WHO’S THERE?

by Autumn Horne

We were sitting around in Helen’s room last night, and somehow the conversation landed on drugs.  Don’t judge us.  Then it meandered to mushrooms.  And I’m not talking shiitake (wokka wokka!  These are the jokes, folks!  Sorry.).  I’ve never experienced anything like that, but one of those who had said she read up on the experience beforehand so she would know what to expect because the worst thing is a bad trip.  Something about just riding through it…it was late…

The upshot is, the other day, during one of my regularly scheduled panic attacks, I saw Jean-Claude.  For god knows what reason, I thought I’d tell him I was freaking out.  I asked for advice on acclimating to this new place and this new way of doing things that we’re creating together, and he said, “just think of it like one big trip.”

Ooooookaaaaay.  I thought he was just being flip.  Which is a fine response to someone you don’t really know sitting in your home, pale-faced and wild-eyed, suddenly telling you they’re breaking down because of play practice.  BUT!  I woke up this morning, several days later, and I had to write this down!  Because—even though I’ve never “tripped” per se, I can understand the concept of riding the feelings out, letting them flow through, knowing this feeling is not forever…there are good feelings coming!  And more bad, but you can’t clamp down and control it, you have to float on top of it like that really salty, fluffy sea foam on the crest of a wave, and ride it to shore.

Metaphors, anyone?

What a ride it can be.