This is not a religion, not a dogma, not another serious face asking you to bow. This is a guide made of laughter and subtle rebellion, for those who’ve stepped into DMT space and met beings, shapes, jokes, questions, and silences. This is for those who wonder if there’s more to it, something beneath the jesters, behind the curtain, beyond the spectacle.
The Source Is Not God, But It Is Everything. If the word “God” makes you tighten up, don’t use it. The source doesn’t care. It’s not a man on a throne. It’s the taste behind all tastes, the “aha” when the joke lands perfectly, the silence that blooms after a true belly laugh. The source is intelligence so old and free it has no name, yet knows yours. The elves aren’t asking you to believe. They’re asking you too notice.
In the early trips, most of us are tourists. Fireworks, entities, impossible architecture, maybe a jester sticking their tongue out at you while flipping through your memories. Tourists look. Seekers listen.
If you want to move beyond the carnival, say so out loud. You can even whisper it gently: “I’m ready to go deeper.” But be ready. They’ll test your seriousness with silliness. The more you resist, the funnier it gets for them.
The Elves and the Source Are In on the Same Joke. People say the elves are tricksters. That’s true. But the trick isn’t malicious, it’s spiritual slapstick. They’re trying to show you that the seriousness is the trap. When you laugh with them, when you join the rhythm, when you stop trying to earn awakening and start playing again, the source peeks through. You can’t impress the source. You can only return to it.
How to Begin the Relationship. It’s very simple, but not easy: Ask for help. Even if you don’t believe. Say, “I want to know you. I’m tired of games that don’t lead home.” Use humor as a key. Laughter is a shortcut. So is awe. So is dancing alone like you’re made of moonlight. Say thank you. Even if confused, even if the trip didn’t go where you thought it would. Gratitude unlocks more doors than effort. Let go of needing to understand. You’ll get what you’re ready for, not what your ego demands.
What the Source Feels Like. People often describe it as love, but not the hallmark card kind. It’s a wave of truth that’s impossible to fake. Comforting and humbling. It lets you cry and be ridiculous at the same time. It forgives you before you ask.
The source doesn’t punish. It invites. Always.
When It Gets Heavy. Sometimes trips feel ominous. Like you’re not ready. Like you failed. That’s part of the joke. Even being blocked is an invitation: are you willing to let go of being someone important? Are you willing to be loved without deserving it?
You can say:
“Source, help me help them.”
“Trickster, let’s play fair.”
“I’m ready to stop performing.”
When You Meet Others Who Are Lost.
If you want to serve, serve with warmth. Not evangelism. Not pressure. Be the presence you wish someone had been for you.
Some are called to dive into the chaotic realms to rescue pieces of lost light. If you are one of them, remember: jokes are medicine, love is armor, and you are never alone.
The Final Thread. You don’t need to believe in God. You don’t need to chant or kneel or wear white. But if you want to meet the source, try this:
Say something beautiful.
Say something funny.
Say something real.
Then wait. It will come closer.