MAPS/Lykos’ MDMA trials for PTSD delivered overwhelmingly positive results. I thought that mattered until I sat through a nine-hour deliberation among the FDA’s Psychopharmacologic Drugs Advisory Committee on June 4, including two hours of public comments that skewed anti-Lykos.
After a long day of groupthink, the panel advised the FDA that MDMA therapy was neither safe nor effective for patients with PTSD. And while their vote is nonbinding, their opinion significantly impacts the FDA’s final decision on Lykos’ new drug application.
So, how did the committee come to be? Were they up to the task of reviewing this historical application? And were their votes intellectually honest, given the failing mental healthcare system in the United States?
Psychopharmacologic Drugs Advisory Committee: Who Are They?
The Psychopharmacologic Drugs Advisory Committee (PDAC) consists of experts who provide independent advice to the FDA on the safety and efficacy of investigational drug products for psychiatric disorders. It consists of nine core voting members, including psychiatrists, neuropsychiatrists, consumer representatives, patient representatives, and one non-voting member, typically an industry representative.
Anyone can nominate themselves or others to PDAC. However, the FDA ultimately identifies and appoints candidates based on what they perceive as relevant expertise. Members serve one to four-year terms and attend several drug review hearings throughout the year.
The FDA also invites temporary voting members to certain meetings, bringing specialized expertise to address knowledge gaps in the core group. For the MDMA review, the FDA appointed six temporary members. But curiously, not one of them had specialized knowledge of psychedelic research or medicine.
Only one permanent PDAC voting member, Dr. Walter Dunn, holds a relevant background in psychedelic research. Dr. Dunn was also the only person to dissent from popular opinion, voting yes on both final questions:
Do the available data show that the drug is effective in patients with posttraumatic stress disorder?
Do the benefits of midomafetamine (MDMA) with FDA’s proposed risk evaluation and mitigation strategy (REMS) outweigh its risks for the treatment of patients with PTSD?
I don’t think the FDA purposely stacked the group against Lykos. But the committee’s lack of psychedelic expertise was grossly negligent, given the FDA’s goal of selecting experienced field experts. This novice lineup set the stage for a lopsided debate dominated by well-meaning status quo advocates who weren’t ready to unleash a transformative medicine they didn’t understand.
Kim O. Witczak, PDAC consumer representative, put it this way:
“Once you let the genie out of the bottle, you can’t put it back in.”
The Unprecedented Nature of the MDMA Review
To be fair, the committee faced an incredibly challenging task of reviewing the FDA’s first-ever new drug application (NDA) for a psychedelic compound.
Members received a data packet with MAPS clinical trials findings and the FDA’s concerns prior to the meeting. They may have also reviewed the critical ICER report and citizen petition that prompted the hearing. Together, these documents feasibly served as their first foray into psychedelic medicine before casting incredibly consequential votes affecting 13 million Americans with PTSD.
Additionally, it was the first NDA that merged a medicine, MDMA, with psychotherapy. The FDA does not regulate psychotherapy, so the committee had never seen such a proposal before. Until the MAPS MDMA trials for PTSD, they had only ever reviewed standalone prescription drugs.
This dual application caused distress and confusion as panelists struggled to reconcile their mandate with their desire to oversee the therapeutic aspect outside their jurisdiction. Admittedly, they were out of their wheelhouse, operating under a framework that didn’t adequately address the task at hand.
“Maybe it’s time to say we have to look at the current way that we’ve always approved and reviewed drugs differently,” Witczak said.
Resistance to the Therapeutic Component
With confusion looming, Lykos’ patient-directed therapy model was central to the panel’s skepticism throughout the hearing. They consistently questioned its validity and whether psychotherapy was even necessary alongside MDMA to alleviate PTSD.
In my discussion with Witczak, she reiterated the concerns that Lykos’ protocol wasn’t tested against “recognized therapies” or no therapy at all, leading to doubts about its credibility.
She’s right that Lykos didn’t compare its MDMA-AT model to status quo approaches, like Prolonged Exposure. They also didn’t study an MDMA-only group.
In hindsight, they should have, given the panel’s doubt about alternative therapies amplified by public accusations that Lykos is a therapy cult imposing spirituality onto patients. But hindsight won’t help now. At the time of the trial, the FDA had approved the inner healer method. Also, though Lykos didn’t explicitly test mainstream therapies, scientific data give us a clear picture of their effectiveness, according to Dr. Scott Shannon, Principal Investigator in MAPS Phase 2 and 3 clinical trials. Spoiler alert: mainstream therapies are not performing great.
According to Dr. Shannon, about 50% of people in PTSD psychotherapy trials drop out immediately, and of the 50% that pursue it, only half get better.
“Our medications are even worse,” he said, adding that PTSD medicine hasn’t had a significant innovation in the last 23 years, and up to 17 veterans are taking their lives daily as a result.
Still, PDAC insisted that Lykos’ therapy was a significant X factor that might not be effective or safe.
Therapeutic Safety
A confirmed case of therapist misconduct within MAPS clinical trials exacerbated the panelists’ pushback. The case involved Meaghan Buisson, a participant in the phase-two trial, who filed a lawsuit against two MAPS therapists, Richard Yensen and Donna Dryer, alleging sexual assault and professional negligence. Buisson’s claims included video evidence showing the therapists physically restraining and spooning her during a session. Buisson moved near the therapists after the trial, where she alleges the abuse continued.
I’m not here to defend the therapists’ actions. I watched the MDMA session clip and was not ok with what I saw. I’m also uninterested in conjecture about what occurred between Buisson and Yensen after the clinical trial ended. No matter the details, this situation is a stain on the program, and the public needs to know about it so we can hold people accountable and prevent future harm.
At the same time, this inexcusable case does not erase MDMA-AT’s profound impact. For instance, Lykos’ second Phase III trial found that 71.2% of the MDMA cohort no longer held a diagnosis, compared to 47.6% in the placebo group. Additionally, its MDMA trials for PTSD had some of the lowest dropout rates in history.
We need to be able to hold two truths at once.
1. Psychotherapist misconduct is unacceptable. We must continue raising ethical standards, recording therapy sessions, and holding offenders accountable for their actions.
2. At the same time, about 7% of conventional male therapists admit to having sex with at least one patient, and no one is suggesting we ban talk therapy as a result. Lykos’ misconduct case represents a lower risk profile than the status quo, and people with PTSD deserve a treatment that works.
And not to beat a dead horse, but Dr. Shannon reminded me that the FDA has no mandate or interest in regulating psychotherapy. State licensing boards, professional associations, and the legal system assume that role.
Ultimately, the panel and public debated an issue that the FDA likely won’t factor into their final decision.
Broader Issues of Mistrust in the MAPS Clinical Trial
The FDA cares about drug safety and efficacy data. But the panel’s broad dialogue extended well beyond the numbers into downright mistrust.
“I was surprised because usually [a drug] is approved more quickly, or [the panel] doesn’t raise many concerns. But this meeting had much more discussion,“ said Witczak, who added that it was “good conversation.”
Another committee member said, “It felt strange to vote no when the p-value started with three zeros.”
A low p-value, typically below 0.05, suggests that the results did not occur by random chance. So, a P < 0.0001 value – which was present in the MAPS clinical trial – is extraordinarily statistically significant.
Members cited functional unblinding (inadvertent awareness of group assignments) and expectation bias (preconceived notions about MDMA) as reasons why they didn’t believe the results. Additionally, they floated rumors from the citizen petition that the trial’s principal investigators and therapists engaged in data manipulation.
I’ll be honest. I wondered whether their points held weight, given the fact that most people in the MDMA group knew they were on MDMA.
Dr. Shannon explained that despite functional unblinding, the trial exhibited a significant effect size of 0.9. Effect size quantifies the magnitude of the treatment’s impact compared to placebo. Moderate effect sizes range from 0.4 to 0.6, according to Dr. Shannon, who explained that the best we for current SSRIs is a dismal 0.23.
“Even if our (MDMA-AT) effect size only turned out to be half of what we measured, it’s still much better than [the current treatments],” said Dr. Shannon.
But what about the potential fraud in MDMA trials for PTSD?
“I know several sites, and I know they did nothing untoward, nothing malicious, nothing underhanded. We knew we had to perform at the highest level of ethical and scientific investigation, and that’s what we did.”
Dr. Shannon added that FDA investigators were at his site for a week and had visited most sites throughout the clinical trial.
“We have been scrutinized to a high degree and stand by our data.”
Dr. Shannon could be wrong about the integrity of other actors in the trial. Some shenanigans may have occurred, and if they did, we need to question every single outcome.
However, such accusations are grave and rely on the FDA to investigate and determine their validity. The advisory panel meeting was not the format to litigate, yet the panel members clearly factored these stories into their votes.
Trying to Keep the Genie in the Bottle
MDMA-assisted therapy will revolutionize mental health treatment and society as we know it. I see that as broadly beneficial and necessary. But what do I know? I’m just one anecdote.
The data matter more than my opinion or that of any naysayer. But almost no one at the hearing could speak to it with authority or provide any context on decades of historical MDMA therapy use. Without such a person, I witnessed the committee circle the drain in unison until they concluded they weren’t ready to let the genie out of the bottle.
I believe most members voted no out of genuine concern, like Watzeck, who said she entered the meeting with hope and optimism before the pervasive criticism impacted her vote. But others may have arrived with a pre-packaged vote.
“I would say some probably had biases. They may never agree to [MDMA therapy],” said Watzeck.
And that right there encapsulates why a committee hearing stacked with psychedelic novices could not come to an intellectually honest decision despite what may have been an utterly genuine effort.
Why the Political and Social Reality Might Supercede the Rejection
Fortunately, the FDA’s decision is not made in a vacuum.
Witczak thinks the FDA may still approve MDMA-AT despite the panel’s concerns because of pressure from veterans groups and Congress to deliver effective PTSD therapies.
Dr. Shannon also thinks that the FDA will consider MDMA because of the dire need for innovation in mental health treatment. He believes the FDA will likely impose safety restrictions, like a limited rollout, enhanced data collection, and a Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy (REMS) program. Still, he thinks the organization will ultimately say yes.
The FDA decision whether to approve or deny MDMA therapy is expected to be announced by Aug. 11.
“We’re in a paradigm shift from either a psychotherapy or a pharmacology model, which have grave limitations, into a new model that combines them both,” Dr. Shannon said.
I’d like to agree, but I suspect the FDA is filled with well-meaning experts who fear unleashing the unknown.
In the current psychedelic resurgence, traditional medical paradigms are being called into question, and many are asking whether the profit-driven medicine model is really the best way to help people heal.
Forward-thinking, conscious psychedelic leaders and organizations are answering, and introducing new models of doing business. Moving beyond worthwhile concerns of sustainability, regenerative business goes a step further, shifting the focus from simply reducing negative effects to creating business models that actively replenish and regenerate.
This holistic, systems-based approach seems to be a natural fit for the field of psychedelics, a sector already deeply connected with more integrated views of the world.
This article explores the principles of regenerative business, its application in psychedelics, and the frameworks guiding those hoping to make a truly sustainable impact.
What is Regenerative Business?
Regenerative business models go beyond traditional efforts at sustainability. Instead of just mitigating negative impacts business can have on people and the planet, regenerative models aim to restore and enhance the systems and communities they interact with.
Regenerative economics involves resource circulation that restores and strengthens economic, social, and natural systems. Imagine natural ecosystems, like forests or mycelium networks, that thrive through nutrient and information exchange. They share and re-circulate resources, creating dynamically positive feedback loops that allow all parties to excel.
This type of collaborative system of doing business stands in stark contrast to an extractive model, which extracts resources, often at the expense of overall the well-being of the community or environment. Extractive economic models have led to an unsustainable disequilibrium, the results of which can be found in rising financial inequality, climate change, and ecosystem degradation. Personal well-being also suffers, with increased rates of mental health issues correlating with these economic and systemic imbalances.
Regenerative patterns aim to offer an antidote by promoting balance. In a regenerative economic system, interconnected webs of people and organizations support local feedback loops and other important exchanges like community capital circulation. This approach is being embraced in sectors such as agriculture, forestry, and energy, where supply chain practices play a crucial role in environmental stewardship and sustainability.
“Regenerative economics is about creating businesses that are foundationally centered on systems that restore, renew, and revitalize the people and the environment. Every aspect of the business from production and operations through company culture, monetization, and community engagement will have thoughtful holistic strategies that rejuvenate rather than deplete,” explains AnnaRae Grabstein, business strategist in emerging spaces. “This means not just minimizing harm but actively contributing to the betterment of all stakeholders. It’s about long-term thinking and innovative approaches that challenge the status quo.”
Regenerative Business and Psychedelics
A regenerative approach is particularly relevant to psychedelics and the future of psychedelic therapy and support. The traditional pharmaceutical approach to mental health, which focuses on biological symptoms with little regard for psychosocial factors, has not adequately addressed the mental health crisis. This model is also often based on a “chronic” treatment system where patients might be expected to take daily medication for longer terms or for the rest of their lives. Yet despite high sales of antidepressants and other SSRIs, rates of mental health problems have only increased.
“Using regenerative philosophy in the creation of psychedelic medicine businesses presents an opportunity to think beyond profit creation and integrate a strategy for generating positive impact,” says Grabstein, who will teach Growing Your Psychedelic Leadership and Business in the upcoming Vital 12-month program. “While businesses need to make money to exist and thrive, regenerative business principles unlock the potential to drive revenue through impactful and ethical practices. By prioritizing sustainability, social equity, and holistic well-being, regenerative business models can be a part of building a psychedelic wellness industry that benefits not only the bottom line but also the communities, ecosystems, and individuals it serves.”
A regenerative approach to psychedelics aims to create well-being by treating mind, body, and spirit holistically. Psychedelic experiences foster connection, helping individuals reconnect with themselves, their communities, and the natural world. This is achieved through group therapy, communal activities, and integration practices that leverage the openness fostered by psychedelics.
“Much of the mental distress that psychedelics may alleviate traces to the extractive pattern of our existing economic system – a pattern in which resources are extracted to benefit a single group – at the expense of overall well-being. It would be counterproductive to deliver psychedelic experiences using practices that embody the same extractive patterning making people unwell in the first place. A regenerative approach to delivering such experiences flips the pharmaceutical-centered approach on its head: rather than focusing on symptom management in an unwell patient, it aims to create well-being.”
Implementing Regenerative Practices in Psychedelics
Trying to operate in this more traditionally capitalist world can make transitioning to a regenerative business model seem daunting. But with the right frameworks and a commitment to systemic change, psychedelic companies can successfully move their work in a more regenerative direction.
Articulate Your Vision for Systemic Change: Clearly understand and communicate your purpose, impact, and influence. Define how you can reshape economies and contribute positively to the environment and society.
Map Systems and Identify Leverage Points: Analyze your internal systems, operations, value chain, and the broader market. Identify areas where you can strategically allocate resources to restore social and natural systems.
Set a Regenerative Strategy: Define how you will deliver value through regenerative outcomes. Identify key areas of impact and plan how to deliver the greatest stakeholder value.
Review Business Models: Assess your products and services. Explore how you can deliver value through regenerative practices, such as shifting models that focus on stakeholder value rather than profit or quantity of goods sold.
Define and Deliver Value: Recognize that regenerative approaches can drive financial value creation. Develop more holistic methods to understand value creation across your entire enterprise ecosystem (rather than a narrow view of short-term profit seeking).
Remaining in outdated models in an industry like psychedelics carries risks. For the psychedelic medicine space, which is closely tied to natural resources and community well-being, these risks are particularly significant. Inadequate adoption of regenerative principles can harm ecosystems, undermine the social fabric of communities, and damage the industry or company’s reputation, ultimately affecting long-term viability and growth.
While it may be tempting, and sometimes necessary, to focus on the immediate bottom line, a broader view of success can help long term viability.
Foster a Regenerative Culture: Cultivate a culture that prioritizes regeneration through action-oriented leadership and stakeholder engagement. This involves educating employees, partners, and consumers about the benefits of regenerative practices.
Pilot Projects: Start with pilot projects to test regenerative models. This approach allows companies to manage risks and evaluate opportunities before scaling up.
Collaborate and Share Knowledge: Engage in peer-to-peer and community mentorship to share insights, challenges, and successes. Collaboration can accelerate the adoption of regenerative practices across the industry.
Grabstein believes that implementing these models is a natural fit for psychedelics.
“The healing potential of psychedelics aligns naturally with the principles of regeneration – restoring mental, emotional and physical health to people, environments and communities. By integrating regenerative practices (like regenerative agriculture, circular economy principles and social equity), the companies and organizations who employ these methodologies can work towards the sustainable cultivation of natural psychedelic sources, ethical treatment of indigenous knowledge holders, and equitable access to therapies. This holistic approach can help build a resilient and responsible psychedelic medicine industry.”
The integration of regenerative business principles in the psychedelic industry offers a potentially transformative path forward. By adopting holistic, systems-based approaches, psychedelic companies can ensure sustainable sourcing, promote social equity, and build resilient economies. This commitment to regenerative practices has the potential to not only enhance therapeutic outcomes but also contribute to broader environmental and social well-being, paving the way for a truly sustainable future in psychedelics.
Are you a psychedelic professional interested in building an ethical business or practice that gives more than it takes? Consider joining our September cohort of Vital, where students can choose to specialize in Regenerative Business and Leadership (the first-ever offering of its kind).
Although the late psychologist and mystic Carl Jung died in the 1960s, his ‘inner self’ legacy is enjoying an organic revival, synchronizing with the resurgence of psychedelics.
Jung’s work provides a reliable road map for a psychedelic trip through the unconscious, and contemporary psychedelic explorers are hungry to learn more about his profound teachings.
Why Jung Appeals to a Broad Psychedelic Audience
Jung’s enduring transpersonal principles can help us interpret and understand complex non-ordinary experiences, whether they’re brought on by psychedelic compounds or other endogenous methods.
Thus, his insights resonate with a broad audience: licensed therapists, reiki practitioners, guides, yogis, integration coaches, breath workers, and others.
“We’re in need of tools that help us to articulate what’s going on at that level of depth,” says Jungian analyst-in-training and clinical psychology doctoral student MacKenzie Amara. “…we don’t have [many tools] to articulate what’s happening when we get into the messy place of extreme emotional catharsis and symbolic representation through the form of visions and communication with ancestors who have been long dead.”
Understanding Archetypes on Jung’s Terms
In order to comprehend Jung’s psychospiritual philosophies, it’s crucial to first understand some basic Jungian concepts and terms. Jung believed that the psyche (mind, body, soul) is composed of three parts: the ego (or personal conscious), the personal unconscious (unique, containing suppressed memories), and the collective unconscious.
The collective unconscious is a domain of primordial images and symbols that evoke meaning and connection across races, cultures, and nationalities. According to Jung, these symbols contain ‘ancestral memory’, which is inherited. Our ancestral roots and dreams provide insights into the collective unconscious, which shapes our perceptions, knowledge, and experiences.
Within this realm, four main archetypes reflect our beliefs, values, motivations, and morals. The four main Jungian archetypes are:
The Self: The Self emerges when the ego integrates with both the conscious and unconscious aspects of our minds. It represents the culmination of an individual’s spiritual journey, known as individuation. Through individuation, each person realizes their unique, cosmic identity.
The Persona: The Persona refers to the various social masks we wear. We present different aspects of ourselves depending on the social context, such as at work, with family, or with friends. The development of the persona is influenced by upbringing, culture, and environment.
The Shadow: The Shadow contains the parts of our personality that we repress, discard, and hide. These can include traits we are unaware of or do not appreciate. While prejudices and biases originate from the shadow, it is not entirely negative; it also holds potential strengths and hidden talents.
The Anima or the Animus: These archetypes represent the ideal feminine (anima) and masculine (animus) aspects within us. The animus embodies masculinity in a woman’s psyche, while the anima embodies femininity in a man’s psyche. Society often discourages the expression of these opposite-gender traits. Integrating the anima or animus is a crucial step in the process of individuation.
Due to intense engagement with archetypes during psychedelic experiences, individuals risk having their personal worldviews disassembled in the process.
“Jungian theory lends itself to people that have had spiritual, transgressive, or transpersonal experiences more than those that are kind of stuck in a rational materialistic worldview,” Amara explains.
These transpersonal experiences make the Self the focal point of the journey of individuation.
Carl Jung’s Inner Self Explained
The Self is central to Jung’s worldview, merging consciousness and unconsciousness to represent the whole psyche. We are born with a sense of unity, but as we grow and focus on the outer world—school, work, relationships—we form an ego and lose this unity, neglecting our inner world.
Jung identified two life stages: the outer world and the inner world. As adults, we often experience tension between our conscious and unconscious minds, leading to a midlife crisis. This signals the need to nurture our inner life.
Life’s challenges can bring a “dark night of the soul,” where societal values fail us. This prompts a quest to reconnect with our soul, though many avoid this confrontation. Embracing our suffering can lead to psychic growth, uniting our conscious and unconscious realms.
Through this process, known as individuation, we integrate the ignored parts of our unconscious, regaining wholeness and inner harmony.
Carl Jung’s Process of Individuation
As we turn inward, we encounter individuation, a central theme in Jung’s work. Individuation integrates our unconscious with the conscious, restoring the wholeness of the Self. This process, akin to self-actualization, involves breaking free from societal and cultural norms to become a unique individual. Successful individuation provides deep-rooted stability, like an ancient oak tree, supporting us through life’s storms.
Individuation heals the split between the conscious and unconscious, allowing our true Self to emerge. This journey creates turbulence as we realize our conventional world and unconscious world often conflict. The conventional world shapes our beliefs and behaviors, creating a structured reality. In contrast, the unconscious is chaotic and tumultuous, divided into the personal and collective unconscious. The personal unconscious contains everything outside our conscious awareness.
From birth, we operate largely on autopilot, influenced by external conditioning. This conditioning shapes our ego and self-perception, leading to a split and psychic imbalance. Psychedelics can help repair this split, aligning our conscious and unconscious minds.
Jung, Psychedelics, and “Ego Death”
Carl Jung coined an often used term in psychedelic vernacular: ego death. Ego death refers to a compromised sense of self, and it’s a state that’s coveted by many psychonauts. While some consider it an end goal of psychedelic work, it’s really the first step towards a return to wholeness. So, why is this idea prevalent in the psychedelic community?
“Psychedelics are what we call psycho-pumps for individuation. Meaning psychedelics are connectors to personal and collective unconscious; what gives you more of the unconscious material to then work with,” Dr. Ido Cohen explains.
This idea results in the common sentiment that psychedelics are “ten years of therapy in one day.”
While Cohen doesn’t think it’s necessarily accurate, he believes people are trying to say, “Wow, psychedelics can really open up the barrier to the personal and collective unconscious which then a flood of information comes in.”
This shedding of a one-sided self-identity holds true in above ground and underground psychedelic settings, as people jump-start their individuation. Insights can follow that may lead a person to explore what has been relegated to the basement of their psyche, or the “shadow.” When we learn to dance with the shadow, we empathize and relate with all of mankind on a profound level, Cohen says.
Learning to Dance with the Shadow
As a midlife crisis arises, or we enter a dark night of the soul, and the process of individuation begins and we come face to face with our shadow. This daunting task is referred to as doing “shadow work,” (another Jungian term gaining popularity in licensed and underground settings alike).
At first glance, we may see our shadow and assume it is evil or an enemy. But our shadow is part of us, and can’t be abandoned or avoided. As we familiarize ourselves with the shadow, we learn that it is not to be feared, as it is only dark or hostile when it is ignored or misunderstood. Thus, it’s critical to understand what the shadow really is.
What is the Shadow?
The shadow encompasses all the psychic elements we reject and hope to discard by casting them into the depths. It includes the traits we’ve ignored, disowned, or removed from ourselves, forming our personality in the process. The shadow is the unknown dark side of our personality, representing everything we desire not to be.
The shadow includes negative and primitive human emotions and impulses: selfishness, rage, greed, pride, and lust. Anything we reject in ourselves as evil, intolerable, or less than ideal forms the shadow. It’s a repository of both negative and positive qualities we no longer claim. Within this mix, we find the shadow’s hidden treasures.
Cohen notes, “There is also the golden shadow, which includes beautiful aspects we repressed due to our upbringing or environment.”
This could mean rediscovering playfulness or sexuality. Or it could reveal latent talents, like a lawyer discovering a talent for writing or an athlete becoming a chef. It often emerges in psychedelic settings, inspiring life changes like new careers, divorces, or relocations. However, it’s crucial to provide quality integration and a solid container to help individuals make sound decisions and avoid regret.
The shadow compensates for what we lack. For instance, if a person is aggressive, the shadow reflects empathy and tenderness. If they’re shy, it reflects confidence and assertiveness. Honoring and accepting the shadow is an intense spiritual exercise, revealing our potential and the ideal self we strive to become.
Carl Jung’s Psychedelic Guidance is Here to Stay
For the Western mind, unaccustomed to Indigenous worldviews that embrace plant spirits and entities, Jung’s concept of the inner self offers all psychedelic practitioners an invaluable tool to navigate the mind-manifesting unknown. Think of Carl Jung as a trustworthy psychic sherpa: he guides us through the peaks and valleys of the timeless and boundless realms of human consciousness (and unconsciousness), helping us reconnect with our soul.
Do you feel called to learn more about Jung’s teachings? Consider joining us for our fourth cohort of Vital, where students can specialize in Depth and Jungian Perspectives. Applications are open now with limited seats available.
Asking for help is an inherently vulnerable thing. But when it comes to becoming a better psychedelic facilitator or guide, it’s crucial. Enter: psychedelic mentorship.
When people seek help from a psychedelic professional, experience matters. One may be dealing with addiction, depression, or trauma. Or perhaps something a bit lighter: a reset, a shift of perspective. Whatever the reason, individuals place their trust not only in the substance, but in the practitioners who help guide the way.
The vulnerability and trust between individuals and their psychedelic support providers highlight the critical importance of experience. This is why professional relationships, such as mentorships, are essential. A skilled mentor can equip facilitators with the expertise to handle the most challenging circumstances, distinguishing them from those who cannot provide the same level of support.
How Mentorship Can Help Psychedelic Professionals
The resurgence of interest in psychedelic medicine has ushered in a new era of therapeutic possibilities, yet despite the exciting prospects of increased access and expanded treatment options, considerations like ethics and client safety must remain paramount. Mentorship can provide the responsible guidance needed to navigate these crucial therapeutic aspects, ensuring that the rapid expansion of psychedelic therapy does not compromise the quality of care.
Psychedelic mentorship offers numerous benefits, both for the mentees and the broader professional psychedelic community. It provides future practitioners, therapists, guides, and integration specialists with critical knowledge, guidance, and support, helping them build confidence and competence in their practice. Experienced mentors share insights gleaned from years of helping others, including best practices, ethical considerations, and the subtleties of client care that are not always covered in formal training programs.
Moreover, mentorship fosters a culture of continuous learning and professional development. It encourages mentees to stay updated on the latest research and developments in psychedelics, promoting an evidence-based approach to supporting clients. This dynamic exchange of knowledge helps advance the field, ensuring that therapeutic practices evolve and stay connected with new scientific discoveries and industry norms.
What Can Future Psychedelic Professionals Learn From Mentorship?
Through mentorship, novice professionals and healers gain hands-on experience under the guidance of seasoned practitioners. This practical exposure is invaluable, as it allows mentees to apply theoretical knowledge in real-world settings, honing their skills in client interaction, session management, and therapeutic intervention.
Mentors also provide future psychedelic professionals with feedback and constructive criticism, helping them identify areas for improvement and develop their therapeutic style. This personalized guidance ensures that new psychedelic practitioners are well-equipped to handle the varied challenges that will inevitably arise during their practice.
For insight on mentorship in the psychedelic medicine space, we spoke with Kylea Taylor, therapist and creator of Inner Ethics program. As an ethics instructor for the Vital Professional Certificate Training in Integrative Psychedelic Studies, she observes first-hand how valuable mentorship is for psychedelic professionals who are training to build their careers and work with clients.
“I think the most important training is experiential. Supervised experience of having many extra-ordinary states of consciousness oneself and sitting for others who are in extra-ordinary states of consciousness,” Taylor said.
“Along with those experiences, it is very important to be in experiential study communities with other peers who share their experiences while you listen and who listen to yours. It is important then to have trainers and trained facilitators who can answer your questions and make comments about what happened in a group session. They can answer the questions of your peers, from which you learn as well.”
The Unique Situation of Psychedelic Therapy
Psychedelic therapy and support occupies a unique and complex niche within the broader field of mental health treatment. There’s a delicate mix of hands-on client care, navigating the legal status of psychedelics, and the specific ethical and professional considerations intrinsic to this type of therapy.
The Vulnerability of Clients
Clients engaging in psychedelic therapy or support often enter highly vulnerable states. The substances used, such as MDMA, psilocybin, and LSD, can induce intense emotional and psychological experiences. These experiences can unearth deep-seated traumas, evoke powerful emotions, and alter perceptions of reality. This heightened vulnerability requires practitioners to be exceptionally skilled in managing emotional crises and providing a safe, supportive environment.
Mentorship plays a critical role in preparing therapists to handle these situations with the utmost sensitivity and care, ensuring that clients feel secure and supported throughout their journey. Mentors can share their experience, help keep mentees focused, and guide them through helping clients navigate challenging experiences.
In her training sessions with burgeoning psychedelic facilitators, Taylor places an emphasis on the importance of ethical considerations and the utmost care for clients.
“[Facilitators have] an up-power position that has a greater power differential than the one between a therapist and a client in talk therapy. The psychedelic medicine amplifies vulnerability, suggestibility, and sensitivity. It softens the client’s defenses. This makes it incumbent on the practitioner, what I call the person who is in the ‘Responsible Party’ role, to have a regular source of oversight for their work—a peer consultation group, a supervisor, or a mentor—where we can be vulnerable ourselves and talk and learn from our challenges to provide impeccable care to clients.”
The Legal Status of Psychedelics
The legal status of psychedelics adds another layer of complexity to psychedelic facilitation. While there is a growing movement towards the decriminalization of psychedelics, they remain illegal in many parts of the world. Even in jurisdictions where psychedelic therapy is permitted under specific conditions, like clinical trials or compassionate use programs, legal restrictions and regulatory requirements can be stringent. Mentors help practitioners navigate this complex legal landscape, ensuring they remain compliant with all relevant laws and regulations. This guidance is essential for protecting both the facilitator and the client, as legal missteps can have severe consequences.
