Is therapy and “self-help” the best or only paradigm for psychedelic culture to flourish? Alnoor Ladha and Martin Kirk offer a critical assessment of humanity and suggest how psychedelic communities can become hubs of social change. “The task is to make kin in lines of inventive connection as a practice of learning to live and die well with each other
Darkness isoften, not the absencebut the blinding presence of light.The colours of creation consolidatedand gifted to night,that heals the marks, the scars,the injuries, the wounds,Gathered through time. There, reside the roots of existenceThere, lie the seeds of CreationThere, rest the wordsin the lap of infinite silenceThere unites death with life.In the dark of nights,in the name of dreamsInto our ears,
At 16, I went to India for a visit with my parents and sisters. I was a rebel, wanted to dye my hair purple, wore tight jeans and had no idea about Hinduism, or the desire to find out. As soon as I got off the plane I felt at home. I was happy that I would not experience racism.
No one could have imagined the behemoth of neoliberal capitalism – the god and engine of modern life – brought to its knees literally within a mere blink in Time. Life as we knew as ‘normal’ will never be that. Too much has been exposed, rendered uncertain as the illusory bulwarks of modernity crumble beneath the glaring spotlight of a
Is therapy and “self-help” the best or only paradigm for psychedelic culture to flourish? Alnoor Ladha and Martin Kirk offer a critical assessment of humanity and suggest how psychedelic communities can become hubs of social change. “The task is to make kin in lines of inventive connection as a practice of learning to live and die well with each other
Darkness isoften, not the absencebut the blinding presence of light.The colours of creation consolidatedand gifted to night,that heals the marks, the scars,the injuries, the wounds,Gathered through time. There, reside the roots of existenceThere, lie the seeds of CreationThere, rest the wordsin the lap of infinite silenceThere unites death with life.In the dark of nights,in the name of dreamsInto our ears,
At 16, I went to India for a visit with my parents and sisters. I was a rebel, wanted to dye my hair purple, wore tight jeans and had no idea about Hinduism, or the desire to find out. As soon as I got off the plane I felt at home. I was happy that I would not experience racism.
No one could have imagined the behemoth of neoliberal capitalism – the god and engine of modern life – brought to its knees literally within a mere blink in Time. Life as we knew as ‘normal’ will never be that. Too much has been exposed, rendered uncertain as the illusory bulwarks of modernity crumble beneath the glaring spotlight of a
© 2022 3rd-Space. All Rights Reserved
Privacy Policy
