This Is Your Mind on Plants

Pollan explains that mescaline is a fairly unknown psychedelic that is not as well-known as other such drugs like Ayahuasca or LSD. Reading about Huxley’s experiences with this drug helps him to understand how it is different from the other psychedelics; it does not tend to create hallucinations but instead deepens one’s observations about the world around them. Pollan explains that our usual perceptions are limited to those our brains feel are useful to our survival, and mescaline enables us to open the “doors of perception” and experience the rich detail in even the most familiar environment (168). The author feels that these qualities make mescaline a particularly apt drug to try during lockdown. Pollan notes that a person’s preconceived ideas and cultural background will inform any experience they have while using mescaline. For example, Huxley was reminded of certain figures from Western culture such as Van Gogh and Botticelli.

The history of Mescaline use by Indigenous Americans stretches back 6,000 years, making it particularly fascinating for many Western outsiders. When French writer Antonin Artaud wanted to try mescaline in the early 20th century, he was told by an Indigenous man that this substance was only meant for his people not whites since it was a way to communicate with the spirits. Pollan claims that different perceptions of mescaline persist in Indigenous American versus settler American culture, as each group has their own “uses and meaning” for the same substance (170). Pollan seeks to understand these differences in perception and compare Huxley’s account with Indigenous Americans’ experiences with mescaline.

The author reports that after Aldous Huxley wrote his book, mescaline seemed to vanish. Meanwhile, Indigenous American use of peyote only increased, and peyote cacti are in worryingly short supply in their native Texas ecosystems. Among US scientists there are no studies on mescaline, “even in the midst of a renaissance of scientific research into psychedelics” (171). With further research Pollan finds that in the community of psychedelic users, people greatly appreciate mescaline and describe it as a gentle and warm drug, or medicine as many people call it. One elder in the community considers mescaline “the king of the materials” but acknowledges that its 14-hour active period is a commitment for the user and is perhaps why it is less popular than other psychedelics. Mescaline also requires a higher dosage to be effective (half a gram of mescaline versus a microgram of LSD, for example), and higher quantities means a higher risk for those manufacturing, selling it, and possessing it. Pollan thinks this is another reason it is difficult to come by in comparison to other psychedelics in a nation where drug crimes are prosecuted based on the quantity you have.

Indigenous Americans have been allowed to harvest and use peyote since President Clinton authorized the American Indian Religious Freedom Act in 1994, which also made it a crime for non-Indigenous people. Unfortunately, peyote is not as plentiful as it once was, but San Pedro, a South American cactus with the same psychedelic, is increasingly present in California gardens. Pollan wonders if finding a San Pedro cactus is a better way to experience mescaline.

Once Pollan knows more about the San Pedro cactus, he realizes he has one growing in his own garden, which he had grown from a cutting several years earlier, but the person who gifted him the cutting had called it a Wachuma cactus. The plant, called the Wachuma cactus by the Quechua people of Peru, had been renamed San Pedro after the Catholic saint who admits people to heaven in the hopes of making it more acceptable to Spanish colonizers. Pollan learns more about the mysterious taxonomy of the San Pedro cactus from an enthusiast named Keeper Trout. Trout informs Pollan that the Trichocereus genus of cacti have significant amounts of mescaline, and as a result a wealthy cactus collector known as DZ once tried to buy up all of the Trichocereus cacti in America to keep other people from having any of it. DZ’s goal may have been to prevent the Wachuma from being targeted as an illicit substance, which would then block collector’s access to the plants. After some time DZ sold off his collection, causing the Trichocereus cacti to proliferate and hybridize throughout California. Though the San Pedro cactus is still legal to grow, once you process the plant’s flesh into mescaline it is technically an illicit substance and therefore a crime. Pollan receives a recipe from Trout for making mescaline from the San Pedro cactus, which requires a large section of cactus just for one person. Pollan’s cactus only has enough for one, so he decides to wait until the cactus is larger before trying to make the mescaline.

Pollan receives a peyote cactus as a gift from a woman who once lived in a commune in Northern California. Many such communes, many of which date back to the 1970s, admired Indigenous Americans’ relationship with the land, sense of community, and spirituality. As such, many communards experimented with peyote to emulate Indigenous American communities, enjoying the fact that this was an organic and natural source of psychedelics, unlike the synthetic LSD. However, the communards soon realized that their rituals were very different from Native American peyote ceremonies and stopped trying to authenticate their practices. Pollan explains that the peyote cactus can take up to 15 years to mature into a harvestable “button” for processing and ingesting (183). The author takes his new cactus home with him, an act he says turns his garden into an “illicit drug lab” (183).

