—
An evening, & warmth.
The glow of
dusk & earth’d tones.
Brushing past the tongue,
The medicine leaves the sipped lip
rather: numb.
It might be wise to point out at the beginning that I am of the persuasion that does not denominate and assign predefined identities to plants. Theirs is a sublime art, emphasizing here, the Kantian definition of the word sublime, to mean the Divine beauty that contains within it infernal darkness and horror. Travels between continents, meanders across seas, demands of subservience from the meek, fetishistic rituals of dependence—these all par for the course: plants as the true scoundrels up for it all! with the compassionate hope that we may liberate from our own delusions and poisons.
As such, when I define any term or concept, I wish to relay that I am doing so from the outlook of a ‘plant person’ and ‘poisoner’, and all other identifies the reader unwittingly assigns to me are, in all respect and politeness, not to be considered.
We begin with a clap of the hands—and the joyous, eagerly expected event that is the calling out to the Daimon, the Muse:’Bula!’. Ah—a joy permeates at the scene unfolding before these eyes of the world. There in the corner of the room are echoes of faint and rumbling low music, and here, where we sit—the room a-glow in the soft offshoots of warm gilded light, fanned off by the basking lampshade. A cushion, or even two—and finally, in front of me, on top of the coffee table, a glass containing an ochre-hued beverage. Oh no, no, it truly does not get much better than this, does it?
Kava Kava: “Yes, until the drink has been imbibed, the lights turned off completely, the body lay on the couch, and finally, the eyes closed, and you begin to listen to the silences and darkness.”
Kava Kava soothes the spirit and the soul simultaneously: this is not a paltry nor easy feat to pull off! It is quite a joyful combination, allowing the user to plumb the highest of heights (the Spirit-field, wishing to leave behind all Mortal Matters) while submerged in the deepest of depths (the Soul-zone, where pain and sorrow are the truth of the Divine).
The earthy taste of Kava and the anesthetic sense left behind in the mouth, tongue, and throat—the latter of which is an important criterion to determine the quality of the plant material as well as that oh-so-subtle alteration to sensoria-experiencia (some would use the term “altered state.” I refrain from doing so as the term ‘state’ seems to imply a fixed change. Such is never the case in my own experience).
Goodness! Not a lot else compares to this! Especially for those amidst our camps who prefer subtlety and softness in our sojourns with the Plant Allies.
Aqua Vitae: “There is no wisdom so profound that can not be found amongst the inebriants.”
The shift from alcohol to Kava Kava, I opine, is to be a decision that, for most casual users of alcohol, likens to a no-brainer. Particularly those users of the drug whom I would crudely term ‘the stragglers’ — the ones who appreciate the social disinhibition and mental relaxation from the pharmakon but drink alcohol, more out of a compulsion and a lack of information and/or alternatives.
And alcohol, surely, is the inebriant par excellence. It is not a drug for most, though, I fear. No. Perhaps the absence of more kava-ites is attributable to a lack of healthy curiosity and an open, courageous imagination, partially attributable to that “close-knit group of weekend friends.” That which subtly makes us conform to implicit and unspoken social rituals and propagation of the “us and them. That is, in more modern terms: “you-can’t-sit-with-us”.
The possible result of all this is that most would-be kava-ites remain squandered on the ‘hol. Not that there is much of an issue at all with that, it must be said!
Kava Kava—”INSTANT ASSHOLE: ADD ALCOHOL”
If you are one who takes offense on such a line as the one above—, it is rather a binary logic. How hard could it be to unravel? Hint—What is This? | This is It. Hint two—Who is it that knows the badness of being an “asshole”? Who is it that knows the goodness of not being one? Enjoy unbinding that most wonderful of whirligigs.
Kava Kava—”Hah!”
A more subtle disposition descends after consumption of kava, which heals the body, energizes the elan vital (which means the Will of the user, or as Dr. Gabor Mate puts it: ‘the won’t-power’), and ameliorates anxiety. Furthermore, it strengthens the soft, intuitive inner voice of the Self, which is usually silently scattered and imprisoned amidst the constant idle chatter in the mind, which is a characteristic of living in the polarized and dichotomized modern world, with its abundance of les petite miseries des la vie humaines (The small miseries of Man).
The genocides of the imagination through media propaganda and the subsequent sacrifice of children through unwitting acceptance of wars cause most of us to be lost in a dream during our waking hours. I’d be remiss not to admit that after tuning in to the kawa’s inner tenderness and ability to induce stillness, the frequency of my consumption of the drink decreased substantially.
Instead, she and I would gather around each other on more spontaneous grounds—occasions of the appreciation of ordinary Reality. Curiously, and perhaps counter-intuitively, as the frequency of consumption decreased, the intensity experienced during our sojourns, with whispered conversations and gentle guidance and healing—this intensity ever-so-gently increased.
Kava Kava—”and there is not quite a sleep as kawa kawa Sleep.”
Yes, that too, my dear. The voice of this plant teacher emboldens when the poisoner utilizes that most cellular of hearings—the hearing blessed with Divine Madness. That is to mean oracular hearing—resting attentively on the spaces between sounds, to distinguish the noise from the signal during the phases of amplification, to have faith in our poisons during this hour of Assassin’.
I have experimentally found that if the plant person is sincere in their appreciation for this plant and trusts in the wisdom she subtly gifts—that wisdom which is, by its very nature, a caress rather than a shove or a push—if this sincerity is present, the poisoner and plant person will accrue not MERELY (as a reference to Gurdjieff’s ‘nothing-but-ism’) the physical sensuality of anxiolytic hyperbolic, but also the council of the Plant of Peace. Not a trifling matter. I personally feel that this is much needed in the current climate. Methinks it would be very liberating. Yes-me-does.
For the serious explorer- find out about the reverse-tolerance of kava, the ranges of psychoactive profiles and psycho-somatic effects, along with their durations, that different cultivars of Kava Kava provide. Then, I started with a more one-sided psychoactive profile in my first proper cultivar (Boroguru—which is a distinct body inebriation and one that is very subtle. I have a feeling most first-timers would drink this once and decide against Kava).
And then, finally, with more experience and experiments, hone in on your particular predilection, be it the somatic relaxation or the mental vigilance—akin to the centering of oneself in zazen; listening to the voice of kava. Then—pick and choose! And, of course—
Kava Kava—”BULA: to the magic around us.”
Many Blessings & Love.
