I spent a week in Puerto Rico recently—my first real vacation in several years. I’ve been to the island a few times but this was my first visit to Culebra, which is the smallest of its inhabited isles.
The place is incredible. I find it amazing more people do not visit Puerto Rico—and awful how poorly the US government treats the territory. But that is stuff for another post.
While I was there, I had the chance to do some snorkeling. And paired that with some meditation on the beach, and a low dose of LSD. One day I will post more about my use of acid, and how it can help to access deeper states of awareness. But in general, I describe the drug as pure empathy.
LSD can help people reach startling and joyous realizations and truths, and can produce benefits that persist long after the actual experience. In this instance, I took a fairly modest dose—about a third of your average “trip” amount—and paired it with a series of ideas to focus on.
The beach was not sandy, but instead was mostly rocks and shells and coral. So in essence, I sat on top of many things which at one point had been alive. There is something about dried, calcified coral that leaves no doubt it used to be a living thing.
I was struck by this beautiful realization that sometime in the future—not too long from now—I’ll be dead. And my corpse will rot away leaving only bones, just like the coral I sat on.
But even that wont be the end. With enough time, my bones will be worn away until there’s nothing but sand.
No matter what I do, no matter how much I write or what art I create or how many friends I have, it wont be long until there is zero trace I ever existed. And that comforts me.
Our bodies and egos exist for just a blink of a moment, and absolutely nothing can change that.
Nothing you can do will break that which is eternal—and nothing can truly hurt the energy which is your essence. Call it a soul; call it love; call it whatever you like. My body will fall away and leave only that.
And the snorkeling? Amazing. Acid tends to make the world sparkle, as if everything were new and unnamed.
I actually got over my fear of sharks.