Ethical Considerations & Ensuring Safe Spaces for Clients
The unique and sometimes intense realities of psychedelic therapy demand adherence to rigorous ethical standards. The altered states of consciousness induced by psychedelics can blur boundaries and heighten emotional and psychological sensitivity. Practitioners must be adept at maintaining professional boundaries, managing therapeutic dynamics like transference, and ensuring informed consent. Mentors can help trainees understand and uphold these ethical standards, offering guidance from their lived professional experiences, helping future practitioners prepare for the unique challenges that could arise in psychedelic sessions.
“Practitioners can, without realizing it sometimes, come to believe that the healing and transformation of their clients is their own doing,” says Taylor. “They can misuse a client’s transference and be in denial about their own countertransference. They can exploit a client’s vulnerability or suggestibility sexually, emotionally, financially, medically, or spiritually and rationalize their reasons for doing so. They can ignore their own semi-conscious and unconscious motivations. If they have no peer consultation group or mentor, they may have no one to remind them about their client’s best interests.”
Traditional vs. Peer-to-Peer and Community Mentorship
Mentorship in psychedelics can take various forms, each with its unique benefits. Traditional mentorship involves a one-on-one relationship between an experienced mentor and a less experienced mentee. This approach allows for deep, personalized guidance and the development of a strong, supportive relationship.
In contrast, peer-to-peer and community mentorship involve more collaborative and collective forms of support. Peer-to-peer mentorship connects individuals at similar stages in their careers, enabling them to share experiences, challenges, and solutions on an equal footing. Community mentorship, on the other hand, involves larger networks of practitioners who provide mutual support, share resources, and collectively advance the field.
These forms of mentorship can complement traditional mentorship, providing a well-rounded support system for professionals at all stages of their careers. Taylor sees benefits in a well-rounded approach.
“I think having both forms of oversight is ideal. Traditional mentorship is usually one-on-one or in small groups. One can benefit from a mentor’s greater expertise. A one-on-one supervisory session can usually provide more security of confidentiality about a client situation,” Taylor said. “Peer consultation groups can provide more points of view, a breadth of resources and greater reach in networking. Our InnerEthics Peer Consultation Group is structured to protect vulnerability as practitioners rotate in roles to help each other do self-inquiry and relational reflection. Together they do mutual consciousness development to help them do their consequential work. Members of these groups also benefit from two things that are hard to come by in modern culture: a feeling of belonging and greater self-compassion.”
Considering the unique dynamics of psychedelic therapy, and how the future rollout will be full of new participants and novel therapeutic models, mentorship is quickly becoming a cornerstone of professional development. This supportive mode of training will help equip professionals with the knowledge, skills, and ethical grounding necessary to ensure they’re well-prepared to meet the challenges and opportunities of this new era of mental health.
Are you working toward becoming a psychedelic professional, and looking for mentors to guide you? Consider Vital, where students gain access to one-on-one mentorship opportunities with experienced facilitators working in the field. Applications are open now with limited seats available.
Microdosing. By now the practice has fully emerged from the underground and into the mainstream. No longer the domain of self-healing psychonauts and efficiency-chasing CEOs, the benefits of microdosing can be found in major magazines and clinical trials with Ivy-league universities.
The concept is relatively simple: taking very small, sub-perceptual doses of psychedelics (generally one-tenth to one-twentieth of a recreational or therapeutic dose). This practice has been reported to provide some of the benefits of psychedelic substances without strong sensory effects and, sometimes, help with the difficult work involved in full psychedelic-assisted therapy sessions.
As we move towards possible approval of psychedelic medicines by the FDA, and with decriminalization measures making progress in jurisdictions across the globe, how will microdosing fit into this future of psychedelic-assisted therapy? What benefits does it provide to therapists, practitioners, and the clients they serve?
Microdosing as a Tool For Practitioners and Clients
Despite an overwhelming number of positive personal stories and self-reported research, the hard science is still out as to the level of tangible benefits patients might gain from microdosing psychedelics. However, this combination of enthusiastic anecdotal reports and (slowly) mounting clinical research makes microdosing an intriguing tool for people looking to better their mental health and the practitioners who help them do it.
We spoke with Kayse Gehret, microdosing expert and founder of Microdosing for Healing, for her perspective on how microdosing can improve therapeutic results for both patients and practitioners.
Microdosing is the ideal way to introduce most individuals to psychedelic practice and therapy.
“Its relative subtlety is an advantage as it provides people a gentler introductory experience and begins to allow some challenging or unfamiliar emotions to surface incrementally versus all at once,” Gehret said. “My colleagues and I are seeing an increasing number of clients coming to us after returning from a high dose ceremonial retreat feeling destabilized. While psychedelics can bring us big truths, we must also recognize that much of the public is not appropriately prepared, resourced, or ready to receive these truths in a single weekend.”
Psychedelics primarily work by modulating the brain’s serotonin system, which plays a key role in mood regulation, cognition, and perception. They can also enhance neural plasticity and connectivity. These types of effects create states of mind that are fertile ground for mental health therapies. Openness, creativity, dissolution of the ego, the breaking of bad habits of mind — all are typical benefits of psychedelic therapy that may also be accessible through microdosing regimens.
According to Gehret, microdosing has a lighter touch, and is less of a jarring and intimidating experience. This allows patients to take part in psychedelic therapies with a gentler, more accessible introduction.
“By starting with microdosing, individuals can begin to heal and discover threads and shadow material leading up to and in preparation for their high dose journey,” Gehret explained. “In our microdosing community, I’ve witnessed repeatedly that when people begin with microdosing and work to deepen their relationship with the medicine over time, when they ultimately journey they tend to have much less fear, resistance and ‘challenging trip’ experience.”
“Professionally, I also believe microdosing is wonderfully supportive of the therapeutic bond between the client and their facilitator. By beginning with a microdosing protocol, a psychedelic guide can establish, deepen, and develop their bond with a client well in advance of the journey, which I believe can lead to much better outcomes and experiences for both client and guide.”
Therapeutic Benefits of Microdosing Psychedelics
While the efficacy of psychedelic medicine is becoming increasingly known to mental health professionals, it’s useful to look at some of the potential benefits of microdosing protocols and how practitioners may be able to incorporate them into their practices.
Depression and Anxiety: One of the most promising areas for microdosing psychedelics is in the treatment of depression and anxiety. Anecdotal reports and preliminary studies suggest that microdosing can lead to improvements in mood, reduced anxiety, and increased emotional resilience. For clients who have not responded well to traditional talk therapy or antidepressants, microdosing may offer an alternative or adjunctive treatment option. For recent clinical results, see the Phase 2 results from MindBio Therapeutics’ microdosing trial using LSD for depression.
Enhanced Creativity and Problem-Solving: Microdosing has been reported to enhance creativity, focus, and problem-solving abilities. These cognitive benefits can be particularly useful in therapeutic settings, where patients are often encouraged to engage in introspective and creative processes as part of their treatment. Enhanced cognitive flexibility may also help patients break out of rigid thought patterns that contribute to unhealthy states of mind.
Increased Mindfulness and Presence: Personal reports and self-reported research has shown increased mindfulness and a greater sense of presence in their daily lives. This heightened awareness can enhance the effectiveness of therapeutic practices such as mindfulness-based cognitive therapy (MBCT) and other mindfulness-based interventions.
Gehret has been guiding therapies and teaching Vital’s microdosing courses for several years, sharing her first-hand experience with burgeoning student practitioners. In addition to the therapeutic possibilities, microdosing protocols can help solve issues around access, as traditional psychedelic-assisted therapy can be a costly and lengthy endeavor, she says.
“Microdosing is a subtle and gentle way to explore a therapeutic relationship with psychedelics and test how your body, mind, and spirit respond. It’s also far more accessible and affordable than clinical psychedelic therapy treatments, which can run into multiple thousands of dollars for a single experience, is not covered by most insurers, and will leave out most of the under-insured population,” she told Psychedelics Today. “On the other hand, cultivating your own medicines and becoming part of a microdosing community will cost far less, plus provide you with the ongoing benefits of community, education and support.”
As psychedelic therapy continues to enter the mainstream, it seems that microdosing will become an important introductory tool for those looking for help but are perhaps not yet fully comfortable with the idea of psychedelics. From a logistical perspective, the shorter session time and lack of hallucinatory journey means that microdosing can provide a tool for practitioners that offers some of the benefits of psychedelic therapies but with fewer demands on resources (time and costs), which can create a more accessible experience for clients.
Microdosing group work and peer-to-peer models are also advantageous over traditional one-to-one therapy, as more people can be served, while eliminating the potential for practitioner burnout
“These models also empower people to step into their own healing, self-trust, and intuition, and support each other in the process. In our microdosing community, we have people who have been attending our gatherings since our inception – and many of them have gone on to become microdosing coaches, guides and community builders. They serve as models, mentors and inspiration for the participants just starting out.”
This psychedelic resurgence is in an exciting moment, one that offers the possibility to create new modes and models for mental health treatments. Yet as with any new frontier, it’s crucial to build solid foundations based on education and responsibility. Ensuring that tomorrow’s practitioners are receiving the proper training is vital to the health of the growing landscape. Mentors like Gehret are lending their expertise to help build these paradigms.
In the future, Gehret envisions practitioners offering a range of microdosing support: integration circles, one to one support, group programs, and weaving the practice into their existing healing modalities like bodywork, psychotherapy, end-of-life care, human design, hypnotherapy, and more.
“This new way of incorporating and blending complementary modalities is incredibly effective and also a breath of fresh air from the silos and gate-keeping we see within medical models of care where you need to get a referral for everything and the system is rigged for profit over the best interest of the patient,” she said. “It really is an exciting time to be in the healing professions and microdosing is an ideal practice and bridge for people to begin to think differently about their health and healing.”
Interested in learning more about how to become a professional specializing in microdosing? Enrollment for the September cohort of Vital is open, with limited seats available.
Following the multi-decade regulatory pursuit, legal MDMA-assisted therapy (MDMA-AT) seemed imminent to many people. In February 2024, the FDA accepted Lykos Therapeutics’ New Drug Application (NDA), and all markers indicated a likely approval.
However, on June 4, the Psychopharmacologic Drugs Advisory Committee (PDAC) shattered optimism when nearly all members advised the FDA to reject Lykos’ application.
In a 9-2 and 10-1 vote, the committee asserted its belief that MDMA therapy, as it stands, is neither effective nor safe for Americans with PTSD.
So, what is MDMA’s FDA approval status following the hearing?
The outlook seems grim, given that the FDA aligns with the advisory panel 88% of the time. Still, Lykos (formerly MAPS Public Benefit Corporation) remains hopeful.
“We believe there is a path forward and are focused on collaborating with the FDA as they continue to review our NDA over the months,” said Lykos in an email interview.
A final decision on MDMA for PTSD is expected on or around August 11th.
The Backstory
Starry-eyed psychedelic proponents didn’t see the dissent coming. The FDA had just granted Lykos’ NDA priority review, and everything seemed to be going smoothly.
However, the contention became clear on March 26, when the Institute of Clinical and Economic Review (ICER) published draft evidence on MDMA-assisted therapy for PTSD. In the report, ICER acknowledged MDMA’s potential to help people heal from trauma. However, it raised significant concerns about weaving this novel treatment into traditional medicine.
The TLDR of the report’s criticism was that Lykos’ clinical evidence did not sufficiently support MDMA therapy for PTSD. The report cited alleged data validity issues, potential biases from therapists and participants, and a reported incident of sexual misconduct. It also highlighted MDMA’s cardiovascular risks, unexamined adverse events, and lack of long-term data proving the therapy’s enduring effects.
A month later, five people submitted a citizen petition to the FDA commissioner requesting the organization convene an advisory committee meeting on MDMA-AT to discuss the application’s “shortcomings and risks.” The letter also called for an extended public comment period prioritizing concerned speakers, and a live webcast.
The letter’s primary claim against the NDA was that MAPS/Lykos allegedly “manipulated clinical trial data to hide adverse events from regulatory agencies, motivated in part by a belief that these agencies would not understand that these adverse events are a necessary part of their MDMA-AT.”
The FDA responded to the petition by granting the advisory committee meeting with an extended comment period. However, it denied the request to prioritize input from concerned stakeholders.
The Meeting
June 4th’s meeting was a nine-hour saga, inviting FDA members, public participants, Lykos representatives, and eleven PDAC panelists to debate the risks and benefits of MDMA-assisted therapy.
PDAC boasted various roles in the psychopharmacologic field, including consumer representatives, pharmacists, patient representatives, scholars, and physicians. It did not include experts from the field of psychedelic research. Nevertheless, by 5:30 p.m., the board confidently dismissed MDMA-AT’s ability to do more good than harm for PTSD.
Lykos told Psychedelics Today that they didn’t see the rejection coming.
“Going into the meeting, we knew this was a unique assignment for the panel to review a drug-plus therapy combination. We did, however, believe that the fact that studies showed MDMA-assisted therapy offers statistically significant and clinically meaningful improvement in PTSD symptoms and functional impairment compared to placebo across two phase 3 trials with evidence of durability over time would compel the panel to support approval.”
86.5% of patients in the MMDA-AT group clinically benefited from the treatment compared to 69% in the placebo group.
71.2% of the MDMA cohort no longer held a PTSD diagnosis, compared to 47.6% in the placebo group.
46.2% of MDMA patients achieved remission compared to 21.4% in the placebo cohort.
Despite the clinically impressive results, PDAC emphasized significant doubts about the data’s validity and MDMA-AT’s overall safety.
Functional Unblinding and Expectation Bias
Functional unblinding occurs when participants or researchers accurately predict the treatment they receive or administer. Expectation bias occurs when someone anticipates a particular result. Prior experience, previously held beliefs, and functional unblinding can cause such biases, potentially impacting patient experiences and reporting.
Dr. Paul Holtzheimer from the National Center for PTSD said, “Expectation bias can work in two ways. It can exaggerate the effect of the active treatment and blunt the effect of the placebo treatment.”
It’s true that 40% of the trial participants used MDMA in the past and may have assumed the drug worked based on prior positive experiences.
However, as Lykos points out in a recent statement, “The data indicates that prior illicit MDMA use had no impact on the results, as there was no meaningful difference in primary outcome measure or adverse events reported between the subgroup of Phase 3 participants who reported prior illicit MDMA use and the subgroup of participants who did not.”
Functional unblinding impacts, however, are far more debatable.
Renowned psychedelic drug researcher Matthew Johnson, PhD, explained Lykos’ unblinding problem in a recent X post.
Johnson said, “For those [in the study] thinking they got MDMA, the therapeutic effect was nearly identical between MDMA and placebo [groups]. Yikes.”
In other words, people who guessed they were on MDMA achieved similar therapeutic responses, whether or not they really took the drug.
Still, Johnson points out in The Illusion of Consensus podcast that functional unblinding is not a new issue for psychedelics, nor is it unique.
“There are a whole host of drugs that have been [FDA] approved. All of the sleep drugs… all of the anti-anxiety benzodiazepines, all the ADHD drugs… all of the opioid pain relievers. The practice of psychiatry is filled with psychoactive drugs that have very clear signatures… I want to know to what degree in FDA advisory panels this [functional unblinding issue] has come up… Because cutting through the blind is an issue for all these [compounds]… I don’t think psychedelics should be held to a higher standard than the normal process.”
Misconduct and Data Integrity
Potential misconduct during the MAPS / Lykos trials added to PDAC’s concerns about the integrity of the results.
Allegations included reports that principal investigators:
Discouraged patients with negative experiences, like suicidality, from participating in follow-up studies.
Influenced patients to report favorable outcomes.
Inconsistently recorded adverse events.
Purposely recruited patients who would respond well to MDMA therapy for PTSD.
PDAC also lamented the trials’ insufficient data on patients with severe trauma as well as an overall lack of diversity, citing low Black and Asian representation.
Dr. Melissa Barone, a psychologist from the Maryland Healthcare System, said, “There are so many problems with the data that each one alone might [be okay]… But when you pile them up on top of each other… I think there are still a lot of questions about how effective the treatment is and how durable it is.”
At least some of the mistrust centered on the perception that Lykos and MAPS founder Rick Doblin, PhD, are determined to push MDMA approval at any cost.
Lykos says, “Like all research sponsors, Lykos and its clinical sites are subject to regular FDA inspections. We have full confidence that the FDA will continue to assess the integrity of Lykos’ research through its inspection process.”
Durability of Effect
Lykos’ clinical trials show that MDMA-assisted therapy exhibited durable therapeutic effects for at least six months. However, PDAC questioned the claim for several reasons.
One was that patients utilized other integrative treatments in between MDMA therapy and the follow-up analysis, including:
Psychodynamic therapy
Eye movement desensitization reprocessing (EMDR)
Other cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT)
Group psychotherapy
Prolonged exposure
Cognitive processing therapy
Holotropic breathwork
Interpersonal therapy
The committee expressed that these therapies introduced “confounding factors,” which made it challenging to isolate MDMA-AT’s specific impact.
Meeting chair, Dr. Rajesh Narendran, added more skepticism. He said, “I’m not convinced that this drug is effective in the short term… PTSD is a disorder where symptoms can fluctuate quite a bit. We all know that. And I feel like there should have been more repeated assessments over time to gauge where these people are heading.”
Psychological Intervention
Lykos’ unique psychotherapeutic approach was another confounding factor impacting the data, according to PDAC.
The FDA does not regulate psychotherapy, so this sticking point was beyond the meeting’s scope. However, several participants expressed distrust over what they perceived as an unstandardized and unproven modality.
It employs standard protocols like Exposure Therapy, Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT), EMDR, and psychodynamic therapy. It also invites less conventional techniques, like Internal Family systems (IFS), Voice Dialogue, Hakomi, virtual reality, and Buddhist psychology.
Dr. Holtzheimer said, “I think the challenge here is that the psychotherapy in this case is not evidence-based yet.”
Dr. Barone added, “MDMA is not administered without the psychotherapy. And the psychotherapy is really vague. It is not well-determined. It seems like it was not standardized. And that makes it really hard to determine how effective it is…”
PDAC argued that the lack of standardization raises questions about the trials’ reproducibility and reliability. They also questioned the necessity of the therapy itself, wondering whether MDMA alone could elicit similar benefits.
Dr. Amanda Holley, a pharmacologist who previously worked at the FDA, explained this challenge in a recent Psychedelics Today Podcast.
“[The FDA] is having a hard time disentangling the contribution of therapy vs just MDMA. With this trial, they would’ve liked to see a factorial design that [tested] the therapy with the drug, an arm with the drug alone, and an arm with therapy alone. That would’ve given them a more holistic view of the data.”
Safety Concerns
Another data gap involved cardiovascular health risks, which panelists said were not fully assessed throughout the studies. They raised concerns that MDMA could cause heart attacks and strokes.
In The Illusion of Consensus podcast, Dr. Johnson explained that this argument was somewhat “absurd” due to MDMA’s known effects. Sure, it raises blood pressure and heart rate. But it’s a reasonable risk-benefit ratio. Johnson compared MDMA’s cardiovascular impact to Adderall, which doctors give to children every day.
“Even with a minor abnormality at the end of a session, it doesn’t mean it will lead to a clinical event like a stroke, which is extremely rare,” said Dr. Johnson.
The FDA said it should have required Lykos to take EKGs and blood samples after MDMA sessions. However, the agency admittedly approved Lykos’ study design without these measures.
The FDA’s admission did not shift the panelists’ perspective.
Sexual misconduct was another significant concern sparked by an incident in 2015.
A harrowing public comment on the matter came from Speaker 26, Sarah Grosh, who spoke as a proxy for Phase 2 participant Meaghan Buisson. In Buisson’s words, Grosh described the abuse that took place. Buisson’s descriptions of the assaults she suffered in session were recorded and are now publicly available.
Buisson also reported becoming suicidal during the trial and said that Lykos did not document this adverse event. She claimed MDMA therapy left her overwhelmingly vulnerable and led to further exploitation by her therapist, who she said trafficked her while still in the trial.
Grosh asserted that Lykos’ leadership did nothing to intervene after she filed the ethics complaint in 2018 and that they continue to deny any ethical violations.
Lykos responded in its statement, saying, “This was a terrible and harmful instance of malpractice that caused profound suffering to a participant. Lykos reported this violation to Health Canada, the FDA, and the relevant Institutional Review Board and banned the therapist pair associated with this case from all future work. Since then, we carefully developed and implemented new policies and practices aimed to prevent, detect, investigate, encourage reporting of, and thoroughly respond to potential instances of misconduct or unethical behavior.”
Prospects of FDA Approval
Amid the shadow of alleged misconduct, data misalignment, and safety concerns, PDAC voted an overwhelming no to MDMA treatment for PTSD. The FDA is not required to follow PDAC’s guidance. However, the overwhelming pushback casts serious doubt over whether 2024 will be Lykos’ year.
“It doesn’t look good at all. I imagine at some point MDMA will be approved for PTSD, but I wouldn’t put bets on it to be approved in August,” said Dr. Johnson.
Many people have read the statistic that the FDA aligns with advisory committees 88% of the time. However, a lesser-known fact is that in cases when the committee did not recommend approval, the FDA only agreed 67% of the time. This disparity leaves the door open for hope.
Another hopeful sign, according to Dr. Holley, is that the FDA prioritizes public health when making NDA decisions. The fact that current PTSD therapies are highly deficient and no new drugs have been approved in decades represents a significant healthcare failure.
Lykos maintains that MDMA-assisted therapy can meet the nation’s critical mental health needs, and it has not given up on approval.
“While we understand that the FDA considers advisory committee recommendations, most of the conversation at the meeting centered on known issues that have already been discussed and investigated. In addition, the panel was focused on the regulation of therapy outside the FDA’s purview.”
Lykos added that the organization is discussing a potential post-approval REMS (Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy) program with the FDA. REMS would seek to ensure patient safety and regulatory compliance through measures to monitor and manage risks.
“If FDA-approved, prescription MDMA-assisted therapy will be launched with careful consideration of its potential benefits and risks, following established medical guidelines, protocols, and quality standards,” said Lykos.
What’s Next if the FDA Approves MDMA-Assisted Therapy?
If the FDA approves Lykos’ application in August, the decision will spark a timeline that requires several bureaucratic steps before patients can access MDMA treatment for PTSD.
First, the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) must reschedule MDMA from Schedule I within three months of approval.
After the federal rescheduling, states must also reschedule the drug. Most have processes for automatic alignment, while others have state-specific scheduling procedures.
“Our plan is to make MDMA-assisted therapy available, if approved, in 2025,” said Lykos, who clarified that they would initially roll out the program to a limited number of sites.
What’s Next if Lykos’ Application Fails?
Lykos declined to speculate on what they might do if the new drug application for MDMA-AT fails.
However, in similar circumstances, trial sponsors must thoroughly rectify the issues through additional studies, further data collection, or modifications to the drug’s formulation, labeling, or manufacturing process. Once finished, sponsors must resubmit a package with all the information proving the issuers were resolved. The FDA then re-evaluates the application to determine if it meets the safety and regulatory requirements.
The process can delay FDA approval by a median of 435 days, requiring companies to spend significantly more time and money to get to the finish line.
The Bottom Line
PDAC does not think the current data proves MDMA therapy is effective for PTSD, nor does it believe the potential harms outweigh the risks. Lykos asserts that the clinical trial results speak for themselves and that treatment could significantly improve countless lives. Now, 13 million Americans with PTSD await MDMA’s FDA approval status in August.
Imagine a world where psychedelic-assisted therapy helps alleviate the mental health inequities faced by LGBTQ+ communities. This breakthrough could be closer than we think.
In recent years, psychedelic-assisted therapy has re-emerged as a promising frontier in mental health treatment. With substances like psilocybin and MDMA showing efficacy in recent clinical trials in treating major depressive disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), respectively, the prospect of psychedelic medicine is becoming more distinct, though uncertainties clearly remain.
However, as this field progresses, it is crucial to ensure that the benefits of these innovative treatments are accessible to all, particularly to those in marginalized communities. This includes sexually and gender-diverse people (or LGBTQ+ communities), who remain underrepresented in clinical research despite facing disproportionately high, inequitable rates of mental health challenges.
What are the current mental health disparities among LGBTQ+ communities, the limitations of the current psychedelic research landscape, and how we may move forward to improve clinical science and promote health equity? And further, how could psychedelic-assisted therapy alleviate minority stress-related mental health challenges among LGBTQ+ communities?
LGBTQ+ Mental Health and Minority Stress
LGBTQ+ individuals, encompassing a diverse spectrum of sexual and gender identities, experience unique stressors related to their minority status, or, more specifically, minoritization and oppression. These stigma-related stressors include chronic and persistent experiences of identity-related discrimination, interpersonal and internalized stigma, and expectations of rejection, all of which contribute significantly to mental health disparities, including higher rates of depression and anxiety beginning in childhood and adolescence.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) found in their Youth Risk Behavior Survey that over 20% of sexually diverse youth attempted suicide in 2021, compared to 6% of their heterosexual peers. Of note, the mental health climate varies among the sub-groups within the LGBTQ+ communities, with the CDC finding that over 30% of trans and gender-diverse youth attempted suicide in 2019 (compared to 7.3% of their cisgender peers). These alarming statistics underscore the urgent need for targeted mental health interventions for LGBTQ+ patient populations.
The minority stress theory, as initially developed by Ilan Meyer, provides a framework for understanding these disparities. This theory has been routinely supported by empirical data and posits that the chronic stress experienced by LGBTQ+ individuals due to societal stigma and discrimination – or minority stress – has profound negative effects on their mental health.
Meyer describes a ‘distal-proximal continuum,’ where distal minority stressors include stressors independent of individual psychological processes, like identity-related violence or family and peer rejection, while proximal minority stressors include stressors dependent on individual appraisals, such as internalized homo- and transphobia, or chronic threat vigilance.
Given these mental health considerations unique to LGBTQ+ communities, there is a pressing demand to investigate and potentially tailor psychedelic-assisted therapy within the contexts of these specific minority stressors to improve LGBTQ+ mental health outcomes.
Flaws in Current Psychedelic Research for LGBTQ+ Communities
Current clinical trials on psychedelic-assisted therapy have been criticized for their lack of diversity, particularly the underrepresentation of racially minoritized communities and LGBTQ+ communities. Indeed, the vast majority of recent clinical trials have not collected data on the trial participants’ sexual orientation and gender identity, leaving outstanding treatment questions for the LGBTQ+ communities.
The inclusion of LGBTQ+ participants in these clinical trials is not just a matter of equity but also scientific rigor and generalizability, as detailed by the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine. Additionally, understanding how psychedelic-assisted therapy interacts with the unique minority stressors faced by LGBTQ+ individuals may lead to more effective and inclusive treatment protocols.
A recent perspective published in Nature Mental Health by our team emphasizes the necessity of inclusive research, noting that systematic collection of sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI) data is crucial for assessing the impact, if any, of psychedelic-assisted therapy on minority stress processes.
Additionally, the article describes how the integration of minority stress theory with existing models of psychedelic action, such as the relaxed beliefs under psychedelics (REBUS) model, offers a promising avenue for future research. The REBUS model theorizes that psychedelics are therapeutic as they make entrenched, maladaptive cognitive and behavioral patterns more malleable, ripe for establishing newer patterns of behavior and facilitating examination of old patterns.
For LGBTQ+ individuals, whose mental health may be compromised by deeply ingrained negative beliefs and expectations due to chronic minority stress, such as internalized homo- and transphobia, this psychological flexibility may be particularly therapeutic. In theory, by alleviating the rigid, maladaptive cognitive and behavioral patterns associated with minority stress, psychedelic-assisted therapy may facilitate profound psychological healing and resilience among LGBTQ+ communities. However, until research becomes more equitable, much will remain unknown for the LGBTQ+ communities–and these theories will remain hypotheses.
How LGBTQ+ Psychedelic Research Can Improve
To advance this research, several steps are essential.
First, there must be focused recruitment efforts, with study and site-specific strategies, to ensure the inclusion of diverse sexual and gender identities in psychedelic clinical trials.
Second, researchers need to systematically collect and analyze SOGI data to understand specific impacts of psychedelic-assisted therapy on sexually and gender-diverse populations, who make up over 20% of Generation Z, according to a recent Gallup Poll.
Third, clinical trials should incorporate outcomes designed to assess minority stress processes explicitly.
And finally, developing and testing SGM-affirmative adaptations of psychedelic-assisted therapy protocols will be crucial in making these therapies potentially more effective and accessible to LGBTQ+ individuals. Importantly, such efforts must be complemented by comprehensive initiatives to establish an inclusive, affirming, and empowering environment for LGBTQ+ trial participants across each phase of the clinical trial.
These efforts, however, must be mentioned in conjunction with addressing the historical distrust between the LGBTQ+ communities and the medical establishment. LGBTQ+ individuals have experienced discrimination and stigmatization in health care settings and research, which can deter them from seeking care or participating in clinical trials.
Rebuilding trust requires the inclusion of LGBTQ+ researchers, clinicians, and community members in the design and implementation of psychedelic-assisted therapy clinical trials, with explicit acknowledgment and redress of this harmful past. This approach better ensures that future research is conducted in a culturally competent, trauma-informed manner, fostering a safer and more welcoming environment for LGBTQ+ trial participants.
Moving Forward with LGBTQ+ Inclusivity
The potential for psychedelic-assisted therapy to address the mental health disparities faced by LGBTQ+ communities deserves our attention. Realizing the potential of psychedelic-assisted therapy requires a concerted effort to include these populations in inclusive, affirmative research and to investigate treatments tailored to their unique health needs.
As the field of psychedelic research moves forward, it must do so with a commitment to inclusivity and equity, ensuring that the benefits of these groundbreaking therapies are available to all who need them. By expanding the scope of psychedelic clinical trials to include LGBTQ+ populations, while exploring LGBTQ-affirmative treatment models, we can move towards a more inclusive, effective, and compassionate approach to psychedelic research and mental health care. It is also imperative to rectify the historical underrepresentation and to advance mental health equity in meaningful ways.
As we continue to explore the therapeutic potential of psychedelics, let us do so with a vision of health care that embraces and uplifts every individual, importantly recognizing sexual and gender diversity. In doing so, we will not only enhance the validity and applicability of research findings but also ensure that the transformative potential of psychedelic-assisted therapy reaches those who need it most.