Pollan learns that cacti likely evolved mescaline as a deterrent to herbivores, who find its taste bitter and repellent. Pollan consults Michael Terry, who is a botanist expert on peyote and works for the Indigenous Peyote Conservation Initiative (IPCI) to ensure access to the plant by the Native American Church. This organization purchased hundreds of acres of land in Texas so Native Americans can harvest their own peyote as part of a pilgrimage rather than rely on government sanctioned harvesters to gather it for them to purchase. It is important to harvest peyote without damaging the rest of the plant, which can regenerate “buttons” for future harvest. Pollan reiterates that this plant is becoming scarcer due to increased consumption in the Native American Church and illegal poaching. Some Native Americans object to the idea of cultivating peyote in greenhouses and then planting it out in nature while others feel this may offer a pragmatic solution to peyote shortages.

There is archaeological evidence of Indigenous American cultures in modern-day Texas using Peyote as far back as 6000 years ago. Similarly, there is also ancient evidence that South American cultures, such as the Chavin, Aztec, Huichol, Tarahumara, and Zacateco, revered San Pedro for its “extraordinary powers” (188). The Spanish conquistadors found the Indigenous relationship with San Pedro to be pagan and sinful and discouraged its use by banning it (making it the first drug to ever be banned in North America). Meanwhile the Indigenous inhabitants of North and South America used mescaline to foresee battles, predict the weather, or understand illness and also used it in group ceremonies where they would sing and dance together through the night. At the end, an animal would be sacrificed and feasted on.

Pollan explains that James Mooney, an anthropologist working for the Smithsonian Institution in the late 19th century was the first white man to observe an Indigenous American peyote ceremony. Mooney wanted to record as much information as possible about Indigenous culture, as many practices were in decline due to the US government’s policy of forced assimilation in boarding schools. Two ceremonial practices emerged in the late 1800s, and Mooney witnessed both: the Ghost Dance, and the peyote ceremony. The Ghost Dance was initiated by a man named Jack Wilson, or Wovoka, who claimed he had a vision that a new dance would help God deliver Indigenous Americans to a new world—one without colonizers. To practice the Ghost Dance communities would dance and sing for hours, experiencing trances. Threatened by this incomprehensible practice, which they believed would lead to an Indigenous uprising against white people, the police shot Lakota spiritual leader Sitting Bull and massacred over 250 Indigenous Americans at Wounded Knee Creek. This put an end to the Ghost Dance.

At around this same time an inter-tribal religion began to take shape as Indigenous American tribes had more contact with each other and an increasing solidarity against the oppression they were facing. In sharp contrast to the Ghost Dance, peyote ceremonies were calm, took place indoors in a teepee, and had a moralizing purpose more similar to a Christian sermon. Quanah Parker, a half-Comanche and half-white man, encouraged the Indigenous American community to embrace peyote. Parker felt that using peyote had helped him heal after being gored by a bull and recognized its potential as a “ritual of accommodation” to Indigenous Americans’ new reality of life on reserves (194). Pollan likens Parker to Johnny Appleseed since he harvested and spread peyote across Indigenous American territory. While the government disapproved of the plant, Parker argued that it could be used for Christian purposes and spoke about how he communicated with Jesus while using it. James Mooney’s accounts of peyote ceremonies from this time help illuminate the ritual. Under the constant supervision of a roadman, fire chief, drum chief, and cedarman, participants would sit cross legged in front of a fire and eat as many peyote buttons as they chose while listening to drumming and song. The participants would pray for those who are ill, and the ceremony would continue until sunrise. Christian missionaries were horrified by these practices, which they equated with other sinful substances such as alcohol and lobbied the government to prohibit it.

However, the Indigenous American community successfully incorporated their Native American Church in 1918, giving their practices some legitimacy and protection in the eyes of the law. This did not last long, however, as peyote was increasingly scrutinized during the Prohibition era and was later demonized again during the 1960s and 1970s as part of the war on drugs. Native American Church members were arrested by law enforcement, who seized their peyote. Later, in 1990, the Native American Church lost its right to practice its religion when Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia essentially ignored the standard of needing compelling state interest to deny First Amendment rights for someone attempting to practice their religion and ruled that a man who had lost his job because he refused to stop attending Native American Church meetings was legally terminated. This ruling severely undermining Indigenous American rights and religious freedom in America in general. Pollan notes the irony of how America was founded for the purpose of religious freedom and yet took it away from a community who have always lived here. The Native American Church lobbied the government to pass a law that clearly protected their right to use peyote, and their efforts were finally successful when Clinton passed such a law in 1994.

