mozart and ketamine

I’m considering making this the focus of my PhD thesis next year and would love to hear your thoughts.

When I listen to Mozart, particularly The Marriage of Figaro and the Requiem Mass (the only music that ever makes me cry), during my ketamine infusions, it's like being transported to a completely different dimension. In this space, the music isn’t just something I hear; it's something I see, feel, and almost touch. As the ketamine begins to take effect, my sense of reality shifts, and Mozart becomes vivid in ways I never imagined. I used to listen to Mozart a lot while I was in the hospital during a particularly difficult period of illness; it was my escape.

With the Requiem Mass in particular, the notes take on a physical form, swirling around me in rich, deep shades of purple and blue. The music feels like it's carved out of the very air, heavy with emotion and gravity. As I listen, I can see each note ripple outward, shimmering like water, carrying with it layers of meaning that only make sense to me during the infusion. It’s a perfect synthesis of experience, accessible only in that state.

There’s a profound, almost primal connection to the sorrow and beauty in the music. I find myself floating in a space where time no longer matters. Each note is a wave of sound and colour, surrounding me, as if the music is unraveling in numbers and patterns, like a hidden code I can decipher through feeling alone. The sadness in the Requiem feels less like despair and more like a profound understanding of life and death—a reflection of my own battle with grief and release. It’s not merely music; it’s an immersive experience, an invitation to explore the deepest parts of my mind.

Then there’s The Marriage of Figaro (particularly 'Che soave zeffiretto' from Le nozze di Figaro). I fell in love with this piece early on in my journey with mental illness—it was cathartic. When the music begins, the colours shift—brighter, lighter, like bursts of yellows, pinks, and greens dancing around me. There’s a playfulness in the music that I can see, moving in spirals and arcs, as if it’s painting the air with joy and complexity simultaneously.

The ketamine allows me to feel every twist and turn of the melodies in a way that transcends words. The rhythms seem mathematical, like there’s a pattern I’m part of—a perfect equation of sound, color, and emotion. It’s as if the music knows the answers to life’s puzzles, and in these moments, I am more connected to that knowledge, even if I can’t fully articulate it. There’s a strange comfort in the way the notes move through me, like Mozart is reminding me that even in the most complex, overwhelming moments, there is beauty, humour, and harmony. I’m known to laugh during my infusions!

During these experiences, I don’t just hear Mozart—I see the music in many forms. It’s as if the music has a life of its own, filled with colours and shapes, each note corresponding to something I can almost grasp. It seems to speak in a language of numbers and patterns that, under the influence of ketamine, makes perfect sense. This deep connection isn’t just emotional; it feels like my mind is expanding, reaching out to touch the invisible structures of the universe, with Mozart’s music as the key. Every note and chord feels connected to something greater, and in that space, I feel like I’m a part of it all. It’s an experience of profound connection—to myself, to the world, and to something far beyond either.

Here’s my usual playlist:

1. Mozart – Requiem Mass in D Minor, K. 626

2. Mozart – The Marriage of Figaro, K. 492

3. Beethoven – Symphony No. 9 in D Minor, Op. 125 (“Ode to Joy”)

4. Johann Sebastian Bach – Air on the G String

5. Frédéric Chopin – Nocturne in E-Flat Major, Op. 9, No. 2

6. Claude Debussy – Clair de Lune

7. Ludwig van Beethoven – Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 27, No. 2 (“Moonlight Sonata”)

8. Tomaso Albinoni – Adagio in G Minor

9. Samuel Barber – Adagio for Strings, Op. 11

10. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky – Swan Lake, Op. 20

11. Antonio Vivaldi – The Four Seasons: “Winter”

12. Johann Pachelbel – Canon in D Major

13. Gabriel Fauré – Pavane, Op. 50

14. Sergei Rachmaninoff – Piano Concerto No. 2 in C Minor, Op. 18

15. Erik Satie – Gymnopédie No. 1

16. Johann Sebastian Bach – Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007 (Prelude)

17. Maurice Ravel – Pavane for a Dead Princess

18. Arvo P?rt – Spiegel im Spiegel