The journey towards mental health equity is long, but with deliberate and inclusive efforts, we can make significant strides in creating a world where every individual, regardless of their sexual or gender identity, can access and benefit from cutting-edge mental health treatments.
Disclaimer: The content of this article does not constitute medical advice. At the time of this writing, psychedelics remain largely illegal in the United States. We urge parents to consult with doctors and legal experts before considering psychedelic therapy for their children.
*All names and identifying features have been changed to protect the privacy of the youths featured in this article.
Mark* was 16 when he dreamt of ending his life. Jessica* was just 15 when she tried. Ketamine therapy saved them both, their clinicians say.
Mia* faced an eating disorder at 16. Her mom’s decision to book her a psilocybin retreat in Mexico led Mia to eat normally again that year.
19-year-old Justin* lived with phobias, anxieties, and bouts of depression. An underground mushroom journey and integration coaching enabled him to feel acceptance and autonomy for the first time.
Mia, Justin, Mark, and Jessica’s teen brains hadn’t fully formed when they ingested these psychedelics. And long-term research on adolescent entheogen use is limited. Yet, parents like Mark’s and Jessica’s are pursuing psychedelic healing for their depressed teens.
Sometimes, parents seek psychedelics as a ‘hail Mary pass’ after traditional antidepressants fail. Other times, psychedelics are the preferred first line of defense. Desperate to ease their children’s suffering, parents are pursuing solutions that break this taboo known to Western culture.
Here, we explore the parent-led phenomena of psychedelic therapy for teens, spanning ketamine clinics, psychedelic retreat centers, and underground circles.
Traditional Youth Psychedelic Use Around the World
Every psychedelic experience is different. Many are uncomfortable. However, the perception that only adults can effectively harness their healing power is steeped in narrow modern framing. The view does not hold up against centuries of use among Indigenous cultures that give young children plant medicine for spiritual and cultural initiation purposes.
The Fang tribe in Gabon, for instance, administers ibogaine to children between the ages of eight and ten. Brazil’s Santo Daime Church members give ayahuasca microdoses to babies, and the Huichol of Mexico give peyote to children starting at age six. The Huichol also use plant medicines prenatally and while breastfeeding to prevent miscarriage, support fetal growth, and enhance breast milk.
Family-based psychedelic rituals remain a common practice in Mexico, according to Andrew Tansil, co-owner of Mexican psilocybin retreat center Sayulita Wellness.
He recalls the time when Sayulita was a local center serving only Mexican nationals.
“People would bring their children as young as five or six, and they would do bufo, the Sonoran toad medicine, and have whole family experiences.”
Sayulita does not serve young children today. However, the center regularly accepts accompanied minors from all over the world starting at 16.
Why Parents Are Seeking Psychedelic Therapy for Teens
Parent-led inquiries on psychedelics have steadily increased over the past few years at Sayulita, with about one teen traveling there monthly. Sometimes, the center welcomes whole households, including parents and children, who ingest the medicine together. Other times, teens engage in private psychedelic sessions with Sayulita’s registered nurse practitioners. One parent must go with minors to these retreats.
Most teens who visit Sayulita have mental health concerns like depression or anxiety. However, eating disorders are the most common problem among young girls like Mia. Fortunately, many emerge from the psilocybin experience transformed.
“Mia was a superstar. She left the retreat eating all kinds of food and continued the trend back at home. Mia really moved forward and did so fearlessly. She got out of her way, and that was the whole intention of the experience,” Tansil said.
Eating disorders are not so common among Certified Psychedelic Coach Ehren Cruz’s young adult clients. However, many suffer from persistent unexplained anxieties, like Justin. Others face existential emergencies. All seek Cruz’s coaching services to prepare for and integrate psychedelic experiences into lasting change.
“The demographic of people reaching out is getting younger. Eighteen to 24-year-olds want to launch into the world with more purpose than the provisional life their parents built. They want alignment but don’t know how to achieve it, and the disconnect is causing a real crisis.”
Cruz finds that parents of these young adults see psychedelics as an bright pathway through the harrowing transition period.
“Parents have often gone through mental health struggles themselves. They have been in talk therapy and on SSRIs (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors) and have navigated the world from that muted sensory capacity. Now, they’re raising collegiate-age children with similar issues and want to handle healing differently.”
Cruz states that many parents seek psychedelics over SSRIs for teens to avoid clinical diagnoses. However, other parents find their way to psychedelics when all else has failed.
And if new research is any indication of the efficacy of psychedelics for teens, parents may no longer have to rely on anecdotes and their instincts to help them decide whether the compounds are the right choice for their child’s treatment.
The study aimed to investigate the long-term psychological effects and side effects associated with psychedelic use among adolescents between 16 and 24. Results indicted that not only did the teens have a greater sense of well-being after psychedelic use, they were less prone to depression, suicidal ideation, and delusional thinking.
How Ketamine Therapy is Helping Teens
D.C.-area ketamine clinic Avesta Ketamine and Wellness receives many calls from parents seeking psychedelic therapy for treatment-resistant teens. The center treats about one adolescent per quarter, like 15-year-old Jessica, who are severely depressed or nearing the brink of suicide.
Avesta co-founder Dr. Ladan Eshkevari welcomes this population because she believes ketamine saves young lives. She recognizes the potential risks but doesn’t see them as unique to young patients.
“Ketamine is a generally safe medication, but can be habit-forming in all patients,” said Eshkevari, adding, “the compound is rapid-acting with minimal side effects when done in a controlled setting, with providers trained to use it appropriately. Research shows ketamine induces synaptogenesis-growth of new synapses, impacting neuroplasticity.”
In other words, ketamine is well-tolerated at any age while helping form new connections between brain cells and reversing damage caused by stress and depression. This process typically improves mood and quickly reverses suicidal thoughts.
Fortunately for Jessica and Mark, many ketamine clinics accept teen patients. Some centers treat children as young as six.
Mark’s mom, Dana, recalls her son’s history of depression, anxiety, attention deficit disorder, and panic attacks starting at 14. At 16, he began expressing suicidal intentions.
At 18, Mark had a severe dystonic reaction to his antipsychotic medication, Abilify, involving intense involuntary muscle spasms. He refused to continue the medication afterward, so Dana searched tirelessly for alternatives.
“I second-guessed myself and worried that Mark would somehow get addicted… but in the end, it was his decision,” said Dana.
After Mark’s physician and psychiatrist agreed, Dana brought her son to Priority You ketamine clinic in Clearwater, Florida.
“By the sixth infusion, Mark felt different and no longer had suicidal ideation. He felt hopeful and creative for the first time in years,” said Dana.
The ‘Rubber Band Effect,’ Close Monitoring, and Expert Support
Mark worked with a therapist for two months after the protocol, developing healthy life skills like nutritious eating, exercising, and engaging with nature. However, four months later, he had a setback after his best friend committed suicide.
Mark went back to the clinic for an infusion. However, instead of feeling better, the ketamine experience confronted him with deeply repressed guilt.
“He had a breakdown,” said Dana.
Like Mark, Justin faced mental health deterioration after his psychedelic experience. However, Justin’s distress appeared just weeks later, and for different reasons.
“We call it the ‘rubber band effect,’” said Cruz.
The rubber band effect refers to the period after the peak experience when the mood-boosting psychedelic glow wears off. Initially, the person feels empowered and capable of transformative change. However, weeks or months later, old fears, egoic patterns, and anxieties can resurface with a vengeance.
“As the mind returns to its normal state, it can perceive the psychedelic insights as threats and tries to reassert itself,” said Ehren.
Justin’s rubber band smacked him into a full-on spiritual emergency. He experienced suicidal thoughts, couldn’t sleep, and started taking stabilizing medications.
“In [recent] conversations with Justin, he said he wouldn’t trade the psychedelic experience. He found the true grace and the essential self he was looking for. But he’s still coming through it two or three months later. The situation was incredibly disruptive,” said Cruz.
Justin and Mark’s psychedelic therapy challenges are common amongst people of all ages. However, young people are particularly vulnerable because they lack engrained self-regulation skills. The shaky emotional defenses teens have mean they need attentive, professional support before, during, and long after breakthrough psychedelic sessions to process fears, contend with disruptive insights, and avoid re-traumatization.
“It’s a big responsibility, and you must ensure young people have a support structure, a network, and other channels to hold it down,” said Cruz.
Ehkevari agrees.
“At Avesta, we ensure adolescents have a lot of support from parents, therapists, psychiatrists, and pediatricians.”
“… differences in acute subjective effects, specifically the less positive role of ego-dissolution experiences for long-term changes in adolescents, as well as a higher prevalence of HPPD-related symptoms suggest that special considerations might be required when assessing psychedelic treatment design and risks,” the report cautions.
Therapeutic intervention helped Mark a great deal after his friend’s suicide. Talk therapy and two additional ketamine infusions allowed him to process and heal the repressed emotions that the first session revealed. Mark started college a month later and is pursuing a degree in game design.
He visits the clinic for booster ketamine doses every six months.
“I don’t think Mark would still be here now if it weren’t for ketamine,” said Dana. “Mark still experiences anxiety. However, he does not have to take medication for it because he’s learned to cope.”
Coping with life’s ups and downs while staying present for the ride is precisely the promise that psychedelics offer. Parents like Dana value that pledge and are helping their teens feel their way through pain rather than medicating their young minds and managing symptoms.
“Current medications have a 70% failure rate and come with a whole host of side effects, with a long uptake time. I think patients and their families are starting to think about treatments that may get to the brain’s ability to heal versus medications that are mainly for symptom management,” said Eshkeavari.
According to Tansil, starting these alternative treatments earlier in life could be crucial.
“Younger people have less conditioning. And so they have a higher chance of having positive, transformational psychedelic experiences. The young person’s mind is also more open. So, healing happens much quicker and more fluidly.”
“The number one comment I hear from people over 60 who come to Sayulita is, ‘I wish I would’ve done this so much earlier in life.”
During a crowded mid-pandemic Zoom seminar on microdosing for addiction treatment, a few attendees raised caution over the dangerously simplistic ways in which addiction was being presented. Within moments, a frenzy of animosity resounded.
“Why are you bringing your negativity here?” one participant asked.
“The presenters are doing great—why not recognize that?” another chimed in.
“If you don’t like microdosing, you can git out!” yet another declared.
I would have been surprised if I hadn’t witnessed other psychedelic conversations where “negativity” was not welcome and legitimate criticism was deemed “bad vibes.” What did surprise me was the group’s validation – even the facilitator joined in and scolded the critics. Then again, since such critiques threatened his microdosing livelihood, I suppose his attitude made sense.
I noticed a similar – albeit more concerning trend – arise in February 2021, when a video surfaced of former 5-MeO-DMT facilitator Dr. Martin Ball boastfully recounting the time he vomited on the face of a client incapacitated by the powerful toad venom. For each objection to Ball’s blatantly unethical behavior, a defense kicked back, spitefully ridiculing the judgmental “snowflakes” and their “low vibrations.”
I’m all for a fair trial. But some actions are not OK, and vomiting on the face of an incapacitated person in your care is one of them. Evidently, many psychonauts disagree.
What is this trend I’m pointing to, this negativity about negativity, this shaming of voices raising valid concerns? This is a trend I’m calling “psychedelic bypassing.”
Psychedelic Bypassing: The many ways the mind can excuse abuse, ignore the darker sides of ourselves, categorize the vast scale of emotions into little boxes of “good” and “bad,” and cast aside anything deemed “lesser than” — all in the pursuit of a more enlightened life.
A Primer on Spiritual Bypassing
To understand psychedelic bypassing, it’s important to first understand spiritual bypassing.
In 1984, meditation teacher and psychotherapist John Welwood coined the term “spiritual bypassing.” As laid out in Robert Augustus Masters’ book Spiritual Bypassing: When Spirituality Disconnects Us from What Really Matters, spiritual bypassing is “the use of spiritual practice and beliefs to avoid dealing with our painful feelings, unresolved wounds, and developmental needs.”
In other words, it is disguising patterns of avoidance with New Age lingo that liberates us from confronting difficult and painful realities. In short, Masters describes spiritual bypassing as “avoidance in holy drag” — a strategy “not only for avoiding pain but also for legitimizing such avoidance.”
But What Does This Have to Do With Psychedelics?
Don’t psychedelics force us to confront difficult and painful realities, no matter how fervently we resist? A lot of the time, yes. But not all the time.
Amidst abundant scientific research demonstrating that psychedelics catalyze profound healing for an ever-expanding cast of conditions, many advocates appear to have forgotten that psychedelics can also inflict harm. Despite suggestions from mainstream narratives, taking psychedelics is not a guaranteed route to healing. Just as psychedelics can heal our wounds, they can also amplify our capacity to avoid those wounds — and, in the case of the face-vomiting Ball, even inflict them on others.
Plunder the depths of Erowid and you’ll find no shortage of reports of psychedelics catalyzing psychotic breaks. Read through Chacruna‘s website, and you’ll find abundant articles on sexism and racism in psychedelic spaces, sometimes at high levels of influential organizations. Dig deeper, and you’ll find stories of people being physically, psychologically, and sexually abused in “safe” psychedelic environments.
Psychedelics are non-specific amplifiers, meaning they can amplify our darkness as well as our light. Just as psychedelics can open space for curious inquiry and new perspectives, they also provide fertile ground for embedding distorted beliefs and behaviors more deeply. If psychedelics solely induced awakening, why would the CIA spend decades researching their potential to control people in myriad ways?
Intention and context make all the difference. When self-delusion is the operating principle, psychedelics can amplify the delusion. And we mustn’t underestimate the mind’s capacity to delude itself. In the words of Carl Jung, “People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls.”
And still a perspective spreads that psychedelics can only transform our world for the better, and anyone who raises concerns about their potential harms is a “threat to the movement.” Victims and their allies are silenced by a chorus of proselytizers who justify themselves, saying, “We’re so close to FDA approval! It’s not worth putting all this progress in jeopardy!”
No one wants another Nixon slamming down the great gavel on substances that can clearly help countless people. But when avoidant patterns proliferate unchecked, they become a culture, and when a culture avoids serious issues and vilifies those who speak about them, that culture deepens traumatic neural pathways that damage ourselves, our loved ones, and our world.
No matter how enraptured in the Godhead its constituents become, a culture that evades its most pervasive issues will never be a culture of widespread healing.
Why Do People Engage in Psychedelic Bypassing?
Sometimes, it’s as simple as refusing to hear what we don’t want to hear. For instance, early in 2021, preliminary research from Imperial College London showed that the life-enhancing benefits of microdosing, as reported on countless podcasts and blogs, may be attributable to the placebo effect.
The response of the microdosing community?
A chorus of people instantly ripped on the study, refusing to consider the possibility that the results had validity, because… well, the results didn’t jive with their beliefs (or their business interests).
Such instances of bypassing are easy to recognize. Other times, bypassing is more complex, stemming from sources beyond the reach of awareness.
Psychological vs. Spiritual Bypassing
Robert Augustus Masters argues that bypassing flourishes when the spiritual is separate from and given more significance than the psychological. Countless spiritual practices emphasize “letting go” of pain, securing stability in a palace of positivity whose iron gates seal out all dementors. “Don’t mind the dementors that breach the castle in your nightmares!” the spiritual teacher preaches. “Just focus on the light, and your pain will dissolve away.”
The thing is, that pain often stems from psychological wounds, and spiritual practice that denies it won’t make it disappear. While meditation can be healing, it can also enhance patterns of disassociation and withdrawal that bar people from experiencing intimacy and love.
Buddhist teacher Jack Kornfield speaks to this phenomenon in his book, A Path With Heart. After a decade of vigorous Buddhist training, Kornfield felt he had resolved his issues. However, when he returned to the States and entered a romantic relationship, he found he was “still emotionally immature, acting out the same painful patterns of blame and fear, acceptance and rejection that I had before my Buddhist training.”
Kornfield’s monastic isolation kept him distant from his deepest wounds, which were relational in nature. “I’ve seen how many other students misunderstand spiritual practice, how many have hoped to use it to escape from their lives” and “avoid the pains and difficulties of human existence” writes Kornfield.
Whether we meditate for decades or blast ourselves into cosmic unity with every psychedelic under the sun, we still may be avoiding the most pertinent issues stunting our psychological development.
The Traps of Transcendence and Oneness
Transcendence is a psychedelic buzzword, often regarded as a healing path of “overcoming” wounds and becoming more whole. It can also justify bypassing, for many transcenders cast negative judgment on that which must be transcended — often their psychological and emotional pain.
“When transcendence of our personal history takes precedence over intimacy with our personal history, spiritual bypassing is inevitable,” Masters writes. Healthy transcendence embraces that which is transcended, while “unhealthy transcendence avoids it, making a spiritual virtue out of rising above whatever is deemed ‘lower’ or ‘darker’ elements of our nature.”
In the framework of influential transpersonal psychologist Ken Wilber, development is not about transcending, but transcending and including what came before.
Transcendence is similar to another psychedelic buzzword, “oneness.” In the face of conflict and difference, many psychedelic advocates like to remind others that “we are all one.” While this is true at some metaphysical level, it invalidates the reality of difference and the struggles many face because of those differences, such as people who hold marginalized identities and experience overt oppression every day.
What kind of “oneness” casts out all who don’t bliss out on the same medicine? Nothing more than the oneness of a bubble that resists what threatens to pop it.
The Happy Place Where Egos Die
Masters writes that we are vulnerable to spiritual bypassing when we practice to reach a better place — where suffering is abolished, where love and light reign in the resuscitated Garden of Eden.
When that’s the ideal, we villainize and shame the parts of ourselves we believe block us from that idealized perfection. We may even deny their existence, because according to our high/low, positive/negative ethic, these parts indicate we are far from reaching Happy Fun Land. If we’ve been presenting ourselves as a spiritually-evolved being, then no one can know about these parts of us. So we shove them down with a Buddha smile, forcing ourselves to connect to compassion and eliminate the enemy of our “lower” nature.
This trend is especially evident in the psychedelic concept of “ego death.” Psychedelic folks often villainize the “ego,” which is typically comprised of these “lower” aspects of our nature. When ego death is the aim, anything resembling ego becomes an obstacle. When ego is not recognized as an essential part of our inner world, that essential part of our inner world becomes the villain, creating a war within ourselves.
I imagine this is partly due to psychedelic healing being framed in the same way that yoga, meditation, and numerous “alternative” healing methods are marketed: Do this, and your life will improve dramatically. This idea is even more intoxicating with psychedelics because a) they work faster, and b) a boatload of science backs up their efficacy. But when we fall prey to this “magic pill” mentality, we follow a falsely advertised claim that psychedelics will transport us to Big Rock Candy Mountain, where our egoic problems evaporate.
This thin narrative brings too little focus to the fact that psychedelic healing isn’t sustainable without significant changes in lifestyle and thought patterns. Feeling awesome and gaining perspective on your suffering is rarely sufficient. It is the beginning of a new path, and without commitment to new ways of being, benefits tend to vanish as quickly as they appeared.
Psychedelic folks often speak of “integration” as some finite place, like, “I integrated deep realizations about my anxiety on MDMA, so now it’s gone!” Healing isn’t always linear, nor is it about arrival. It can be cyclical, and when we cling to states of bliss, we bypass whatever threatens those states’ supremacy. Integration isn’t a final arrival, but an ongoing process of active engagement. As Jung wrote, “There is no linear evolution; there is only a circumambulation of the self.”
Recognizing Dualistic Thinking
Bypassing can also be a symptom of dualistic thinking getting carried into the nondual realms psychedelics can open, where reality does not abide by rational structures. Rather than categorical frameworks like “good/bad” and “self/other” ruling the day, the ground of truth becomes paradox, beyond the reach of reason’s limits. As rationality fights to make sense of such an experience, it often subjects the paradoxical to the categorical, applying dualistic labels like “good” and “bad,” and “me” and “not me” to the experience.
Picture this: say I have a mystical experience on five grams of mushrooms, and I realize that at my core, I am love embodied. I’m so immersed in the experience that I am certain my demons have been forever cleansed. Three days later, I get cut off on the highway, and a familiar anger takes hold as I curse that reckless SOB. I pause, thinking, “This anger can’t be me, because I now know I am pure love, and I can’t be love and simultaneously feel such hostility.” So I reject my anger, creating a schism in my psyche that spawns a dualistic battle that will rage indefinitely, no matter how vehemently I deny it.
If, on the other hand, I recognize that I can be love embodied and feel intense anger at the same time, I give myself more space. In that space, I can feel anger without identifying it or fearing it is me at the core.
Passivity and Aversion to Anger
In numerous spiritual communities, anger is the quintessential “low vibe” emotion. Countless frameworks teach to restrict its expression, if not eliminate it completely. Only then can you abide in whatever nirvanic illusion is the goal.
The problem is, anger is an essential human emotion, and a powerful one. Powerful emotions don’t just go away when we deny them. They get stronger, and even if we stop ourselves from expressing them externally, we end up expressing them toward ourselves.
“There isn’t any such thing as a negative emotion,” Masters writes. “There are negative things we do with our emotions, but our emotions themselves are neither negative nor positive. They simply are.”
When we judge anger, we are often judging harmful expressions of anger, such as hostility and violence. The emotion and the behavior are distinct, and becoming more intimate with the emotion and its sources will open healthier, more conscious avenues of expression.
When we judge our anger as “bad energy,” we judge it as such in others. When a community validates that judgment as virtuous, that community shuns an essential emotion that has a lot to teach us about boundaries, needs, and deep wounds.
In hearing about practitioners abusing clients, it makes sense to be angry. If we shun our anger, we disregard the wisdom of this response and may even justify the practitioner’s behavior, saying, “They’re doing their best. Who am I to judge if that’s right or wrong?” In that response, both our anger and someone’s harmful behavior are bypassed under a distorted ethic of “acceptance” and “forgiveness.” This encourages a passivity akin to numbness, a glorified distancing from a dark reality and the looming prospect of confrontation. It’s more comfortable to just “let it go.”
Maybe this trend is reducible to a reluctance to cast judgment. Moral relativism — the notion that each person’s moral code is justified unto itself — is a seductive ethos, but it promotes a passivity that allows harm to flourish unchecked. Anger about harmful behaviors is not “bad energy”; it is a valid, important response to issues that could implode this whole psychedelic renaissance if they remain unchecked. Transformation can only come by calling problematic issues to conscious light, and anger can sometimes show us where those issues lay.
What is Guru Syndrome?
The psychedelic space is home to many self-appointed “guru” facilitators, many of whom are far less skilled at facilitation than they are at bypassing. How else could a self-described “healer” inflict sexual abuse on participants — an ongoing problem in psychedelic spaces — and free themselves of responsibility?
According to Masters, this form of bypassing spawns from “delusions of having arrived at a higher level of being.” Quite likely, these facilitators have had profound psychedelic experiences, and they mistakenly “confuse the attainment of such states with being at an advanced stage of spiritual practice.”
Here’s where psychedelics create a particularly tricky form of bypassing. Unlike meditation, which can take years to induce a peak experience, psychedelics can rocket anyone into sudden confrontation with the mystical. The confrontation can be so earth-shattering that the individual emerges completely certain they have been reborn, where yesterday’s troubles that occupied their “previous self” have forever melted away. That may be true for a while, but what about when yesterday’s troubles return? Since this experience birthed them anew, those troubles can no longer be them, right? This person fails to recognize this new “egoless” persona is actually the structure of a new ego that bears more similarities to the previous one than they care to admit. And how could it not, with root issues continuing to fester unresolved?
The danger then emerges as justification of harmful behavior. “Even clearly abusive behavior on the part of a spiritual teacher may be excused as an opportunity for students to grow in their practice,” Masters writes. It’s gaslighting to the extreme, fueled by an ego-boasting infallibility under the claim it is egoless and insusceptible to “lower” impulses.
It may be tempting to pass this trend off to a handful of underground practitioners, but recent revelations again show that above-ground clinicians are susceptible as well. Researcher Matthew Johnson describes this trend as “the inclination to believe that the nature of the experiences people have on psychedelics are so sacred or important that the normal rules do not apply, whether they be the rules governing clinical boundaries, the practice of clinical psychology or medicine, sound philosophy of science, or ethics.”
“Psychedelics might magnify the subtle abuses of differential power that can be at play in the routine practice of clinical psychology or medicine,” Johnson continues. “The scientist or clinician might, perhaps without explicit awareness, fall into the trap of playing guru or priest, imparting personal philosophies without a solid empirical basis.”
While psychedelics can amplify the healing of therapy, they can also amplify the transference — a client’s unconscious feelings toward the therapist. If practitioners are adept at bypassing, they are vulnerable to excess countertransference — the therapist’s feelings in response to the client’s transference. That countertransference can manifest in harmful ways, and the practitioner can justify their harmful behaviors as “part of the client’s healing” — exactly how Martin Ball justified vomiting on his client’s face.
Responsibility in Facilitating Journeys in Non-Ordinary States
What level of psychedelic bypassing has to occur for people who have allegedly perpetrated significant abuses in psychedelic spaces to rise the ranks and become some of the most influential spokespeople of the entire psychedelic ecosystem?
Part of me wants to give those who stay silent during abuse scandals the benefit of the doubt, to bury my responses beneath a higher kind of “understanding” and “forgiveness.”
Maybe everyone deserves a second chance, but giving people a shot at redemption cannot be the same as enabling them to perpetuate harms without consequence. Taking an honest look at our capacity to bypass, with or without psychedelics, strikes me as a good place to start.
Editor’s Note:To date, no empirical studies have concluded that psychedelics cure long COVID. Though case study research in this area is ongoing, this article represents one person’s experience and should not be taken as medical advice. For a more comprehensive understanding of this topic, we encourage you to listen to the full episode of our May 31, 2024 podcast, which includes a broader conversation with experts in the field.
Driven by a deep need for relief and guided by curiosity, in 2022 I turned to psychedelics in my battle against long COVID. What started as a mission to manage post-viral symptoms transformed into a meaningful exploration of psychedelic healing, culminating in unexpected relief, and a shift in my life path. This is my story of navigating the challenges of long COVID, the healthcare system, and my own journey to recovery through the use of psychedelic medicines.
The Turning Point
While I might not be the typical image of a person experimenting with psychedelics, my situation led me there. A married 40-something suburban mother of two, working in academia and technology, I was an unlikely candidate for a psychedelic journey. Yet, desperation and long COVID pushed me in this direction. The fear of stigma and the potential impact on my professional reputation initially made me hesitant to share my experience with substances that remain illegal. However, meeting Court Wing, a passionate advocate for the potential of psychedelics in treating chronic pain and long COVID, changed my perspective. I met Court at a Plant Parenthood integration circle for parents using plant medicines. In that session, I discussed my initial experiences with plant medicines, unaware that this would lead to my story being featured in a medical journal, and even mentioned in TIME magazine.
The Challenge of Long COVID
In early 2022, my life seemed on track. I had a great job at a Canadian university, a bustling family life, and I had just started a Ph.D. My husband, Neil, supported my career ambitions as a full-time caregiver to our children. The U.S.-Canada border reopening in early 2022 prompted me to take the kids to visit family in Connecticut.
We were fully vaccinated and took precautions to keep from contracting the virus. But the Omicron variant was still circulating, and at some point before leaving for our trip, we were exposed and became ill.
The journey back to Canada, coupled with an extended isolation and constant scrutiny from health authorities, left me exhausted, stressed, and at a low point in my mental health.
Severe COVID-19 patients often arrive at the hospital already in respiratory crises. I never needed oxygen, but COVID-19 devastated my body and brain in many ways, initially unbeknownst to me. The aftermath was debilitating: I couldn’t think or regulate my emotions, suffered from severe fatigue, confusion, headaches, and a deepening depression. The healthcare system offered little support, with constant changes in my primary care situation and delayed access to a long COVID clinic.
Determined to recover, I initially pushed myself too hard, only to relapse and sink deeper into despair. I then shifted to prioritizing self-care, including meditative walks in the forest, which helped mildly with depression and brain fog but hit a plateau in cognitive recovery.
After a few months, I was finally able to get a referral, and was accepted into the local hospital’s long COVID rehab clinic. I was so relieved that I would finally get proper care. Then the other shoe dropped – ‘getting in’ only meant that I was now on the waitlist. The estimated wait was a staggering seven months.
From then on, I entered reluctantly into a new phase of acceptance. I made self-care my only priority.
Despite the lack of health care, I took my care and rehabilitation into my own hands. I joined long COVID online communities and read the recent research.
Turning to Psychedelics for Help with Long COVID
My research on emerging treatments led me to anecdotes of psychedelics aiding COVID-related olfactory loss and brain fog. The growing evidence of psychedelics treating depression, anxiety, addictions, and trauma piqued my interest further. Though no clinical trials were testing psychedelics for long COVID, the safety and efficacy in related conditions motivated me to experiment on myself.
My journey led me to a friend and trained guide, Kate, who understood my symptoms due to her own severe traumatic brain injury. Kate guided me through a psilocybin and MDMA-assisted ceremony that became a transformational experience, comparable to the births of my children in its impact. Almost overnight, my anxiety and depression vanished and my cognitive clarity returned. My headaches eased dramatically. The veil of the long COVID fog was gone.
Learning to Live Again
I cautiously eased back into life. I experienced no crashes in the week following the ceremony, and continually increased my exercise until I reached my pre-COVID workout routine. The day I reached my usual 40 laps in the pool, I knew in my heart that I was truly on the path to recovery. Within weeks of this journey, I initiated a progressive return to work.
Over time, I began to see sharing my story as a responsibility to those suffering from long COVID and other conditions that could benefit from psychedelic medicines. My experience has profoundly changed my personal and professional direction, and I am now pursuing studies in Psychedelics and Consciousness at the University of Ottawa.
My greatest hope is that I can contribute in some small way to the launch of clinical trials for the use of MDMA and psilocybin for the treatment of long COVID. My story is mine alone, but hopefully it will serve to inspire others.
Psychedelics have been a part of Australia’s cultural landscape for decades, gaining renewed interest for their potential for healing and self-exploration. If you’re considering or pursuing a career in psychedelics in Australia or want to understand how we got to where we are, you need to know where we’ve been.
The Deep Past and Early History of Psychedelics in Australia
It’s worth noting this article was written from a non-Indigenous perspective. So, even with the best intentions, any discussion of pre-European psychedelic history given here is inherently incomplete.