Pollan reports that many Indigenous Americans who have experienced the peyote ceremony consider it necessary to their spiritual practice and hold it responsible for healing both mental and physical ailments. He acknowledges his own inherent bias in evaluating the ceremony, admitting that he feels uncertain he will ever fully understand the full meaning of the peyote ceremony for Indigenous Americans. Many Indigenous Americans who Pollan reached out to in his research felt ambivalent in sharing details about this precious medicine with him and questioned what good would come of sharing this information with a white outsider. Pollan acknowledges the validity of this wariness and pursued topics outside of what exactly occurs in peyote ceremonies. Steve Benally, a Navajo elder and founding member of the Indigenous Peyote Conservation Initiative, shared his concern that without strict laws and conservation efforts peyote would be lost to the next generation of Indigenous Americans.

Pollan explains that Benally’s view stands in contrast to the recent movement called Decrim Nature, which has successfully lobbied local authorities to consider violations of drug laws involving psychedelics as their lowest priority. The Decrim Nature movement maintains that the government should never criminalize access to any plant, including peyote. Another member of the Native American Church, Dawn Davis, called Decrim Nature a “slap in the face” to Indigenous people (20) since their interference could result in the plant being listed as an endangered species, which would further limit Indigenous access. Davis urges people outside of the Indigenous American community to not try to poach or use peyote in any way to conserve the remaining wild plants. After having these conversations, Pollan realizes that when non-Indigenous Americans use peyote, they are not just culturally appropriating, they are also endangering the existence of something that exists in “the realm of finite, material things,” and only adding to the list of physical things that have been taken from Indigenous people (207). Speaking to the President of the Native American Church of South Dakota Sandor Iron Rope helps Pollan understand more about why peyote is considered sacred. Pollan quotes his conversation with Iron Rope at length, giving him pages of space to articulate how Indigenous Americans conceive of peyote as an ancestor and a spirit. Iron Rope says, “But this medicine is a mirror that allows you to see inside yourself, into the core of your heart and spirit. The peyote knows you” (209). Iron Rope explains that shared prayer is an essential part of the peyote ceremony and that one must enter the teepee with an open mind. The peyote as medicine will find the ailments, such as physical illnesses, divorce, abuse, or addiction, and help them heal. Iron Rope impresses upon Pollan the idea that respect can be expressed by leaving sacred things alone and that someday when Pollan can join a peyote ceremony beside Indigenous Americans he will better understand the importance of the plant.

Searching for a more familiar take on the subject, Pollan cites Joseph D. Calabrese, an anthropologist and psychologist who lived among the Navajo for two years and was allowed to participate in peyote ceremonies. He reports that Indigenous Americans view peyote as an omniscient spirit that makes people aware of their misdeeds. Children are socialized from a young age to view the plant this way. Calabrese explains that the use of peyote began as a way to try to heal families and their connection to the land as well as to discourage alcohol use, prompting Pollan to claim that the Native American Church’s use of peyote is conservative compared to the broader American culture’s use of psychedelics during their heyday in the 1960s. Pollan builds on this to argue that the Western view of drug use is simplistic since people who use drugs or plant medicines are not always doing so for an escape from reality or to deaden their senses. Instead of representing a moral failure, many people who use such plants do so to try to heal or gain understanding about themselves. Pollan also critiques the Western distinction between religion and healing, which he feels prevents us from understanding how intertwined these pursuits are in other cultures. Calabrese argues that peyote ceremonies are effective due to the combination of the state of psychological flexibility peyote engenders in people and the fact that people have the support of their community members, who are sharing in the same “altered state of consciousness” (212).

Finally, Pollan tries mescaline himself in the form of synthetic pills obtained through a friend. His wife sits with him during his experience. He waits impatiently to feel the effects and slowly begins to feel different. He is suddenly repulsed by his book and much more interested in observing everything around him. He writes, “I was captivated by it all, and could not imagine ever wanting to do anything but devour with my eyes all that there was to see” (215). Pollan feels like a “helpless captive” of the present moment, as he is engrossed with his immediate reality (215). Unlike other psychedelics, mescaline did not animate the world and change its appearance; it simply helped Pollan feel intensely interested in every detail of it. Eventually Pollan feels overwhelmed by the amount of detail he is taking in and closes his eyes. However, in doing so he feels he is losing control of his thoughts and opens his eyes again. This prompts the “floodgates of emotion” to open, as Pollan thinks of those close to him who have passed away and people’s suffering in general (220). The author then feels that peak of the mescaline has passed, and he enjoys looking at the view, sitting with his wife, and listening to music, with all his senses enhanced. He agrees with Sandor Iron Rope that the mescaline held up a mirror to Pollan, showing him that “everything that I needed to learn was not on the other side of it, but right here in front of me, and it had been here all along” (223).

