Chocolate Mushrooms and Salt Babies

1:55 AM: the journey begins

The iOS keyboard already feels beautiful, sharp, vibrant, perfect. Everything is zoomed in a little, brighter, richer. I'm listening to Jon Hopkins.

Suddenly music isn't just something to hear, it's something to be inside of. Every melody is intense, immersive. Maybe too intense, I switch to classical at 1:56 AM. Mozart is gentler, safer, familiar.

My trip sitter is asleep nearby, reassuringly available. The space around me feels comfortable, known, protective. I decide to note down my thoughts, promising myself I'll check back when I'm closer to peak.

Ten minutes later, I laugh at myself. Placebo is powerful. I don't feel much yet, but I keep listening and note-taking, switching albums again at 2:08 AM. Porter Robinson's Nurture feels softer, a perfect backdrop as sensations slowly emerge.

By 3:17 AM, I'm officially "100% high." Letters float in three dimensions on my screen. Reality shifts subtly, preparing me for what's next.

when one plus one stops being two

There's a moment when logic fades, and you realize your ego is dissolving. That's the exact moment your sense of individual identity vanishes. I'm not "me" anymore, just awareness, expanded into everything.

In that oceanic moment, I glimpse the fundamental truth: all beings are connected. But here's the catch, it's impossible to express this insight clearly. When you experience it, you just know. When you leave it, it makes no sense. It's like trying to explain how an apple tastes. Words fail completely.

the dance of the universe

Life, the universe, it's a dance. I see clearly now why mystics use this metaphor. If someone says, "Life's meaning is dancing," it sounds ridiculous until you experience what it means to truly become part of the dance itself. In the peak of my experience, everything was dancing, no questions, no doubts, just the flow of existence.

When you're in the dance, you can't ask "What's the meaning?" because you are the meaning. You're salt dissolving into the ocean. The salt doesn't question the ocean, it simply becomes it. But when you step out of the ocean, people who haven't been there ask, "What's it like?" The truth is impossible to describe because there's no "you" to describe it once you're dissolved.

salt babies in the ocean

We are all "salt babies," tiny beings made from salt, questioning the ocean from the shore. We keep asking, "What's the meaning of life?" But the answer can only come from dissolving into the ocean, realizing we never truly existed separately at all.

If you're still asking questions, you're still a salt baby, standing at the edge. Once you're in the ocean, questions vanish. You realize the ocean (existence) was always there, infinite, timeless. There's never a rush; the ocean isn't going anywhere. It's always available.

compass of feelings

I noticed every decision in life is guided by an internal compass, an intuition or feeling that pulls us toward the ocean. It's like an invisible magnet directing us. It doesn't matter what you do, whether you become a teacher, artist, programmer, or carpenter. Every path leads eventually to the ocean.

This isn't nihilism. It's liberation. It means there's no wrong choice, just follow what feels deeply right, fulfilling. Fulfillment isn't temporary pleasure; it's a deeper, sustained joy. It's aligning yourself with your internal compass, which always points to being fully present.

the present moment as ocean

Every profound experience in life, watching a sunset, listening to music, experiencing deep love, is profound because, for a brief moment, your ego dissolves. You enter the oceanic present. That's why these moments feel sacred. You're experiencing your true nature, briefly merging back into the ocean.

You don't need psychedelics to experience this, but they're certainly a shortcut. Meditation works too, though it might take decades to sustain this awareness. But no matter how you get there, once you experience it, you'll know why mystics say the meaning of life is simply "being present."

realizations fade, but not completely

As my ego slowly rebuilds itself after dissolving, insights linger. I'm aware these words might later seem strange or vague, salt babies speaking in oceanic metaphors, but they hold profound truths. When you genuinely experience the ocean, you stop wondering about the meaning of existence because you are existence itself.

Now, whenever someone asks, "What should I do with my life?" I'll have a straightforward answer: follow whatever brings you fully into the present. Dance, teach, write, program, whatever it is, if it dissolves your ego into the moment, it's right.

the shortest poem in the world

At the peak of my experience, I pondered poetry. What's the shortest possible poem? I concluded it's a single dot. Just one tiny point representing the present moment, the purest distillation of existence itself. Nothing complicated, nothing fancy. Just is.

Then I remembered a playful fact: the dot above the lowercase "i" is called a "tittle." Poetry and enlightenment don't have to be heavy. Sometimes, they can be just a dot, a single, fleeting moment of pure existence.

trusting the ocean

Ultimately, all existential questions boil down to trust, trust in the ocean of existence. Words like faith or belief don't capture it fully. It's deeper, simpler. Trusting that the ocean is always there, always available. You don't have to rush; you're already part of it.

everything is a feeling

Finally, I arrived at a simple, yet profound realization: everything we experience, good, bad, joyful, painful, is fundamentally a feeling. Life itself is felt more than thought. We feel music, sunsets, love, sorrow, laughter. Every meaningful moment in life is fundamentally experiential, emotional.

So here's the conclusion of this journey: embrace the simplicity of feelings, follow your internal compass, and remember you're already in the ocean. You're not just a salt baby at the shore; you are, and always have been, the ocean itself.