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Showing posts with label Michael Pollan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Pollan. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 27, 2026

How to Change Your Mind


Been thinking a lot today in the wake of finishing Theo Baker's exhilarating book. Ran into this Michael Pollan series on NetFlix tonight. apropos, see "Untying the knot of self."
 
As I've alluded to before, I arrived in the SF Bay Area at the age of 21, settling in in North Beach (Broadway & Columbus). Took my first acid trip in early 1968 in Chinatown at night ("Window Pane"). It was like being in the "Roger Rabbit" movie.
While the music played, you worked by candlelight 
Those San Francisco nights 
You were the best in town 
Just by chance you crossed the diamond with the pearl 
You turned it on the world 
That's when you turned the world around
Did you realize 
That you were a champion in their eyes?

On the hill the stuff was laced with kerosene 
But yours was kitchen-clean 
Everyone stopped to stare at your technicolor motor home 
Every A-Frame had your number on the wall 
You must have had it all 
You'd go to L.A. on a dare and you'd go it alone
Could you see the day?
Could you feel your whole world fall apart and fade away?

Get along, get along, Kid Charlemagne
Get along, Kid Charlemagne

Now your patrons have all left you in the red 
Your low-rent friends are dead 
This life can be very strange 
All those Day-Glo freaks who used to paint the face 
They've joined the human race 
Some things will never change
You are obsolete 
Look at all the white men on the street

Get along, get along, Kid Charlemagne
Get along, Kid Charlemagne

Clean this mess up else we'll all end up in jail 
Those test tubes and the scale 
Just get it all out of here 
Is there gas in the car?
Yes, there's gas in the car 
I think the people down the hall know who you are
'Cause the man is wise 
You are still an outlaw in their eyes

Get along (get along), get along, Kid Charlemagne (get along)
Get along, Kid Charlemagne... 
   
More shortly. Just finished Josh Tyrangiel's new book AI for Good. Lots to mull over.
 

Thursday, January 29, 2026

Untying the knot of Self


Anyone who thinks the contemplative life amounts to a form of quietism or a retreat from the world’s suffering should spend some time shadowing Joan Halifax, the Zen priest and anthropologist. I’d been curious about Halifax for years, ever since I heard about an annual trek that she leads through the mountains of Nepal, bringing a cadre of doctors and dentists to remote mountain villages with little access to health care.

Each summer over the course of two weeks or so, this Nomads Clinic covers more than 100 miles on foot and horseback, at altitudes of nearly 18,000 feet. These “medical mountaineers,” as they’ve been called,  all volunteers, sleep in tents, often in freezing temperatures. But after some 40 annual trips to Nepal—Halifax is normally based in Santa Fe—she recently decided it was time to hang it up. She had just turned 80.

In addition to bringing medical care to remote mountain villages half a world away, Halifax has ministered to the dying in hospice, worked with the homeless in New Mexico, cared for prisoners on death row, and led countless protests for peace. I don’t know if Halifax has shed the last remnants of her ego—she would say she hasn’t—but the selflessness she manifests in the conduct of her life is something to behold, a reminder of what the exploration of human consciousness can lead a person to do and be. This, too, is a Buddhist principle—that overcoming one’s own small self should lead to greater compassion for others, and that the suffering alleviated when we transcend the ego is not only our own.

For more than 30 years, Halifax has been the abbot at Upaya Zen Center, the retreat she founded in Santa Fe in 1990. I’ve had the chance to meet her a couple of times; once, we appeared together on a panel to talk about psychedelics. Halifax was married to the pioneering Czech psychiatrist Stanislav Grof for several years in the 1970s. Working together, they gave transformative doses of LSD to the dying. For a period of time, Halifax regularly took large doses of LSD herself. Her first psychedelic trip, while wandering the streets of Paris in 1968, showed her “that there was beauty behind the beauty I perceived, and that mind was both in here and out there. I was dumbstruck.”

I could relate. After years of curiosity about psychoactive plants, my own experimentation with mushrooms and LSD in recent years fundamentally changed the way I understand the mysteries of consciousness and the self. So in 2024, I emailed Halifax to see if I might pay a visit to Upaya. My idea was to spend a week or so in residence, meditating with the aspiring monks, performing monkish chores, interviewing Halifax, and seeing if I could make a little more progress untying the knot of self…
[Michael Pollan]
From Michael's forthcoming book (below, left).
 
 
On the right, above; his prior book. Tangentially apropos topic.
 
I would also recommend this awesome book for a bit of context.
 

yaje...

It is a winter’s night in Rio de Janeiro, 1987. It is raining and the boulevard in front of the Copacabana Hotel is deserted. The road is slick and shining in the light of the street-lamps. My wife, Trudie, and I are sheltering beneath an umbrella, while high above our heads two seagulls wheel recklessly in the wind; and the sea is a roaring threat in the darkness. A small car pulls up to the curbside. There are two figures silhouetted in the front seat, and an opened rear door beckons us inside. 

A series of discreet phone calls have secured us an invitation to a religious ceremony in a church somewhere in the jungles that surround the great city. Our drivers, a man and a woman, tell us only that the church is located about an hour and a half from the Copacabana, that we will be looked after, and we shouldn’t worry. The church, while nominally Christian, is the home of a syncretic religious group that uses as its core sacrament an ancient medicine derived from plant materials known as ayahuasca, and it is said to induce extraordinary and profound visions…

(Musician) Sting. Broken Music: A Memoir (pp. 1-2). (Function). Kindle Edition.

More to come...