In October, 2004 I was sitting on a couch looking out the front window of a communal kitchen housed in a small 1930’s wooden cabin on the main footpath of an intentional community on the western slopes of the Cascade mountains in north-central Oregon. I was alone. Before me was a simple breakfast of sausage and a couple of eggs, and a very large mug of coffee – a latté to be precise, which I’d recently learned to make using a stovetop “espresso” machine called a Bialetti. It was a brilliant blue autumn morning. Miles Davis played from the stereo. I took my first sip as the opening bass notes of “Flamenco Sketches” filled the air and watched in awe as a single red leaf glided gracefully down amongst the glowing golden/yellow and dappled green of the big leaf maple that embraced and sheltered the front porch, drifting back and forth in perfect synchrony with Paul Chambers’ and Bill Evans’ virtuosic performances, gracefully caressing a contrapuntal thermal updraft from the sun-drenched path below.
The initial dopamine rush from that first sip took hold of my nervous system before the leaf reached the ground, and just as, finally, ecstatically, joyfully the leaf came to rest, I was possessed with a feeling as if the top of my head were blossoming like a lotus, my heart shining out from my chest like a small sun, radiating warmth and joy throughout my body. I felt as if time and thought had stopped, and that the coffee, the music, the cabin, the path, leaf, tree, sunlight, community, mountain and myself all were one and the same, cause and effect, object and observer all blending into a synchronous whole, inseparable, forever. In that moment I knew with utter clarity what mystics, sages and gurus have been saying for centuries – “That which you are looking for lies within you”, that God is the whole universe all around and within me without end, and that the feeling in my breath, in my heart, of the irrefutable presence of the divine will always be with me until my last breath leaves my body, taking me with it.
In current drug parlance, this experience could be described as “entheogenic”, a term derived from the Greek word entheos, which means “God within,”1 That is to say, I had an elevated or expanded view of something that I perceived to be “divine”. Exactly what that was is obviously open to individual interpretation, which presents a tricky problem to scientists and others of an empirical, evidence-based disposition who wish to study such phenomena.
Humans have used psychoactive substances for spiritual and religious ceremonies, shamanic visionary work, healing, physical and mental augmentation and recreation for thousands of years2, and history is rich with reports of their experiences. This kind of ecstatic transportation may be accomplished in a variety of ways, sometimes spontaneously, such as through the grace of God or nature, though more frequently via intentional acts such as devotional practices of yoga, prayer, meditation or intense concentration on a single point or icon. Frequently these journeys are accompanied and amplified by eating, smoking or drinking parts or extracts from certain plants, mushrooms or animals that have been known by various names throughout history: allies, spirit medicine, psychedelics and, more recently, entheogens.
In the past 50 years, some very powerful entheogens, such as LSD, psilocybin, ayahuasca, MDMA, and DMT have received quite a lot of attention in western media and discourse. Starting in the 1950s and 60s with controversial pioneers like Aldus Huxley, Timothy Leary and Ram Daas, continuing in the 1990s with visionary explorers like Terrance McCkenna, and more recently with more sober, and sobering appraisals from authors like Michael Pollan, these entheogens have, through scientific exploration, personal study, and religious and political debate traveled a long arc beginning with a sudden, explosive cultural revolution in the 50’s and 60’s, then cast into a realm of dark and forbidden dangers for the following four or five decades, and have recently re-emerged in the last decade since 2010 as legitimate medicines for treatment of a wide range of psychological disorders, including alcoholism, anxiety, depression, post traumatic stress syndrome, ADHD, and many others.
