It’s probably fair to say that I was in on the beginnings of the contemporary Cannabis revolution, since I wrote the “Cultivators Handbook of Marijuana” in 1968. So, I am as happy as most other fair-minded people over the (almost) final liberation of this great natural gift, in spite of the noxious efforts of pathetic, twisted souls gathered together in government agencies and corporations to first suppress and then exploit it for their private political and economic benefit. Our planet has been good to people, giving us vast riches that unfortunately, for the most part, we seem to take for granted, as though this is all our birthright to use and exploit as we see fit. But we are learning.
I thought that I knew the true nature of the gift of Cannabis. I had discovered Cannabis when I was young, and it had changed my mind from an unfocused, struggling half-awake consciousness to a consciousness that could think clearly, discover and appreciate insights, see through and beyond illusions, deceptions and lies, and find and express truth and beauty in places where I would never before have been inspired to search, much less recognize those rare gems when they were put before me by the spirit in my mind.
In short, I thought that the gift of Cannabis was the heightened consciousness that I could achieve as long as I was moderate in its use and careful not to assume that it would always work for me, like some dependable mechanical device. By that I mean found that I could not just smoke it, lay back, and let it do the work of thinking and gaining insight for me. I was lucky enough to discover that smoking Cannabis and automatically receiving the grace of consciousness was no more possible than simply picking up a hammer and watching it build a house for me while I lay back and congratulated myself on my skills.
Attaining and then understanding and employing consciousness for the benefit of self and others is hard work, and Cannabis is one of the very best tools that Mother Earth has put in the hands of humans to use in this endeavor, but it is not magic. It doesn’t just happen – although at first, when a young person encounters Cannabis, it certainly seems that way. Ideas begin to flow, the underlying structures and beauty of music appears, colors and shapes reveal themselves, our bodies suddenly become fully sensate, and truth and beauty seem to be everywhere we look.
But that is a friendly illusion, and it does not last. Soon, if you are fortunate, you realize that what seemed to be a pure gift when you were young must become a consciously wielded tool as you grow older. Discoveries come harder and must be validated in the real world, which usually isn’t friendly to real discoveries because they upset the way things “are supposed to be”. Great ideas must be expressed so that they can be communicated effectively in terms that others cannot only understand, but so that they can see why they should care. Ideas are no longer something solitary – for an idea to come alive others must grasp it and be moved by it. It must change lives.
I thought that I understood all this, and that in doing so I had fully understood the nature of the gift of Cannabis. But I was very, very wrong. Although the gift of enhanced consciousness remains, in my mind, one of the great gifts of this sacred plant, it is the gift of natural medicine that marks Cannabis as a truly profound grace bestowed by Mother Earth upon her people, and am not ashamed to admit that I have only recently discovered this truth. It humbles me, once again, to find that I have lived a life best described by the Amish observation: “Too soon old; too late smart.”
Here’s the story.
My wife and life companion has always been the smartest, most vital, strongest, most loving and caring person I have ever been graced to know. Up until a few years ago her health, while not perfect, was always good. A small person, she could perform physical feats that would make big men strain and weep. And she was emotionally resilient, scrupulously honest, rigorously fair, and had an unfailing bullshit detector. Then in her late fifties she had a health crisis and, thinking that we were doing the right thing, we allowed doctors to do what they confidently said was necessary, which included dosing her with a cocktail of antibiotics. Though we had told them specifically which antibiotics we knew would be harmful, because of her childhood experiences, they were careless and stupid, and she wound up with a destroyed gut.
That was the beginning of years of suffering – SIBO, IBS, Barrett’s esophagus, leaky gut and worst of all, malnutrition. Her body could no longer tolerate almost all foods. Grains, dairy, citrus and most other fruit, many vegetables including legumes. No “nutritional supplements” worked – many of them were poison, especially zinc and other metals. No bread, no pasta, no shellfish and ultimately only one or two kinds of fish, no poultry or eggs. There is a long list of foods that cannot even touch her lips or she will have days of cramping, sweating, joint-wracking pain. And no sleep, or very little sleep. Failing energy, fading vision, and her passion for creating beauty only faintly present on good days.
She beat the SIBO and IBS and she beat Barrett’s. The Doctors didn’t believe that, although it was confirmed by pathology tissue samples. That never happens, they said. Our initial diagnosis must have been wrong. Actually, we pointed out, your initial diagnosis was based on lab tissue pathology reports. Lots of head-scratching and hemming and hawing. My wife had done her own research after the doctors had pronounced her incurable, and found an American doctor hounded out of the country by his peers because his treatment for Barrett’s worked, and worst of all, it was cheap. She got in touch with him in France, did what he told her to do, and got complete remission. End of story. Fuck those murderous idiots.
But food and sleep have eluded anything she tried. Through iron will she has managed to find the dozen or so foods that she can eat, and we have survived. She keeps making art when she can, and our days are filled with loving each other, laughing at the small wonders of life, and dreaming of better days.
Now, finally, although many will say that we should have known earlier, we have found what appears to be true hope. It is a gift from Cannabis, and its name is Cannabidiol or CBD.
Without overwhelming you with details, at age 70, after years of suffering that we both thought would continue unto death, my wife began taking 40 mg daily of organic, high quality CBD oil in capsules. Although years of suffering and many false starts, it appears that CBD is working. Whether our hopes will last long-term remains to be seen. But her gut pains after every meal, and even after drinking water, have stopped completely. Her digestion and bowels are no longer a source of continual agony. Her appetite is better, although we are still both afraid for her to do something really dangerous like eat an egg or a piece of toast. She is sleeping a full night of restful sleep, every night. She no longer twitches and moans in her sleep. Her eyes are bright all day, and her voice is strong. It is too early to know if her boundless energy, her ability to tolerate normal food, or her pleasure in art will fully return, but even if not, just the relief she has been given so far is a gift beyond measure.
The reason that I am telling this story is to say to you that much of what you are reading and hearing about the medicinal value of CBD oil is true.
If you or someone you love is suffering from any of the diseases or conditions that research is now saying might be helped by CBD then run, don’t walk to the nearest place where you can buy high-quality, laboratory-tested, organic, non-chemically extracted CBD oil and try it.
May it help to heal you or one who you love. It certainly cannot hurt – there are no side-effects. It is a true natural medicine.
CBD is a gift from Mother Earth even greater than THC, and Cannabis is without doubt one of the greatest apothecaries of healing medicine ever given into human hands by the Great Spirit.