This account is protected by copyright.
It is reproduced here with the author's permission.

The Salvia divinorum Research and Information Center
is created and maintained by
Daniel Siebert

I vaporized 0.03 grams of regular enhanced leaf in a bong, and lay back, trying to relax—trying to "go with it." I was fortunate in that I had read through your site thoroughly, and had had long discussions with my sitter (who's fairly experienced), so I knew to expect something out-of-the-ordinary. Even downright weird. Yep, yep, downright weird is a pretty good, though hardly adequate, description. I found myself plastered against the inside of a cathode-ray tube, with Saturday morning cartoon cereal commercials blasting through me. It tickled. This got me laughing, and broke the trip a bit. When I calmed down, the experience deepened.

Now there were two huge Ferris-wheels in front of me—mirror images—being driven by a pair of enormous "drinking birds" (those silly novelty things that bob up and down from evaporation). A curtain behind them began parting at the bottom center, and I was drawn to investigate. When I stuck my head in, I was sucked into a tube.

I was hurtling down a long, pulsing tube that was progressively becoming more and more narrow. At first, this alarmed me, but then, as I realized it wasn't painful, I started to enjoy it. What can I say? You haven't really lived until you've become a parsecs-long strand of conscious, cosmic spaghetti.

This experience got me laughing again, and I started to re-form. As I did, the tickling, multi-pointed vibrations started all over my body for the second time, which just got me laughing all the more, and I began to return to consensus reality. I lay there giggling, and watching the room return around me, my friend sitting, amused, on the couch. “Are you back in this World?” He asked quietly as I sat up with a deep sigh.

“Which World?” I asked in all seriousness. “I remember where I was before, and I remember the trip, but how can I ever truly be certain again that this is the same place I left originally? For all I can tell, 'here' is just another part of Salvia Space."

He laughed, and smiled, and asked me just to sit for a bit, and come fully down. I did, and we talked for several hours about what I had experienced. It is now three weeks later, and I'm still pondering the existentiality of what I went through.

I've read many detractors' claims that salvia is “Not a pleasant experience for most people” (as if it were meant to be). I certainly wouldn't call it “pleasant,” per se, but I can't call it “unpleasant,” either. My sitter asked if I liked it.

“Salvia's rather beyond the level of my own likes and dislikes, if you know what I mean. I was just there. It was as ‘real’ as now, but unfamiliar and horribly strange. I didn't have much say in what happened, I don't think.” I slicked back my hair, held my head, and thought for a bit, concentrating on nothingness, before the memory faded from my memory. “Wow.” I shuddered a bit. "Where the fuck was I?

He had no real answer, despite his multiple dates with Sally. We could agree that it was a different dimension, where you're like a toddler, learning to walk. Not fun, exactly—but certainly not bad, if you're halfway expecting it. I found it exhilarating, even if a bit exhausting.

I've always believed in the possibility of multiple dimensions. Nitrous and Ether (given professionally as anesthesia) may have lead me to the door years ago; salvia was the key to unlock that door.

No-one should jump onto this bandwagon without careful consideration. Salvia is supernally strange. It can show even the most experienced psychonauts places they never imagined, with a laughably minuscule amount of enhanced leaf.

It does more than show us these places: it puts us in the middle of it all, and then leaves us alone for a few minutes. How we react is like the four-year-old toddler. It's either a grand adventure, or else an unsettling, mystifying experience that, somehow, we whimper and whine our way through. If you weren't the grand adventure fan at that age, you probably won't be now.

Yes, I will date Salvia again. Likely many times. But, like all relationships, I have to accept what I learn. And then, learn from what I've accepted. It's rarely an easy path, but I'll tell you, it's an amazingly interesting hike.

"Two roads diverged in a Wood, and I...
I took the one less travelled by.
And that has made all the Difference."
--Robert Frost