The Gospel of Cannabis: Intentional Use
When I was 32 years old I set out to experience new things. These things weren’t entirely new to me; I had known about, “weed,” for basically my entire life. I knew that my dad, before he became a pastor, had been involved with the devil’s lettuce, and that my older siblings had also dabbled. The thing is, I wasn’t anti-cannabis, I just hadn’t ever made the choice to use.
I grew up with a healthy appreciation of the fact that my way of living isn’t everybody’s way of living. That some people used cannabis, and that doesn’t make them evil. Despite the best attempts by my private Christian school education, I left high school being perfectly fine with people who, “smoked pot.” But I was resolute in my decision to never consume it.
In my twenties, as a young man raised and living in Wisconsin, I started drinking. Pabst Blue Ribbon tallboys and whiskey were my drinks of choice. I even hosted a podcast about whiskey. Wisconsin drinking culture is unlike any other drinking culture you know. It’s not profoundly uncommon to know people who have upwards of five DUIs in their driving/drinking career. In fact, much of the blame to be placed for Wisconsin’s slow roll to legalize can be placed squarely on the Tavern League of Wisconsin. The Tavern League is a political lobbying group that represents, you guessed it, tavern owners.
Drinking culture is so strong in Wisconsin that one of the most powerful groups in the state lobbies for laws that prohibit legalization, and make it harder to drink anywhere but in a tavern. In Wisconsin, they’ve made their decision; they’re an alcohol state until the federal government decides that we’re all green states. You’d think with a state motto like, “Forward,” chosen to represent Wisconsin’s desire to be a leader in the nation, that we’d have seen them legalize already. But it isn’t so.
By age 32 I was a full blown alcoholic. It’s with shame that I tell you that I lost count of the amount of times I drove drunk. I was using alcohol to suppress emotions and hide painful things about my life. Alcohol was the numbing agent I used to get by. Alcohol is a scary thing that way.
Alcohol numbs your senses, whether literally or figuratively, just enough to lull you into a false sense of happiness. Alcohol doesn’t help you deal with your problems, but when you’re actively in the disease of alcoholism, it does trick you into thinking that you don’t need to concern yourself with them. Alcohol tricks you into thinking that nobody else can tell the problems for what they are, even though what it actually often does is magnify these problems so that the entire world can see them.
In walks cannabis.
In December of 2019 I was a 300lb alcoholic who knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was, “just fine.” Sure, I was often depressed, out of shape, and wasn’t taking care of myself in the least of ways I could, but yeah…I was fine. I was then diagnosed with diabetes and my life changed. In a single day, the day I was diagnosed, I quit alcohol, cigarettes, added sugar, most processed carbs, and a whole slew of other things. I started exercising regularly, drinking only water, and eating healthy. By June 16, 2020, I was down to 198lbs and my blood hadn’t been registering as diabetic since February. I was, and continue to be, so proud of the hard work and dedication it took to get healthy. That is a whole other story we can get into some other time.
In June 2020 my wife and I decided to vacation to Colorado with the goal of hiking to the top of the mountain I had worked at the foot of on a dude ranch a decade prior. It was on this trip, due to the horrible neuropathy that diabetes had caused, that I tried cannabis for the first time. As a pastor’s kid, I am only a little bit uncomfortable to say, it immediately became my new gospel. It worked to treat my neuropathy, and I was converted.
For the first six months I was only using a water soluble THC powder from a Colorado brand called, Ripple. Ripple, and products like it, are great for people with dietary restrictions who want the enjoyment of an edible. I approached cannabis as medicine first, having to learn that this could be a fun thing, as well.
In January 2021 we went to California. A dear friend was going through a troubled time and I needed a break from life. I also had secretly made it my mission to spend my entire time in California medicated. I wanted to build a tolerance so that the psycho-activity of the plant would no longer really phase me. I wanted all the energy producing effects of cannabis, with none of the couch lock inducing negatives. I didn’t go about this correctly, but it was very fun.
In time I learned how to get my dosing down to a science. I didn’t need a huge tolerance to not be, “zooted,” I just needed to learn the cannabinoids and terpenes that my body responds to. That my body needs. I also think there is a trap that all new user fall into: THC Percentages
I admit, when I did transition to vaping and smoking cannabis, I was seduced by large THC percentages. You know, you spend a whole life hearing the government, and a lot of other media, vilify this three letter thing without ever really taking the time to explain it in detail. It sticks with you. And so when I got into cannabis I figured that the whole point was THC. I often wonder if the vilification of cannabis/THC is so public to ensure that people stay confused about what it actually is/does. These high percentages are often looked at as the be all, end all of top shelf flower. The industry caters to these folks, because that is where the money is.
Through tools like Goldleaf (cannabis journaling), The Cannigma, and online communities of productive stoners, I learned there was another way to interact with cannabis. That it doesn’t have to just be chasing THC. That the way I approached it from the beginning, as medicine, can be the primary relationship I have with cannabis if I wanted that. It just comes down to making the choice and having the discipline to resist the urge to give in to the other side of the plant.
Intentional use of cannabis has proven to be the strongest tool in my cannabis stash. I often find that people who complain that they find it hard to be productive while medicated, or who find it hard to stay alert while medicated, are people who are consuming without intention. They give themselves over fully to the ride, and do not expect an outcome.
For some reason, intention scares some people. Maybe “scares” is not the right word, but it’s such an intense disdain that I can really only categorize as fear. Maybe it’s the fear of being wrong all this time, I don’t know. But it seems that people who regularly are using cannabis without intention are the people who fight against the notion of it most. It could be as simple as people don’t like being told what to do.
One thing I say to people frequently is that when using cannabis, you should be using to enhance an experience. Don’t let using cannabis be the experience. Set an intention beforehand, even if the intention is as simple as, “I’m going to use cannabis because I know this food will taste way better.”
It’s the hope that you’ll use the intentions you set to use cannabis as a tool to improve your life, but that doesn’t just mean motivation, work ethic, and energy. Some of us have a hard time truly enjoying anything, and cannabis can be the key that unlocks the door to experiences and emotions we didn’t know we were lacking.
I said earlier that I was using alcohol to hide and suppress all these things about me; cannabis forces me to look at those same things I was trying to hide and says, “Hey let’s get into this shit so that we can get out of it.” And it’s all because of setting intentions that allow cannabis to pave a road to better health, clearer thinking, and acceptance of self.
I’m now living in Colorado full time, producing podcasts, and always learning more about my new gospel. If you’d like to learn more about intentional cannabis use and the way it can benefit your life, check out the High, Friends! Podcast here.
