Phoenix Garden

We were taking a drive to show my cousin my secret camp spot by the river. We both came prepared to “blast off” but I wasn’t sure yet if I wanted to. I have camped here with my own family many times, so when we arrived all the memories came back much more clear. With that in mind I decided it was as good a time as any to blast off.

We hadn’t brought the hammocks or chairs, so we stayed in the vehicle with all the doors and windows down to get some fresh air and the sounds of nature. I’m sure we looked like a couple of tweakers to anybody else.

I began to take my hits, and at some point as I was in the space between here and full trip, the trees took on a personality again. It felt like they were all looking at me. It felt like they were asking why I was in this metal box and not sitting at their feet. In hindsight, that’s where I should have been. The trees were right.

As the visuals began and I closed my eyes, the first thing I saw was a giant bird coming down at me. It was a phoenix but with the face of a woman. She told me not to be afraid, that she was here to take me and guide me through the experience. I don’t remember the ride, but I was dropped off at a giant garden. The first thing I noticed was everybody and everything there was singing the same song. The gardener, the plants, the animals around us all had the same eyes and were all singing. To me it sounded like buzzing, almost electric, but I recognized it as a song.

The gardener was a giant woman. That is to say I was no taller than the plants she was tending to. She paid me no attention, she was busy doing her work. I began to realize that I was no different than the plants. Each one, like myself, was a separate consciousness.

I love how the imagery played out for me. The phoenix, who represents death and rebirth, takes me to a garden where the young plants are conscious and all from the same source. I also recognized the phoenix with the head of a woman as a mother figure.