Robert Frost once said, “Unless you are educated in metaphor, you are not safe to be let loose in the world.” I believe that. However, in my case, I’m forced to take that quote one step further and say that unless I had grown up and lived in a world of metaphor, I would not have survived in this world.

Mine has been a life lived at the edges - a tragicomedy of sorts. How have I been able to make sense of it all? By experiencing it as a blend of the literal and metaphor, all wrapped tight in a veneer of laughs. And this, in some strange way, would account for my attraction to the magical, mystical, and terrifying world of psychedelics (with a concentration in plant medicines). 

These multi-dimensional, alien life forms have a strong pull on me because I experience them as powerful and intuitive, healing metaphors. Metaphors so highly charged they become a form of psychological shock therapy that I know will not physically kill me. In time, you’ll understand why this most unorthodox of self-help strategies is most suited to someone like me. And, not surprisingly, to a growing number of other desperate souls.

Everything in this story I’ll be telling you happened. Please forgive my liberal use of metaphor. As you might imagine, it is my first language, and the only linguistic form I feel can coherently pull my story together for you. I imagine metaphor is the only thing that stands between sanity and madness for many of us—whether we know it or not. That’s certainly been the case for me.

Welcome to my world.