But, as Michael Pollan writes in the epilogue of his book, ‘How to Change Your Mind”, beyond medicinal therapeutic and spiritual shamanic uses, many current researchers envision a world where these and other entheogens will be accepted by general society for use in the “betterment of well people”:
“For them, medical acceptance is a first step toward a much broader cultural acceptance…[some] would like to see the drugs administered by trained guides working in what [spiritual pioneer, Bob Jesse] calls “longitudinal multigenerational contexts,” which, as he describes them, sound a lot like churches. (Think of the churches that use ayahuasca in a ritual context, administered by experienced elders in a group setting). Others envision a time when people seeking a psychedelic experience—whether for reasons of mental health or spiritual seeking or simple curiosity—could go, very occasionally, to something like a “mental health club,” as Julie Holland, a psychiatrist who used to work with Stephen Ross at Bellevue, described it. “Sort of like a cross between a spa/retreat and a gym, where people can experience psychedelics in a safe, supportive environment.”3
The profound, mind-altering and life-changing effects of the most powerful entheogenic chemicals warrants such care and guidance. Indeed, just getting the United States government to approve their use for research in rigorously controlled clinical settings has required the committed work of hundreds of scientists, researchers and other advocates over the past several decades. But this work has recently been bearing fruit. In 2020, Oregon was the first U.S. state to decriminalize psilocybin mushrooms and legalize them for therapeutic use. They also have been decriminalized in Denver, Colorado; Oakland and Santa Cruz, California; Washington DC; Somerville, Northampton, and Cambridge, Massachusetts; and Ann Arbor, Michigan. As I write this, the Oregon Psilocybin Services section of the Oregon Health Authority has begun accepting license applications for manufacturing, laboratories, service centers and facilitators, and expects new psilocybin service centers to open their doors to clients and for licensed facilitators to begin offering psilocybin services in 2023.
Throughout the often tumultuous and circuitous rise, fall, resurgence, and growing acceptance of these potent change agents into common usage, there is at least one entheogenic substance that has largely slipped under the radar of public luminaries, researchers, clinicians, regulatory agencies and even most of its users. This naturally occurring substance is readily available and legal worldwide, and does not require legislated controls or management by a trained medical professional. Paradoxically, it is also the most widely used psychoactive substance in human history. 1, 3, 7-trimethylxanthine, commonly known as caffeine, the main psychoactive component of cocoa, coffee, green and black tea, and of the top six carbonated beverages sold worldwide, is consumed regularly by at least 80% of the world population – including children. And although it is most widely recognized and touted for its use as a stimulant and social lubricant, it is also a powerful, safe, and socially accepted vehicle for a direct experience of the divine within – an entheogen.
I do not make this claim lightly. Sufi mystics have recognized the entheogenic properties of coffee for over 500 years, and there’s good reason to believe that tribes in southwest Ethiopia such as the Cafecho and Oromo, who live practically within sight of the Boma Plateau, the literal birthplace of cafea arabica, have known coffee as a divine vehicle for far longer. Experiences like the one I describe at the beginning of this chapter, induced by coffee and supported by conscious intention and focused awareness, are deeply woven into the social and religious fabric of these cultures.
My own use of caffeine has been instrumental in helping me to silence the noise of my mind and open me to experience the present moment. As I’ve learned to take time and appreciate the nuances of my caffeine experience, my moment-to-moment awareness has become both more refined and simultaneously more broad. I’ve begun to notice the world around me and the way my body moves through it in new ways. While drinking my morning coffee, this new awareness becomes magnified and amplified. I sometimes find myself having intense experiences of poignancy and beauty in encounters with simple, everyday objects. The glow and shimmer of dust motes in a shaft of sunlight, the sound of a friend walking past, the rush of a nearby river or the taste of my breakfast can trigger profound experiences of wonder, understanding, beauty, oneness and love. My description of the leaf fall above is one such experience, and there have been many others. It seems to me as if my cultivated influence of caffeine is somehow enhancing or magnifying my disposition, pointing or encouraging me into a heightened awareness of beauty, truth and Love.
I have enjoyed this kind of experience frequently, in varying degrees, during my regular morning coffee or afternoon tea for many years, even as far back as childhood, when iced black tea, enthusiastically sweetened with cane sugar, was the drink of choice in my family.
The effects of my caffeine-infused encounters with the divine are not limited to the span of breakfast or teatime, but rather last throughout my day. In any given moment, I can turn my awareness within and feel an undeniable … presence centered in my chest, but with harmonies throughout my body. The feeling is like an echo of what I felt during the opening notes of Flamenco Sketches, a constant reminder that the divine is right here, now, within me and around me, and is in fact the very substance of all that I perceive.
