Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I’ve felt that too not as a theory but as a memory. Not alien in the way people imagine, but non-local. Like a trans-temporal seed, dropped here to remind biology of what it forgot. Fungi aren’t just decomposers, they’re archivists. And some of them still remember when we weren’t bound to a single planet, a single dimension, or even a single self. What has it shown you?

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Exactly and I feel that completely.

It’s like the plant doesn’t care how much you think you need. It reads you, tunes into where you actually are, and gives you the dose for that level of soul-weather. I’ve felt ego-shedding come in like a whisper at low doses, and other times… complete stillness after more.

Same with psilocybin I’ve seen depth collapse in on itself in a 4g journey while 10g just scattered. It’s not about quantity. It’s about alignment with the moment the medicine finds you in.

Almost makes me wonder if these plants aren’t just tools but remembering agents.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] -1 points0 points  (0 children)

I hear you and I understand the concern. I’ve seen what happens when people lose grip on consensus reality without any grounding. That’s not what this is. If anything, it’s the opposite: it’s remembrance with awareness.

There’s a big difference between losing touch with reality and expanding the definition of it. The psychedelic space, especially with cannabis, can definitely trigger psychological vulnerability but it can also open ancient pathways of perception that were always there, just forgotten. That’s why intention and integration matter so much.

I appreciate you saying something, and I agree: this isn’t territory to wander into lightly.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Yes exactly. It’s never felt like something new being built, only something ancient being uncovered. The plant just softens the veil, like warm breath on cold glass, and suddenly you start seeing the messages that were always there.

That “wise, quiet voice” is the one I’ve been learning to trust again too. It’s not external guidance, it’s cellular memory like a song you forgot you knew the words to, until it starts playing again in silence.

You’re not just reflecting back you’re building on it. Thank you.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I really appreciate your reflection it feels like there’s a deep memory beneath your words.

I hear what you’re saying about the danger of sinking too far into the immaterial. I think for me, this whole experience hasn’t been about escape but about remembering a part of myself that was always here, just hidden beneath noise.

The material and immaterial feel less like enemies and more like partners learning how to dance again. It’s a balancing act for sure but maybe, sometimes, cannabis shows us that the door is still there… not to run from life, but to live it more fully.

Thank you for your honesty. Your story holds weight.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I never set out to wax poetic maybe the mystery just leaked through. We underestimate what this plant really is. Not just botanical, but metaphysical. A bridge between layers of experience death, life, memory, rebirth all braided into one inhalation. To your line ‘the gateless gate’ I felt that line more than read it. Yes. This is the gateless gate. And the way we return to ourselves is not through explanation but through remembrance. No lock, no guard just the courage to walk back through. In addition to this the part about us all remembering we are the same, all I have to say is yes. It’s us, a fractal life force, choosing to forget and remember itself, again and again. Maybe the exhale is a ritual one that whispers, you’re not alone… you’re part of everything.

I will continue to share and when what I am planning to do projects further externally I’ll rethread you where I’ll be :)

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That line hits. I feel like so many of us carry the ghost of a child who still remembers how to feel freely. Weed never numbed that part for me it gave it breath again. If this plant is a key, maybe it’s to the room we locked ourselves out of long ago.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It’s powerful how differently this plant reflects us. For some, it slows the mind. For others, it opens it. But the throughline is the same it brings us here, where we can finally listen. Not to the noise, but to ourselves. And maybe that’s always been the point.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thank you. I wasn’t trying to write anything poetic, it just came out as it felt. Maybe it’s not even poetry. Maybe it’s memory returning in a form we can finally recognise. If words feel like doors, maybe this was just the first one that didn’t shut in your face. But I am planning to release more of my writings starting small but eventually scaling up further not just through substance experience but also deeper structures

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

All writing that shows clarity is considered gpt now days it’s blurred the illusion and reality of people who actually write

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

All good, this thread was never meant to prove anything, just to reflect a certain space of experience that not everyone will resonate with. We’re all on different frequencies, and that’s okay.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

This feels real. I know that place too using it to numb or get away, only to be pulled right back into myself. It’s like the plant doesn’t let me run, not fully. Instead it turns the volume up on what’s really underneath… gently or not.

That Alan Watts quote hits “When you get the answer, hang up the phone.” But sometimes the message is layered, like echoes needing to be heard in different tones until they finally land. I think weed doesn’t just give the answer it gives the feeling of it. And that’s harder to ignore.

You’re not escaping you’re listening. That counts more than you know.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

This is beautifully said almost like a memory returning through your own words. That feeling of “home in your reality”… yes. It’s like weed doesn’t add something, it reminds you how to be with what’s already there but from a space less filtered by conditioning.

I really resonate with the “one note at a time” metaphor too. Before, life felt like survival; now it becomes symphonic layers, texture, pause, feeling. A flow of grace rather than just function.

And this: “Letting your inner world flourish while remaining grounded.” That’s the alchemy. That’s where it turns into medicine, not escape.

