hour. We did a ceremony where I first called for protec-
tion and asked for blessings from the four directions and
the guardians and we thanked this place on earth for
being there for us. Then we ate the equivalent of one or
two small buttons of peyote--a light dose. I began to
speak. The words just came freely and naturally as I
expressed my views and values about the differences
between use and abuse. I talked about the traditional uses
of psychoactive plants and I explained how they were
tools. I told him how the plants were teachers and they
were medicines and that this was the appropriate, respect-
ful way to use them in whatever form you get them in,
whether peyote, mescaline, or LSD. I also explained the
importance of set and setting, of being in the right place
and the right frame of mind.
I don't remember him expressing any fear or anxiety.
After eating the peyote and talking and answering his
questions, we began hiking again, and noticing the magic
of the land that we were in. I asked him to walk in silence
with me for an hour. I think he broke the silence after
about 45 minutes. Then we sat and he shared with me his
comfort with what he was feeling and his excitement
about being in the mountains with me. We then started
talking about shamanism and he shared with me his own
techniques he practiced as a child in his imagination to
protect himself when he felt fearful. He also shared with
me insights and his spiritual inspiration he received from
the books he'd been reading, which were
mostly fantasy novels. Under these circum-
stances, he felt safe to open up to me about
his secret side, his spiritual take on the
world.
We talked some more about shaman-
ism, and power animals and protection, and
he asked me how he would know what his
power animal is? I explained to him they
sometimes come in dreams, or in visions
when doing plant medicines, and some-
times you just know--you have a sense
about it. I asked him what he thought his
power animal might be, if he had any idea?
He said he thought it was a bear. I suggested
to him that he close his eyes and ask the
universe what his power animal was.
At the time, we were sitting on some
rocks on the ridge of a mountain. We
opened our eyes and talked a little while
more. Ten or fifteen minutes later, a bear
walking across a field of snow appeared
about a hundred yards in front of us. He
asked me if that bear was real since he
thought he might be hallucinating. I told
him it was real. It was springtime, and down where we
were there was no snow, but up on the hill there was
snow. After the bear was gone, we went to look at the
tracks. We followed them to rocks where they disappeared
and left some of our nut mix as a gift. It was quite magical.
Later, we were in an old juniper forest up high and he
found a tree and connected to this one tree and even felt
like it was speaking to him. Then we felt it was time to
walk back to camp.
The next morning, we ventured to the hot springs just
down the road where I facilitated a symbolic rebirth of his
self. I asked him before he went under the water to hold a
picture in his mind of himself as he has known himself as
a child. I told him that when we went under, he should let
go of that image and allow a new part of himself to
emerge. He emerged from the water with great elation.
The rest of the time together was laughing and
sharing like we never did before. I let him drive the truck
for the first time. It was just fantastic. I think he will
remember more about our experience than I will. A lot has
happened since that journey.
Before we went on this retreat, he was going through
a rebellious period. Afterwards, we had very little conflict.
When conflict did occur, we were able to talk through it
more easily. He was more mature and at ease around me.
He's been very honest around me ever since, and we've
expressed love and affection more openly.
Sometime after that, my husband took him backpacking in the mountains for several days, conducting a rite-
of-passage in his own way. Even though he wasn't doing
psychedelics at the time, my husband understood and
agreed with what we were doing and valued it. When
there is conflict among parents, kids can
become confused, so it was important that
we both were in harmony about the value of
my sharing peyote with our son.
A few weeks after his peyote experience, my son independently became
interested in Buddhism. On his own he
found a local Taoist temple and started
going to it every Sunday. And he became a
vegetarian. I had to cook his meals sepa-
rately since we all ate meat. I think his self-
esteem was greater after this experience. He
pondered spiritual things more. By luck at
that time in his life, he got a speaking part
in a Disney movie. With the money he
made from the movie, he went to Bali for
five weeks. He started having his own
experiences out in the world, to create his
own sense of self. I was blown away how it
just fell into place like that. The rite-of-passage really seemed to have worked.
Later when he wanted to do mushrooms with his friends, he told me about it
and I was able to encourage him to do it in a
natural setting. I was able to be a kind of a guide and
explain to him that drugs were not all the same, and, for
example, that cocaine was not as useful as psychedelics.
He felt comfortable coming to me. Later when he was 15
he came to me with some blotter acid. Since I was worried
about the quality of the acid, I traded him some mush-
rooms for it. I never have known him to abuse any drugs.
He seemed to prefer mushrooms over synthetics. He
smokes marijuana occasionally, but has never used it
heavily. He relationship to alcohol is the same, occasional
and not frequent. He seems aware of what he is doing and
of when he might be getting close to abusing. He hangs
out with like-minded boys who also seem respectful of
their use.
My younger son and I also did a similar ritual that
really bonded us. He listens to me and respects my values
and views and opinions about drugs. He's a skateboarder.