Australia has a long and rich history of customs, traditions, and knowledge that pre-dates European colonization by many tens of thousands of years. So, it’s natural to ask about the Indigenous use of species such as Psilocybe subaeruginosa.
Anthropological and historical records don’t support that Indigenous Australians used plants or fungi as classic psychedelics. But we don’t know what natural medicinal knowledge was lost through the widespread displacement, genocide, and destruction of culture that First Nations in Australia have experienced since colonization began in 1788. So, we can’t know for sure.
Some people believe there is secret Indigenous knowledge of psychedelics. If there is, maybe once we collectively acknowledge that modern Australia is built on stolen land, we’d finally be deserving of it. A great deal more reconciliation work needs to be done to improve understanding of Indigenous culture and connection to plant medicine generally.
Regarding psychedelics, Australia was quiet for the next hundred and fifty years after colonization. But during that time, we developed a voracious appetite for mind-altering substances, particularly alcohol, opium, and cocaine. Sadly, we were also relatively early adopters of racially and politically motivated laws prohibiting drugs (other than alcohol, of course). So, when psychedelics finally came onto the scene, we were primed to adopt them enthusiastically and make the same legal and social mistakes as basically every other country attempting to manage drugs in their respective societies.
The Counterculture Psychedelic Explosion
Two factors primarily drove the emergence of psychedelics into popular culture in Australia. One was the Vietnam War. American service personnel based here or visiting on leave bought many novel ideas – one of them was LSD (along with heroin and cannabis).
The other was the rise of surfing culture over the ’60s. This attracted surfers, including many from California, who knew about Psilocybe cubensis. In 1969, the Sydney Sunday Telegraph and the Canberra Times claimed that people in southern Queensland and northern New South Wales were eating Psilocybe cubensis for its psychedelic effects. Mycologists, J. Picker and R.W. Rickards reported psilocybin in the native P. subaeruginosa in 1970, and awareness of the potency of this native mushroom spread quickly.
Like the rest of the world, the counterculture era in Australia was also a time when psychedelics were used in questionable circumstances. One of the most high-profile examples centers on a cult known as The Family (also known as Santiniketan Park Association or the Great White Brotherhood). This group operated in the Dandenong area outside of Melbourne and had a small but active membership of medical professionals who practiced an eclectic mix of Christian and yogic traditions.
One of the members, Marion Villimek, owned and operated the Newhaven psychiatric hospital in nearby Kew. Many of the staff at the facility, including psychiatrists and nurses, were also involved with the cult. Officially, the hospital supplied a range of interventions, including LSD psychotherapy. Many “patients” had no official diagnoses, but their treatments were part of the group’s recruitment process.
And while Australian participation in MK-Ultra was mainly around hypnosis research, our defense department reportedly researched how to synthesize mescaline from eucalyptus sawdust (entirely innocent purposes, I’m sure).
The reaction of mainstream society and politicians to psychedelics in Australia largely mirrored the responses elsewhere. Popular culture firmly linked LSD and psilocybin mushrooms to hippie counterculture and the anti-war movement. Local media effectively used these associations to incite wide-scale moral panic. Just as we followed the U.S. into Vietnam, our politicians enthusiastically signed us up for Nixon’s War on Drugs. The party, in every possible sense, was over.
The Underground Revival of Psychedelics in Australia
In the ’80s and ’90s, most above-ground psychedelic activity languished, though isolated pockets of research continued, including Dr. Balvant R. Sitaram’s extensive investigations into the psychotomimetic nature of DMT.
But during this same time, the underground in Australia was quite different. Against a backdrop of burgeoning outdoor raves (locally known as “doofs”) and recreational MDMA, a subtle change was afoot. Entheogenic knowledge was rapidly expanding via dedicated communities of citizen scientists and enthusiastic psychonauts, many of whom were members of the world’s longest-running ethnobotanical online forum, The Corroboree.
In 1992, an enterprising University of Sydney chemistry student found scientific records that there were native acacia species that contained DMT. Their story of finding the plants, extracting, and then trying the DMT would be published in a student newspaper, then find its way onto the Lyceum and Erowid. Australian DMT had been set loose upon the world!
In one of his last journeys abroad, Terence McKenna spoke about DMT at the Beyond the Brain club in Byron Bay in 1997. He also left another B.caapi vine cutting in Australia, setting off a chain of events leading to the rise of local ayahuasca circles.
In 2004, Australia saw the first Entheogenesis Australis (EGA) conference held in Belgrave, Victoria, introducing a wider Australian audience to the study of ethnobotanical plants. The centrality of EGA to psychedelics in Australia can’t be overstated.
For example, in 2010, MAPS founder Rick Doblin attended the EGA Symposium. Discussions with him after a workshop led to the formation of Psychedelic Research in Science & Medicine (PRISM), Australia’s leading psychedelic research charity.
Around the same time as EGA was kicking off, changa appeared. Changa has a range of formulations, but it’s essentially acacia DMT recrystallized on dried B. caapi leaf or bark shavings, along with ingredients such as mullein or blue lotus. Smoking changa is gentler and longer lasting than vaporizing DMT due to the MAOI effect of the ayahuasca leaf.
By the end of 2010, the rise of MAPS and Doblin’s visit gave tapped-in Australians a sense that something bigger was happening with psychedelics. As someone who watched these events unfold from the late ’90s onward, I can tell you – we had no idea what was coming.
Recent Psychedelic Developments
The last decade has been one of unexpected growth and change for psychedelics in Australia. In terms of above-ground activities and broader community awareness, more has happened since 2000 than in the previous century. New organizations like the Australian Psychedelic Society and Mind Medicine Australia have appeared, each with their own visions for the future of psychedelics, which influenced their focus on issues like clinical access or decriminalization.
But no event was more momentous or surprising than the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA) decision to add psilocybin and MDMA to Schedule 8 in February 2023, permitting their use as controlled drugs by specialist psychiatrists (albeit only under specific circumstances and with a great deal of paperwork). This change, driven in no small part by Mind Medicine Australia’s allegedly relentless lobbying, caught many of us off-guard, and has driven a massive and sustained increase in community and commercial interest in psychedelics. The first legal offerings in this area have gone live in recent months, with reported prices for a full course of treatment of up to $25,000 AUD ($16,625 USD).
The underground continues to grow in Australia as more people become aware of the potential of psychedelics to relieve suffering, to change how they relate to the world and themselves. Psilocybin use has doubledsince 2019, meaning that nearly 500,000 Australians used them between 2022 and 2023. If nothing else, this should serve as a reminder that, in terms of raw numbers at least, the mainstream of psychedelics here is very much out in the wild.
Organizations such as AMAPP aspire to be the peak body for legal psychedelic-assisted therapy in Australia. Clinical professionals are navigating new processes with regulators, for treatments they may never have administered before. Legal reform advocates continue their efforts to end the War on Drugs.
How any of this will play out is uncertain. But there’s definitely something meaningful happening with psychedelics in Australia worth paying attention to.
Are you interested in being part of the future of psychedelic therapy in Australia? Check out our comprehensive course, Navigating Psychedelics: Australia. Developed with the best of international expertise and local knowledge, it could be the first step in finding your place as a psychedelic professional.
The body seems to mend itself from illness and injuries without conscious effort. Yet when the mind wanders down a deep self-loathing abyss, it can get stuck there for years. Amidst serotonin-boosting drugs and clinical psychotherapy, millions still suffer from persistent depression. But within this reality, a more profound truth might be at play.
According to psychedelic therapists, researchers, and explorers, the mind doesn’t have to accept unyielding despair: all humans, they say, may have an ‘inner healer’ who can guide them to balance.
This article explores the concept of inner healing in psychedelic therapy, examining the theory, the debate, and the latest study testing its merits, led by Dr. Robin Carhart-Harris.
What is the Inner Healer?
According to leading psychedelic theories, the inner healer is “the innate capacity or wisdom of the self to guide its own healing process.”
The inner healer is the deep knowing that emerges from the subconscious to help people resolve emotional and psychological challenges. It empowers them to navigate back to their intrinsic wholeness.
The notion posits that just as the body naturally mends wounds, the mind can instinctively recover from depression, PTSD, anxiety, and all other imbalances when freed from habitual fears that command ordinary consciousness.
In the context of psychedelics, MDMA, psilocybin, and DMT facilitate access to this profound wisdom. And through therapeutic support, psychedelic explorers can safely self-direct their own transformation.
Psychedelic therapy sessions offer a safe haven for people to work through trauma and conditioning. The experience can create a unique bond between the therapist and client, akin to a healthy parent-child relationship, where the client feels open to exploring challenging topics.
Along the way, clients may reconnect with and soothe exiled parts of themselves, like the wounded inner child who unconsciously drives their habitual patterns. By soothing these traumatized parts, clients might experience greater ease, compassion, integrity, and flexibility in their daily lives.
Modern Emergence of the Inner Healer in Psychedelic Therapy
Psychotherapist Dr. Michael Mithoefer was integral in spreading the inner healer theory throughout the psychedelic movement.
In a pivotal 2013 Bulletin published by The Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelics Studies (MAPS), Mithoefer reflected on the mysterious nature of the mind and challenges in understanding how psychotherapy – be it MDMA-assisted or traditional approaches – really works. Rather than struggling for comprehension, he embraced the tension.
“We [as psychotherapists] strive to do rigorous science without losing sight of the remarkable richness of the process as we observe and participate in it,” Mithoefer said.
Inspired by psychologist Stanislav Grof’s transpersonal theories, Mithoefer asserted that psychotherapy wields effects across emotional, cognitive, physical, energetic, and spiritual levels. And that psychedelics’ pharmacological mechanisms play a role in the process. But he emphasized that the client’s inner healing pathway in relationship to the therapist and the medicine was the key to guiding transformation.
Mithoefer quoted psychedelic therapy patients in the article whose experience embodied the inner healer theory:
“I keep getting the message from the medicine, ‘trust me.’ When I try to think, it doesn’t work out, but when I just let the waves of fear and anxiety come up, it feels like the medicine is going in and getting them, bringing them up, and then they dissipate.”
“Maybe one of the things the drug does is let your mind relax and get out of the way because the mind is so protective about the injury,” he said.
Co-authored by Dr. Mithoefer and MAPS Founder Rick Doblin P.h.D., the manual emphasizes prioritizing the patient’s wisdom over the therapist’s expertise. It provides instructions for practitioners to take a non-directive approach to psychedelic therapy. It invites clinicians to listen empathetically and encourages the patient to trust their own capacity to heal from trauma and inner child wounds. In underpinning the approach, the manual emphasizes respecting each patient’s ability to process painful memories on their own terms.
MAPS’ MDMA protocol is now with the FDA for a new drug application review. If approved, the inner healing pathway may be seminal to the first nationally regulated psychedelic therapy program.
Following MAPS’ lead, psychedelic therapy researchers, universities, training programs, educators, and practitioners have broadly adopted the inner-directed therapeutic approach. Even ketamine clinics have embraced the practice despite the dissociative compounds’ distinction from classic psychedelics.
Trusting the client’s inner guidance during psychedelic therapy is so ubiquitous the method appears in Colorado’s draft rules for psilocybin facilitators. Under the state’s Natural Medicine Act, practitioners must prepare clients for psychedelic sessions by advising them to trust their inner guidance, inner genius, the self, wise mind, soul, or spirit.
Unlike Colorado, Oregon doesn’t require psilocybin facilitators to employ inner healer models. However, the state’s service centers promote the approach, including Satya Therapeutics and Omnia Group.
The Industry Debate
Despite widespread consensus, not every psychedelic proponent ascribes to the inner healer theory. A recent article challenged the notion that people possess this inherent capacity.
The critique raised several concerns about the inner healer’s scientific validity, coherence, and mystical undertones. It argued that attributing healing to unexplainable subconscious forces may oversimplify complex psychological processes, leading to pseudoscientific woo-woo practices. It also cautioned against inappropriately introducing spiritual-based therapies into tax-funded programs. Finally, the article pointed to the contradictory nature of a “self-led” process that requires significant intervention from therapists and hallucinogens.
Proponents of the theory, however, emphasize that therapists merely facilitate access to deep healing. But that they are not the source of the healing, per se. These practitioners believe that psychedelics serve as the prime catalysts for unlocking humans’ innate wisdom and that their role is to help people address unresolved wounds in a safe and supportive setting.
At the same time, proponents acknowledge that their perspective is steeped primarily in observation rather than empiricism.
The Inner Healer Study
Famed psychedelic researcher Dr. Robin Carhart-Harris does not see the inner healer as mystical or supernatural. He believes in its credibility, publishing a placebo-controlled study, “Psychedelics and the ‘inner healer’: Myth or mechanism? to “deconstruct, test, and potentially validate” the concept.
The research randomly assigned 59 participants diagnosed with moderate-to-severe depression to two groups: one receiving high-dose psilocybin therapy and the other a placebo alongside the antidepressant, escitalopram. Both groups receive psychological support.
Psilocybin therapy group: Participants received two high doses (25 mg) of psilocybin three weeks apart. They also received a daily placebo after the first dosing session.
Escitalopram therapy group: Participants received two placebo doses (1 mg) of psilocybin three weeks apart. They also received daily escitalopram for six weeks. The dosage was 10 mg for the first three weeks and 20 mg for the last three.
After the sessions, participants completed an assessment called the “inner healer item,” where they rated the degree to which they strongly agreed or disagreed with the following statement:
“I felt like my body/mind/brain was healing itself, automatically/naturally/by itself.”
The Results
In the end, the high-dose psilocybin group was far more likely to report inner healer experiences compared to the escitalopram group. Additionally, higher inner healer scores within the psilocybin group marked greater declines in depression symptoms two weeks after the protocol. Additionally, patients who reported higher inner healer scores experienced more significant mental health outcomes, regardless of the self-reported intensity of the psychedelic effects.
Critics argue that the results might be skewed because the study focused solely on patient perspectives during medicine session days. It did not ask the escitalopram group about their inner healing experiences throughout the therapeutic protocol.
Additionally, according to the research team, the study did not empirically prove whether the inner healer feeling is an intrinsic, quantifiable neural mechanism or an event caused by subtle therapeutic guidance.
Still, the outcomes suggest that the inner healer construct, defined as “the belief that psychedelic compounds, plants or concoctions have an intrinsically regenerative action on the mind and brain…” is a substantive phenomenon worth investigating further using detailed scales and qualitative methods.
Enduring mental health may rely on this integrative approach.
It’s no secret that psychedelics and creativity are intrinsically linked. If you look around, you won’t have to go very far to find psychedelic-inspired byproducts from visionary figures whose work has changed the world, from Yoko Ono, to Aldous Huxley, to Steve Jobs.
While psychedelics’ impact on art is well-documented, the psychedelic influence on design remains largely unexplored, despite luminaries like Jobs attributing psychedelic experiences to shaping their design ethos.
How do people working in the design world work with psychedelics in 2024? Spoiler: psychedelics are being used to foster unconventional problem-solving, inspire new empathic design systems, and lead to designs that reconnect people with each other and the planet.
Psychedelics and the Creative Process
Psychedelic experiences influence creative processes in various ways. Research and anecdotal evidence suggest that psychedelics such as LSD and psilocybin can enhance creative thinking by inducing a hyper-associative state of cognition, increasing global entropy in the brain, and reducing conventional, logical thinking while giving rise to novel thoughts and insights. A 2022 Beckley Foundation study revealed that psychedelics can lead to a shift of cognitive resources towards originality, convergence, and symbolic thinking, which are fundamental phenomena for creativity. The altered state induced by psychedelics can unlock creativity by allowing individuals to imagine things that don’t exist, experience profound visual and sensory hallucinations, and increase connectivity in brain networks associated with idea generation and evaluation.
“My current creative process is intrinsically connected to psychedelics,” said Jannyl Molina, Psychedelics Today graphic designer. As part of her role, she reads unpublished articles (including this one), to distill and visually articulate the main themes and conceptual complexities such as ‘integration,’ the ‘default mode network,’ and the ‘War on Drugs.’
“In a way, my process for design is really informed by past psychedelic experience and current research,” Molina said. A 2019 Maastricht University study found that psilocybin has several notable effects on creative thinking. It led to a differentiation of effects over time and across constructs; it resulted in higher ratings of spontaneous creative insights; it decreased deliberate, task-based creativity; and seven days after psilocybin use, the number of novel ideas continued to be elevated.
Reconnecting Nature and Humanity Through Life-Centric Design
Beyond just design, there’s a bigger idea at play. Based on our work at Psychedelics Design, a platform exploring how psychedelics and design overlap, we think the benefits of psychedelics could deeply change how designers create.
By helping us understand what people need and making us appreciate nature more, psychedelics may inspire products and systems that are innovative, beautiful, profitable, and also good for the planet.
In design, it can’t be overstated the degree to which psychedelic experiences change an individual’s view of how humans and nature are connected. These profound experiences frequently evoke a profound sense of unity and interconnectedness among all life forms.
For designers, these new perspectives can become their inspiration to use more earth-friendly methods in their work. It may inspire switching to green materials and putting nature first in the assembly of their work. Psychedelic experiences also fill the design process with more caring and respect for nature, possibly guiding designers to solutions that keep ecosystems in balance.
“You likely can’t get too far into psychedelic exploration without feeling a deeper connection to nature. As we like to remind people in our work, everything is designed – by humans or by nature. And spoiler alert: humans are, in fact, just another expression of nature,” say Tracy DeLuca, founder of the How Might We Design LLC., and Elysa Fenenbock, founder of The School of Psychedelic Design. Both are instructors of Stanford’s Psychedelic Medicine x Design course.
“More specifically, psychedelic experiences have profoundly reshaped our view and reconnected us with nature’s own creative problem-solving abilities, honed over billions of years of evolution. Psychedelics have expanded our understanding of what’s possible in problem-solving and encouraged us to consider the needs of all living beings, not just humans,” the pair wrote.
A long-term follow-up study by MAPS founder Rick Doblin of the Good Friday experiment found that participants’ appreciation for life and nature was enhanced 24 years after their psilocybin experience, suggesting long-lasting impacts on nature-relatedness. The findings from these studies align with the biophilia hypothesis, which argues that humans naturally prefer nature because we evolved in it.
Molina says she found “greater urgency to care for nature and take care of others” when under the influence of psychedelics.
“It’s as if that inner wisdom says to me, ‘you are healing and need to aid others in their healing, so that Earth can also heal.’ That becomes louder each time I journey,” she said.
This natural connection may be why many people choose outdoorsy settings for psychedelic experiences and report a deep appreciation of the world around them. Together, this research suggests psychedelics could help fix our modern disconnect from nature by making us feel more connected to and appreciative of the environment.
Creative System Changes Through Psychedelic Design
The idea of changing how we design things after having mind-opening experiences with psychedelics is exciting. Instead of only thinking about what’s best for humans, we can think about what’s best for all living things. This could help us work together better and fix big problems in the world.
This shift from human-centered to life-centered design holds promise for addressing complex issues and presents an opportunity for designers to elevate their collaborative efforts with clients and stakeholders. Rather than isolating themselves within traditional structures, designers can integrate more deeply into organizations, becoming integral parts of the growth ecosystem.
“In the realm of healthcare, psychedelic medicine shows promise not only in providing relief for individual mental health challenges but also in catalyzing a broader transformation of our broken healthcare systems,” DeLuca adds.
By embracing principles of expanded consciousness, conscious connectedness, collaboration, regeneration, and reciprocity, the Psychedelics Design Philosophy offers the potential to revolutionize the very essence of how we approach design, moving beyond mere problem-solving to co-creating harmonious and sustainable solutions that resonate with the interconnectedness of all things.
While there is plenty of room and indeed a need for the design process to evolve and benefit from an expanded state of knowing and doing, Jeff Salazar, partner at McKinsey Design, sees potential to more dramatically shift design structures.
“After 30 years of consulting experience, I’ve seen many teams have less impact than they are truly capable of by isolating themselves as the keepers of the process and/or are hampered by living within a corporate structure that puts them a Grand Canyon away from where strategy gets shaped. To this point, I’m inspired to see us open the aperture on how we might reimagine ‘design’ becoming even more a part of (not apart from) the organizations and institutions that can gain greater benefit from the practice,” Salazar said.
The chance to create new ways of designing naturally with psychedelics is a hopeful idea for the future of creativity. It lets us go past the limits of how we design things now and imagine a new way forward. This way of designing is about being open, aware, working together, helping things grow back, and being good to each other. It could change not just how we make new things but also help make bigger changes in the world.
“It is from being in an expanded-state, that designers can gain new perspectives on their role – not only in creating highly desirable, harmonious and sustainable solutions – but also to help broaden and challenge how they engage within the overall ecosystem of growth,” Salazar said.
By using what we’ve learned from psychedelic experiences, we can start to take apart old ways of doing things that don’t work anymore. We can make a system that includes everyone and lasts a long time. Ultimately, this can lead to a world where all living things live together in a fair and peaceful way.
What Creatives Can Learn From Set & Setting
Making new things can seem impressive, but it’s a lot of hard work and can be tiring for both the body and the mind. Just like in psychedelics, having the right attitude and a good environment – a.k.a. ‘set and setting’ – is essential.
Similarly for creators, who often possess heightened sensitivity, factors like sound, scent, and others’ emotions can profoundly impact their work. Creative agencies and some tech giants have known for a long time that it’s important to give their workers a place where they can flourish. A great workplace for creatives might offer different rooms to work, a variety of refreshments, places to sit quietly, opportunities to practice yoga, and special headphones to block noise in busy work spaces.
Henry Winslow, founder of Tricycleday, says psychedelics have shifted in his perspective on the creative process.
“I don’t force ideas anymore; I create space for ideas now. It might sound like a semantic shift, but it’s not. In my days working at giant agencies, we’d schedule 30 or 60-minute structured brainstorming sessions. They didn’t reliably generate anything remarkable. Now, I understand that the answers are within me. It may sound corny, but I just have to create the conditions for them to reveal themselves spontaneously,” he said.
Many creatives also experience a sense of detachment or otherness, creative blocks, and feelings of impostor syndrome driven by the pursuit of perfection, all of which can significantly elevate stress levels.
“I have noticed that if I have a ‘creative block,’ microdosing or even doing a larger dose will help me return to my usual creative self. The process of ideation has to be generative, by definition, and psychedelics are primordial for linking up parts of my brain and allowing new ideas to burst out,” Molina says.
According to UCSF researcher Robin Carhart-Harris, whose pioneering fMRI study captured images of a healthy brain under the influence of a dose of LSD capable of inducing a trip, the psychedelic experience involves a breakdown of the conventional sense of self, replaced by a profound sense of connection with oneself, others, and the natural world. Commenting on the study, Carhart-Harris notes that “[i]n many ways, the brain in the LSD state resembles the state our brains were in when we were infants: free and unconstrained. This also makes sense when we consider the hyper-emotional and imaginative nature of an infant’s mind.”
Hector Pottie, creative director of Moving Brands, believes that “maybe psychedelics are something that would help create the right conditions for us to think wider, to think differently.”
Psychedelics have the potential to alleviate tension, silence our inner critics, foster receptivity, enhance our sense of connection, and ultimately unlock intricate visions. This could help us develop new ways to design things that are just right for the complexities of our world.
“The practice of mind-expanding activities such as the taking of psychoactive substances was, I think, fundamentally interwoven with the early development of man, helping to expand the boundaries of consciousness. The mind was opened to new visions by maximizing hyperconnectivity, and spreading further the network of simultaneous associations, inspiring higher levels of creativity and spirituality.”
A placebo-controlled study by Isabel Wießner and colleagues at the University of Campinas, Brazil, found that compared to placebo, LSD changed several creativity measurements pointing to three overall LSD-induced phenomena: a ‘pattern break’ reflected by increased novelty, surprise, originality, and semantic distances; decreased ‘organization,’ reflected by decreased utility, convergent thinking and, marginally, elaboration; and ‘meaning,’ reflected by increased symbolic thinking and ambiguity in the data-driven results.
Carly Dutch-Greene, founder of Studiodelic, says: “My psychedelic experiences have given me the ability to deeply attune to my intuition and because of that, I am able to transmute thoughts and ideas into visual designs in a really meaningful way.”
For designers, psychedelics open up a new realm of creative possibility, offering a unique tool for problem-solving and innovation. By altering perception and expanding consciousness, psychedelics may unlock creative insights that were previously inaccessible, paving the way for design solutions that contribute to regenerative futures.
It is essential to acknowledge the complexities and risks associated with psychedelics – they are not a panacea for creative problem-solving, and may not be the best choice for all creative thinkers. The ongoing dialogue within the design and psychedelic communities must carefully balance the potential creative insights with potential risks. While psychedelics may offer profound experiences and new avenues for exploration, we can’t overlook that they also carry legal, ethical, and health considerations, too.
Ultimately, the intersection of psychedelics and design carries both profound opportunities and formidable challenges. By proceeding with open yet critical minds, this intersection has the potential to expand the frontiers of humanity. With wisdom and care, this resurgence could catalyze a new creative wave that redesigns our innovations and how we innovate.
Join Psychedelics Today CEO Joe Moore at PSYCHEDELICS DESIGN conference on July 11. Joe’s keynote presentation, titled: The Great Reconnector: Designing Our Way Back Together with Psychedelics will explore modern alienation, and how psychedelics can serve as catalysts to bring people back together. Additional speakers include Peter Reitano of Gwella, Dennis Walker of Mycopreneur, and others. Join us to collectively reimagine the possibilities at the convergence of consciousness and creative endeavors. *Get 15% off your ticket with code JOE15.*
Have you been considering taking a psychedelic journey, but want to avoid a bad trip? Do yourself a favor: don’t make the most common psychedelic mistakes.
Understanding the most common pitfalls before you engage with a psychedelic substance can have a colossal impact on the outcome of your experience. Whether you’ve just learned about psychedelics, you’ve recently begun a journey of re-discovery, you’re working to include psychedelics in your career, or you’re a seasoned psychonaut, knowing the most often-made psychedelic mistakes could mean the difference of having a positive or negative – or even dangerous – outcome.
Ignoring Set and Setting
Psychedelics are powerful tools that can amplify your inner world. Imagine a mirror reflecting back everything you’re feeling – that’s what a psychedelic experience can be like. So, if you’re anxious going in, that anxiety can intensify and make it difficult to avoid a bad trip.
Similarly, a chaotic or unfamiliar environment can create a sense of unease and disrupt the flow of your experience.
Set (Mindset): Your emotional and psychological state profoundly affects your psychedelic journey. If you’re stressed, worried, or harbor unresolved conflicts, these can manifest and become overwhelming during the experience.
Setting (Environment): The physical and social space you choose can significantly impact your trip. Some settings are inherently riskier than others.
To avoid making this mistake, consider your internal state of being, and if it’s the best time to introduce psychedelics into your life. While some may argue that a period of difficulty is the best time to use psychedelics, take the time to evaluate whether dealing with what may arise will be a wise or productive choice right now – only you can answer this question, but don’t be afraid to share with someone you trust to help you evaluate it.
Think hard about how the setting could impact your overall experience, both positively and negatively. While fun, a noisy party can be disorienting. Unfamiliar surroundings and people could become frightening during the trip, too. Whereas a safe, comfortable space with trusted companions can foster a sense of security and allow you to surrender to the experience. Thoroughly assess what level of comfort and control feels right for you, and choose your setting wisely.
Lack of Planning and Research
Ingesting a substance without stopping to understand the substance and its effects is like taking a bad trip to a foreign land without a map. You might end up lost, confused, and potentially in danger.
While psychedelics are increasingly being mentioned or portrayed casually in movies and on social media, they’re powerful substances whose effects vary wildly depending on the individual, the substance, the dosing, and what they’re combined with. Without proper research, you could have a drastically different experience than you signed up for.
Treat your psychedelic journey (and yourself) with an appropriate level of respect. Research the substance you plan to use, including its typical effects, duration, and potential risks and contraindications. Get familiar with typical experiences by reading trip reports and articles, listening to podcasts (we have many to choose from), psychedelic books, and studies.
Begin forming a plan. Decide who you want and who is able to be present, or act as a “sitter.” Make sure this person has some psychedelic experience and can provide emotional support. If you also choose your setting mindfully and have a good understanding of what to expect (while being aware that the unexpected may still arise), you can enter the experience with confidence.
Neglecting Drug Testing
One of the most common mistakes in the modern era of psychedelic use is failure to test your substance. These days, it’s increasingly risky to assume that a substance is safe, pure, or that the substance is even what you believe it to be. Because a great deal of psychedelic use still occurs outside legal frameworks, where substances are tested and verified, there could be adulterants or molecules you are unfamiliar with on board. This potential comes with a high risk of unpredictable and dangerous side effects, ranging from discomfort to death.
Fortunately, there has never been greater access to substance testing for people who are concerned about the safety of their psychedelics and avoiding a bad trip.
At-home testing kits are widely available for a wide variety of substances, with the most common testing for accuracy and adulterants. Services like GetYourDrugsTested.com offer free mail-in drug analysis for free, groups like Dancesafe, Bunk Police, and Test Kit Plus offer kits for home use. Be sure to follow the instructions, and opt for a kit that checks for a wide variety of substances.
While purchasing a test kit is an added expense, strongly consider the cost of your health and well-being: if you can afford to ingest, you can afford to test.
Misjudging Your Dose
One of the most common mistakes we see: taking an arbitrary or high dose without realizing it or understanding its potency.
Dosing is highly variable from substance to substance, and highly individualized. The dose that works best for one person may be far too much, or too little for another. Taking too much without realizing it or anticipating the level of intensity can quickly result in an overwhelming and potentially harmful situation.
To avoid this potential for a bad trip, start with a low dose and increase gradually if necessary, tailoring it to your desired experience.
If it’s your first time taking a substance – or even a new batch of a familiar substance – the safest route is to begin with a low dose. It’s far easier to increase the dose if necessary than it is to deal with an overwhelming experience when it’s too late.
Consider your intention: do you want to have a more subtle, amplifying experience, or a mystical experience? How well do you know your body, and how do you typically react to mind-altering substances? What’s been said on message boards and within your local community about the substance recently? Exercising caution, asking yourself important questions, and doing some external research can help you avoid a bad trip.
Remember: you can always take more, but you can’t take less.
Learn the Rest of the Most Common Psychedelic Mistakes
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Psychedelics and pregnancy is a highly controversial and often unspoken topic. But beyond the stigma, what does the research, law and culture say about mothers-to-be consuming psychedelics?
