I noticed a profound shift in my psyche. Everything I used to feel as a four years old was back, and unmistakable. Allow me to be precise because this is important that we understand this. It wasn’t that I know that I’m older now, and because of Salvia, thought that I was four years old. I was literally four years old. I did not know anything other than the fact that I’m about four years old. I was transported back in time to my childhood, but these were not any particular childhood memories. The visions of my grandmother’s house, my parent’s house, the rooftops on which we used to fly kites and play, the kitchen, the dining room, the lounge, everything melded into one single vision.
I found myself playing on the rooftop of my grandparent’s house in Bidan Road, Lahore, Punjab as a four-year-old. The next vision was of my parent’s house in Township, Lahore. I found myself back home as a boy. In front of me, on either side of my vision, there were two entities twirling, dancing, and wearing traditional Shamanic Indian dresses of my culture.
Just then, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.
I saw a third figure to the left, behind them. I’m am unsure whether it was the Shepherdess or Mother Mary, or neither, but it certainly was delightful to see my grandmother again. She was there. She was smiling at me with such love that my soul melted. Every single feeling of guilt, depression, and shame came upon me. I began to weep uncontrollably.
You see, I have been in the United States since 2001. While I was here, stranded, unable to return home to my family, my beloved grandmother passed away, for which I never forgave myself. I have been severely depressed since her passing. The pain which I felt in my soul was indescribable. I was devastated by her passing, and especially from the fact that I never got to meet her again and never said farewell. I was never given the chance. My grandmother was a Dehar Shaman from Dhaka, India who gave me psychedelics thrice a year since the age of three. From the age of three to twelve, I was trained by her and my grandfather to whom I was very close, a deeply cultured and holy man, who cultivated a strict environment of learning around me while growing up back home in Punjab. I was made to learn our ancient traditions in depth. She gave me everything she was. She gave me her soul, her spirit, her entire existence. For this, I will be forever grateful.
I wept. I cried. I shed tears of bloody agony at the loss of my grandmother, at the fact that I never had a chance to say goodbye to her, that I never saw her again after I left my home country. I felt tremendous guilt that I was here, in the USA, living it up, and all the while my family missed me, thought of me, prayed for me and never let me out of their thoughts, whereas I on the other hand, became selfish in the indulgence of the Occidental culture, disconnected from my roots for a period of time.
I am sorry, dadi ammi. I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.
She looked at me with such love and forgiveness, with a smile on her face, she said, “Mera Chanda, Akhyon me paani kyon? Mera laal, kyon Pareshaan hai? Ek din tum merey paas phir ayo ge.” (Translation: My beloved Moon Child, in your eyes, why is there the water of tears? My dear child, why are you to hassle and worry? One day you will again come to me.“) In that moment, I got the closure I never had. I said the farewell I never had the chance to say. She was there, in my visions. She forgave me. She assured me as only she could.It was the most peaceful I have ever felt. My depression, my anxiety, my worries, my cares, everything came to an end. I realized that I could be with my grandmother anytime I wanted through the Diviner’s Mint.
Darkness closed around me. I asked my grandmother, “What’s happening?” as I watched my reality unzip and my fears give way. Serene, calm, and peaceful darkness encased my soul. I asked my grandmother once again, slightly worried, “What’s happening?” to which she replied, “It’s okay. Let it happen.” I put my hands on my cheek and laid down on my side in a fetal position as would a wee babe, just like a four-year-old child. I found myself whispering, “Yes. I’ll let it happen. Okay. Okay. I’ll let it happen.”
Tranquility. Serenity. Light. Love. I felt nothing but the most profound peace within me. The sorrow within me not soon forgotten, coming to a natural end. I discovered that I can’t run from my sorrow. I must let it consume me. I must let my pain, my suffering, my agony, my despair, my distress, my profound pain blossom in whole, and to feel everything that it wants me to feel. I must observe it in whole, without choice, without judgment, without prejudice, without cause or justification. I must observe my mind, my thoughts, my desires, my fears, my hopes, my anxieties, and the very structure of the “me”.
The Ending of Sorrow is the Ending of Fear. The ending of fear is the ending of Death, which is the beginning of Immortality. This is the true birthing of the Supreme Intellect of life.
