The Ritual.

“Metaphor for a missing moment.
Pull me into your perfect circle.
One womb, one shape, one resolve.
Liberate this will to release us all.”
— A Perfect Circle, Orestes.

In the days that followed the shroom trip, I found myself constantly reflecting on the incident that occurred in the bathroom, where I found myself in another space, surrounded by a circle of “spirits” seemingly headed by a taller, female being with whom I communicated. The way I found myself on the ground with all of them arranged around me like a living Stonehenge was curious. I remember the figures surrounding me were humanoid if not human, but no details such as their faces or clothing have survived. I’m uncertain as to whether that was the case during the experience or only the effects of the amnesia.

The conversation I had with the tall, slender woman looming before and above me felt like a conversation with an actual person, too. She gave off this strong vibe that seemed psychic as well as sexual: an intense but controlled energy. She seemed very accepting of me and I really felt a sort of bond with her, which is not to say that I knew her or felt as if I had been to that place before.

There was no anarchy of thoughts and perceptions, unlike the craziness that followed that point in the trip, however — quite the contrary. What I did remember suggested an incredibly stable, coherent and real experience, it was only that I was unable to recall the experience in totality.

It felt like a ritual of some kind. It was as if I had been summoned, evoked, conjured up by those “spirits” much as some of those practicing magick in our world are said to do with respect to them. As utterly insane as it sounds, that idea really intrigues me.

I’ve asked two women I know, one a Pagan and the other who is a close friend of a Pagan, hoping they might shed some light on whether this actually seemed like a ritual or — perhaps more likely — it was just some weirdness my brain cooked up, but so far, no insights.

Still, it seemed so very fucking real, and the small amount of writing I dedicated to the experience just didn’t seem to do it justice. There was simply no way I could capture it in words like an insect in amber, there was just no hope of doing it justice in verbal translation. I want to do research, wrap my head around it more tightly, but have no idea where to begin.