As she had done many times before, Leticia Pizano sat in ceremony with her medicine sisters waiting to feel the effects of the four grams of magic mushrooms that she had ingested. An experienced journeyer, Pizano found it strange that 45 minutes later she began vomiting, an effect she was unaccustomed to so early in the trip.
“The medicine just showed me that I needed to get that out of my body because I was with baby,” she told Psychedelics Today.
Still, the mushrooms took effect and led her on a trip she described as beautiful and empowering. The experience enabled her to form a deeper bond with her unborn child. “There’s just a different connection with her; almost non-human,” Pizano says of her daughter, six months old and the youngest of her twelve children at the time of this writing. After her daughter’s birth, Pizano brought her “medicine baby” to every plant medicine ceremony she attended.
For Pizano, participation in community-based ceremony was a motivating factor for her use of psychedelics, and her use during pregnancy was consistent with cultural norms — she is a member of the Sac and Fox and Kickapoo Tribal Nations, where partaking in ceremonies that include plant medicine sacraments occurs all through a person’s life. For most non-Indigenous people, such participation would be unusual and likely stigmatized, perhaps viewed as dangerous or irresponsible.
Yet, as psychedelics enter a more mainstream era, non-Indigenous birthing parents are relying on them as tools for wellness and even lifesaving measures to address treatment-resistant depression, anxiety, PTSD and addiction. Our current paradigms for substance use during pregnancy do not look at psychedelics with a thoughtful, critical lens. A new approach may be required to accommodate the myriad ways our culture has shifted towards turning to psychedelics over conventional treatments and medications for well-being.
Information, Misinformation, and Disinformation: Research and Public Health Information on Psychedelics and Pregnancy
Just as with other psychotropics like antidepressants or anti-anxiety medications, birthing parents and their healthcare providers need to evaluate existing information on psychedelics and pregnancy to make informed decisions about whether to continue using them during pregnancy. But seeking information on the web yields few results. And what little information does exist on the topic is often confusing, incomplete and misleadingly shaped by the War on Drugs. One study on pregnancy and LSD – the study most commonly cited online in reference to psychedelics and pregnancy – was published in 1970.
The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists offers a blanket statement recommending the cessation of all marijuana use. Other psychedelics are similarly classified into a category of “substances that are commonly misused or abused,” a classification that bears the markings of bias and misinformation. According to the Global Drug Survey, we know that many psychedelic users ingest these substances in a safe, prepared and informed way, and according to longtime drug researcher David Nutt’s book, Drugs Without the Hot Air, psychedelics like mushrooms and LSD are not inherently addictive.
The March of Dimes, a research and advocacy group for mothers and babies, offers an unsourced page last edited in 2016 on their website that reads: “Street drugs are bad for you, and they’re bad for your baby.” The psychedelics included in this category are “ecstasy” and “other club drugs.” This broad categorization fails to account for the therapeutic applications of psychedelics. It also excludes critical factors like set, setting and dosage, all of which make a significant difference in a psychedelic user’s experience.
Mother to Baby provides more nuanced and specific information on psychedelics, but offer inconsistent guidance on the site. One article advises “Other street drugs, like cocaine, heroin, LSD, MDMA (ecstasy or Molly), and methamphetamine, also are harmful during pregnancy.” While the site’s Fact Sheets for both LSD and MDMA state that it is unknown whether the substances cause pregnancy-related problems.
These blanket prohibitions are largely based on the absence of—rather than the presence of—information about how a substance will impact a growing fetus. The medical research canon contains very little information about the effects of these substances during pregnancy, and substantial obstacles exist for this research to take place at all.
Due to ethical and safety concerns, “The research we do have on pregnancy in general—let alone pregnancy with psychedelics or plant medicine—is minimal because we don’t do research in pregnancy for the most part,” says Jessilyn Dolan, a registered nurse, herbalist, hemp farmer and former member of the Board of Directors for the American Cannabis Nurse Association.
Aside from ethical considerations, says Dolan, another challenge is measuring the long-term health impacts to the child of just one substance due to the enormity of confounding factors. For example, is a person who consumes cannabis edibles during pregnancy also consuming caffeine, alcohol, or prescription medication? How might these substances along with the birthing parent’s diet and lifestyle impact the long term health outcomes for the child? And how might the child’s environment, including exposure to toxins, food insecurity, poverty or traumatic life events, play a role in their health as well?
“When we look at pregnancy, breastfeeding and chest feeding and then doing longitudinal studies around kids, we have so many factors working against us to make that research really legitimized and standardized,” says Dolan.
Of the existing research on this topic, most is either outdated or based on small sample sizes. As legal restrictions on these substances shift, this may change. But information about the safety of ingesting substances during pregnancy is still scant, inconclusive and conflicting.
A study from 1968 on nine children exposed to LSD-25 in utero found elevated levels of chromosomal damage compared to a control group. However, none of these babies exhibited any birth defects. This study, with its very small sample size, has never been replicated. It also did not look at long-term outcomes for these children, rendering the results limited in value.
Similarly, an often cited and widely circulated study from 1994 compared 24 newborns exposed to cannabis to 20 who were not; results at 30 days showed that the cannabis-exposed babies actually scored higher on measures of alertness, were less irritable and had better reflexes. But this study, again with a small sample size and never replicated, did not take into consideration the many confounding factors that could have contributed to the results. For example, the study took place in Jamaica where cannabis use during pregnancy is a common practice and is not stigmatized. In addition, the heavier cannabis-using birthing parents were also more educated, more financially stable and had fewer other children to care for, all of which could have impacted outcomes for their babies.
More broadly, research on prenatal drug exposure is often mired in biases. In his book Drug Use for Grownups, Dr. Carl Hart details several problems associated with brain imaging research on people exposed prenatally to drugs. It is easier to get findings published, he says, when they are consistent with the widespread notion that drug use is bad for the developing fetus. In addition, Hart writes the findings are almost never replicated and researchers often ignore their own data in order to draw conclusions that reflect their own biases.
Still, experts in the field like Amanda Feilding, executive director of the Beckley Foundation, a UK-based NGO that funds psychedelic research and supports policy change, remain hopeful about the prospect for more research on the topic
“Scientific exploration could be carried out using animal models, or using naturalistic surveys to get answers from people who are already using or have already used psychedelics during their pregnancy,” Feilding says.
Keeping a Close Watch on Pregnant Bodies
Weighing risks of physical harm to the fetus against physical or mental health outcomes for the birthing parent is one framework for decision-making of this kind. But these calculations are not the only ones a birthing parent will have to assess. Most people who have experienced pregnancy will be familiar with an increase in monitoring by friends, family and even strangers who may feel entitled to comment on body changes, touch the pregnant person’s body without permission, or offer unsolicited advice or opinions on what the pregnant person ingests. Using psychedelics openly may create social stigma and isolation; the anxiety and stress that those conditions create may pose an additional risk for pregnant people.
Pregnant people are also monitored more closely by state and healthcare agencies. The American Academy of Pediatrics and American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists recommends screening a pregnant person for drugs when they enter prenatal care. Twenty-five states and the District of Columbia require healthcare professionals to report even suspected drug use, and eight states require them to test for prenatal drug exposure if they suspect drug use. In 2014, Tennessee became the first state to pass a “fetal assault” law specifically allowing prosecution of pregnant women who use drugs, imposing penalties of up to 15 years in prison. The legislation was so controversial it was discontinued in 2016, but has been introduced several times since.
Monitoring for drug use, however, happens disproportionately along racial lines. While white and Black birthing parents have similar rates of any drug use during the prenatal period (though the substances used and patterns of use may differ slightly), an often-cited study from 1990 found that Black birthing parents were 10 times more likely than their white counterparts to be reported to health authorities for their drug use.
Some states are actively working to correct these disparities, with mixed results. A 2015 study of California hospitals that adopted a protocol to monitor all birthing parents for prenatal substance use found that it did not impact child protective services reporting disparities.
New York has taken a different approach. In a testimony to the New York City Council from 2020, David Hansell, Commissioner of the New York City Administration for Children’s Services, stated that the agency had actively discouraged health professionals from making reports to them about a child or parent who tests positive for a substance if there is no negative impact on their well-being and instead make a referral to a service agency. While this could theoretically help level out racial differences, the question remains whether the service agencies would be equipped and trained to adequately address the physical and mental health and other needs of a birthing parent using substances.
Vermont has also taken steps to eliminate the reporting requirement for healthcare practitioners treating birthing parents using substances. If a birthing parent tests positive only for marijuana, they are exempt from hospitals’ and healthcare professionals’ reporting requirements to the Department of Children and Families (although if the marijuana use is thought to endanger a child, it must be reported). The marijuana-only exemption in Vermont is informed by the lack of sufficient evidence suggesting that marijuana use during pregnancy is harmful. But similarly, there is a lack of sufficient evidence demonstrating that other psychedelics are harmful.
For birthing parents who do test positive for substances, their risk of losing custody is also informed by structural racism within the child welfare system. According to Dr. Kelly Sykes, a psychedelic integration therapist and child forensic psychologist, disparities exist between legal systems that govern custody and child protection systems. Allegations of abuse, neglect and drug abuse requiring court intervention exist in both systems. However, only parents within the child protection system—which disproportionately impacts poor single parents of color—can have their parental rights terminated and be permanently banned from having contact with their child. Further, all aspects of their parental judgement are subject to scrutiny; they may be randomly tested for substances, regardless of whether substance abuse was a part of their child protection case.
Community Support: Making Decisions on Psychedelics During Pregnancy
In this landscape of inconclusive, biased, and misleading information, how can birthing parents make informed decisions on this topic? And without information from peer-reviewed, evidence based research, what might drive someone to elect to use psychedelics all the same during their pregnancy?
For some birthing parents, the mental health benefits outweigh the potential risks.
“Psychedelics can reduce anxiety and depression, and can help people cope with dramatic changes in their lives,” said Feilding. “For those reasons, it’s certainly possible that psychedelics could be beneficial for expectant mothers struggling with prenatal depression or anxiety.”
Dolan, who has worked with pregnant people using cannabis to address treatment-resistant hyperemesis, a condition in pregnancy that creates severe and persistent nausea, frames the issue similarly. If anxiety and stress impede on the connection between parent and baby, research shows that “the relationship and connection is just as, if not more important than the little bit of pharmaceutical that’s going to pass through your breastmilk or pass through in utero to the child,” she says.
Being in a safe, supportive community to help weigh those decisions and process experiences in a nonjudgmental way can be very helpful. For someone like Pizano, this community is built into her everyday life. She grew up attending peyote ceremonies for occasions like baby namings, funerals or healing, and the wisdom she relies on comes from a long lineage of oral tradition, passed down by elders.
For those without such a cultural container, more options are emerging for pregnant people in need of support. A recent Psychedelics Today webinar explored the subject of psychedelics and parenthood with Dr. Glauber Loures de Assis, Associate Director of Chacruna Latinoamérica in Brazil. Groups like Plant Parenthood (which this writer founded) and Moms on Mushrooms also bring together parents to speak about topics that are so stigmatized, they’re rarely spoken about with others.
“Obviously safety is still a primary concern when it comes to kids and psychedelics, let alone issues like pregnancy,” says Andrew Rose, who co-facilitates Plant Parenthood. “But the riskiest thing is not talking about it at all. You can’t have good healthy community education without open, non-judgmental communication.”
Without a clear path for more research on the horizon, and with a landscape of confusing information to draw from, birthing parents will likely struggle to find simple answers. Individuals will still need to factor in their own level of vulnerability, which varies greatly based on race and other socioeconomic and cultural factors. Perhaps the answers we seek do not exist within a search engine, but in a patchwork of wisdom from Western medical research, ancestral knowledge and most importantly, our own inner healing intelligence.
What if there was a potentially life-saving drug that could relieve depression and PTSD but also, potentially, force frequent users to rush to the toilet every 15 minutes?
Well, it does exist. It’s ketamine, the most rapid-acting antidepressant in use today.
The drug has morphed in popular consciousness in just half a century from legal anesthetic, to dissociative dancefloor sniffing powder, to FDA-approved depression treatment, to addictive bladder-buster. Like heroin and cocaine, ketamine has much-needed medical uses – but it can be dangerous if abused. Rising problematic recreational use and calls from industry for greater professional accountability in therapeutic settings is showing that ketamine can be fun, restorative, and even addictive. In some cases, all at the same time.
The Ascension of Ketamine in Medicine and Culture
The commonly used anesthetic, in clinical use since 1970, was never placed under the strictest of legal controls like other drugs – partly since recreational ketamine use did not emerge until the 1990s and was rarely demonized. This enabled ketamine-assisted mental health treatment to become the first psychedelic available in therapy form, while in 2019 the FDA approved a ketamine nasal spray named Spravato for depression.
While its therapeutic usage has taken off, recreational consumption has seemingly followed suit.
“Recreational ketamine use has almost tripled over the last decade,” says Dr. Rayyan Zafar, a neuropsychopharmacologist at Imperial College’s Centre for Psychedelic Research.
In some cases, ketamine appears to be replacing alcohol, and that may broadly be positive for public health, Zafar adds. It’s not the only benefit: Ketamine-assisted therapy, “is a game changer for treatment resistant depression.”
To service the emerging therapeutic demand, ketamine clinics have opened all over the Western world over the last decade (there are a dozen in Manhattan alone).
And the party drug du jour – which along with other psychedelics is today replacing cocaine on dancefloors and at dinner parties – is making its way into pop culture: in ‘Ketflix and Chill’ memes, usage in films such as 2023’s Rotting in the Sun, and the so-called “ketamine chic” look. A song with a perhaps era-defining lyric, “Gimme ket, gimme ket,” recently made the top 20 in the German pop charts.
Naturally, plenty attest to its benefits.
“A ketamine meditation last year was one of the most profound and freeing experiences of my life,” says Bryan. “I only had awareness of peace.”
Others speak of ketamine use precluding suicidal ideations, spawning life changing realizations and facilitating mind-body connection.
For Sophie, ketamine has helped her “to zone in on what my soul purpose is” and spawned a long-overdue, radical career change. “It quietens the noise in the mind.”
Away from the dancehalls and art studios, there are reports of relief from depression, suicidality, PTSD and anxiety. (The author had a transformative, intentional experience with ketamine which helped him process the memories of a number of traumatic events). Many others, from model Amber Rose to average Canadians, tell of how ketamine saved their lives – wrenching them away from suicidality. “That’s the only thing that saved my life,” Rose said recently.
The Hidden Dangers of Ketamine Misuse
But the story of ketamine in 2024 isn’t all healing and happily ever afters for everyone who uses it. The scale of the harm from misuse has become so serious that hundreds on both sides of the Atlantic are undergoing therapy for addiction as ketamine support groups emerge for those who cannot afford rehab.
At a recent meeting in Oakland, California, attendees shared stories about the consequences of daily ketamine use: gastrointestinal pain, neuropathy, tingling in limbs and extremities, and leaky bladders. Tolerance to ketamine develops swiftly. In a short-sighted attempt to get around that, some people are “boofing” – rectally ingesting – several grams a day to get the hit that has become elusive nasally for them.
“Very little is known about how to recognize ketamine addiction,” says Brad Burge, founder of Integration Communications, a public relations agency serving the psychedelic industry, who was present at the well-attended meeting. He went because a friend of his recently died by suicide after more than two years struggling with pain likely caused by ketamine addiction.
Others are still living with the damage from misuse previously in their lives. Ryan was sniffing several grams a day at the height of his addiction.
“Robotripping and dissociation; it’s the ultimate escape. It was only when I moved back to my family home that I was saved.” Ketamine, at mid-to-high doses, he adds, brings about a more lucid and less warm experience than psilocybin or LSD. “It’s like getting lost in an emotional but placid sea of neuronal misfire.”
Ryan has lasting damage to his bladder as a result of ketamine overuse. So does Adam. “I did it every day for a few months years ago,” he says. “To this day I have ‘ket bladder’. I’ll go for a wee four times for every wee my mates have.”
The mental and spiritual strain of ketamine can range from hallucination persisting perception disorder, to being thrust unwillingly into “k-holes,” a dissociative ego-death realm.
“I felt like I was going to die,” Marie recalls. “I had seizure-like symptoms for about half an hour.” She and others did not know that many take ketamine purposefully to enter the k-hole for pleasure and enlightenment.
Growing Scrutiny On Take-Home Ketamine
Even lesser-known, in the enduring world of “just say no” public drug messaging, is the addictive potential of ketamine, “especially at-home ketamine use,” adds Burge.
The concerns over at-home ketamine use – for which a telehealth industry has sprung up to cater for, with slow release ketamine lozenges and prerecorded trip mixes – were blown wide open in late February when the former CEO of an at-home ketamine provider withdrew his support for at-home ketamine therapy after a female patient had a reported massive overdose and went into hypoxemic respiratory failure. It came after the death of Friends actor Matthew Perry, from “the acute effects of ketamine,” a few months earlier.
“After being at the forefront of at-home ketamine treatment, recent findings, like the case study of unintentional overdose via telehealth have led me to reevaluate,” Juan Pablo Cappello, the former CEO of Nue Life Health, tweeted. “I can no longer endorse ketamine’s prescription without stricter controls. Safety must come first.”
The Ethical Divide: Confronting Challenges in Therapeutic Practice
Some advocates of drug policy reform argue that reducing controls to accessing drugs like ketamine is the whole point – and that greater education and support from the companies purveying the lozenges should come before any knee-jerk legislative responses.
But with recreational and therapeutic use rising swiftly – bolstered by ads on social media and digital platforms from which at-home lozenges can easily be accessed – it seems like the emerging issues may only worsen, even if far more people experience ketamine’s benefits.
“There’s all sorts of ethical companies and practitioners who are doing the good work every day on the front lines, and we have to recognize that,” Cappello told Psychedelics Today in March. “We also have to be honest that it’s harder and harder for those ethical practitioners to make a living because of what unethical practitioners are doing every day in the trenches, which is slinging ketamine.”
In a letter advocating for standards that prioritize patient safety over profits – profits that seem to be fuelling the trajectory of the ketamine craze (both in the clinics and in the clubs) – Cappello proposed that those at the helm of industry have the power to safeguard the therapeutic potential of ketamine therapy for those in need.
“Do I think that it’s probably a good trade to take ketamine six times a year as opposed to taking an antidepressant every day? Yeah, that’s probably a good trade. But there’s a better trade, which is: let’s address the root cause of your depression, anxiety, or trauma once and for all.”
In 2024, the discourse around the effects of microdosing psychedelics is deeply polarized.
Positioned at opposite ends of the conversation are microdosing evangelists who swear by its benefits and skeptical scientists demanding more empirical evidence.
Ask whether it ‘works,’ and you’ll receive an emphatic ‘yes’ from believers or an all-but-certain ‘no’ from doubters, highlighting a divide that hinges largely on perspective.
Despite plenty of anecdotal reports attesting to the positive effect of microdosing – the practice of taking sub-perceptual or slightly sensory enhancing doses of psilocybin or LSD on a regular basis for wellbeing, to improve focus or diminish depression – the lack of faith is traditionally rooted in an absence of robust science proving its efficacy. But that could all soon change.
MindBio’s Latest Trial Results: Breakthrough or Overreach?
“We are delighted to share that MB22001 showed rapid and statistically significant improvements with 60% reduction in depressive symptoms and 53% of patients experiencing complete remission from depression,” said Justin Hanka, Chief Executive Officer of MindBio Therapeutics. “These Phase 2 trial results are transformative for the company as it takes its next steps into late-stage pharma.”
This should all be taken with a grain of salt. The sensationalist manner Mindbio announced the latest microdosing results – which have not yet been released in a scientific paper – provoked the ire of some commentators.
Exploring Microdosing’s Effect on Mental Health
But for the many who have benefitted from the effects of microdosing, it’s only a matter of time before the data corroborates their experiences. I decided to ask my Instagram friends about their experiences.
“I was going through a really hard period at home,” one microdoser said. “I felt almost like the mushrooms held me: Everything softened and I felt safe and held. And, after a while, I felt fine without microdosing and didn’t need it anymore.”
“I was coming off antidepressants and had a horrendous time,” she said. “The mushrooms were my savior. They took away feelings of negativity and made me feel lighter and more at peace.”
Scientific Scrutiny: Measuring the ‘Real’ Effects of Microdosing
Such reports, however, will do little to convince the doubters. This skepticism is compounded by the trend of bots marauding social media conversations about psychedelics, relentlessly regurgitating pro-microdosing talking points and incessantly hawking magic mushroom capsules. The volume of posts, especially on X, has contributed to claims from psychedelics researchers that microdosing is “ridiculously overhyped and predatory.”
Other research – and numerous press reports, which began in 2015 when microdosing first entered cultural consciousness – presents the microdose as a versatile tool for increasing contentment effect and improving cognition.
“As of right now, there are still no published clinical trials investigating microdosing on people diagnosed with mental health issues, so their efficacy as a clinical treatment is unknown,” said Manesh Grin, a postdoctoral psychedelic neuroscientist, University of California, San Francisco.
The survey-based papers “generally don’t measure placebo or expectation effects and aren’t the most reliable,” he added, while “in laboratory studies, where they compare against a control group, people do often experience improvements in mood, anxiety, and other measures but so do the people who get an inert placebo and thought they got a microdose.”
The main challenge of the clinical microdosing studies undertaken so far is that most did not observe patients for any significant period – in which time a microdosing protocol might take effect. Perhaps the most robust microdosing study to date, conducted with LSD in New Zealand by University of Auckland associate professor Dr. Suresh Muthukumaraswamy on 14 patients over six weeks, suggests some benefits that are greater than placebo.
“My sense is that, if there are real effects, they are likely particularly for people who are struggling,” added Girn. “Whether they help people who are already healthy and high functioning is more of an open question, but the data so far suggests the effects might only be modest and largely placebo in most cases.”
Some are less enthusiastic about microdosing’s possible efficacy as they believe larger macrodoses, taken less often, are more effective and that there are emerging business interests behind the dubious bots – and others – who seem to want to sell folks a lifetime of pills.
“High-dose psychotherapy (is) about having this transformative experience that one learns from, whereas microdosing psychedelics would be … a traditional psychiatric medicine model,” psychedelic scientist Dr Matthew Johnson tweeted.
“Common for microdosing fans to say: any skeptic hasn’t tried it. Not true,” he said in another tweet last year. “I’ve know [sic] many people (including a number of scientists) who have taken plenty of psychedelics & are believers in high dose therapeutics, who have tried microdosing a bunch and say, meh, not convinced.”
But microdose advocates still maintain that smaller, more regular doses will be more practical, and cheaper, for most people than the hair-raising visionary trips scientists propel themselves into.
Hanka says his company’s data – from a new study led by Muthukumaraswamy – is promising, but that ultimately the jury is still out.
“I’d really like to know for sure that these drugs work better than antidepressants with lower side effects and that is exactly what we are trying to find out,” he said. “I am open minded and will be completely led by the data as we step through clinical trials.”
Studying the effects of a sub-perceptual medicine while calculating the impact of brain power may always be tricky, and the success of any microdose, self-help regime comes down to the intentions and discipline of the microdoser. But I don’t think my Instagram friends are tripping. They didn’t take large doses after all.
Interested in doing your own self-exploration? Consider our Microdosing Masterclass, your complete guide to understanding and integrating the best practices for effective microdosing.
Legal psychedelics frameworks in the U.S. and abroad are rapidly shifting thanks to growing recognition of their transformative benefits. Where are psychedelics legal currently, and what can we expect around legal reform in the near future?
As of April 2024, dozens of U.S. cities have deprioritized criminal law enforcement for possessing psychedelics, while two states have passed sweeping regulated adult-use bills. Globally, Australia became the first country to codify legal psychedelic therapy. And Jamaica leads the world’s commercial psychedelics sector, fully embracing psilocybin use, sales, and cultivation.
Psychedelics legalization is occurring in various forms around the globe. The bottom line? Adults don’t have to look far for places that allow entheogens for personal or therapeutic use.
**Disclaimer: This article speaks to the legality of possession and use of psychedelics for personal, therapeutic, and ceremonial use, and largely, does not reference legal possession and production for research purposes. Be advised: drug laws change rapidly and frequently. This article is not a legal resource and may not be 100% up-to-date. Always check the latest local, state, and federal laws before engaging in psychedelics use in the U.S. and abroad.Have we missed anything in this article? Reach out to our team at editor@psychedelicstoday.com with your input.
Defining Legal Psychedelics
‘Legal psychedelics’ is an incredibly broad term. People use it interchangeably with ‘decriminalization,’ ‘deprioritization,’ and ‘regulated use.’ These terms integrate and sometimes overlap. But they also hold distinct implications worth defining.
Fully legal psychedelicsrefer to hallucinogenic substances that adults can use, produce, and sell because no local, state, or federal law prohibits it. Jamaica has one of the most robust legal psychedelics industries, but it only applies to psilocybin-bearing mushrooms.
Regulated psychedelics accessrefers to places with targeted legalization bills that allow adults to purchase and use these compounds for specific purposes, such as therapeutic treatment or research. Regulated access can also include state-level bills that enable limited psychedelic use under professional guidance, such as in Oregon and Colorado. However, state-level bills do not supersede federal legislation.
Decriminalization involves reducing or eliminating criminal penalties associated with possessing or using psychedelics for personal reasons. Decriminalization codifies psychedelic use as a non-criminal offense. It does not legalize production, sale, or distribution.
Deprioritization means that local law enforcement agencies decide to treat psychedelic possession offenses as their lowest priority. However, the substances remain illegal under the law, and offenders could still face penalties from state and federal prosecutors.
Where are Psychedelics Legal in the U.S.?
Psychedelics are not fully legal anywhere in the United States. Classic psychedelics, like psilocybin mushrooms, LSD, and DMT are Schedule I controlled substances. MDMA, mescaline, bufotenine, ibogaine, and several psychedelic analog compounds fall under the DEA’s Schedule I designation as well.
However, Oregon and Colorado recently legalized psilocybin mushrooms for adult use under professional supervision. These legal psychedelic states created regulated access industries – as of this writing, Oregon is ahead of Colorado – but do not allow retail sales or public consumption.
Oregon’s Legal Psychedelics Framework
Oregon became the first state to create a paradigm for the legalization of psychedelics after it passed Measure 109, the Oregon Psilocybin Services Act, in November 2020. The Act gave the Oregon Health Authority (OHA) two years to regulate psilocybin production, transportation, delivery, sale, purchase, and establish a psilocybin services industry through licensed healing centers.
In June 2023, the first healing center opened its doors, where Oregon adults over 21 could purchase and ingest psilocybin mushrooms in a supervised environment. State-certified facilitators must be present during the entire experience. Adults do not need a referral or a diagnosis to participate.
Who can become a licensed psilocybin service facilitator in Oregon?
People often assume Oregon’s psychedelic facilitators must be mental health professionals. However, any Oregon resident over 21 with a high school diploma can become a psilocybin facilitator if they complete the state-sponsored training program, pass an exam and background check, and pay a license application and renewal fee.
Oregon’s psilocybin services program did not legalize psychedelic therapy, where licensed practitioners offer psychotherapy services throughout the journey. Thus, facilitators cannot provide professional counseling during psilocybin sessions. Therapists who want to participate in Oregon’s psilocybin program can offer pre- and post-journey counseling.
Measure 109 only legalized psilocybin mushrooms in Oregon. And only in a licensed and regulated environment.
Decriminalization in Oregon
However, Oregon’s Measure 110 reduced criminal penalties and expanded addiction treatment services for various illicit drugs, including LSD, psilocybin and psilocin, methadone, oxycodone, heroin, MDMA, cocaine, and methamphetamine. These compounds remain illegal, but they are decriminalized – for now, anyway. In February 2024, the Oregon Senate passed House Bill 4002, aiming to reverse the decriminalization policy, introducing up to six months in jail for possessing small amounts of psychedelics. The bipartisan bill now awaits Governor Tina Kotek’s review. As of this writing, Gov. Kotek has not indicated whether she will sign it.
Colorado’s Legal Psychedelics Framework
Two years after Oregon’s landmark Psilocybin Services Act, Colorado voted for Proposition 122, the Decriminalization and Regulated Access Program for Certain Psychedelic Plants and Fungi Initiative. Prop 122 made Colorado the second U.S. state to affirm regulated access to legal psychedelics.
Proposition 122 directed Colorado’s Department of Regulatory Agencies to establish a Regulated Natural Medicine Access Program where licensed healing centers will administer supervised natural medicine services. The Department may start accepting facilitator applications by the end of 2024, with healing centers expected to open in early 2025.
The measure also decriminalized personal use and possession of natural medicines but did not provide a framework for retail sales.
Which psychedelics are legal in Colorado?
Colorado’s Proposition 122 defines the term “natural medicine” to initially include only psilocybin and psilocin. However, on June 1, 2026, the term may be expanded to incorporate ibogaine, DMT, and mescaline (excluding peyote) if the Natural Medicine Advisory Board recommends it. Additionally, Proposition 122 decriminalized the possession, growth, and transport of these natural psychedelics for adults age 21 and older.
Decriminalization in Colorado
Colorado’s Prop 122 included a provision for decriminalizing psychedelics. The provision affirms that “possessing, storing, using, processing, transporting, purchasing, obtaining, and ingesting natural medicine for personal use, or giving away natural medicine for personal use without remuneration” is not an offense under state law or the laws of any Colorado locality. It allows Colorado adults to grow natural plant psychedelics and fungi so long as they remain in the person’s private home and are secured from access by minors.
However, Colorado’s lawmakers recently revised the bill, placing $100 penalties on public consumption and $1,000 fines on people who violate the private property requirement.
Where in the U.S. are Psychedelics Decriminalized?
As of April 2024, Oregon and Colorado are the only states to enact statutes decriminalizing psychedelics use, possession, or cultivation. However, more than two dozen U.S. cities have deprioritized criminal enforcement of psychedelic offenses.
Which U.S. Cities Have Deprioritized Enforcing Criminal Penalties for Psychedelic Use?
Twenty-four cities, primarily in Massachusetts, California, and Michigan, have reduced psychedelics offenses to the lowest possible law enforcement priority. Most resolutions incorporate entheogenic plants and fungi, including psilocybin mushrooms, mescaline (except peyote), and ayahuasca. Most reforms exclude synthetic compounds like LSD, MDMA, and ketamine.
