In case you have not noticed, I have a common weakness. When I see some thing inside myself that could be developed or aggrandized, I write a post as if I’m an expert on the subject.

I have some habits in writing. I embody a persona when I write. Forgetting all about other personas.

Have you ever done any drug?

The creative types are famous to be into heroin. It increases creativity. Check out what percentage of jazz musicians shoot up. It not merely cultural.

What about copy-writers? Pot. And booze. Is it a culture of drunk writers, or does drinking make your first draft wider?

I am this person. Until I am in that context. Until I’m on 50 micrograms of LSD. Or until I’m infatuated with a fresh teenageer. Until I’ll be introduced to the CEO of Plastics Incorporated.

When I was 17 me and a friend “went sane” on LSD. Our realization was that if we only had the opportunity to at will change places with a tree or a hedgehog or a sales executive, we could have realized that reality had an underlying principle. A principle that awareness has a nakedness to it; that even neurotic thoughts had a basis that was not neurotic. That awareness itself had a quality.

As this insight slipped away over the coming days, I felt the need to know and embody more of what I had touched on.

Through study of meditative philosophies and the deepest possible meditative practice that I could embody, I developed beliefs. That I no longer hold. I’m less interested now to know and understand the ultimate question and the ultimate answer. I feel a bit silly now that I had expectations to know.

But you can’t know what you don’t know anymore than you can know what you are unlikely to ever know. I had to try. For a while it seemed I was involved in deep natures.

On stimulants you’ll understand better than your other selves about focus, drive, and future orientation. To the extend that you still identify with who you used to be, you’ll feel naive and  mildly embarrassed for ever being so distracted.

On pot you’ll be here and now and feel stupid for ever being anything else. You’ll appreciate a massage as if every micro-moment is the incarnation of incarnation.

If you tend to being wrapped up in yourself, drinking will unfold your petals and you’ll be proud that your essence enhances the smell of the party.  Now you can dance.  Now you are among the among.

The brain holds unlimited personas and potentials, as we see in our dreams. But dreams often hide inside forgoten spaces. Drugs force dream variety into wakefulness.

I’m sitting down at a streetside cafe. The menu is presented. Do I want to be a successful entreprenuer? Do I want to be a living in the world enlightened Yogi? Do I want to be a Chi-Kung Sexual Savant? Do I want to be a free as a bird traveling lover of yum?

When I was 17 and did that LSD trip with my friend, I did go sane. I did realize Buddha nature. There is an underlying priciple, and monkeys and men are all trapped within context. Awareness itself is something. We are too distracted to see it.

At the same time, you can have had orgies, you can have developed businesses, you can have lived under a bridge, all in the same lifetime. You can have developed deep meditative awareness and lost it. Over time we switch between contexts. Just like I wished we could, and just like I imagined would lead to a profound insight.

I doubt that the hoped for insight could have been more than an ephemeral shock outside of context. This post is about the value of shifting context. The fact that we are many personas. The fact that drugs help us to shift.

* Post written drunk. The first time in six months.  The sobering up personas edited.  It was a collaboration.