The Acid Diaries (Christopher Gray) / quote 64 of 125
Letting go into beauty
I had ever felt truly meditative on a trip. The acid hadn’t been played out at all. The same sense of boundaries dissolving, which had allowed me to become one with people on the street, was granting this gentler, sweeter sense of empathy with wind and water and trees. I felt I could lie there watching them forever. Why was something normally so difficult now so effortless? All at once my attempt to introvert acid with mask and earphones seemed to be crudely manipulative. I needed to open up, not contract still further. I needed to let go. Was that what my sessions of several months before—trips I had brushed aside—had been trying to tell me? That my approach was far too intellectual and needed to become more heartfelt? More passionate? More prayerful? Patently that had been the message of the first of the group of trips, the one when I had been listening to St. Hildegard. That I needed to let go . . . but I needed to let go into something. I needed to let go into beauty,