The current list of municipalities that have reduced psychedelic offenses includes:
1. Seattle, WA 2. Port Townsend, WA 3. Berkeley, CA 4. San Francisco, CA 5. Santa Cruz, CA 6. Oakland, CA 7. Eureka, CA 8. Arcata, CA 9. Denver, CO 10. Ann Arbor, MI 11. Detroit, MI 12. Hazel Park, MI 13. Ferndale, MI 14. Ypsilanti, MI 15. Portland, ME 16. Minneapolis, MN 17. Cambridge, MA 18. Somerville, MA 19. Northampton, MA 20. Easthampton, MA 21. Salem, MA 22. Amherst, MA 23. Provincetown, MA 24. Washington, DC
Where Are Psychedelics Legal Around the World?
Legal psychedelics only exist in a handful of places, including Jamaica, Brazil, Nepal, Samoa, and the British Virgin Islands. However, several countries allow psychedelic use and possession through decriminalization and spiritual freedom measures.
Austria Austria decriminalized personal possession of psilocybin in 2016 and generally avoids criminal penalties as its first drug enforcement option. However, all psychedelics are still illegal under federal law in Austria.
Croatia Croatia decriminalized drug use in small quantities, including psychedelics. However, psychedelics remain illegal overall in the nation. Offenders caught possessing psychedelics in Croatia may face mandatory rehab, community services, or a fine of €2,680.
The Czech Republic The Czech Republic’s criminal code does not treat drug use as an offense. Possessing small quantities of drugs, including psychedelics, for personal purposes is punishable by a fine.
Costa Rica Costa Rica does not list Ayahuasca as a controlled substance and broadly accepts its cultural use. This acceptance allows ayahuasca retreat centers to operate without fear of prosecution throughout the country. Additionally, Costa Rica’s societal norms accept psilocybin use in traditional and spiritual contexts, although psilocybin mushrooms are not explicitly legal.
Bahamas The Bahamas legally allows the use of psilocybin-containing mushrooms, as they are not classified as a “dangerous drug” by the government. The 1971 UN Convention technically prohibits the sale of all illicit drugs in the Bahamas. However, psilocybin retreats and ibogaine clinics are prevalent throughout.
Brazil People can readily find ayahuasca and mushroom retreats in Brazil and likely won’t face criminal penalties for possession or use. Neither are commercially available, and the active compounds they contain are banned. However, Brazil legalized the ayahuasca plant for spiritual use in 1968. And psilocybin mushrooms do not fall on the country’s list of prohibited substances.
British Virgin Islands The British Virgin Islands permit the legal use and possession of psilocybin mushrooms. Selling them remains illegal. However, visitors and locals report that mushrooms are available for discreet purchase at public events.
Jamaica Jamaica has become the world leader in the legal psychedelics industry. The Jamaican government actively promotes the nation as a destination for researching, developing, and exporting psilocybin products. It has set interim protocols for supporting cultivation and processing. Jamaica is also a global hub for psychedelic retreats and retail sales.
Mexico Psilocybin mushrooms are Schedule I in Mexico. However, Indigenous communities openly use psilocybin mushrooms in traditional healing rituals, and several psychedelic retreat centers operate openly in Mexico. That’s because Article 195 of the Penal Code says Mexico’s Federal Public Ministry will not prosecute people who possess narcotics for personal medical treatment or who have peyote or hallucinogenic mushrooms intended for traditional ceremonies.
Netherlands Magic truffles are legal in the Netherlands and available for sale in smart shops throughout Amsterdam. Additionally, psychedelics retreat centers operate legally in the nation, serving various entheogenic plants. However, possessing, selling, and using traditional psilocybin mushrooms remains illegal in the Netherlands. Additionally, psilocin, mescaline, and DMT extracts are banned, even for religious use.
Nepal Psilocybin mushrooms are unscheduled in Nepal, meaning the government does not regulate or criminally prosecute their use, possession, sale, or distribution. According to local producers, psilocybin mushrooms have a significant cultural presence in the country, and adults regularly consume the fungi for spiritual purposes.
Ecuador In Ecuador, certain medicinal plants and derivatives, including San Pedro and ayahuasca are legally permitted in certain ceremonial contexts. Retreats serving foreigners are common throughout the country.
Portugal Portugal enacted Law 20/2000 decriminalizing the personal possession of all illicit drugs, including psychedelics. Adult use of psychedelics is now an administrative offense rather than a criminal act in Portugal. At worst, offenders may have to surrender their stash and engage in community service.
Samoa Psilocybin mushrooms are legal in Samoa for personal use, possession, cultivation, and transport because they do not appear in the nation’s drug laws. Psilocybin mushrooms grow in natural settings and are called “Pulouaitu.”
Spain Law enforcement in Spain typically does not criminally prosecute adults for possessing or using psychedelics like psilocybin. However, localities retain the authority to establish their own regulations.
Where is Psychedelic Therapy Legal Around the World?
Psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy is a brand-new modality in the West. Australia is the only country to codify this medical protocol into law.
MDMA and Psilocybin for PTSD and Depression in Australia
On February 3rd, 2023, Australia became the first country to legalize psychedelic therapy. The nation’s Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA) declared that psychiatrists could prescribe MDMA or psilocybin to manage PTSD and treatment-resistant depression. In September 2024, the first psychedelic therapy center, Clarion Clinics, opened its doors, charging patients $24,000 for a nine-month protocol.
Ketamine Therapy in the U.S. and Around the World
Ketamine therapy is legal throughout the United States due to its FDA-approval status. Canada, the United Kingdom, the Czech Republic, Germany, and several other nations allow ketamine for “off-label” medical and therapeutic use as well.
Ketamine is not a classic psychedelic compound. However, it does elicit dissociative psychedelic effects and a reported rapid mood boost through its NMDA receptor action. Most clinicians prescribe or administer ketamine as an off-label drug in IV, tablet, or nasal spray form for various mental health concerns, including treatment-resistent depression, chronic pain management, PTSD, severe anxiety disorder, suicidality, OCD, and substance abuse issues.
Treatment does not require that patients seek professional mental health support. However, ketamine-assisted psychotherapy can help people experience more enduring benefits compared to receiving the medicine alone.
MDMA Therapy in the U.S.: A Look Ahead
In December 2023, the nonprofit Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) submitted a new drug application for MDMA-assisted therapy. The application currently sits with the FDA for review, with potential approval as soon as August 2024. If approved, the DEA must reschedule the compound from Schedule I within 90 days. About half of the states are expected to follow federal recommendations. The other half must take legislative action to change their drug laws before patients can access the treatment.
Regardless of the red tape ahead, the U.S. could soon become the second nation to legalize psychedelic therapy, providing life-saving medicine to the most vulnerable populations.
Feeling like you’ve only begun to scratch the surface? Learn more about legal psychedelic considerations and how they may impact your practice in our course, Navigating Psychedelics for Clinicians and Wellness Practitioners. Classes begin May 8. Seats are limited, so don’t delay.
Much like the psychedelic experience itself, the idea of ‘spaceholding’ or ‘holding space’ can strike some as a nebulous concept.
The term is largely synonymous with psychedelic facilitation or ceremony leading. When executed poorly, or not considered at all, the consequences can be severe for the recipient.
Why Holding Space Matters
When the psychedelic kicks in – whether it be psilocybin, ayahuasca, or 5-MeO-DMT – the individual may arrive at a fork in the road where the ego is invited to dissolve. How they navigate this juncture is key to the quality of the experience and managing their passage towards bliss is one of the key areas where a space holder can earn their salt.
With a safe container created for exploration and tools at hand, including mantras, breathing techniques, and attentive coaching, the journeyer is empowered to surrender gracefully through the depths of consciousness (and, possibly, dimensions). In that moment of ego death – should it occur during the trip – the body can experience long overdue relief from near perpetual fight or flight through a state of rest and digestion which promotes healing.
But in a chaotic setting, left unaided without guidance, travelers may find themselves engulfed in waves of fear and discomfort, veering into distress and confusion and finding elusive the state of simply being, without worries.
The Crucial Role of the Space Holder
The best space holders are beacons of guidance and support in the ethereal, mind-manifesting kaleidoscopic landscapes of a psychedelic journey. Their influence can determine the trip’s trajectory, and the best space holders remain discrete until they are called upon, possessing an intuitive sense of when greater direct presence is necessary.
In the uncharted territory of the psychedelic ’20s, as every man and his dog decides to serve toad venom and ayahuasca, the psychedelic community is increasingly emphasizing the need for well-trained facilitators. Initiatives and training programs like Navigating Psychedelics: For Clinicians and Wellness Practitioners aim to help equip those holding space with the skills to compassionately and adeptly facilitate psychedelic experiences for individuals and groups.
“Psychedelic therapy can bring about intense psychological, emotional, and physical experiences,” writes Michelle Anne Hobart, a spiritual emergence coach. It is thus crucial for space holders to be well-versed in trauma-informed practices to mitigate any issues that may arise, remaining calm, supportive and empathetic for their clients.
Creating Internal Space Through Set and Setting
In a sense, the phrase ‘space holder’ is metaphoric and refers to the creation of an internal sanctuary for the journeyer, through the adept management of their immediate external reality. Common pitfalls of flawed space holders can include a propensity for touch that may lead to intrusive physical contact, or encouraging excessively high doses. These missteps can all take the participant deeper into the experience than they are comfortable with, and risk energetic transference between the space holder and the participant.
Space holders must exhibit sensitivity and awareness, not only in setting the space optimally with appropriate music, smells, and vibes, but also in witnessing, guiding, and comforting individuals throughout their journey.
Otherwise, ceremonies intended to bring about transmutation and recalibration can become potentially dangerous and risk re-wounding participants who turned up to heal. “The ones who are in the role of holding vigil must be as attuned as the survivors of trauma and spiritual emergency themselves have had to be,” adds Hobart.
Maintaining Personal Integrity
The participant has effectively given the space holder permission to witness them in a highly suggestible, hyperplastic and defenseless state. “You’re really putting yourself in someone else’s hands in a very, very vulnerable way, even if you’re an experienced psychonaut,” says Dr. Ido Cohen, a psychedelic facilitator and the founder of the Integration Circle.
The space holder may wish to remain as invisible as possible until they are called upon. It can be tricky to know when greater presence is required, and when to simply allow the profound journey of self-discovery and transformation to happen.
An often-overlooked element of space holding is the ability to be completely present with a participant in their process without judgment or having a desire to give advice, according to Victoria Wueschner, president of F.I.V.E. (5-MeO-DMT Information & Vital Education). Deep in the throes of a visionary psychedelic journey, emotions and words shared may inadvertently relate to the space holder, but it is imperative they do not take it personally and instead remain in a state of compassionate detachment.
“When facilitators step into the role of being a space holder, they commit to giving their full attention and presence to the participant by actively listening with compassion, free of personal ego or motive,” says Wueschner.
‘Let the Unfolding Experience Be the Guide’
If somebody feels unsafe, rushed, or judged, it is more likely that negative thoughts and unresolved memories can arise in an overwhelming fashion. The space holder ideally lifts the weight from the participant’s shoulders, and when the path is clear, a protective bubble is created to block distractions and allow greater space for them to dive deep into their psyches and transform their inner worlds. The space holder is their unobtrusive cheerleader.
The key principles of the Zendo Project, which provides harm reduction education and psychedelic peer support services, are trusting, letting go, being open, breathing and surrendering. The organization advises space holders to be calm, meditative presences of acceptance, care, and compassion.
“Promote feelings of trust and security,” they say on their website. “Let the person’s unfolding experience be the guide. Don’t try to get ahead of the process. Explore distressing issues as they emerge, but simply being with the person can provide support.”
Space Holding Begins Before the Space Opens (and Continues After It Closes)
Another aspect of space holding that can be neglected is the process of screening individuals to ascertain whether a particular psychedelic experience is suited for their needs, and then helping people prepare. If a space holder does not, at a minimum, offer to conduct a call before the journey day and provide some preparation exercises – such as intention-setting, journalling or meditation – then that should ring alarm bells.
Space holding doesn’t end when the effect of the psychedelic wears off. A key component of the healing process is the integration – a period which can consist of check-in calls, talk therapy, and the provision of a personalized schedule of activities such as spending time in nature and avoiding certain foods.
But, ultimately, everything is rooted in a trusting bond between the space holder and the patient or client, says Dr. David Rabin, a psychiatrist and neuroscientist who co-founded Apollo Neuroscience.
“Holding space always begins with a safe setting, rooted in trust, that helps to create the fertile ground for the seed of healing to grow. Without the trust and safety of the therapeutic alliance, the healing process can be completely shut down.”
While psychoactive substances like psilocybin and MDMA have taken the spotlight as frontrunners in psychedelic-assisted therapy, the growing impact of cannabis in combating treatment-resistant trauma is becoming undeniable.
Despite Western science largely overlooking the psychedelic potential of cannabis, recent insights from a literature review in the Journal of Psychopharmacology suggest that high doses of THC may indeed induce psychedelic effects.
However, the ongoing industry discourse begs the question: Is cannabis truly a psychedelic?
Cannabis in Cracking Open Dissociation
Have you ever embarked on a psychedelic experience, anxiously anticipating the arrival of breathing objects and fractal patterns, only to find your visual reality unchanged? Cannabis could be key to unlocking the desired psychedelic effect.
According to psychotherapist and MAPS phase 2 clinical investigator, Saj Razvi, this phenomenon of lackluster psychedelic experiences could be directly attributed to “dissociation.”
“Generally, mental health is not very good at realizing dissociation — tracking it, working with it,” said Razvi, founder and director of education at the Psychedelic Somatic Institute. “A major component of what we call ‘treatment resistance’ is dissociation.”
In the case of those who don’t feel the anticipated effects of a psychedelic, it’s likely the substance is butting up against dissociation within an individual’s system, thereby suppressing the psychedelic experience.
“This means that we’re secreting endogenous opioids to physically, emotionally, and psychologically numb us out,” he told Psychedelics Today.
Enter cannabis. The plant, Razvi says, seems to work with dissociation faster than any other medicine he has encountered.
Razvi’s clinical work conducted in Amsterdam sheds further light on the role of cannabis in addressing non-responsiveness to classical psychedelics like psilocybin. A percentage of individuals showed no significant response to psilocybin, reporting only subtle perceptual shifts (if anything at all). During their rest period, before their next psilocybin session, Razvi offered participants the opportunity to explore cannabis.
“What we observed was that individuals who were non-responders to psilocybin exhibited a response to cannabis, and what the cannabis targeted was their dissociation.”
Remarkably, after three sessions of cannabis work, participants experienced such a reduction in dissociation that their subsequent psilocybin experiences were drastically different.
“Cannabis is one of the most grossly underestimated and misunderstood medicines in the psychedelic medicine cabinet,’” Micah Stover, a somatic psychedelic therapist trained under Razvi’s PSIP model, told Psychedelics Today.
“When we talk about psychedelic therapy, we emphasize the importance of set and setting. If we’re not in an optimal set and setting, we often fail to consider it as such. However, when we use (cannabis) within that context, our experience can be wildly impactful,” Stover said.
Is Cannabis Truly Psychedelic? Definitions Matter
But the question remains: despite the potential for cannabis to assist in sparking psychedelic experiences with classic entheogens, is it truly a psychedelic itself?
The recent Journal of Psychopharmacology review concluded that the dosage, set, and settings used within cannabis trials conducted so far may not have been conducive to eliciting psychedelic-like experiences, indicating a need for further research.
On the other hand, evidence has indicated that high doses of THC can lead to mystical-type experiences, one of the key clinical features of classical psychedelics.
According to Razvi, the answer to the question all depends on how you define “psychedelic.”
“In my definition of it, yes. It’s taking us to primary consciousness, it’s giving us a different experience of primary consciousness than classic psychedelics, but it is a psychedelic in that it really shifts where we’re operating from.”
So, what sets cannabis apart from other psychoactive substances and how do its effects on the mind and body differ?
With classic tryptamines, transpersonal experiences are typically felt, like “unity consciousness, and existential reconciliation,” Razvi said. Unlike tryptamines, MDMA and cannabis typically do not induce the same level of transpersonal consciousness.
“Both of those medicines (MDMA and cannabis) are so useful for working with trauma because they’re not transpersonal in nature. They’re very personal, they don’t challenge the fundamental you,” he said.
Another trait that MDMA and cannabis share with psychedelics is their ability to heighten body awareness and pre-sensate experiences.
“With that sensate reality of our bodies, people notice things at very detailed levels that they don’t normally notice at all,” Razvi told Psychedelics Today.
Another notable ability of cannabis, he says, is how it disrupts executive function.
“Your capacity to tell a story, your mind’s ability to work in any kind of normal way gets thoroughly disrupted by cannabis. I think it’s one of the reasons why cannabis is so distrusted in mental health — we can’t do traditional talk therapy on it.”
Not only is it helpful to incorporate somatic modalities in cannabis work, it’s necessary, Razvi says. The gift of cannabis is, “it places us in the arena where somatic therapies work.”
Opening Doors to Transpersonal States
Could cannabis then be a valuable entry point to non-ordinary, psychedelic states? Razvi suggests it’s a good idea to reclaim the foundation of your physical being first.
“If your nervous system exists in a state of compromise, meaning there’s a lot of dissociation in your system, you can do transpersonal work, but you’re doing it from a position of a compromised foundation.”
He suggests that individuals dealing with pre-personal biological levels of trauma and compromise in their system may find resolution for those layers working with less transpersonal medicines, such as cannabis and MDMA.
“Ideally, resolve that layer, then move on to more transpersonal experiences,” he says.
“Something I have observed in clients is how they assimilate new ideas and upgrade their belief systems following a psilocybin experience, which can be beneficial as their old beliefs might have become ineffective,” Stover added.
“However, there’s often a disconnect between their newfound ideas and their physical bodies. So, body and spirit are in different places and this is why somatic work is so hugely important. Cannabis can be a powerful ally — when facilitated in the right process — to sync body and mind.”
The Ritual Use of Cannabis
Turning toward the wisdom of communities who have integrated cannabis within their cultural frameworks: for a rural community in Catalonia called Wonderland (or País de las Maravillas), cannabis has long been woven into ritual contexts.
Research on the ritualistic use of cannabis concluded that the rituals “can even generate beneficial effects for the individual as well as the community by strengthening bonds between community members,” and, “are seen as spiritual or religious practices, as well as forms of self-care and community-care, rather than involving drug dependence or addiction.”
Ultimately, whether within communal or scientific settings, context matters and, much like a classical psychedelic, the outcome of cannabis experiences is highly dependent on the nature in which they are consumed.
Healing Experiences Within a Relational Context
“People should not walk away thinking that if they smoke cannabis, they are going to have deeply restorative psychedelic experiences for their nervous system and trauma,” Stover cautions.
If individuals plan to consume cannabis as part of a ritual or ceremony – just like psychedelics – the relationship matters.
“Arguably, I think that’s true to some degree with all (substances), but certainly, if we’re going to try to leverage cannabis as a healing agent in this way,” she said.
“I think this is where the gold is, right?” Razvi added. “I think we’re missing out on major therapeutic opportunities when we’re doing more non-relational, sitter models. Human relational wounding requires human relational work.”
Continuing the debate, is cannabis a psychedelic? It appears it would depend on who you ask.
However, whether the psychedelic community chooses to label cannabis a psychedelic, its significance as a valuable therapeutic medicine is undeniable.
One thing remains certain: the true healing power of mind-altering substances comes down to who, what, where, and why we are taking them. In that respect, cannabis has definitely earned a seat at the table.
Psychedelics on their own can’t save people from chronic depression. Therapists alone can’t do it either. However, entheogens can spark the journey toward wholeness, and skilled psychedelic integration therapy can illuminate the path forward.
How is this made possible? The key is to align modern clinical interventions with the transformative experiences psychedelic substances elicit. And to view psychedelic integration therapy through a holistic lens that addresses the interconnectedness of existence.
What is Psychedelic Integration Therapy?
Indigenous communities worldwide have been integrating psychedelic experiences through diets, prayer, song, and communal gatherings for hundreds – and maybe even thousands – of years. However, structured psychedelic integration therapy is a novel practice that Western clinicians are experimenting with in real time. Loosely defined, psychedelic integration therapy is the diverse process where practitioners support patients in their pursuit to transform non-ordinary experiences into positive, lasting change.
Patients need this support because psychedelics themselves do not cure depression, contrary to conspicuous headlines. More often than not, high-dose psilocybin, ayahuasca, and LSD journeys shine a light on the areas where people are stuck, and shift the brain’s normal functioning in such a way that they can see a road out.
Psychedelic consumption then opens a brief window of neuroplasticity where patients can reframe past traumas and develop new, healthy habits. This period of heightened cognitive flexibility allows therapists to assist clients in harnessing their experiences for enduring transformations, whether simple or challenging.
Integration therapy’s primary goal is to maximize the benefits of uplifting journeys and minimize harm in distressing journeys.
Maximize Benefits: Patients who intentionally consume psychedelics with an open mindset in a safe environment (set and setting) typically have awe-inspiring experiences that radically shift their perspectives. Many people experience an “afterglow” in the days, weeks, and months following. But psychedelic experiences can still become a distant memory, and depression symptoms can reoccur. So, psychedelic integration therapy seeks to engrain the lessons in the patient’s psyche for a lifetime ahead.
Minimize Harm: Psychedelics are non-specific amplifiers, which means they intensify thoughts, feelings, and perceptions in unpredictable ways that are highly individual. For some people, the experience is uncomfortable and even re-traumatizing, causing adverse psychological symptoms afterward. In these scenarios, integration therapy’s first goal is to relieve the patient’s distress and prevent long-term damage. Subsequently, therapists can try to help patients reframe their negative perceptions and find nuggets of insight that guide productive exploration.
Key Aspects of Integration
Psychedelic integration encompasses several steps that can vary from one practitioner to the next. However, research indicates the process universally falls into two core subdomains: reflection and application.
The reflection subdomaininvolves the internal process of contemplating and making sense of the psychedelic experience. It is a period of introspection where clients examine the symbolic, emotional, psychological, and spiritual content. Through reflection, clients connect aspects of their experience with their lives, deriving meaning and understanding from what they have encountered.
The application subdomain pertains to external actions that incorporate psychedelic insights and lessons into daily life. Application involves changing behavior, lifestyle, and relationships based on newfound understanding and awareness. This can include adopting healthier habits, altering one’s approach to interpersonal relationships, or making career or personal life changes that align more closely with one’s values and aspirations.
Psychedelic integration does not necessarily require therapeutic intervention. However, clinical psychedelic therapy trials employ models like Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) and the Accept, Connect, Embody Model (ACE). Many also incorporate mindfulness practices and Internal Family Systems (IFS) to support effective integration. All modalities focus on flexibility, awareness, internal harmony, and channeling unconscious processes into conscious understanding.
Acceptance and Commitment Therapy
A 2020 psilocybin-assisted therapy paper proposed Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) for integration due to its efficacy in treating depression and for its alignment with psychedelic experiences.
ACT synergizes with psilocybin therapy because both emphasize psychological flexibility and living a conscious life rather than symptom reduction. ACT utilizes six central tenets of psychological flexibility: present-moment focus, acceptance, self-as-context, cognitive defusion, valued direction, and committed action. Psilocybin therapy enhances these processes by facilitating present-moment awareness, surrendering to experiences, fostering ego dissolution, exploring values, and providing a window of opportunity for behavior change during the afterglow period.
As the integration process begins, the ACT frame suggests that therapists patiently listen to clients share their experiences without immediately applying therapeutic techniques. Gradually, therapists identify and draw parallels between the client’s experiences and ACT principles.
Through tools like the Valued Living Questionnaire, clients clarify their values and consider how their lives align with or diverge from them. Using the ACT Matrix, participants plan specific actions to live more by their values, guided by insights from their psychedelic experiences. Follow-up sessions assess changes in psychological flexibility and reinforce ACT concepts, ensuring participants can apply their insights and maintain behavioral changes.
Accept, Connect, Embody Model
The Accept, Connect, Embody Model (ACE) follows a similar structure to ACT but with an intuitive shift.
Dr. Rosalind Watts and Dr. Jason Luoma introduced ACE for integrating psychedelic experiences into therapeutic practice. It is based on clinical experience and data from psilocybin trials, which highlight acceptance and connection as critical components of positive therapeutic outcomes.
The ACE model utilizes ACT’s six processes of psychological flexibility but reorganizes them into an acceptance triad (defusion, present moment focus, willingness) and a connection triad (self as context, values, committed action). It emphasizes the importance of accepting challenging experiences, connecting to positive aspects, and deeply embodying these experiences through somatic engagement.
ACE helps prepare clients for psychedelics and integrates their experiences afterward in three stages.
Stage One: Pulling Together the Narrative Patients share their psychedelic experiences freely while therapists facilitate understanding and validation, fostering trust for a deeper exploration.
Stage Two: Distilling Key Insights Therapists help patients identify vital lessons from their experiences, linking these insights to personal values and life goals in a structured reflection process.
Stage Three: Supporting Behavior Change In this proactive phase, therapists guide patients in applying their psychedelic insights to concrete actions, supporting them in navigating challenges and changes.
Mindfulness-Based Interventions
Mindfulness-based interventions are less established than ACE and ACT in psychedelic trials. However, they play a role in nearly all integration frameworks, offering synergies that scientists suggest can inform clinical practice.
“… the Compass of psychedelics may serve to initiate, motivate, and steer the course of mindfulness practice; conversely, the Vehicle of mindfulness may serve to integrate, deepen, generalize, and maintain the novel perspectives and motivation instigated by psychedelics.”
Internal Family Systems
Internal Family Systems (IFS) is another therapeutic model gaining traction in psychedelic therapy. The approach offers a non-pathologizing, systems-oriented lens for integrating psychedelic experiences.
Internal Family Systems (IFS) operates on the premise that the mind is naturally multiple and that each person has a core self surrounded by various parts with distinct roles, feelings, and perspectives. According to Nancy L. Morgan, MS, PhD., IFS is particularly effective for psychedelic integration because it acknowledges the complexity and multiplicity of the psyche, mirroring the often multifaceted nature of psychedelic journeys.
For integration therapy, IFS facilitates a process where clients learn to recognize and understand their parts, especially those activated or revealed during a psychedelic experience. The core self is seen as inherently possessing compassion, curiosity, calm, clarity, courage, connectedness, confidence, and creativity. Therapists guide clients to embody these qualities, enabling them to engage with their parts in a healing and constructive manner.
By applying the IFS model to psychedelic integration, therapists provide a structured yet flexible framework that honors the client’s internal diversity.
Psychotherapeutic Limitations
Clinical data and academic inquiry provide useful psychedelic integration theories. However, research doesn’t empirically endorse any single protocol. Additionally, centuries of Indigenous psychedelic use indicate integration is not merely a psychoanalytical, behavioral, or even somatic approach to fixing a specific problem.
A more inclusive view of psychedelic integration reveals that the process can be a way of life. Integration doesn’t occur in distinct phases in Indigenous cultures. It happens through ongoing community rituals to foster harmony and alignment.
Integration, then, is about more than processing the psychedelic experience or overcoming specific difficulties, even if the experience might catalyze healing. It is about bringing peace to one’s whole existence, including physiological, spiritual, and social.
In certain cultures, integration practices encompass shamanic rituals, hypnosis, drumming, and chanting. In the West, they might look like walks in nature, dream journaling, volunteering, asking for help, and gratitude work.
Regardless of the cultural context, one aspect is clear: integration requires a comprehensive approach that goes beyond the therapeutic alliance.
The Synthesized Integration Model
To address the need for a comprehensive psychedelic integration framework, researchers developed the Synthesized Model of Integration. The model draws from holistic, Indigenous, and psychotherapeutic approaches to create a more balanced definition.
This model incorporates six interconnected domains of existence: mind/cognitive/emotional, bodily/somatic, spiritual/existential, natural world, relational/communal, and lifestyle/action. It suggests a balanced approach to integration, where an individual actively engages in practices across these domains to incorporate insights from their psychedelic experiences.
Holistic practices include engaging with nature, joining supportive communities, working with seasoned psychedelic guides, personal contemplation, and physical and spiritual practices — all of which extend beyond the boundaries of integration therapy sessions.
6 Psychedelic Integration Truths Every Practitioner Must Know
Western practitioners who seek to dive into the vast waters of psychedelic integration therapy must absorb an enormous swath of knowledge distilled into six simple truths.
1.Therapists need psychedelic knowledge and meta-skills: Practical integration guidelines indicate that psychedelic therapists must understand psychedelic effects, practice empathy, foster self-awareness, uphold ethics and master complementary techniques. Courses like Navigating Psychedelics for Clinicians and Wellness Practitioners are great places to start, providing psychedelic history, harm reduction, clinical applications, and space-holding skills for healers of all experience levels.
2. Integration is a patient-led experience: The American Psychedelic Practitioner’s Association highlights integration as a process primarily directed by the patient. This approach respects the patient’s autonomy and unique process of making sense of their psychedelic experiences. Therapists facilitate this approach by offering support, resources, and guidance rather than directing it.
3. Patients may not have concrete goals: Practitioners must be comfortable navigating the therapeutic process without concrete goals, acknowledging that the nature of psychedelic experiences and their integration can be fluid and evolving. This flexibility allows for a more organic and meaningful therapeutic journey.
4. Integration is a lifelong practice: Clinical trials may be finite, but psychedelic integration does not have a tangible limit. Therapists must acknowledge that integration is not a one-time event but a continuous process of incorporating insights and changes into one’s life.
5. Success is undefined, but tools exist to help gauge it: Psychedelic integration success is not strictly defined. However, emerging tools, like the Integration Engagement Scale (IES) and the Experienced Integration Scale (EIS), can help therapists evaluate patient progress. Clinicians and clients can use these scales to measure psychological well-being, life satisfaction changes, and specific symptomatology reductions to assess the impact of integration efforts and make changes as necessary.
6. Meaning-making is not confined to therapy settings: The process of constructing meaning from psychedelic experiences extends beyond the therapy room. It involves engaging in activities that reinforce and deepen the insights gained, such as journaling, meditation, and artistic expression. Therapists must encourage clients to engage in these diverse practices.
The Bottom Line
Successful integration is a patient-led, lifelong practice harnessing therapeutic techniques while extending beyond clinical sessions. With intelligent, compassionate integration therapy, psychedelic explorers can resolve mental health concerns while moving toward greater balance in every aspect of life.
