While cannabis is getting accepted more every day, there are still a ton of us that keep it under the radar. Sure, if you are getting high in the parking lot behind the office, I get it. Tons of jobs still test for cannabis. And if you’re a brain surgeon or a pilot, that’s a good reason to keep your habit among friends Times are changing, but we aren’t there yet.
But many of us are just worried about saying the wrong thing or what people will think.
It’s like when you’re a liiittle too high in a social setting and get in your head about something you or someone else said. But we shouldn’t have to feel that kind of paranoia. Why are a bunch of grown-ass adults being all sketched out about the plant and activity they love?
Maybe you are way out of the cannabis closet and smoking up your grandparents and boss. If you are, I’m happy for you. I never got my grandma high, but I’m out here with you. And while I’m not an activist making clever signs and yelling at cops, I do consider myself an advocate.
I won’t go down in history as a pioneer. But by being open about how much cannabis matters to me, I’ve landed a job blogging about weed. Which has perks - people pretty much expect me to be high while I write this. Pretty great right?
I’ve found that the louder I speak about what I actually care about, the more I get to have it in my life. Which seems obvious, you know, like law of attraction type stuff.
Weed, in particular, is worth being loud about. You don’t need to be an activist, but if you open up about marijuana's role in your life, you will be surprised at what happens.
Here’s a story about it.
Story Time - Open the Cannabis Closet
Several years ago, I had developed a bit of a reputation as a stoner. Not in a bad way, as cannabis makes me weirdly productive and creative. I was just always down to smoke weed.
And when people know you like to smoke, guess what?
They invite you to smoke.
During this period, I was looking for a place to live. At his party, my friend introduced me to a tall, funny, and beautiful blonde. We hit it off nicely, and she had a place to rent.
She doesn’t smoke weed, but her boyfriend does, and I’ve got to meet him. Slight bummer, but he is outside on the porch rolling a joint. We are introduced, and after a joint and a couple of jokes, my new friend invites me to check out the property.
Fast forward to my buddy and me moving in. We offered to help clean up the yard for cheaper rent. My new buddy/landlord rolls one up, agrees and proceeds to explain his elaborate life philosophy, and no work gets done.
My new friend would often drop by with large bags of potent flower I’d never heard of. He would casually leave behind entire ounces for my friends and me. Our minds were blown, and he just laughed.
When I asked him what he did for work, he looked shocked.
“You don’t know what I do?”
He explained he was an artist and showed me pictures of his work on his phone. He was good, and I never thought more about how such a young guy owned a beautiful house by the sea and casually threw around big bags of bomber weed.
Fast forward a couple years later. I’m again looking for a place to live, and I’m broke. So I think of my friend and the work exchange.
I call up my old friend. He says my timing is perfect and invites me over to his new place. He rolls up the purplest crystaly top I’ve ever seen. The flower lifts me off, and I’m still clueless. We walk behind his place as he explains that I can indeed live in his trailer, and he might even have work for me.
“What work?”
He opens the doors to a mysteriously huge building, takes me upstairs, and I step into a room full of smoke. A dude is working on a big table in the center. On that table is a mountain of purple buds, being carefully weighed and packaged.
Remember when I was all impressed about the ounce? That was nothing, and my life would never be the same. Within months I was licensed and learning the trade.
Now, this doesn’t happen everytime I share a joint with someone. It happened because I shared a lot of joints with a lot of people. I got to know my community of fellow advocates. I was open with my friends and family about what I wanted and believed in.
When I first met the cannabis-growing community in my town, they didn’t tell me what they did, as legality was complicated at that time.
But they knew what I did - I loved weed. And they sure weren’t going to rent their house to someone who didn’t.
And by sharing spliffs, bonds grew. We learned to trust each other. It’s awesome how people who smoke weed together instantly share something. We found we shared values. Like human beings being able to have access to plants that literally grow like weeds in some parts of this planet.
But none of that was going to happen if I kept hiding in my moms basement blowing smoke through a toilet paper tube full of dryer sheets.
Sharing and chatting about the things we are passionate about almost always leads to something good. It creates a connection. And from my experience, cannabis can open big doors for your - but you need to open the first one and step out of the closet.
