It is 420 today so I thought it might be appropriate to reminisce about weed in celebration of this holiday. Cannabis has been a lot of things to me over the years. It began as a means of personal exploration. It became the gateway to friendships and it has been the destroyer of some (rather toxic) relationships. It brings me to a calm state of mind and it has terrorized me on a few occasions. It is medicine and it is inspiration. Above all else, however, getting high is great fun and that is all it needs to be to thoroughly deserve our reverence today and every other day.
I was twelve the first time that I smoked some herb. A family friend had been hired to cut our grass and he decided smoke a little joint to celebrate a job well done. He suddenly had to leave halfway through medicating and he forgot a nice fat roach sitting on his empty soda can. I was a curious kid and I had been wanting to see what wonders waited for me in the high head-space. I took the opportunity that had presented itself and I smoked the roughly half-joint that was calling to me after being forgotten by its owner. Nothing happened. I was one of those people who didn't get high the first time but I sure as hell got high the second, third, and fourth time and I grew to love the substance and the mental exploration that it helped to facilitate.
A couple of years went by and I was a full on stoner but I kept my hobby a secret from others because "marijuana is an illegal drug;" little did I know that it would soon open the door to a great number of friendships and an increased social standing among my peers. I finally decided to open up about my love of cannabis to another student in my class after he seemed as unimpressed by our P.E. coach's anti-cannabis propaganda speech as I was. I told him I would bring a little joint the next day so that we could smoke in the park after school and a beautiful friendship that lasted for a decade was born (we have since lost touch). The same sort of situation repeated itself over and over again and by the time I reached high school, I had gone from an awkward, chubby, outsider to being welcomed into a diverse array of social groups as though I had always belonged as a part of them.
Weed giveth and weed taketh away. I also credit cannabis with helping to end a rather toxic romantic relationship. I dated a very attractive girl when I was nineteen. I was pretty fit then too and each of us thought the other was "hot" (which is why we started dating) but that is where our commonalities ended. I was pretty similar to how I am now. I didn't like the bullshit that society tries to make us think is important. I had already seen that we are lied to by propagandists (about cannabis, wars, economic policy, and everything else under the sun). She, on the other hand, happily bathed herself in the bullshit that I had rejected and that caused a lot of little arguments and a few big ones. Finally, the propaganda had gotten to her and she began to believe that "marijuana" is the reason that I didn't go to church, didn't support George W. Bush, and didn't concern myself with the pointless fashion trends and the awful "reality" shows that were in vogue at the time. "It couldn't be his principals, values, and beliefs so it must be that dirty marijuana," she likely thought when she decided to gave me an ultimatum. It was her or weed and I (correctly) chose my true love, weed.
Cannabis has been a calming medicine and a bringer of terror. The medicine angle is obvious. Cannabis has helped me relieve extreme stress and it has reduced psychical pain from the few serious injuries that I have sustained in the past. I can get myself worked up at times and having something to reduce those unpleasant feelings is a "godsend" when I need my head to be clear and unburdened for some important task. I have a bad knee and it hurts every now and then and weed prevents the need for more potent and more dangerous pain management drugs. Paradoxically, weed can, on occasion, give me a really bad "trip." If I eat a little too much a little too fast, this medicine can have the opposite of it's typical calming effect. I spiral into a mild panic attack, hold my blanket tight to my chin, and try to distract my self with T.V. and soda while I jump at all the little noises that come from of the big, scary world outside of my living room. "Is that a bird chirping in the tree, or is it cops coming claim me for committing this 'crime,'" I utter as I rock back and forth on my sofa while YouTube endlessly autoplays increasingly horrible music and my Coca-Cola slowly goes flat in its can.
Cannabis is fun and I think that is what really matters. It was fun when it was medicine and it was fun when it was a social drug. It was fun smoking a joint while I told that awful girlfriend that I choose weed instead of her. Even the panic attacks are fun in that roller coaster sort of way. Cannabis consumers and advocates often get caught up trying to justify our love of this wonderful plant to the "squares" who oppose its use but I don't think that we should have to do that. We smoke it or eat it because we like to or want to and that is enough, in my mind. We should all be free to feel good or excited, to have relief, or to put our minds at ease and weed allows us to do those things more readily. To me, those are motivations that should require no justification to be given to the authoritarian assholes who seem to run this world (poorly, I might add). Spark up a joint, if that's what floats your boat, and say fuck the authorities with me.
Peace.
All the images in this post are sourced from the free image website, unsplash.com.