The microdosing movement is flourishing, fueled by global citizen scientists reporting transformative wellness benefits. Yet, the practice is still an experiment. Most people have no idea what a microdosing protocol entails, what the experience feels like, or how long a microdose lasts. They are simply curious to know if low-dose psychedelics could be a game-changer for their mental and physical health.
This article provides a beginner’s guide to microdosing psilocybin and LSD, exploring research, protocols, and effects, and answering the question: How long does a microdose last?
What is Microdosing?
Microdosing is the art of ingesting low, sub-threshold doses of psychedelics, typically LSD or psilocybin, for mental and physical optimization. Most people turn to the practice to paint their lives with broader strokes of creativity and focus. Others seek to soften the grip of depression, alcohol dependence, and chronic pain.
Words like sub-perceptual, sub-sensorium, and sub-hallucinogenic also describe the microdosing experience. At about one-tenth of the recreational psychedelic dose, microdosing does not significantly alter consciousness. Rather, it delivers subtle or unnoticeable effects. Microdosers who do notice changes report feeling more energized, uplifted, focused, and in tune throughout the day. Others note slight perceptual changes, like sensitivity to light.
Mushroom and LSD microdoses usually kick in within a couple of hours of ingestion and linger throughout the day. One tiny dose can produce ‘afterglow’ effects lasting at least 48 hours. A regular microdosing practice, combined with rest periods, can elicit even longer-term benefits lasting weeks, months, or years.
LSD is far more potent than psilocybin mushrooms, so microdosing amounts differ significantly.
LSD microdoses typically fall between10 and 30 mcg
Psilocybin microdoses often range from 80 to 250 mg of dried mushrooms
Microdosing may seem like a brand new phenomenon, but the modern microdosing era began shortly after 1943 when Swiss chemist and Sandoz Laboratories employee Albert Hofmann accidentally discovered LSD’s psychedelic effects.
A few years later, the first human LSD trial defined microdosing and answered the question, how long does a microdose last? Swiss psychiatrist Werner A. Stoll, MD, in collaboration with Hofmann and Sandoz, tested LSD doses ranging from 20 mcg to 130 mcg.
The team determined that 25 mcg could elicit mild psychoactive symptoms without any overwhelm.
Sandoz subsequently synthesized 25 mcg LSD tablets, determining the onset of effects occurred between 30 and 90 minutes, with a duration of 5 to 12 hours.
A few LSD trials occurred in the years following, but political and societal pressures curtailed psychedelic research until the next century.
Finally, the 2010s witnessed a microdosing resurgence, largely due to Dr. James Fadiman and renowned mycologist, Paul Stamets. Their efforts, anecdotal reports, and growing media attention fueled a global movement and reignited scientific interest.
Dr. Fadiman’s website, Microdosingpsychedelics.com, quickly became the the first massive citizen scientists’ database, compiling transformational accounts from microdosers worldwide.
Microdosing Research
In 2019, the Quantified Citizen app engaged more than 12,000 participants in the world’s most extensive mobile microdosing study. The initiative revealed that “adults who microdose psychedelics report health-related motivations and lower levels of anxiety and depression compared to non‑microdosers.”
In April 2021, one of the first randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled microdosing studies found that LSD could increase overall pain tolerance by 20% at 20 mcg doses. It also showed how long a microdose might last, determining that 20 mcg was equally impactful at 1.5 and 5 hours after dosing. The finding suggests small LSD doses provide lasting pain relief beyond the peak onset.
However, this study did not address mental health outcomes.
Double-blind, placebo-controlled studies confirming that microdosing improves anxiety and depression are scarce. The few that exist suggest benefits might arise from the placebo effect, where the person feels better because they believe they’ve taken something that should help – even if it doesn’t have active pharmaceutical properties.
However, microdosing advocates argue that double-blind studies are inherently flawed, partly because they occur in sterile medical environments that do not accurately reflect the real world. Imperfect clinical data cannot diminish people’s concrete experiences.
Microdosing Experience and Duration
Microdosers report a wide range of experiences based on their psychedelic tolerance, the substance they consume, the dosage, and their unique mental state. Emotional and cognitive shifts typically arise in 60 minutes, with noticeable impacts lasting up to 10 hours. Some people report an afterglow effect up to 48 hours after microdosing.
How long does an LSD microdose last?
One pharmacology study found that 20 to 60 mcg of LSD administered intraspinally delivers effects in less than an hour, peaking within the hour and lasting nine to ten hours. However, these results could be skewed because most people do not take LSD intraspinally. Oral and sublingual ingestion are the most common routes.
Fortunately, citizen science reports from sources like Erowid shed more light on the question of how long an LSD microdose lasts.
One Erowid contributor, Tetrisdroid, reported taking approximately 30 mcg of LSD daily for a week for his depression and anxiety.
On day one, Tetrisdroid noticed “barely perceptible” effects about an hour after consuming the dose. He felt slightly lightheaded and noticed the office lights seemed brighter than usual. About six hours later, the light sensitivity subsided.
On day two of microdosing, Tetrisdroid headed into the office for a weekly staff meeting. Such meetings normally stir up anxiety, but he reported feeling much more relaxed. He had trouble organizing thoughts but felt at ease nonetheless. Again, he reported seeing the lights much brighter than usual throughout the day.
Day three left Tetrisdroid noticeably less stressed for the entire workday, suggesting that the LSD microdose lasted at least six hours.
By the end of the week, Tetrisdroid acknowledged that microdosing LSD might have provided a placebo effect. But either way, he felt better and learned he could go a week without turning to other drugs as a way of self-medicating.
How long does a psilocybin microdose last?
Research suggests psilocybin microdoses should be noticeable within 1.5 hours of ingestion. Studies do not indicate how long the effects persist. However, personal stories reveal a psilocybin microdose can last at least seven hours.
Erowid contributor “Katalyst” experimented with microdosing psilocybin mushrooms for seasonal depression. She started with doses ranging from .2g every four days.
At .2g doses, Katalyst experienced mild euphoria, sweaty palms, and increased introspection throughout the first two hours. Lower doses of .1g, resulted in a more neutral mood without noticeable side effects.
Microdosing effects, including increased focus and mild euphoria, typically lasted up to seven hours after consumption.
After experimenting with different amounts and schedules, Katalyst found that .15g of psilocybin every two weeks was most effective in alleviating her seasonal depression. She found that .2g was too high, inducing uncomfortable hypomania.
Ultimately, Katalyst decided to continue microdosing on the bi-weekly schedule in future winters.
How Long Do Microdosing Benefits Last?
Clinical data cannot confirm microdosing benefits or their duration. However, participants of a self-blinding microdosing trial indicated that the benefits lasted up to five weeks.
During this timeframe, the microdosers experienced significant improvements in psychological measures such as well-being, mindfulness, life satisfaction, and paranoia compared to baseline. The changes might have occurred due to the placebo effect, but the outcomes were positive nevertheless.
Countless microdosers, including the Silicon Valley elite, have been utilizing intermittent low-dose protocols for years. So, microdosing benefits seem to extend much further than five weeks.
How Often Should You Microdose?
Microdosing protocols are as unique as the people who take them. Frequency and dosages will shift depending on the person and their goals. The only consistent answer to “How often should you microdose?” is not every day.
Daily psychedelic ingestion will cause the body to develop a rapid tolerance. As tolerance rises, microdosers will experience diminishing returns, requiring higher quantities to achieve the same effects.
Most microdosing protocols suggest intermittent consumption throughout the week, along with rest periods, to avoid these issues.
The Fadiman Protocol
The Fadiman Protocol, or the Beginner’s Protocol, follows a three-day cycle established by Dr. James Fadiman. It distinguishes between microdosing and non-microdosing days so people can take advantage of the two-day afterglow.
Day 1: Take the microdose.
Day 2: No microdose, allowing the body to integrate the effects.
Day 3: No microdose, continuing the break.
Repeat the cycle for four to eight weeks with a two to four-week break.
The Stamets Protocol
The Stamets Protocol, proposed by Paul Stamets, involves more frequent dosing options. These schedules aim to maintain consistent benefits while minimizing tolerance buildup.
One option includes a five-day on, two-day off regimen.
Another option suggests four days on and three days off.
Repeat the cycle for four weeks with a two to four-week rest.
The Microdosing Institute Protocol
The Microdosing Institute protocol suggests microdosing every other day for eight weeks. This method aims to enhance the effectiveness of microdosing for medical or psychological purposes such as depression, social anxiety, ADHD/ADD, migraine, or cluster headaches.
Day 1: Microdose.
Day 2: Transition day, no microdose.
Day 3: Microdose again.
Repeat the cycle for four to eight weeks, followed by a two to four-week rest period.
The Bottom Line
Microdosing offers a nuanced approach to whole-body health through the strategic consumption of low-dose psychedelics. The experience is incredibly mild, allowing people to function like normal. But, the effects are still noticeable, easing anxiety, improving emotional functioning, and minimizing pain for several hours. People who feel called to the practice should continue exploring the research and learning from citizen scientists across the globe.
Learn more about the most microdosing protocols and create your own personalized dosage plan with our Microdosing Masterclass.
As interest in psychedelic therapy continues to grow, many therapists and wellness practitioners are looking to incorporate these powerful substances into their work.
However, working with psychedelics in a practice is a unique and complex field that requires specific knowledge, skills, and experience. Approaching psychedelic work without careful preparation could result in unfavorable and even dangerous outcomes for the client seeking psychedelic therapy. If you’re considering adding psychedelic-informed services to your practice, here are some key things you need to know:
Understanding the History and Cultural Significance
Despite the recent resurgence of psychedelics in popular culture, people have been using psychedelics for a variety of reasons for thousands of years. While modern research and science have been informing much of our perspectives on psychedelic therapy, we do need to pay respect to the peoples who used these substances first. Do some historical research to familiarize yourself with how different cultures discovered and used psychedelics. Their techniques and cosmologies can be vastly different from the Western world, but these are important perspectives that can help you understand how these medicines and substances can work.
This understanding will provide you with crucial context of how to deal with certain themes of the psychedelic experience in therapeutic settings as well. For example, how do you navigate a conversation with a client about the spirit of ayahuasca showing up in their dreams before or after a ceremony?
Harm Reduction Techniques
Many people are turning towards psychedelics for healing and self-exploration. While there are many more resources out there nowadays, clients may still be coming to you with questions about their therapeutic potential. It’s important to learn and gain skills in basic harm reduction techniques, and to meet your clients where they’re at. It’s also important to analyze our own beliefs and biases around psychedelics and understand that these powerful substances are not for everyone.
Psychedelic therapy can bring about intense psychological, emotional, and physical experiences. Even if the practitioner or therapist has the best intentions, clients can experience harm in sessions. It’s crucial to be well-versed in this area to help mitigate any contraindications, adverse effects, or challenging experiences that may arise, so you’re able to stay calm, hold space, and know how to handle the situation.
Ongoing Education and Supervision
Despite mounting evidence that psychedelics can be effective for treating depression, anxiety, PTSD, and other mental health disorders, this is still typically not taught in universities. If you’re interested in getting more involved in this field and incorporating psychedelic-informed practices into your work, it’s important to seek out continuing education to receive comprehensive knowledge on how to work with psychedelics. Navigating Psychedelics For Clinicians and Wellness Practitioners is a place where thousands of people new to the field have started their psychedelic education. This nine-week online course is specifically designed for health and wellness practitioners who want to learn more about psychedelic medicine or wish to integrate psychedelic harm reduction and integration into their existing practice, and those beginning a new career in the emerging field of psychedelics.
Legal and Ethical Considerations
Depending on where you may be planning to practice, psychedelics may or may not be legal. The legal psychedelic landscape varies from region to region, from the substances themselves, to who can administer them, to who can receive them. Make sure to familiarize yourself with the legal status of psychedelic substances in your area, and – while we don’t condone breaking the law – ask yourself what degree of risk you’re willing to assume if the law prohibits the type of work you hope to do. It’s also essential to consider your license and scope of practice. You may be putting your license at risk by openly offering services that are illegal or not supported by your professional boards.
Networking with Experienced Professionals
Finding an established, experienced network of professionals who have worked with psychedelics can provide valuable mentorship and support. Consider joining established online communities, reaching out to other professionals, and engaging in conversations to start making connections. We can’t do this work alone, and having a solid network of peers and colleagues is important in this ever-evolving and quickly growing field. Courses like Navigating Psychedelics are a great way to meet others and begin establishing your network of like-minded individuals.
Develop Space-Holding Skills
If you’ve begun to research psychedelic therapy, you’ve likely already encountered the term ‘set and setting.’ While ‘set’ typically refers to the journeyer’s mindset, ‘setting’ refers to the physical and emotional environment in which the client will receive care (before, during, and after the trip). As a practitioner, it’s crucial to gain skills in trauma-informed practices, and to create a safe, supportive, and empathetic environment for your clients. Ensuring you do your part to hold a positive space can have a drastic impact on client success.
Empathy, Openness, and Non-Judgment
Getting rid of any judgment, and cultivating a strong sense of openness and empathy is crucial before working with clients. And once you’re certain you’re ready to work with clients in this way, ensure you make it clear to them that they can rely on you to be a non-judgmental support. You may become the only person like this in their life, and they will likely find great relief and comfort in knowing that you will accept them as they are. Creating and communicating this mindset helps foster a therapeutic space where your clients can feel safe to show up authentically, do the work, and heal.
Doing Inner Work
Personal experience with psychedelics or other non-ordinary states is highly valuable to inform a practitioner’s understanding of how to navigate these profound states of consciousness. Find a safe, structured, and supportive environment to have your own experiences, to gain valuable insight into what your clients may go through. If taking a powerful substance right away seems daunting to you, transpersonal breathwork is an easily accessible practice you can use to begin experimenting with non-ordinary states of consciousness. Cannabis, too, while not considered psychedelic in the classical sense, can be substituted and used in ceremony or with a therapist to recreate a typical psychedelic therapy session. Many practitioners are also gaining experience with ketamine through ketamine-assisted psychotherapy services. And if you’re interested in making meaningful personal changes as you explore a psychedelic career, consider joining an upcoming cohort of the Vital 12-month program. It was designed specifically for people ready to transform – not just professionally, but personally, too.
Taking the Next Step
If you’re ready to begin building an ethical and responsible psychedelic-assisted practice, decide what your next steps will be. Whether simply by starting slowly with further reading, listening to psychedelic podcasts, or taking a course on your own time, there’s no shortage of resources for you to begin your journey today.
So, you’ve had a psychedelic experience. And somewhere within the sensory avalanche, the perplexing interior narrative, and avoiding looking at your own face in the bathroom mirror, you (gasp!) may have actually learned something. But what comes next? How can you ensure to take the insights you gathered and apply them to your life? Enter psychedelic integration.
What is Psychedelic Integration?
The word ‘integration’ comes from the Latin word ‘integrare,’ which means to make whole or begin again. It also has French roots, from the word ‘intégration,’ which speaks to ‘bringing together parts of a whole.’
While the psychedelic community has yet to uniformly align on a single definition for integration, we can begin to understand it by acknowledging that psychedelics can help disrupt and loosen our rigid personality structures and long-held beliefs. Integration is about finding a middle ground, fixing the tears in our narratives, and becoming whole again.
Sounds simple, right? Simple, yes. Easy, maybe not. Psychedelic integration is both passive and active. It takes time, willingness, and effort to work through and re-live a psychedelic experience within the natural mind. It can involve taking a thorough inventory of the mind, body, and spirit, and challenging oneself to dig deep, get uncomfortable, and sometimes, make big changes.
But don’t panic. Integration is an extremely personal process and doesn’t look the same for everyone. Before getting started, get grounded, give yourself permission to take your time, and treat yourself with love, compassion, and patience.
Document Everything
Someone I used to work with is fond of saying “it doesn’t exist if it isn’t written down.” And while, for our purposes, he uses it in terms of project management, the same is true for psychedelic integration.
As soon as you’ve had a little breathing room from the most intense part of the trip – either before the psychedelic substance has worn off, or a few days after – begin journaling. Writing or recording the parts of the experience that stood out to you is a great place to start while the memory is fresh in your mind.
Whether in a blank notebook, or an intentionally designed psychedelic Integration Workbook, capturing those fleeting thoughts and feelings is often considered a foundational step in psychedelic integration. If a blank page feels a little daunting, check out our comprehensive guide to integrating psychedelic experiences, including meditation prompts, structured journaling exercises, and goal planning.
Find Someone to Listen
After a profound psychedelic experience, it’s often helpful to share your story with someone. Whether a therapist experienced in psychedelic integration, a trusted friend, or a member of a psychedelic community, finding a non-judgmental person to hold space for you is important.
The act of verbalizing your experience can help in processing and understanding it on a deeper level. Your experience may have included some anxiety, depression, and discomfort. It’s crucial to find a person who is open-minded (and did we mention, non-judgmental?), allowing you the space to explore your thoughts and feelings without steering them in any particular direction.
If your resources are limited, or there just isn’t anyone in your circle who fits the bill, consider contacting Fireside Project, a free helpline for peer support before, during, and after a psychedelic experience.
“(The volunteers) come to the experiences having had their own experiences, and desiring to hold space for others as they navigate their experiences and navigate their processing afterwards. They’re not doing therapy. They’re not diagnosing. They’re really with the person (the caller, the texter) as somebody who gets it,” Fireside Project founder Hanifa Washington told Psychedelics Today.
Depending on the intensity of your experience and the state of your well-being in the aftermath, finding a trained professional or a doctor may be necessary – especially if you’re in distress.
Do Your Homework
Psychedelic integration also involves educating yourself about the psychedelic experience. Dive into books, scientific research, and personal accounts that discuss psychedelics and their effects on the mind and body. Understanding the psychological, neurological, and spiritual aspects of psychedelics can provide a richer context to your experience.
To really dig into your integration, consider taking an online course. Navigating Psychedelics: Lessons on Self-Care and Integration was designed so you can learn at your own pace, with lessons on how to get the most out of your experience and integrate psychedelic experiences into your daily life.
These days, there is more psychedelic information available to curious people than ever before. While there can be a lot to wade through, it’s best to find a format that’s easy and compelling to digest. This knowledge can help in recognizing common themes and lessons that emerge in psychedelic experiences. Knowledge is power, and there’s a lot of it out there for you to discover.
Take Care of Yourself
Physical health plays a significant role in psychological and spiritual well-being, especially after a psychedelic experience. And if you’ve just had one, your body might have gone through the ringer.
Ensure you’re taking care of your body through proper nutrition, adequate sleep, and regular exercise. Activities you enjoy, like yoga, art, meditation, and nature walks can also be beneficial, helping to ground your experiences in the physical world. Remember, a healthy body is crucial for a healthy mind. Though you may often hear about mental and physical health discussed separately, they are one in the same.
Find the Others
Outside of a therapist or coach, connecting with others who have had similar experiences can be incredibly beneficial for psychedelic integration. Look for community groups, workshops, or online forums where people discuss their psychedelic experiences and integration processes. Sharing with and learning from others can provide different perspectives and insights, and also remind you that you are not alone in this journey.
And even if, for example, you’ve taken psilocybin, don’t discount the experiences of those who have used other substances, from 5-MeO-DMT to ketamine (and all substances in between). While the substances and effects on the body and mind may differ, many of the feelings that can arise and the outcomes can be eerily similar. Finding commonality with many others who use psychedelics for healing and betterment can offer support, understanding, and camaraderie as you navigate your own integration journey.
Don’t Overthink It
The morning after my first ayahuasca experience, I woke up to a text from a friend that read:
Try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.
I didn’t fully embrace the sentiment of this quote, originally written by Austrian author Rainer Maria Rilke, until much later. My friend was gently urging me to avoid trying to decode the ayahuasca experience too quickly. I didn’t take this advice, and by the time I landed back in Canada, I decided the medicine was, without question, urging me to live with more gratitude. Maybe so, but maybe that wasn’t quite everything I could have learned, or even the most profound. Because I stopped asking questions, I closed the door to new insights.
“How beautiful that we have this access to deep knowledge of the universe through us, but we have to be quiet. We have to be quiet to hear the whispers of the heart. And when you become quiet, the whispers of the heart become louder and they start filling you in. Then you have to start believing it,” Dr. Michael Sapiro told Psychedelics Today.
Sometimes, psychedelic experiences can be colossal, endless, and enlightening.
And sometimes, they can also be underwhelming, unremarkable, and even boring. Resist the urge to define the ‘why’ too quickly after the substance has worn off. Take a beat, unpack it, and let it marinate in your mind for a bit before concluding its significance – there may be more (or less) there than you think.
One Step at a Time
Choosing to take psychedelics can be transformative, opening doors to new perspectives and deeper understanding of oneself. But remember, the true journey begins with integration — weaving these profound experiences into the tapestry of your daily life.
As you navigate this path, cherish the insights, embrace the challenges, and remember that psychedelic integration is meant to be a journey, not a destination.
With ayahuasca being cast into the spotlight, curious minds from all over the world are heading to Central and South America to experience it for themselves.
And while tales of profound healing are common, there exists a shadowy underbelly within the realm of such experiences – from the onset of psychotic episodes to acts of sexual exploitation.
So it begs the question: is ayahuasca the real deal? Can it profoundly change your life as the evangelists say, or is it just another fad that will fade if psychedelics fall out of the Western spotlight?
Over the last several years, my interest in exploring shamanic traditions led me to work closely with ayahuasca in Peru, Mexico, and Ecuador. I’ve sat in 20 ceremonies, and during a six-month period at a shamanic retreat center, I supported hundreds of individuals through their processes, witnessing various kinds of transformations.
Our left brain driven approach to understanding this medicine tends to fall short, as research and studies struggle to capture the subtleties and complexities of this undoubtedly strange but powerful teacher plant. Rather, we turn to tradition, ceremony, and wisdom passed down over countless generations to explore the consciousness-expanding properties of this plant medicine.
While ayahuasca shows promise in many cases, I want to emphasize that it’s not a miracle cure for anything. Not everyone benefits from it, and there are many instances where people are harmed by it. As with any psychedelic substance, many factors, most notably an individual’s physiology, intentions, circumstances, and location, influence the result.
So before we dive into some of the ways ayahuasca can change individuals, it’s important to preface: though I’ve witnessed and experienced positive change from ayahuasca, I’ve encountered individuals who suffered after consuming it.
For example, one woman reported frequent panic attacks following a ceremony. In another instance, I met a man struggling with bipolar disorder, who developed psychosis and required constant support post-experience. Unfortunately, it’s not uncommon to hear stories of sexual exploitation by shady shamans and cases of retraumatization.
Fortunately, I’ve mostly witnessed the positive side of this medicine, observing deeply transformational experiences that individuals have had on all levels of well-being.
Drawing from collective experiences and those of many people I worked with, here are some of the ways in which ayahuasca may bring about positive changes in individuals’ lives.
How Ayahuasca Affects the Physical Body
Ayahuasca has profound effects on consciousness, but it may also serve as a potent remedy for physical health. Whether it’s cleansing the body or restoring the brain to optimal function, there are many lesser-known physical health benefits this medicine carries.
Look at it this way: the body is a vessel, and the spirit prefers to live in a beautiful temple rather than a dilapidated mansion. This medicine cleanses this vessel to create space for the full expression of your soul.
Potential for Physical Cleansing
Ayahuasca is believed to remove impurities from the body, such as harmful toxins ingested from particular substances and products. While clinical research that validates this idea is lacking, some people have reported that ayahuasca detoxed their bodies from harmful medications and substances. The cleansing process involves purging, which can include vomiting, crying, sweating, and spontaneous rushes to the bathroom.
One man, who had previously worked with harmful chemicals, believed that ayahuasca flushed them out. Having suffered the long-standing consequences of radiation poisoning, he reported smelling those chemicals in his bucket after purging.
Purging serves as cleansing on a physical level, and it doubles up as an energetic release. After purging, many people report feeling much lighter on both a physical and emotional level.
Potential for Resetting Brain Chemistry
According to some individuals I worked with, ayahuasca helped restore their brain function to a more neutral state. This phenomenon was particularly evident in people with a history of substance abuse, where frequent use of specific substances resulted in physical and psychological imbalances.
These imbalances could manifest as hyperactivity, a lack of focus, mood swings, and depression. Some individuals displaying such behaviors reported feeling healthier following a ceremony, discovering a newfound sense of calmness and composure.
In the Be Conscious Podcast: Drug Addiction and the Power of Ayahuasca, Curandero Michael Thornhill, trained in the Noya Rao lineage, suggests that addiction often stems from deep-rooted trauma. Ayahuasca can aid in healing this trauma, eliminating the urge to escape reality via substance abuse. By considering substance abuse as a coping mechanism, ayahuasca has the potential to help individuals address the root cause, rendering the coping mechanism obsolete. However, an individual I encountered relapsed in the months following an ayahuasca retreat. This illuminates the necessity of ongoing support post-ceremony to solidify new habits and prevent reverting to old ones.
While ayahuasca holds promise, it’s a powerful medicine that can impact individuals differently, yielding unexpected results. Responsible exploration and informed decision-making are crucial when considering its use for addiction recovery, with a strong support network following the experience being necessary.
Potential for Clearing Bodily Dysfunctions
Ayahuasca’s physical effects may go beyond potentially cleansing the body; it may assist individuals dealing with persistent bodily dysfunctions. These issues can span the digestive system, sexual organs, respiratory system, and even nervous system dysregulation.
Several women I spoke to reported experiencing regulation of their menstrual cycle following a ceremony. This suggests that ayahuasca may contribute to restoring our bodies to a more optimal function.
It’s noteworthy that many individuals who believed these dysfunctions to be lifelong conditions have experienced a contrary outcome with ayahuasca. While an ayahuasca ceremony isn’t a substitute for seeking medical advice or treatment, I have witnessed instances where ayahuasca has contributed to the healing of stubborn dysfunctions that individuals have accepted as a part of themselves.
How Ayahuasca Affects the Mental Body
The mental body encompasses the realm of the mind, a powerful tool for organizing your reality. However, the mind is susceptible to wear and tear.
Thoughts, mentalities, and beliefs about the world and oneself originate from the mind. Limiting belief systems can hinder reaching your full potential, as the quality of your thoughts lays the foundation for your life experience.
Needless to say, the mind has a huge influence on well-being. When it’s not functioning optimally, it can contaminate your reality. Ayahuasca, in this context, accesses the roots of perception, resulting in a healthier outlook on life.
Deconstructing Outdated Programming
A potential benefit of ayahuasca lies in its potential to deprogram harmful beliefs and perceptions. During youth, we often absorb information without discernment, forming the foundations of our reality. This can result in a warped or disadvantageous perception of reality, and of ourselves.
For instance, an individual might have developed an aversion to strangers due to parental advice. They may have formed the belief that money is a scarce resource or that humanity is a lost cause, ultimately leading to a reduced quality of life. While these beliefs may have served a purpose at some point, they often become burdensome if not discarded.
Ayahuasca has the potential to bring awareness to our deeply held beliefs, providing an opportunity to replace them with healthier perspectives that enhance one’s life. This may include embracing the belief that change is exciting or recognizing everyone’s potential to experience abundance regardless of their circumstances.
Following a transformative ceremony, an individual chose to reconnect with his estranged father after a decade of avoiding contact. He revealed that during the ceremony, he gained a fresh perspective on the situation, leading to the dissolution of long-standing resentment.
Illuminating Limiting Belief Systems
One’s belief systems play a crucial role in navigating life experiences. Those with spiritual beliefs will likely have a different perspective than those who identify as atheists. These differing belief systems contribute to distinct understandings of mortality, morality, and principles for leading a happy life.
Some people who experienced ayahuasca reported a shift in specific belief systems, most notably the fear of change. They expressed being more at peace with life changes and that they no longer felt the associated anxiety.
Additionally, a common experience reported among individuals was a deepening of curiosity about life after death. Many described significant realizations and insights into their personal lives. It became evident to me through hearing these stories, that ayahuasca can help many individuals connect the dots and perceive certain events in their lives from a different perspective.
Changes to Your Self-Perception
During challenging times, it’s common to criticize oneself. Small mistakes can be magnified into perceived failures, leading to a diminished sense of self worth. This negative self-view can set life on a downward spiral, as our life experiences often mirror our internal landscape.
Feelings of self-worthlessness were common issues faced by individuals I supported during ceremonies. Many of them reported that ayahuasca illuminated the origins of this distorted self-perception. This awareness allowed them to begin empowering themselves and working on their self image.
The Emotional Body
Emotions serve as a powerful medium through which we experience life. The ups and downs, joy and despair, love and heartache are essential to prevent life from becoming mundane. However, life can also be brutal.
The emotional body represents your connection with feelings. A healthy emotional body means being in touch with feelings, allowing you to be in harmony with your emotions and experience the world in its full colors.
Many people have turned to ayahuasca when grappling with emotional issues like repressed anger and resentment. In many of these cases, ayahuasca illuminates healthier ways for people to experience and express their emotions.
Some individuals may realize the repercussions of bottling up their anger, prompting them to seek healthier outlets for expression. Others might correlate their lack of assertion with childhood experiences of walking on eggshells, leading to an understanding of the importance of speaking up and asserting oneself.
Ayahuasca, as a sacred medicine, is renowned for healing the emotional body, enabling individuals to feel the amazing spectrum of life. With that said, here are a few ways ayahuasca works on the emotional body.
Removing Emotional Baggage
In my experience, a common reason why people seek out ayahuasca is to release painful emotions linked to past experiences. I’ve seen individuals struggle to move on from past circumstances, then continue to suffer as a result.
Significant unaddressed past trauma can potentially lead to adverse physical and emotional effects. If the trauma remains unhealed, its manifestations often accumulate as emotional baggage, described by many as a weight or burden.
As highlighted in a HealthCentral article by Lisa M. Basile and Jessica Rodriguez, trauma can have lasting effects on both physical and mental health, leading to conditions like chronic autoimmune illness, heart disease, diabetes, and even cancer.
Within conventional medicine, symptoms are often addressed, but the root cause is not, prompting individuals to seek out traditional alternatives for a holistic approach to healing. Ayahuasca is renowned for helping people identify the root cause of their issues rather than alleviating symptoms, which can lead to genuine healing and growth.
Notably, I’ve worked with individuals who harbored long-standing resentment from childhood abuse, shame from childhood abandonment, and grief from past relationships. Some expressed feeling lighter after addressing the root cause of their pain during ayahuasca journeys, such as the fear of being alone. I witnessed significant transformations in individuals who claimed to have let go of the past by addressing the trauma associated with specific memories.