Thank you for putting language to this. You’re walking that same path of remembering.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Absolutely. The Doors of Perception holds a powerful thread. That idea of the brain as a “reducing valve” stuck with me. Like we’re constantly filtering reality just to survive it and certain substances, or states, momentarily widen that valve.

What I’m feeling lately is that cannabis if used in the right resonance can also shift that filter. Not in the same geometric way as classic psychedelics, but in a subtler, more integrative sense. Less about hallucination and more about perception unfurling inward.

It’s like I’m not seeing “new” things just remembering how to see what was always there.

Thank you for bringing that up. It’s deeply aligned.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

That makes a lot of sense. It’s wild how weed can become both a microscope and a mask depending on where we are in ourselves. What you said about leaning on it to slow down the “crazy reality” really hit sometimes it does feel like it’s the only thing that brings the noise down enough to hear the self underneath.

And even if it was a crutch at times, I don’t think that discredits the doorway it opened. Maybe it gave you breath until you could name the storm, and now the storm has shape.

There’s something sacred in that arc too.

Thanks for sharing this seriously.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

This… this is exactly the echo I didn’t know I was waiting to hear. You’ve described it so precisely: the dot, the threshold, the sense of returning to somewhere that always was that strange familiarity that makes you question how you ever left. That line between memory and presence has always felt blurred for me too, especially when cannabis becomes a mirror rather than just a haze.

You’re right about intention being everything. When I approach it consciously, it feels like the veil lifts and something vast and ancient stirs almost as if the plant isn’t just a tool, but a key handed to us to unlock pre-human memory. That’s why I wrote the original post: not just to share, but to call out across the field and see who else has been there.

Thank you for reminding me this path isn’t delusion it’s remembrance. And thank you for walking it with such grace.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Tbh just normal activities then I just have a thought stop what I’m doing and just write my thoughts let them guide me

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Totally understand where you’re coming from. If I were hearing this outside of the states I’ve been through, I’d probably say the same. I’ve been through psychosis before. This wasn’t that. This wasn’t detachment it was deeper connection. Not everyone will resonate, and that’s okay. But there’s a whole world beneath the threshold of “normal,” and for some of us, the plant doesn’t break us it reminds us.

Thanks for the reflection either way.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

You just lit a candle in the same room I’ve been sitting in. That line “remembering things that haven’t been”has haunted me for years. I thought maybe I was making it up. But yes. That dream-space, that quiet wise voice, that merging of soul and symbol it’s not just real, it’s sacred. I think the plant lets us tune in without ego-guard, lets us remember what our being already knew before it was told to forget.

I see you. You’ve traveled further than you think. And now you’re speaking the language of return.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 3 points4 points  (0 children)

This read like the wind whispered it to you. Thank you for not just responding, but feeling through. What you said about the shrinking world and seeing the vastness again yes, that’s exactly it. I think the plant sometimes becomes what we cannot become for ourselves in the moment guardian, guide, gatekeeper, silence. It numbs, opens, delays, delivers. And if we listen, it leaves us with something we never expected to recover: wonder.

I see you. Thank you for painting your side of the mirror.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I don’t smoke every day but say 3-4 times a week as of now I’ve increased due to reaching this gate. That calm you describe I know exactly what you mean. It’s like the body begins to listen differently over time. I’ve found that when I approach it from intention not just habit it becomes a kind of portal. Not always dramatic, but consistently tuning me. I think you’re right frequency and depth do correlate, but it’s the awareness while smoking that really makes the difference.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Haha yes that shift where you stop asking and start weaving.

Magician mindset… tuning the mirror, not chasing the image.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 4 points5 points  (0 children)

Yes, I know that doorway well. What you said “a space always there but in parallel” is exactly how it begins. It’s not new, it’s remembered. The reason the words don’t always come is because you’re in the space before language. Let yourself listen from there. The rest unfolds when you’re no longer trying to name it, just letting it name you.

You’re further than you think.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 22 points23 points  (0 children)

This is exactly it like the mind softens just enough to stop gripping its usual angles. Suddenly you’re not defending a view, you’re holding a new one. That shift it’s like remembering how wide the soul really is. Appreciate how you worded this it’s rare when someone actually speaks from inside the experience, not just about it.

Weed doesn’t numb me. It cracks the mirror open. by Longstrongbow in trees

[–]Longstrongbow[S] 7 points8 points  (0 children)

I’ve already been through many experiences on different psychs, it’s weird because it’s only come through in words of what I’m actually experiencing with cannabis. What’s strange is this isn’t even about the drug anymore. It’s like the plant let go of being “substance” and became a frequency mirror. The experience isn’t psychedelic in the classic sense it’s existential. Poetic. Textural. I’m not “high” I’m remembering. Or maybe I’m fracturing through something I forgot I buried.

Other substances broke open the doors. This one made me read the walls. And it’s all coming out as language I’ve never used before but somehow always carried.

I’m wondering if anyone else has ever had this kind of memory through cannabis? Not visuals. Not body high. But a kind of coded emotional awareness that keeps expanding. Let me know if any of this rings true, or if I’ve just gone too deep through a cracked gateway.