thank you, carl

I had fun in my twenties. I experimented. Tried drugs. Thankfully, nothing ever stuck. I was more into booze, and even that wasn’t much of a vice. Maybe it’s my Virgo moon, but I don’t like feeling out of control. And drugs don’t really support that narrative.

Still, I dabbled.

Coke? Not for me. It made me super hyper for about an hour, then hungry, then ready for bed (weird, I know). My friends were gearing up for bumps three and four while I was eyeing a slice of pizza and my PJs.

Ecstasy? That was fun. I still remember the first time my boyfriend touched me while on it. Sensational. Literally.

Weed? Never really into it. It gave me about 30 minutes of giggles before I was, once again, ready for food and sleep.

And that pretty much sums up my drug experimentation in my twenties. Haven’t done much since.
Except… shrooms.

Now, in my 40s, the idea of trying a new drug felt preposterous. I’m at the stage in life where one cocktail is enough to knock me out for 48 hours—so let’s leave it at that. But with all the hype around microdosing mushrooms, my curiosity got the best of me.

So I tried it.

And I have a few times since.

It’s the only drug that doesn’t make me want to eat and sleep. Instead, it puts me in a beautifully zen state where I actually observe the world. I have to do it in nature. My phone, the TV, any kind of modern technology are repulsive while on it. So I go outside, pop a piece of chocolate, and let the world unfold.

Let me be clear: I am not an expert on shrooms. I’ve partaken only a few times over the past five years. And I’m definitely not endorsing or recommending anything. Dabble at your own risk.

But I will share my experience—through this ridiculous little poem I wrote about two years ago, the last time I microdosed.

I was sitting on a beach in Malibu, simply watching.

The seals play.
The dogs play.
The kids play.
The waves play.

Freedom. That’s power.
That’s living.
That’s play.

The soccer man plays.

I stop writing. I breathe. I look at the ocean. I see a seal. I write some more.

Carl the seal.
Made me love seals.
Playing to the music.
Rocking with us.
Carl gets it.
Carl fucks with us.
I love Carl.

I stop writing and watch the sunset. At this point, I’m sober again.

I had been sitting there, still, for five hours. Drinking water. Eating snacks. Just being. Present AF. Taking it all in.

I remember thinking how amazing it was that so much was happening. What a coincidence! All this movement, all this life—right in front of me, as if the world was putting on a show just for me.

Then I realized… it’s not a coincidence.

Life is always happening. I just don’t always pay attention.

Thank you, Carl.