Since the ritual, his self-esteem and perseverance in-
creased. He's become a semi-professional skateboarder. He
appears in magazines and videos. He's "hot stuff" and he
did it all himself. He's had many injuries, resulting in
three surgeries, but he never allowed these to discourage
him. He made the most out of his talent and has tremen-
dous self-confidence. I think he gained much of that from
a powerful affirmation from his parents.
The rites-of-passage weren't focused as much on
doing the psychedelics as on giving my sons an affirma-
tion of their value and place in the world. The time alone
in the mountains provided us with the space of comfort,
ease, and openness, without distractions. Now my kids
prefer to go into nature to do psychedelics. When my
youngest was 17, he wanted to go the Oregon desert to do
mushrooms with his friend. He wanted me to take them,
which I did. I acted as their sitter. I'm not sure if his
friend's parents knew. That was a little uncomfortable, but
I knew they were both already doing mushrooms and
smoking pot and that the friend's parents knew that. He
said his parents would be okay with what he did, so I
trusted him.
An open dialogue with kids about substances is very
important these days. If they want to do it, kids will do
drugs regardless of whether they have their parents'
approval. I don't think my kids are doing more drugs
because of this open attitude. My oldest son is doing well
in college and is a serious student. He's an occasional user,
but I don't see him stoned too often.
My younger son has a laid back life-style and is a more
frequent user of marijuana and occasional user of alcohol.
He's had run-ins with the law, but my honest opinion is
that the cops in my town harass the youth more than they
need to, and have developed a paranoia about drugs. It's so
silly to think that they can stop kids from doing drugs. It
takes a lot to influence kids at that age. I think it has to
begin early and with an open and honest approach. Do
they really think that the War on Drugs has ever worked?
Has it ever stopped kids from using drugs, or even slowed
it down? Wherever you try to forcefully control the youth
culture, it gives them something to rebel against.
Kids need a validating experience at that age and if
they don't have it, then they create it through rebellious-
ness, in order to establish their own identity. I found that
rites-of-passage my husband and I provided not only gave
our boys the validation they needed from us, but also
strengthened our family bond.
THE SON
Starting in about the fifth grade, an anger began to
grow within me. When I entered middle school, the anger
grew bigger and more powerful. I was confused about
many things and I often felt torn between contradictory
ideas and values. On one hand, there was what I knew
from the upbringing my parents had given me. On the
other hand, there was what I was receiving from my
friends and peers and the pop culture around me. I became
painfully aware of my individuality, which often mani-
fested as a profound sense of isolation and loneliness. I
was trying to find a way to feel okay with myself.
My rites-of-passage came at an important time in my
life. I began smoking pot before my thirteenth birthday.
On my birthday, I did blotter acid bought off the street,
and later I began to use mushrooms. These experiences
were always with my friends, with no guiding values
other than curiosity and a fear of being left out. My friends
who had already tried psychedelics made the experiences
sound exciting. I was aware of their potential use as plant
medicines and spiritual tools, but that awareness was not
reflected anywhere in my life outside of my home. Since it
was through my peer group and the music that I listened
to that I was being introduced to marijuana and psyche-
delics, I naturally began to associate their importance with
what my friends told me, which had no spiritual content.
When my mother first proposed doing the rite of
passage, I was excited about it. Even through my darkest
years, I never lost my respect for spirituality. In fact, it was
during the hardest times that I yearned most strongly for
it. I was aware of and curious about peyote use in the
Native American Church, but that seemed far removed
from my life as a twelve-year-old boy. The rite of passage
with my mother taught me another way--the true way, I
believe--to use psychedelics and plant medicine.
The experience itself was powerful, but in a very
subtle way. I took only a small amount of peyote, in a
capsule, and did not have any sort of normal psychedelic
experience. I didn't have auditory, visual, or other sensory
hallucinations, or feel a drastic shift in my consciousness.
What I experienced instead was a deeper connection with
the natural world, almost a sort of expansion of conscious-
ness into it. A paradigm shift. The experience with seeing
the bear also had a profound impact on me, as it was the
first time I had what I considered at that time a "spiritual
experience," and gave me something to hold on to--my
spirit animal. At an age when everything is being ques-
tioned, it was a powerful reinforcement of the truth and
existence of the spirit, and universal connection.
A connection between my mother and I was created,
which has stayed open ever since. She was very trusting
with me, non-judgmental, and accepting of what I had to
say and of my previous experiences. This allowed my to
feel safe enough to share my deepest and most-closely
held ideas about the world--ideas I wasn't able to share
with anyone else at the time. Being able to externalize
these, and feel validated by what she said to me and what I
experienced those days out in the desert, strengthened my
self-confidence. From then on, my experimentation with
"drugs" didn't come between my mother and I--I didn't
have to hide it. When I felt ready, I could share these
experiences with her. She always listened, accepting and
honest. She would express her concerns about things she
saw as inappropriate, and explained to me why this was,
but she never got angry or punished me. I came to respect
her opinions. Although I had to build my own under-
standing of the world, much of my personal spirituality
has been based directly on my mothers teachings.
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