My Session w/ Ram Dass

The title sounds crazy, I know. Ram Dass passed away a few years ago, so how was I able to have a session with him? This one will be very whacky, so I get it if you want to stop reading here and pretend like this post never happened.

But if you are interested… read on.

The Microdose & The Tunnel

After several plant medicine ceremonies, I started experimenting with microdoses of psilocybin. I tried it maybe 3–4 times, but honestly, it’s not something that resonates with me. I find these medicines deserve our full honor and attention, and I prefer to sit with them in full-day ceremonies, especially with a shaman or facilitator present.

Nevertheless, I gave microdosing a shot.

On the second try, I found myself mesmerized by my hands. I kind of lost track of everything else and began meditating on my palms. Fast forward ten minutes into a blinking contest with my fingers (which I lost), something very strange happened.

A vision completely took over. I was inside a blue and white tunnel, spinning fast all around me. In this space, a man with a long red beard appeared. He wore pants and a sleeveless tank top. Though everything moved rapidly, he communicated with me slowly, telepathically.

“The way you ALLOW yourself to judge others is the same way you ALLOW yourself to judge yourself.”

He emphasized “allow” because it wasn’t about the judgment itself—it was about the permission we give that voice inside. If you allow yourself to judge others, you’re also allowing that same voice to judge you when the time comes. It was like a tell.

“Stop the judgment by accepting yourself. Once you accept yourself, you accept others.”

That was a direct response to my question: “Okay, so how do I stop judging other people?”

And then I asked, “Well… how do I accept myself?”

“To accept yourself is to let go of the pain.”

The Lesson Lands

That message hit me hard, but it didn’t fully click until recently. This week, I really got it. When you feel the urge to defend yourself or feel hurt, it’s because you’ve attached yourself to the situation. You’re letting something outside of you define who you are.

That attachment? That’s the pain.

And when it's threatened, you react. But life is sacred. I realized that even if I lost my job tomorrow, it wouldn’t change who I am. I am sacred. My life matters. I can let go. I can preserve my energy for myself and my loved ones. I don’t need to take everything so seriously.

The man from the tunnel was right—I was holding on to the pain. Holding on to suffering. Taking things way too seriously and giving away my energy to things that didn’t matter.

Let go. Flow.

Go Into Your Heart

Back in that vision, I asked him to clarify what he meant by “letting go of the pain.”

He didn’t respond with words. He just poked his finger into my chest—right onto my heart—and said, “Go into your heart.”

It was a profound experience.

Before he left, I asked who he was. All I got was a final glimpse of his distinct red beard.

Connecting the Dots

A few weeks later, I had a session with a woman who connects with your higher self. As she spoke to mine, another man appeared with a very specific hairline. She said he matched the great-grandfather I was named after—but he never had a red beard.

So my search continued.

At this point in my life, yes—I had done a few ceremonies and was getting deeper into the spiritual world, but I wasn’t familiar with any of the “big names.” I think I had just discovered Eckhart Tolle via a random YouTube video, but I didn’t resonate with it much at the time.

Then came the algorithm.

A thumbnail popped up—some hippie-looking guy surrounded by people, big smile, bald head, and this massive red beard.

That was it.

I started watching Ram Dass videos non-stop. The energy matched completely. He spoke constantly about the heart space—about letting go. I even had a later experience with him and Maharaji during my second ayahuasca ceremony (which you can read about here), but that was almost a year later.

Ceremony on the Beach

One weekend, I decided to have a mini solo ceremony at the beach. I arrived around 6AM, before the crowds, and took half a recommended dose of plant medicine—something light.

As it kicked in, the world got loud. Like, really loud. The crashing waves, the wind—I felt panicked.

I put on my AirPods, trying to find music to help. Song after song made it worse—until I came across an album by East Forest. It was house music layered over Ram Dass’ speeches. The album art pulled me in, and I just knew this was it.

I hit play—and everything calmed.

The waves disappeared. The wind softened. The sun turned into a golden woman, inviting me into a space beyond time.

And there was Ram Dass, smiling, waiting.

Song: Electronic Sea (ft. Stic.man)

The first song we listened to together had to do with technology. A man rapped about how tech is hurting us, intercut with Ram Dass speaking.

Ram explained:
Technology is a part of nature—just like us. It’s God’s reflection growing.

He gave the example of the Ukraine war, which had just started. Without tech, we wouldn’t even know what’s happening. With it, the second something occurs, we’re all aware. It’s like God feeling pain on his elbow—he becomes aware.

That’s what social media is.

Before all this, it would’ve taken months to hear about war across the world. Now it’s instant. And that’s not evil—it’s a mirror of awareness.

Song: Like Taking Off an Old Shoe (AKA Death)

This next one was about death.

Ram Dass told me death is a massive ceremony. And living fully—building relationships, having experiences—is like a dieta before that ceremony.

“The more you have to say goodbye to, the more impactful the ceremony of death becomes.”

That changed the way I see it. It’s not about fearing death—it’s about living richly so that death becomes a beautiful, full goodbye.

Song: I Am Loving Awareness

Ram Dass turned to me during this one and asked, “Do you believe in mantras?”

I laughed. “No way,” I said. “They feel like a bunch of baloney.”

He laughed too, put his arm over my shoulder, and said, “Come, let me show you something.”

We went back in time. I was 5 or 6, playing with a toy that broke. In that moment, a spark of thought formed:

“I always mess things up.”

Then I saw the same thought at 9… then 13… then 14… again and again.

Ram Dass smiled. “See how impactful a mantra is?”

We both laughed.

Then he said, “Every time you say a positive mantra, even if it feels silly, it’s like lighting a candle in a dark cave. Light enough candles, and you’ll find yourself standing in a shrine.”

Song: You’re a Guru

This was the most meaningful story he ever shared.

He spoke about his first time meeting Maharaji in India. The night before, he thought about his mother for the first time in a long while. The next day, Maharaji told him, “You were thinking about your mother.”

It blew his mind.

But what really changed him was that Maharaji saw all his thoughts—and still loved him unconditionally. That love transformed him.

Now, on the beach with Ram Dass, he told me:

“There wasn’t even a guru named Maharaji in a spiritual sense. What I saw was my soul.”

The stars, the mountain, the people in white—all just visuals to help tell the story. What really happened was that he saw himself—his true self—and met it with love.

The End (For Now)

Outside of my second ayahuasca ceremony, this moment on the beach was the last time I connected with Ram Dass in that deep way.

The next time it happens, I’ll be sure to write about it.

But for now, I’m just grateful.
Grateful for the teacher.
Grateful for the journey.
Grateful to be.