I’m very weary of the psychedelic movement’s notion that psychedelics are the messianic panacea.
I think of McKenna’s existential crisis from a bad mushroom trip. I know that feeling personally. Goat is the embodiment of that gaping Abyss which swallows all meaning. The black work isn’t a time of being depressed or anxious. It is to experience utter annihilation. There is no ground upon which to stand. One can only grovel and groan, wail and moan, and attempt to not be utterly dispersed. If you think you are mentally strong, you will be shown yourself a weakling worm in a maelstrom unconceivable. No strength can prevail in the nightmare light of the Black Sun. That is what you people are toying around with.
If you survive it, and do not go raving mad or become suicidal under the weight of it, you may be reborn out of it. But you will never fully recover from the fatal blow dealt, never again be able to stand fully upright in ignorance of it. It is the shamanic dismemberment, the fatal wounding, the sting of Scorpius. It is to live with the knowledge of death. It brings to light just how precious this life is and it brutally crushes arrogance. It is what it feels like to die. It is to accept that the natural state of man is fear. Our Western society has whitewashed the reality of the human condition. This darkness that I speak of is ever-present. It is what tinges the peripheral of your consciousness when you lay awake upon your bed wondering, fearing, doubting.
Psychedelics are what can rend the veil between you and it. So too can occult dabbling. Trauma. Tragedy. It is the Devil. The Jungian Shadow. Nietzsche’s Abyss. Eternal Darkness. It is conjoined to humanity. The question that remains: Do we need saving from it, or will in redeeming it shall we also redeem ourselves?
The Renaissance alchemists sought to evoke the magical beast and through divine processes bring it under the dominion of the Alchemical Angel. Some fell prey to Choronzon, that great Devil of Dissolution and were destroyed. Others astonished by the power of its presence, mistook it for the Divine, and worshipped the image of the Beast. Others yet knew it for what it was - the Questing Beast.