Presence: The Ultimate Drug and the Path to Ecstatic Bliss

By Virginia Underwood

We live in a world that is constantly reaching for something—something to numb, to soothe, to stimulate, to escape. Whether it’s caffeine to wake up, wine to wind down, or the constant scroll to avoid feeling... we’re often seeking altered states of consciousness without realizing what we’re really craving is something much more primal, more sacred:

We are craving presence.
We are craving ourselves.
We are craving bliss that doesn’t fade when the screen goes dark.

And what if I told you presence is the ultimate drug?

The High That Heals

Presence doesn’t come in a bottle. It doesn’t hit hard and leave you wrecked. It’s not a synthetic escape or a temporary relief. Presence is subtle—until it isn’t. It slips in through your breath, through the slowing of your thoughts, through the beat of your own heart.

Then, suddenly, it floods your system.

Colors brighten.
Time bends.
Your senses come alive.
And you remember: This is what you’ve been seeking.

You don’t need to run from anything.
You don’t need to reach for anything.
Because everything you need is right here.

Presence brings you back to the real.
And the real is holy.

Presence and the Portal of Ecstatic Bliss

We tend to think of bliss as some elusive, peak experience—only accessible in sex, dance, psychedelics, or on some distant mountain top. But bliss isn’t somewhere out there—it’s a current that runs beneath the surface of every moment. Presence is what taps you in.

When you are fully here—unguarded, unedited, unmasked—you become a tuning fork for the divine.
You feel the ecstasy in a breeze across your skin.
You taste the rapture in your tea.
You see the miracle in a lover’s eye, a friend’s laughter, your own reflection.

Bliss is not the escape. Bliss is what rises when you finally stop escaping.

It is the orgasm of the soul, the pulse of truth through your body, the honey of divine union dripping through the ordinary.

Presence is the access point. Bliss is the reward.

Living As the Medicine

When you commit to presence, you become the medicine. You don’t have to chase highs—you are the high. You move through the world as a living prayer, a walking altar, a sacred space.

It doesn’t mean you’re always calm or perfect.
It means you’re awake.
It means you meet each experience with reverence, even the uncomfortable ones.
And that kind of embodied aliveness? That’s ecstasy in its purest form.


So here’s your invitation:

Breathe deeper.
Feel it all.
Put the phone down.
Close your eyes.
Come home to yourself.

Let presence flood your cells like sacred fire.
Let bliss rise through your being like a chant.
Let this moment be enough—and everything.

Because it is.