I just finished watching the first season of Severance in less than 24 hours, and wowee. I’m frequently disappointed by most new TV shows but can’t recommend this one enough—lots of layers, totally unpredictable, enough weirdness to keep you guessing, and philosophical as hell.
Without giving too much away, the workers go through a medical procedure that severs all memories of their personal lives when they are at work, and all memories of work when they leave the office. At the office, they have no knowledge of who they are outside, if they have families, etc. All they know is that the outside version of themselves makes the choice every day to come to that office.
The whole thing reminded me of the times ayahuasca has wiped my brain clean of any trace of my identity. The first time it happened was definitely the most intense.
I’d initially been taken out to the further edge of the universe where I just sort of marinated in this chaotic psychedelic soup. In the soup, every aspect of my personal history, personality, and understanding of humanity or Earth was washed away. I had no emotions, judgments, or preferences. When I was dropped back into my body, I didn’t even recognize my hands. I had no idea what my entire body was.
Despite this, I started out pretty calm, then became more and more frustrated. I sat there for what felt like hours trying to remember any details of who I was. Was I male or female, adult or child, maybe an animal of some sort? Did I have parents or a family? Was this tent structure I was in where I’d lived my entire life? Who were all of these people around me? Was this an experiment?
Then, out of nowhere, a loud “MEOW,” came out of my mouth. I didn’t even know how I made the noise. It felt familiar but I didn’t know why. So I kept meowing, feeling like each meow was bringing me closer to figuring out who I was.
Then I saw a vision of a big, fluffy, green-eyed cat.
Before I remembered anything else about myself, I remembered that whoever I was lived with this large cat. I remember thinking, “Why would I live with something so scary? I must be so brave to live with this wild animal.”
It was as if my cat was the gateway through which all other memories could come through because after that it was a full-on flood of memories. Who I was, who my parents were, and various defining moments in my life. Even the things in my life I hated or had grieved, I felt grateful for as the memories rushed in. I was so grateful to have ever gone through anything at all.
Since then, ayahuasca has done that to me a few more times but to lesser degrees of intensity. Making me forget absolutely everything, then bringing it all back piece by piece. When I’ve asked why it does this it shows me an old ‘90s Macintosh computer with the words “HARD RESET” on the screen.
It makes sense. We get so attached to positive outcomes and what we think should happen, but most of the valuable learning takes place when we’re seemingly off-course. A hard reset shifts your perspective and detaches you from what should be. A life well-lived is not one devoid of all pain. Even the most painful moments can be beautiful in their own way. On some level, we know this. It’s why we watch heart-breaking, scary, and tragic movies. We are here to experience the full spectrum of aliveness.
Whenever I go through difficult times in my life I try to connect back to that higher version of myself that isn’t attached to any outcomes and doesn’t judge things as good or bad but is just grateful to experience anything at all. I try to trust that version of me is guiding me wherever I’m meant to go and that just because something is painful doesn’t mean it’s bad.
In summary, watch Severance, memory wiping is real, I’m very brave for having a cat, and if you have time, connect to that eternal version of yourself that feels unbelievably lucky just to be here, despite everything.