There’s an experience that I should share, and that’s the day I came to embrace fatherhood.
This came just before my daughter, Aria, was born. I had been listening and reading to a significant amount of life-straightening advice at that time, and I continue to do so. One of the concepts that I came across was the use of psilocybin mushroom for addiction. So I was curious, and dug further, to find that there is evidence for permanent change in perception and understanding with the use of this mushroom. (Some call it a drug but I will refer to it as a mushroom)
Psilocybin containing mushrooms have unique qualities that can actually change the way your brain works. It can deaden pathways that are thick and strong, like the ones responsible for difficult lifestyle changes and addiction. But, it can also create new pathways. These pathways, from brain cell to brain cell, form the daily basic patterns that create thoughts and habits.
These mushrooms have the potential to create conscious plasticity in the brain for the user. A thing that could be very useful or potentially traumatic. But like all things useful, there is no benefit without the potential for damage.
I was never into drugs growing up, I was taught that they were dangerous only, and horrible for your health. And like a fool, I never questioned it. Not until I experimented with marijuana, and found a way that it could be used to make my life and relationships better. And if that was something that I could use as a tool to improve myself, why not these mushrooms?
Naturally, when a cousin of mine offered to take some together, I was prepared to say yes.
At this point, Hannah was less than a month away from her due date. I am still ashamed of myself for how I was to her in those long 8 months. In a lot of ways, she would have been no worse had I not been with her during that time. I knew it too. Cowardice kept me from leaving, and cowardice pushed me away.
Thankfully, there was more to me than that. I knew I was having a difficult time accepting my future, and it made me bitter and cruel in the present. I wanted to change that, but I needed help. Maybe most would consider asking for help or seeking therapy, but no not me. I wanted to talk to the guy in charge. If I was going to get over my stubbornness, then I would have to make this attempt the best I could do. I told myself, if there is a God, then I’m going to find it.
I found what I was looking for.
We were a group of three, but I was the novice. Admittedly, I was afraid of what was in store for me, but I would follow through nonetheless. I felt the effects in about an hour. We were hiking through the woods and as I was walking I felt a lightness come over me. The feeling of tension was gone. My jaw became slack, my shoulders naturally depressed, my chest opened up, and my breath was fuller and longer. But I still had total control of my mind, and I was surprised by that. Surely I thought I’d be seeing neon octopuses and mushroom giants, but there was none of that.
Then we settled in a large clearing that served as an outlook for the Katy Trail. People came and went but we had our space to ourselves. We had some music playing, which was nice. The ground we were laying on was mostly rock with some patches of moss and wild flowers. It was comfortable enough.
I laid there looking in the sky, still unsure of what to expect, and then I noticed. The sky was still the sky, but there was dimension to it. I could see the blueness of daylight but also the darkness that was beyond it. The way it looked, it was as if I were staring into hole. There weren’t any definable boundaries, but I could see the different layers of altitude as the hole got deeper. It was subtle, a light blue to a slightly darker color, but it was undeniable. I mentioned it to the other two I was with, and they immediately described it exactly as what I was seeing.
These next two events were what changed me.
The first was a reflection through nature. To the left of me, in the corner of my view, was a tree. I was surrounded by trees, but this tree was unique to me. It was still young, clearly not fully matured, but tall enough to have been there for years. It was surrounded by a bush or vine. It was some sort of invasive species, not dangerous on its own, but dangerous to this tree. There was already a few dead limbs around the base of the tree that were suffocated and bare. Yet the tree still had plenty of life.
I was drawn to this tree. It was almost magnetic. I could not look away by will. But then again, I felt I had no will to look away. I had to turn my head just to see it clearly, but I did, and I stayed that way for a while. The force that was drawing me to this was not a voice, but a feeling that felt like a voice. And I stared at that tree and I saw myself. And I saw life, and I saw death.
Part of me knew it was just some tree with a couple of dead branches, but the rest of me knew that this was a more accurate reflection of me than a mirror would show. This felt real and true. And it brought water to my eyes when I realized who I was. And it frightened me deeply.
Then I looked up. And although there was no change in brightness of the day, the sky seemed to shine onto me. And that’s when I saw it.
The cloud just immediately in my line of sight took the shape of baby. A featureless baby with its arms and legs tucked into itself, peacefully. And when I realized what I was seeing it hurt me badly. My shame made me look away. And when I looked back up it was still there, not even the wind would move it. At this point, my heart felt heavy, but my mind was still holding on. I felt myself scramble to try to rationalize any type of emotion that would spring up into consciousness. And as I looked around the sky, I saw that it wasn’t just the one, but all the clouds took the form of a baby.
I felt powerless and overwhelmed. And then came the voice. It was not spoken but I could hear it. It was like my voice, but it was not my voice. But more than just a feeling, this was a voice. And it said to me “This baby will save your life.” And it felt so true that I let go of myself and began to cry.
Almost as soon as I started did I try to stop. It was a silent cry, because I was ashamed to be emotional in front of company. Imagine, knowing you are in the presence of God, and still choosing to shield your vulnerability. Only a special fool could do something like that.
In the time leading up to the birth of our child, Hannah and I saw improvement in our relationship. I could tell that I had hurt her, by my words and by my actions. But I could also tell she saw something had changed in me. By grace, she still offered me love from her guarded and damaged heart. I, knowingly unworthy, accepted and was grateful. I still am.
I didn’t have much time to prepare to be a father since it took me so long to accept it initially. But I did the best with the time that I had. And when she was born, she was born into my hands, and I held her like the miracle she is. And I loved her, and I always will love her. And I am forever grateful to her and her amazing mother, for rescuing me by giving me purpose, reason, and love. And so that I may no longer be a tree dying at the hands of weeds.
