"Why don’t you come with me, little girl…?"


How long did you think it was gonna take, for me to quote a Steppenwolf song in this blog? For those of you born yesterday, this is the tag line to “Magic Carpet Ride.” Cynics will insist the invitation is to take a drug trip; but a close examination of the lyrics will reveal it to be a perfect trance induction–an invitation to go into Alpha, because “…you don’t know what we can find.”

We’re off on our own not-quite-magic-carpet-ride (on Southwest Airlines) this week, to visit the offspring, so Lili and the Cats are off to the Ashram, where they will be lovingly looked after (and perhaps shown the way to Enlightenment). I think they spend most of the time in Alpha–especially the cats. Lili stands down from her mission to guard us (since we’re not there) and “her” property (since she’s not there…she’s offsight); and it is reported that she becomes a carefree, gregarious pack member under those circumstances.

Meanwhile, a couple of pointers for how to use Alpha, once you reach the destination of your choice. To lessen your perception of various kinds of pain, you might want to think in terms of dreamwork, and construct a plotline that “accounts” for the unpleasant sensation, but tones it way down. Thus, instead of the “ravening wolf” of a root canal procedure, I transform the experience into a brisk canter on Owen the Hanoverian, on a cool Michigan morning, where sucking in the cold air creates a mild tingling sensation in all my teeth. Seriously. A magic carpet ride on my beloved horse is what I “take,” instead of whatever anesthetic the dentist is offering. I’ve had to convince all my dentists since 1978, that I will be just fine, they need not worry…but they can’t seem to stop themselves from blurting out, “Boy, that’s gotta hurt! Doesn’t it?”

But, what about the lads in Keele, and our friend Herb Malinoff, who insist that the pain center’s message must be acknowledged, or it will just “turn up the volume”? I haven’t found this to be a problem, personally; but I would be prepared to say a mental “Roger that,” (or “F&#* that!”)–to “thank my amygdalar dog” for warning me of danger–and then I’m going to “climb aboard Owen,” and take that “magic carpet ride.”

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Filed under altered states, limbic system, pain reduction

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