The Cathedral, The Tricksters, and The Smile: A DMT Journey Through Jungian Alchemy

Trip Report: 🃏The Cathedral of Jesters🃏

It didn’t feel like a breakthrough to another dimension—it felt like a return to something ancient and deeply embedded. As the DMT took hold, I found myself inside a vast "medieval cathedral", but it wasn’t made of stone—it pulsed with living geometry, shifting fractals, and sacred complexity.

All around me danced jester-like entities, weaving intricate patterns into the air with their movements. Their presence was intense—big smiles stretched wide with spiked teeth, their faces hovering somewhere between comedy and menace. They looked evil, but they weren’t. They weren’t threatening. Just... powerful, aware, and impossibly focused on me.

Above and all around me was a colossal female jester. Her body wasn’t separate from the cathedral—she was the cathedral. Her limbs formed arches; her body was the structure’s very firmament. To my left, her head, watching me—massive, still, smiling. Her expression, too, held that strange duality: seemingly dark, but completely non-threatening. She wasn’t there to harm. She was simply present and aware.

I realized I was the center of their attention. Not in a narcissistic sense, but as if I were a figure in a sacred drama. Something was unfolding around me and through me. And then, it began:

I would dissolve into the scene—becoming geometry, color, one of them dancing. Then, in an instant, I would snap back—observer once more. Then dissolve again. Over and over. Like breathing. Like ritual. I became the pattern, then the observer, in a looping, dizzying experience that twisted my sense of body and self into something unfamiliar, yet sacred.

It wasn’t frightening. It was profound. A dance of form and formlessness. A revelation dressed in masks and fractals.

🌌Beyond the Veil🌌

This wasn’t just a trip. It wasn’t a hallucination in the usual psychedelic sense. It was a deeply symbolic, immersive experience that felt like stepping into an ancient myth — not one I read or heard, but one that lived inside me. This DMT journey took me through a cathedral of the mind and soul, revealing archetypes, alchemical forces, and a living drama I could only describe later using the symbolic lens of Jungian psychology and alchemy.

Chapter 1: ⛪️The Cathedral as the Self and the Sacred Vessel⛪️

The setting of my journey was no abstract kaleidoscope. It was a cathedral: towering, sacred, and ancient. The stained glass shimmered with intelligent fractals. The arches pulsed with an awareness I could feel. Every detail radiated significance.

In Jungian terms, this cathedral was the "Self" — the totality of my psyche, both conscious and unconscious, manifested in sacred form. But it also reflected the alchemical vessel, or "vas hermeticum", the sealed container where transformation takes place. My consciousness had become the crucible.

This was the beginning of "Nigredo", the blackening. The ego must break down. The known must dissolve. I was entering the first phase of the Great Work.

Chapter 2: 🃏The Tricksters – Shadow and Sacred Fire🃏

Then came the jesters. They danced, they laughed, they shaped reality with their movements. Their grins were jagged, their presence uncanny. They looked evil, but they weren’t. They were true.

Jung would call them manifestations of the Trickster Archetype — chaotic beings that mock, reveal, and catalyze change. Tricksters show up when transformation is near. They don’t comfort; they provoke.

And beneath that surface humor was the "Shadow": the parts of myself I deny, repress, or fear. These entities forced me to look at them — not to defeat them, but to integrate them.

In alchemy, the Trickster is the fire that purifies. Their dance was the psychic flame of "solve et coagula" — dissolve and recombine. They were "working" on me.

Chapter 3: ♀️The Female Jester – The Great Mother and the Anima♀️

To my left, a massive presence emerged: a female jester, whose body was part of the cathedral. Her arms were arches. Her eyes were stained glass. Her face smiled with terrifying serenity. She watched me, not with love or malice, but with knowing.

This was the Great Mother Archetype — the vast feminine that births, contains, and destroys. She was the world. But she was also my Anima— the unconscious feminine within me, acting as guide and mediator to deeper layers of Self.

She is linked to the "Mercurial water" of alchemy — reflective, fluid, shifting. She contains the transformation. She is the transformation.

Chapter 4: 🕺Ego Dissolution and the Dance of Identity🕺

I became part of the scene. Then I pulled back and observed. Then I was the cathedral. Then I was a dancer. Then I was an observer again. This back-and-forth was dizzying, beautiful, disorienting.

In Jungian language, I was moving along the "ego-Self axis". My identity was breaking down and re-forming in real-time. I was experiencing both "Nigredo" (ego death) and "Albedo" (illumination, purification).

Each cycle brought me closer to "Rubedo" — the reddening, the return of the integrated Self. This was spiritual alchemy in motion.

Chapter 5: 🦸‍♀️The Hero's Moment – Center of the Mystery🦸‍♀️

Throughout the vision, I was the focus. Not in a self-centered way, but ritually. The entities watched me. The cathedral breathed around me. The light focused on me.

This is the call of the Hero Archetype — not the conquering hero, but the one who descends, endures, and emerges transformed. I was undergoing an *initiation. The Tricksters were my initiators. The Mother was the space. The Self was the goal.

In alchemy, the King must die and be reborn. I was being dismembered, atomized, reassembled. The psychic gold was being forged within.

Conclusion: ✨️Integration and Afterglow✨️

When I returned, I felt raw, rewired, and strangely whole. This wasn’t just a psychedelic journey. It was a descent into the archetypal furnace, a walk through the alchemical cathedral of my soul.

Jung said, "One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious."

The jesters were the darkness. The Mother was the mirror. The cathedral was my Self.

And the smile? That was eternity, grinning.

Every soul walks its own spiral path.

If you've glimpsed something beyond the veil—whether familiar or strange—feel free to leave a message in the comments. The sacred conversation is part of the work.