I enjoy all of these benefits without any of the occasionally problematic distortions of time, space and thought I’ve experienced under the influence of psychedelics like LSD, psilocybin and MDMA. To journey with any of those, I pretty much need to clear my schedule for at least three days, preferably longer, so I can adequately prepare my body for the experience, and then sequester myself afterwards during recovery so nobody else has to deal with me during the inevitable crash that follows. But I can have my coffee experiences daily, sometimes more than once per day, and have the added benefit of mostly being nicer, more socially adaptable, and more productive.
This essay began as the value proposition for a business I hoped to create that would allow me to expand upon my experiences, and share them with others. As I began my market research, I expected that I would quickly find more people who shared my views and who now had thriving business ventures of their own based on their experiences of the transcendent power of coffee, tribe mates who would validate my experience through sharing their own similar stories, fellow travelers in the realms of coffee spirituality who would profess their faith and love of this transformative beverage and who had taken it to new heights in third or fourth wave coffee houses. I was soon disappointed, then frustrated, and ultimately perplexed. If indeed caffeine provides a gateway for such a profound experience, why then was this not more widely publicized and shared? Why were there no “mental health spas” for coffee, no “caffeine church”, not even mention of related attempts, anywhere to be found?
I found hints here and there, both on the Internet and in real life, though they were few and fleeting: a bumper sticker proclaiming “Coffee is my God” on the back of a car speeding away too fast for me to catch the driver’s attention; a promising article comparing the effects of coffee consumption to the transformative goals of ancient alchemists, written eight years ago by an author who, faced with the pressing needs of business and family has since relegated the “esoteric” stuff to the back seat.
When I talk to people about my sense of coffee’s connection to spiritual experience, often their faces light up, and they share stories of their own experiences of bliss under coffee’s influence. When I described the challenges of my search for anyone actually making a business out of this, I generally received nods and expressions of a sentiment similar to my own, like, “Oh, yeah, totally, there’s probably people doing that all over.” But if there are, they are strangely silent about it.
In the midst of my frustrated search, the Specialty Coffee Association Expo landed in my backyard. When I first learned that Expo was coming to Portland, I had never heard of it before. For those who may not be acquainted, the SCA Expo is the specialty coffee event of the year. At its heart, the Expo serves as a conduit or hub for specialty coffee coffee growers and buyers from around the world to connect, share product info and tasting notes, and take the initial steps towards making deals for the purchase of vast amounts of green coffee beans. It is also a showcase for the latest technology and scientific discoveries in all realms of the “coffee value chain” – growing, harvesting, processing, storage, grading, shipping, roasting and of course preparation and consumption. It’s a big deal, and I first learned about it through a link from an online article that announced it was happening in my city in about a month. Well, well.
Given exigencies of time, money and childcare, I would only be able to attend the Expo for one day. To maximize my experience, I carefully researched the lists of lectures, workshops presenters, and vendors, selected a few I was most interested in that seemed to hold the most promise for my research, and planned my day such that I could get to each of them in turn, while also leaving time to wander around the expo floor and take it all in.
It so happens that I had recently purchased Kenneth Davids’ new book, “21st Century Coffee: A Guide”, and when I saw he was on the list for both a lecture and book signing, I moved these up near the top of my list. Mr. Davids is something of a legend in specialty coffee circles, having written seminal, industry-shaping books about the specialty coffee industry for nearly 50 years. If anyone would know about someone promoting the more mystical or ecstatic aspects of coffee used as an entheogen, I conjectured, it would be him.
I intentionally caught up with Kenneth towards the end of his book signing. The crowds having thinned, I hoped I would have the opportunity to engage in a brief conversation. I had one question prepared, and after some brief pleasantries, I asked him, “Do you know of anyone in the industry who’s focused on the sacralization of coffee, or who is presenting it in a spiritual context?” He paused and looked off into the distance for the space of maybe five heartbeats, then turned back to me and said, “If there’s anyone out there doing that, I haven’t heard of it.”