Still eager to participate in some kind of ceremony involving mescaline, Pollan meets with Taloma, an American woman who has trained as a medicine healer with Wachuma. Taloma underwent training with Indigenous Americans and learned about healing practices, such as vision quests and sweat lodges. After surviving a devastating car accident and working for 20 years as an apprentice, Taloma began to lead her own medicine ceremonies. Pollan assists Taloma in harvesting the Wachuma, and he and his wife Judith prepare for their ceremony by meeting their group and sharing their intentions for their participation. Unfortunately, before the ceremony day a massive wildfire strikes their region of California, delaying the ceremony. Pollan admits he is distressed at the continuing upset of the COVID pandemic and now the threat of a wildfire in the area.

Pollan admits that he originally set out on an academic journey of understanding mescaline and not seeking healing, which is what the medicine Wachuma is for. He shares his intention in the ceremony as “What can Wachuma teach me about my mind?” and that he added he would like to live more in his heart and less in his head (228). In reflecting about the terrible year the world had in 2020, Pollan ponders if trauma is a dramatic event or can, as some psychologists argue, be the result of an ongoing “sense of helplessness” (229). One analogy is the feeling of being trapped in the backseat with a drunk person at the wheel. Pollan acknowledges that the year has been traumatic for him, and he wants to write a new prayer “asking frankly for help” (229).

Taloma shows Pollan how to cook Wachuma tea and explains that the plant is gentle and “helps to reveal what is already there” (230). Taloma coaches Pollan through the lengthy process of removing the flesh of the Wachuma from its skin and then boils it in a pot. Taloma lights sage and smudges the cactus pot. Taloma prays and sings over the cactus and leaves, telling Pollan to boil the cactus and cook it for three days before straining and refrigerating it.

Pollan later has a Zoom meeting with Taloma’s teacher Don Victor, who shares that Wachuma is a teacher that helps our three selves—the mental, physical, and spiritual—to “vibrate at a higher frequency” and experience light (235).

Pollan shares his frustrations in being unable to participate in a Wachuma ceremony, and Don Victor advises him to experience Wachuma solo with a “clear intention and prayer” (236).

Taloma decides to go ahead with a full ceremony. When Pollan arrives, he is impressed with the vast array of materials from nature she has used to decorate the room, ranging from bear and coyote skins to seed pods and gourds. He learns that each participant must drink three cups of Wachuma and not speak to each other during the ceremony. It is also important to not eat or drink during the night and only leave to use the washroom. After two hours of preparatory talks and prayers, each participant drank their first cup of Wachuma. Pollan found his drink bitter but “remarkably gentle” and feels “how the medicine softens the edges of self and world in a way that amplifies the power of the ritual by taking us out of ordinary time, and allowing us to suspend disbelief” (239-40).

Pollan feels sobered by his wife Judith’s emotional journey with the Wachuma, and he worries for her and regrets that he is not allowed to speak to her. Judith struggles with her relationship with her deceased father and had seen him in a previous ceremony as well. When Judith requests a tobacco ceremony Pollan finds it “hard to watch” as his wife “seemingly possessed, launched into some kind of spastic dance” (243). This somewhat frightening experience helps Pollan understand the value of engaging with these medicines in a group, as everyone lowers their guard and is open to the idea of transformation.

Pollan requests more Wachuma and resumes his experience. He tries to focus on the three forgivenesses: asking for forgiveness from others, offering forgiveness to others, and forgiving yourself. After doing so Pollan feels immense gratitude and that “despair no longer felt like an option” despite the trying year he has had (245). To conclude the ceremony, Taloma gives a heartfelt talk about healing humans’ relationship with nature. The participants then pass a talking stick and share their experiences during the night; many people talk about their visions of their parents and Judith commits to not carrying her father’s emotional pain any longer. Taloma tells the group that the “spirit of the plant is now inside you forever” and that they can ask for help from it at any time (247).