I was not surprised by his answer; actually it was exactly what I expected he’d say. And yet, I spent the rest of my time at the Expo, and much of my time since then asking myself, “how is this possible?”
I walked the entire floor of the Portland convention center that day. A lot of what I saw just completely blew my mind. The science and craft of coffee roasting alone occupied a huge section of the floor, with dozens of different machines from tiny micro roasters the size of a pug, to industrial behemoths capable of roasting up to 70 kg in a single go. Brew technology was also prominently on display with a similar gamut from elegantly crafted, single serving hand driven espresso presses up to massive machines capable of keeping up with the press of morning masses. I even saw more than one robot barista, cranking out shots and pour-overs to exacting pre-programmed standards, or set on the fly to customize the output to one’s particular specifications. Growers hobbed nob with buyers, scientists stormed brains with roasters and baristas brewed as fast as their chemexes could filter.
Through the caffeinated cacophony, I heard several phrases repeated over and over, like a mantra: flavor profile, tasting notes, mouth feel, cupping… and coffee cuppings (tastings) themselves were ubiquitous. In fact, the role of the “coffee cupper” was the subject of much discussion and special significance, and I saw copy posted throughout the event presenting the SCA’s recent revision of the “Coffee Value Assessment” (CVA), the feedback form cuppers use to capture their impressions, which was touted as “the tool the global industry uses to discover value in coffee.”
Being a total noob to industrial coffee, I had never heard of the CVA, and was curious what it was all about, so I spent some time at one of the SCA kiosks learning about their new process.
The introductory literature described the CVA as “a complete, ‘high-resolution’ picture of a specific coffee across four assessment types, completed separately to avoid bias” This sounded promising, and I wondered what the four assessment types could be. Reading further, I learned more about how the new process was created. “Driven by the SCA’s sustainability agenda, which emphasizes equitable value distribution throughout the supply chain, the system aspires to be a powerful tool to help measure and facilitate value assessment and distribution. It simultaneously integrates advances in sensory and coffee science, making it compatible with scientific research for the first time, as well as learnings from a large user-perception research project conducted with the specialty coffee community.” Ok, wow. Clearly they’ve put a lot of work into this. My sense of awe and excitement were growing.
I was eager to get a look at the guts of the rating system. Glancing down the kiosk, I found copies of the protocols and assessment criteria, which were, impressively, divided into three separate forms for “Descriptive”, “Affective” and “Combined” ratings. Nifty! I scanned the forms, excited to learn about a quantifiable method for reporting the esoteric, subjective effects of this mind-blowing beverage, creator of revolutions, spinner of dreams and gateway to the divine.
Skimming the forms, I found sections for Fragrance, Aroma, Flavor, Aftertaste, Acidity, Sweetness, Mouthfeel, and… that was it. I scanned the forms again, thinking I must have missed something. I reviewed the reporting protocols and introductory statements, wondering if maybe the other assessment criteria might have been left out – perhaps the SCA was only presenting the changes, and not the full form? – but nope, this was it, the whole enchilada. What these forms seemed to be telling me was that apparently, as far as the industry is concerned, the “complete high-resolution picture to discover value in coffee” comes down to these seven qualifiers. It was as if the authors were saying that all of our experience of coffee happens in our nose and mouth and just… stops there. I have to admit, I was kind of in shock. “What about the rest of our bodies?” I said to myself, “What about our psychological experience? What about joy? What about the divine?” Again, I was left with questions, “How is this possible? How did this happen? How did we get here?” I returned home that night and began looking for answers.
- Carl A. P. Ruck, Jeremy Bigwood, Danny Staples, Jonathan Ott & R. Gordon Wasson (1979) Entheogens, Journal of Psychedelic Drugs, 11:1-2, 145-146, DOI: 10.1080/02791072.1979.10472098 ↩︎
- “Entheogen.” n.d. Wikipedia. Accessed June 19, 2023..
See also: Jesse, Robert. 1996. “Entheogens: A Brief History of Their Spiritual Use.” Tricycle: The Buddhist Review. ↩︎ - Pollan, Michael. How to Change Your Mind (pp. 401-402). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition. ↩︎
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