Clearing Deep-Rooted Trauma
The notion that one sitting with ayahuasca is equivalent to years of therapy attracts many seeking healing from trauma. In my time working with ayahuasca, I supported people who endured extremely traumatic events such as rape, physical abuse, and the loss of children. Some also grappled with war-related PTSD. Despite years of therapy and medication, many became disillusioned by these approaches, prompting them to explore every healing modality under the sun. For some, ayahuasca became a last resort.
Several individuals who suffered severe trauma reported turning a new leaf in their lives after engaging with the medicine. While ayahuasca cannot rid the pain associated with losing a loved one, those experiencing grief expressed feeling more at peace following a ceremony. A few even believed they had connected with their loved ones in spirit, providing closure.
If ayahuasca has a reputation for anything, it’s helping find light amid life’s tragedies. Needless to say, this isn’t always the case, and a single session may not be enough to facilitate deep healing on this scale. I have also witnessed cases where people became more disillusioned after taking ayahuasca, underscoring the importance of integration and support.
Removing Emotional Blockages
Many issues we face are manifestations of emotional blockages, which come in various forms and result in different emotional challenges. Essentially, a blockage prevents you from fully experiencing life.
Common blockages include struggles with love arising from issues with the heart, avoidance of intimacy and sexual expression due to sexual blockages, challenges in holding authority, and difficulties with self-expression, often leading to an inability to open up.
Past experiences can cause people to build an “emotional dam” as a protective mechanism. For instance, if you had an abusive partner, you might lose the spark for romance. If your parents scolded you for expressing certain needs or desires, you might find it challenging to express yourself later on in life.
In this sense, ayahuasca can act like a drain cleaner, restoring the flow. During ceremonies, individuals often experience the opening up of different parts of themselves and the resurrection of specific feelings that were long buried.
The Spiritual Body
Reality is like an onion, where what we perceive is but a tiny figment of an incomprehensibly grand system. Energetically, we’re always tethered to other dimensions of experience, and our consciousness is thoroughly rooted in them.
Like a tree growing from its roots, your life experience manifests from your soul nature. This is what your spiritual body signifies – your consciousness in its entirety. Your entire reality is a manifestation of your consciousness.
Ayahuasca affects the deepest layers of who you are because, in shamanic traditions, it’s not a drug, it’s not even a psychedelic. “Mother ayahuasca” is a spirit – a conscious, highly intelligent entity that exists within these higher dimensions.
With that said, we’re going to look into the spiritual component of ayahuasca and explore how this medicine can help people tap into their core nature to recreate their reality.
Seeding New Philosophies and Ways of Being
Ayahuasca can be a humbling experience that can allow an individual to step outside their body, mind, and emotions, exploring the deepest layers of self. This opens the door to a whole new world of possibilities, unseen through the clutter. While you will return to reality, what you experienced can never be forgotten.
Ayahuasca can plant new seeds, which if tended to, can flourish in many ways. It can guide individuals to cultivate new ways of understanding our place on this planet, fostering a deeper sense of meaning. Whether it imparts lessons on not taking life so seriously, unveils death as another chapter, or empowers us to become the creator of our life experiences, the insights gained have the potential to drastically improve the quality of our lives.
Cultivating a Deeper Connection with Spirit
Many turn to ayahuasca to help them find meaning in life, seeking answers to questions about who they truly are and why they’re here. The majority of people I’ve encountered sought spiritual exploration through ayahuasca, while others were drawn to it by a deep interest in the afterlife.
For many people who drink this medicine, it steers them toward a journey of discovery. They seek to understand the mysteries of their experiences, to comprehend why they’re here, and to distinguish truth from illusion.
This quest for understanding propels people further down the rabbit hole of self-discovery, nurturing a deeper connection with spirit. As a result, people who take ayahuasca typically open up to different modalities, bodies of information, and practices that they may not have been interested in before.
Although some believe that ayahuasca is solely a drug-induced experience, I found the majority of people who sit with the medicine are convinced that it’s a bridge to hidden realms of consciousness. Many people reported that ayahuasca reinforced their spiritual beliefs, while others stated the experience created spiritual beliefs.
This newfound path often creates a sense of peace in individuals’ lives, allowing them to ultimately recognize their true nature, as souls having a human experience – conjuring feelings of relief and inspiration.
Raising Your Vibration
Ayahuasca’s beauty lies in its capacity to help evolve us into our best selves while showing us the abundance of happiness accessible to all. After all, that’s what the journey is about – discovering the master within, who has an unlimited plethora of wisdom that can be tapped into.
With wisdom, one realizes that happiness is synonymous with love and that destructive behavior grows from suffering. Ayahuasca has the potential to help in recognizing these fundamental truths, significantly impacting well-being and happiness by steering individuals away from attitudes, beliefs, and feelings associated with suffering.
People commonly report increased gratitude after participating in an ayahuasca ceremony. In my own experience, ayahuasca helped shape a “glass half full” perspective, and many others reported feeling more optimistic afterwards. The medicine is often mentioned for its ability to alleviate the fear of death and the unknown, a common motivation for seeking it out.
However, ayahuasca can also cause unwanted effects, including retraumatization. One individual I supported felt existential dread following a retreat, and another reported frequent panic attacks in the months that followed. Feelings of disorientation or confusion after a ceremony underline the necessity of integration work.
These newfound outlooks must be actively maintained or the potential of reverting to old patterns is likely. Without the right support or motivation to follow through with newly developed attitudes, many individuals regress.
This illuminates the importance of seeking out proper support following an ayahuasca experience, especially during the delicate stages post-ceremony, before new outlooks and behaviors have settled.
Remember: Your Mileage May Vary
Ayahuasca is a powerful plant medicine, but it’s certainly not everyone’s cup of tea. While it can be blissful, it can also be vivid, intrusive, erratic, and extremely weird. I have had experiences where I felt deeply disconnected from my mind and body, thrust into an incomprehensibly complex and bizarre alien world. Without a thorough understanding of your mental ecosystem, it’s easy to see how the experience can overwhelm people, potentially causing more harm than good.
Given the multitude of factors involved, it’s important not to view ayahuasca as a miracle cure. I’ve met many who believed ayahuasca would do the work for them, only to be disappointed. Ayahuasca serves as an aid; the individual does the work. It may reveal what needs attention, but the effort to address those aspects is up to the individual. It might illuminate a better path, but you must then walk it.
The experience is not a walk in the park or an observation of pretty patterns. The healing process can be extremely difficult requiring a certain level of mental preparedness. It often involves vomiting, reliving trauma, and confronting one’s demons that some may be ill-prepared for.
Given the vulnerability during these experiences, finding a safe and reputable location to take the medicine is paramount. Sitting with shamans who don’t have your best intentions in mind is a potentially dangerous recipe that should be avoided at all costs.
Furthermore, it’s important to acknowledge that the experience is unique to every individual. Approach the medicine with an open mind, understanding that the experience is different from typical portrayals, and each experience is unique. While it may cause significant shifts in healing, it can also leave you confused or underwhelmed.
While there is a degree of consistency with many psychedelics, ayahuasca is a powerful medicine of its own, with results varying drastically. My best advice: don’t expect the medicine to automatically heal you. However, if you approach it with the best intentions, well-prepared to enter the darker chasms of your subconscious, it may change your life in ways you might never predict.
It was a cold, late afternoon in early January of 2022. I left my apartment as I had done countless times before. My destination was a church’s analytical lab, where I was involved in an ongoing psilocybin experiment.
Upon arriving at the warehouse, I parked my car in the familiar spot and headed into the lab. However, on this particular day, a strange feeling of impending doom crept up my spine as I approached the large roll-up door. Dismissing my intuition as an inconvenient interruption, I continued into the lab to work alone.
Inside, the deafening roar of the chemical-resistant fan that powered the fume hoods made it difficult to hear anything. But amid the noise, a destructive crash from somewhere in the building caught my attention. The sight of charred and mangled cars outside the warehouse did little to ease my growing concerns.
As darkness descended on the warehouse, I ventured toward the commotion. Frantic flashlight beams pierced through gaps in the large wooden roll-up doors leading to the loading bay. Through a small hole in the paneling, I witnessed a scene that sent shivers down my spine: heavily armed officers in bulletproof vests, armored helmets, and automatic weapons.
Disbelief washed over me as the officers repeatedly commanded me to open the doors. Still in shock and peering through the small hole in the paneling, I asked to see a search warrant. The response was swift and brutal, with the barrage of a battering ram shaking me from my stupor. As I was knocked to the floor along with shards of the door, the reality of the situation began to sink in.
I allowed the police inside, and the warehouse doors gradually rose to reveal a team of heavily armed officers in the loading bay. I was searched, cuffed, and placed face down on the hood of a police cruiser, surrounded by a fleet of police vehicles in the cold winter night.
Down the Rabbit Hole: How it All Began
As the cold settled into my chest, I reflected on everything that had led to this moment.
From an early age, I witnessed the tragic effects of addiction, compulsion, and mental affliction in my loved ones. This led me down a path of fascination with medicinal chemistry, introspective psychonautics, and the healing journey. I spent years immersed in laboratories, pushing the boundaries of my own limitations. But beneath my ambitions lay unprocessed trauma, and I was ultimately neglecting my own needs.
Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, I found connection with a community rooted in Kabbalistic Judaism. This diverse group (editor’s note: name withheld) embraced holistic practices, including holotropic breathwork, yoga, artistic expression, nature retreats, and guided ceremonies with psychedelic mushrooms as its sacrament. This religious nonprofit prioritized safety, with a doctor available at all times and thorough participant screening.
Recognizing the inherent variability in mushroom potency, the group sought to standardize their psilocybin sacrament. They launched an extensive cultivation and breeding project, and in the spring of 2021, I moved to Denver to support their efforts.
Over months, we transformed an empty warehouse into a 2,000-square-foot laboratory equipped with advanced analytical instruments. With chest freezers filled with freshly frozen, vacuum-packed psychedelic mushrooms, our goal was to extract, purify, and analyze the sacrament to determine its potency and enable consistent dosages.
Contributing to the safety of the congregation while delving into a subject close to my heart felt like a dream come true. My journey, marked by my biological father’s overdose, the study of Alexander Shulgin’s work, 18 months of immunosuppressive chemotherapy, and my near-participation in a MAPS clinical trial, had brought me full circle. I was now actively involved in a movement of compassion, community, and cooperation—a movement that offered solace and respite from the cruelties of modern life.
The Legal Conundrum
Despite my willingness to support the church’s mission, I hadn’t blindly walked into it. My legal counsel and the synagogue’s had cited multiple case precedents and interpretations of the law supporting the church’s actions as a legal and legitimate form of religious expression.
However, this thin veil of safety was torn apart as officers tore through the church’s facility, uncovering chest freezers filled with large frozen mushrooms. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing: my arrest for sacramental mushrooms that didn’t belong to me, at a publicly registered and openly advertised religious nonprofit, in an era where psilocybin mushrooms were gaining recognition for their potential medical benefits and safety compared to alcohol or cannabis.
Despite my disbelief, the fact remained: I was bent over the hood of a police cruiser in a lab coat, surrounded by bags of mushrooms in the dead of night.
In an act of desperation, I chose to cooperate with the police, explaining the mission of the church, the foundational practices of Kabbalistic Judaism, and the purpose of the church facility they had raided.
It took two hours to fully explain my circumstances on record, and I could sense that the investigating officers were shocked by my story. Even for seasoned narcotics detectives, arresting a professional chemist with kilograms of wet psychedelic mushrooms at an advanced laboratory operated by a nonprofit Jewish synagogue was far from ordinary.
After the interview, I was told that the officers would investigate my claims by verifying the existence of the church and its community of over 300 congregants. For now, I was placed on investigative hold and sent to the city jail. As I was transported, the officer driving the cruiser expressed interest in my religious beliefs and confessed a desire to try psychedelics. I couldn’t resist informing the officer that the synagogue welcomed all without prejudice, should they ever choose to attend a ceremony.
The Reality of Incarceration
Upon arrival at Denver City Jail, I was processed, screened for COVID-19, and kept in a temporary holding room until a prison cell was ready. My court hearing was scheduled for the following morning, with release expected later that day. I changed into the orange scrubs of an inmate under the watchful gaze of a corrections officer who snickered at my visible discomfort.
Not long after I climbed into the top bunk above a fellow inmate, a nurse arrived to administer Suboxone to the man below me. Unfortunately, the inmate hit his head on the metal bed frame, opening a bloody gash, which went unnoticed by the medical staff. After administering the dose, the nurse advised the inmate to stay in jail until the effects of the Suboxone had dissipated, and then promptly left him in a sleepy stupor. He was released from prison hours later, without his glasses or cellphone, potentially unaware of the overdose risk he faced if he decided to use opiates again.
Moments after the nurse’s departure, a small wad of discarded paper appeared from underneath the cell door. It was a note from an inmate in the adjacent cell who had overheard the nurse administering Suboxone. The inmate offered coffee, sugar, and other commissary treats in exchange for more Suboxone. Although I was given a mangled pen shaft to respond, I had to disappoint the inmate by explaining that the drugs weren’t mine to give in the first place, and they were already gone.
Despite what I’d been told, I was not released the following morning. Uncertain hours dragged into days as I languished in jail, unable to speak to anyone outside.
Despite the challenges of incarceration, I found an anchor in the flimsy pen shaft I’d been given my first night behind bars. Throughout sleepless nights, I covertly journaled my experiences in the margins of my intake paperwork, holding the makeshift pen and papers out of sight from the guards. I began to notice the details of my surroundings—the layers of stained paint on the cinder block walls, the rank, humid smell of suffering and shame in the air. Desperate for news, I asked for an update from a corrections officer delivering the evening meals, but received only laughter in response.
My dreams were haunted by vivid visions of a court trial, conviction, and sentencing. Yet, amid the nightmares, I experienced a spontaneous endogenous psychedelic dream state that offered a glimmer of hope and resilience.
Pretrial Observation
Finally, I was released. Over the days that followed, the fleeting relief I felt upon leaving prison quickly decayed into anxiety and agoraphobia. Loud noises, emergency vehicle sirens, and media depictions of police officers triggered episodes of post-traumatic stress. Despite years of applying various psychotherapeutic methods for my own healing, and weekly support from a therapist, I struggled to remain emotionally present and descended into a deeply dissociative depression.
As an accused felon under mandatory pretrial observation, I was unable to leave the state of Colorado without court approval and had to check in with the assigned pretrial officer after every court hearing. Any attempts to secure employment were thwarted by the glaring red flag of a level one drug felony on my background check. Career opportunities that had been secured months prior were abandoned in light of the investigation. Even driving for Lyft was no longer an option.
In this haze of rejection and persecution, I received the support of family and friends, notably my civil attorney, Robert Rush, who connected me with Sean McAllister, a well-known champion of psychedelic and social justice local to Denver. His confidence and thorough understanding of the law were critical to the ongoing court proceedings and gave solace to my shattered sense of security in the future.
Sean and I reviewed hundreds of pages of documents and photos from discovery over the next few months. Just weeks after the arrest, I was reading various reports from officers describing their firsthand experiences arresting, detaining, and interviewing me, along with my mugshot, fingerprints, and a full transcript of the phone calls I made from prison. Working through the crippling weight of anxiety and deeply triggering nature of reviewing evidence, I attempted to offer insights and interpretations that eventually became integral to our initial argument for full dismissal of the criminal charges.
Despite seemingly insurmountable support for a guilty verdict and the shame I had internalized through the trauma of these experiences, I held onto the conviction that this criminal accusation was merely a relic of vestigial legislation. The misinformation and outright lies seeded by prohibitionist narratives since the advent of the War on Drugs had blossomed into burgeoning tendrils of prejudice and ignorance that stemmed throughout the criminal justice system and ensnared countless victims in its thorny grip.
Following his involvement in the initial campaign for decriminalization, my attorney continued to fight for psychedelic access through his work with the Natural Medicine Health Act (NMHA). This new law sought to retroactively decriminalize personal possession, storage, use, processing, transport, obtainment, ingestion, cultivation, gifting, and ancillary support services for psilocybin mushrooms and other natural psychedelic medicines, and create a legal clinical system for patients to access therapies at licensed facilities, staffed by specialists trained to state specified standards.
In comparison to my legal conundrum, this new paradigm seemed like salvation. Despite my social anxiety and traumatic episodes of police-related paranoia, I attended several events in support of the NMHA and immersed myself in the local ecosystem of fellow psychedelic enthusiasts and professionals. Stark differences in opinion over decriminalization versus legalization and regulation divided the group into clear sides: those in support of the NMHA and those opposed.
With the prospect of my freedom hanging in the balance, I was deeply confused and saddened by this conflict. Completely unable to discuss the details of the ongoing investigation, I repressed impulses to share my struggle, instead opted to thoroughly review the language of the NMHA itself and network with the incredible individuals responsible for drafting and supporting it. The guidance and expertise offered by this group was invaluable during this vulnerable time. I was humbled to receive their presence in my life and gladly accepted an invitation to host an educational psychedelic mini-conference at my home. The event included numerous presentations, talks, demonstrations, and group exercises from expert members of the local community and conjured a feeling of much-needed camaraderie in light of the glaring uncertainty surrounding the approaching election.
Despite all my efforts and attempts to support the campaign, review case evidence, and secure a path through this upheaval, I ultimately had to surrender to a lack of control. I slowly allowed a fickle feeling of freedom within myself and began to engage in my own life with renewed interest.
On a serendipitous skate down the Cherry Creek Trail into Confluence Park, I ran into a representative of the NMHA collecting signatures for the law’s inclusion on the upcoming November ballot. As I happily offered my support, I reflected upon the potency of surrender and its demonstrated ability to align me with an opportunity to support progress for the future of psychedelics and my freedom.
The Road to Redemption
Notwithstanding the inspiring support offered by compassionate communities, gaining ground with the prosecution moved at a snail’s pace. Resistance to dismiss the case outright was inherent to their initial plea offer of a level three drug felony (DF3), requiring up to four years of imprisonment and fines up to $500,000. Besides litigating the case in court, the upcoming vote for the Natural Medicine Health Act appeared to be the only way towards resolution.
After submitting my ballot in support of the NMHA as early as possible, I hit the road to visit loved ones and explore the natural beauty of the country. Over the months leading up to the November 2022 elections, I surrendered to the sweeping landscapes of North America, crossing the distance between California and New York twice before the ballots were counted. No matter what the future held for me, I was determined to bring my fullest attention to the precious days I had left and enjoy the freedom and simplicity allowed by a life rich with companionship and catharsis.
By November, the NMHA passed, marking significant progress in the psychedelic movement. Still, the prosecution remained resistant to dismissal. I contemplated accepting a plea deal to avoid incarceration, but it felt like a conviction in itself.
My legal journey took an unexpected turn in mid-December 2022 when my attorney presented a compelling argument for dismissal based on the NMHA’s language. To my astonishment, all criminal charges against me were entirely dismissed.
Reflections on Freedom and Justice
The dismissal of my case highlighted a profound shift in societal values regarding psychedelics. However, I couldn’t help but think about the countless lives affected by the War on Drugs and the thin line between freedom and persecution. My own burdens included debt, missed career opportunities, and traumatic memories.
As Colorado prepared to draft guidelines for the psilocybin industry, I continued to struggle to recover seized property. While progress had been made, the burdens of prohibitionist policies continued – and continues – to threaten the lives and liberties of many Americans.
My journey from arrest to legal redemption was a rollercoaster ride through the complexities of drug laws, personal trauma, and the evolving landscape of psychedelics. While I found freedom in the dismissal of my case, the broader fight for justice and the responsible use of psychedelics is very far from over.
Do women respond differently to psychedelics than men? And, if so, how are their needs different when approaching these powerful substances?
While crucial research is still limited to help us understand how and why the psychedelic experience might vary vastly among genders, the rise of female-only retreats, clinical settings, and thoughtfully designed psychedelic products and services, are helping provide women safer, more inclusive, and empowering psychedelic experiences.
The Need to Focus on the Female Experience
In an article in MIT Technology Review focusing on women and psychedelics, Juan Pablo Cappello, co-founder and CEO of the ketamine therapy platform Nue Life said, “We started our company knowing that women over 40 are prescribed antidepressants at more than three to four times the rate of men, which has led to one in every five women taking an antidepressant to get through the day.”
Gender differences in the effects of psychedelics remain a topic of mixed evidence, necessitating further investigation. Nevertheless, gender-specific challenges persist. Safety concerns, childcare responsibilities, and the stigma linked to drug use are among women’s hurdles within the psychedelic landscape.
The redesign of healthcare services should prioritize women’s needs. Women frequently experience misdiagnosis and dismissive treatment from healthcare providers, emphasizing the urgency for a more attentive and responsive approach.
One aspect that merits attention is the potential impact of hormonal fluctuations on women’s psychedelic experiences. The menstrual cycle, pregnancy, and menopause can influence the subjective effects and therapeutic outcomes of psychedelics, underscoring the need for tailored research that considers these hormonal factors. Moreover, societal expectations and gender norms place pressure on women, shaping their experiences and interpretations of psychedelic encounters. The struggle to balance femininity, career, and family life can affect a woman’s sense of self and her ability to fully engage in the transformative potential of psychedelics. With psychedelics being non-specific amplifiers, the external setting, the internal set — the mindset and psychological preparedness of the individual — plays a pivotal role. Women may face self-doubt, fear of losing control, or concern about exposure to vulnerable emotions during psychedelic experiences. Carhart-Harris et al. have emphasized the importance of context, including internal barriers that could potentially hinder the therapeutic benefits of the journey.
Underrepresentation and Male Dominance
Historically, women have been underrepresented in clinical trials across various therapeutic areas, and psychedelics are no exception. For example, the term “inclusion of women” refers to the legal mandate outlined in the National Institutes of Health Revitalization Act of 1993, which requires the involvement of women as subjects in clinical research. This mandate applies to all clinical research funded by NIH unless it is deemed “inappropriate with respect to the health of the subjects,” “inappropriate with respect to the purpose of the research,” or “inappropriate under such other circumstances as the Director of NIH may designate.”
This gender bias limits our understanding of the specific effects, safety profiles, and therapeutic outcomes of psychedelics for women. The limited diversity among research participants has considerable implications for the generalizability and dissemination of treatments. Research suggests that women may exhibit different responses to psychedelics compared to men.
For example, a recent article examined the adverse effects of drugs targeting serotonin GPCRs in the CNS and PNS. These drugs interact with serotonin GPCRs in the brain and various peripheral areas, potentially causing side effects. Estrogen, which is more prevalent in women, influences serotonin synthesis and receptor densities, and drugs targeting serotonin GPCRs disrupt this process. The periodic increase in estrogen levels and the interference with the serotonin system mediated by estrogen could explain why women experience more adverse effects. Women also have lower serotonin concentrations and faster serotonin metabolism than men, which may contribute to the observed differences.
Biological factors, such as hormonal fluctuations, make research on women more complex and, therefore, more expensive. This highlights the necessity of considering gender as a factor in understanding the impact of psychedelics on mental health and well-being. Menstrual cycles, pregnancy, and menopause can influence the subjective effects and therapeutic outcomes of psychedelics. It is also worth consideration that many women experience disruptions in their menstrual cycles. According to the Kaiser Family Foundation in 2022, “most females ages 18-64 (90%) have used contraceptives at some point in their reproductive years, and most have used more than one contraceptive method throughout their lifetime (76%).”
Gender disparity extends beyond research and permeates psychedelic communities, retreat centers, and therapeutic settings. Women may experience subtle or overt forms of discrimination, objectification, or microaggressions, negatively impacting their sense of safety, trust, and overall well-being. Addressing these systemic issues requires a concerted effort to challenge and dismantle patriarchal structures, promote inclusivity, and amplify women’s voices within the psychedelic landscape.
The pharmaceutical industry’s growing interest in psychedelic therapy necessitates a deliberate focus on gender equality and inclusion. As psychedelics become more accepted by the mainstream, it’s essential to ensure that the creation, promotion, and delivery of psychedelic therapies take into account the specific needs of different genders. This entails promoting gender-balanced research teams, conducting gender-sensitive clinical trials, and tailoring interventions to address the diversity of the human species.
While exploring women’s experiences in the psychedelic space, it is also essential to recognize and acknowledge the intersectionality of gender. The experiences of non-binary individuals, as well as those who do not conform to traditional gender norms, deserve attention and inclusion in research and discourse. Non-binary individuals may face unique challenges in navigating psychedelic experiences as they navigate intersecting identities and societal expectations. Let’s foster an inclusive and respectful psychedelic community.
Research into Women’s Bodies
Today, there is limited psychedelic research on factors like drug metabolism, hormonal contraceptives, and womens’ unique physiological traits, hindering the development of tailored psychedelic guidelines and creating unique safety concerns for women who take psychedelics.
Variations in drug metabolism, potential interactions with hormonal contraceptives or reproductive health conditions, and other physiological factors may influence the safety and efficacy of psychedelic experiences for women. Though complex and expensive, funding research focused on women’s bodies and tailoring medicine accordingly will be a game changer.
Certain psychedelics have been associated with increased blood pressure and heart rate, potentially posing distinct implications for women compared to men due to physiological differences. The absence of adequate data raises obstacles in providing accurate information, guidelines, and risk assessments to support women in making informed decisions about psychedelic use.
Studies highlight the relationship between estrogen and serotonin 5-HT2A receptors. Classic psychedelics work by activating serotonin, and research indicates that estrogen enhances receptor density in brain areas governing mood, emotion, cognition, and behavior. This connection may offer insights into gender-based variations in conditions like schizophrenia and depression, more prevalent in women. Additionally, disruptions in estrogen during menopause could affect the 5-HT2A and brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF) signalling pathway, potentially predisposing the brain to depression.
The scarcity of research on women’s experiences using psychedelics to support the process of motherhood and postpartum care poses additional challenges. The limited research perpetuates the perception that psychedelics may pose additional risks to pregnant women or those breastfeeding. Without concrete evidence, caution is often prioritized, leading to a blanket discouragement of psychedelic use during these periods. While caution is essential, the absence of research leaves the potential benefits or risks associated with psychedelic use during pregnancy or breastfeeding unclear, further perpetuating uncertainty and fear.
To address these concerns, there is a need for studies that examine the physiological, psychological, and experiential aspects of psychedelic use in women. Such studies should take into consideration menstrual cycles (including those influenced by birth control), hormonal fluctuations, and reproductive health.
Societal Expectations of Femininity and Motherhood: Safety Concerns
The societal expectations tied to femininity and motherhood can significantly influence women engaging with psychedelics, similar to how men navigate their own situations and societal pressures. These norms shape our human experiences, create additional burdens, and contribute to safety concerns and stigma surrounding psychedelic use. Women may sense societal pressure to conform to traditional gender roles, limiting their willingness to explore psychedelic experiences. Fear of judgment and stigmatization, along with challenges reconciling maternal responsibilities, can constrain their ability to fully embrace the therapeutic potential of psychedelics.
Moreover, internalized notions of femininity can lead to self-doubt, fear of losing control, or concerns about expressing vulnerable emotions during psychedelic experiences. Women may grapple with the balance between societal expectations and personal growth, inhibiting their ability to surrender to the psychedelic experience.
Sexual Assault in Psychedelic Spaces
The issue of sexual assault in psychedelic spaces has garnered significant attention in recent years, with instances of misconduct and exploitation reported within the community. Such incidents harm individuals and contribute to the stigmatization and fear surrounding psychedelic compounds. These concerns further emphasize the importance of providing safe and supportive settings, prioritizing consent and boundaries, and promoting gender equality.
While psychedelics hold tremendous therapeutic potential, the occurrence of sexual assault within psychedelic spaces remains a disturbing reality. Addressing conscious consent, creating safe environments, and implementing policies to prevent and respond to assault are crucial steps in fostering a culture of safety and respect.
After movements like #MeToo, female-only spaces have become safe havens for women to explore psychedelic experiences without fearing male dominance and sexual assault. These spaces provide a supportive and empowering environment, allowing women to navigate their journeys free from the constraints of societal expectations and potential gender-based harm. Such spaces recognize the importance of reclaiming agency, voice, and autonomy for women within the psychedelic realm.
The Rise of Women-Only Retreats
Women-only retreats create a unique and transformative space for women to explore their inner worlds, cultivate deep connections with one another, and embark on journeys of self-discovery and healing. Such retreats provide a safe space where participants can fully embrace vulnerability. The absence of men often fosters an environment where women feel more comfortable sharing their deepest fears, hopes, and emotions. This sense of safety encourages authentic exploration and expression during psychedelic experiences, helping women ‘take up space’.
Women-only retreats tend to nurture a profound sense of sisterhood and community. The shared experiences, both during and between psychedelic sessions, can forge lasting bonds and connections. These connections often lead to a deep sense of belonging and support, facilitating sustained relationships beyond the retreat experience.
Women-only retreats also provide participants with the opportunity to explore and reclaim their narratives and identities. Many women join these retreats with experiences of societal and cultural expectations, traumas, and limitations. Psychedelic experiences within this supportive environment can pave the way for self-liberation, empowering women to redefine themselves and their place in the world on their own terms.
Many of these retreats often focus on the exploration and celebration of feminine energy and aspects of the self. This journey can be deeply healing, helping women reestablish a connection with their inner wisdom, intuition, and creativity. Additionally, it can foster a deeper appreciation for the unique strengths and qualities that women bring to the world.
Held frequently in natural settings, many women-only retreats incorporate rituals and ceremonies. Reconnecting with nature and participating in rituals can deepen the psychedelic experience, helping participants feel more in tune with the cycles of life and the natural world. This reconnection can be both spiritually and emotionally enriching, assisting many women in reconnecting with the cycles of their bodies.
In her role as a psychedelic facilitator, Jessika has witnessed women emerging from these retreats with a newfound sense of purpose, self-love, and empowerment. This unique quality of women-only retreats lies in their ability to provide a nurturing and transformative space where women can explore the depths of their psyche, connect profoundly with others, and emerge as stronger, more authentic versions of themselves.
Designing Just for Women
Innovating with women-centered design in mind calls for products and services to be designed for, with, and by women, based on their specific needs. It also requires clearly conveying and enforcing guidelines for respectful communication, boundaries, and consent throughout the process.
The world we live in has been shaped by designers, and it is noteworthy that the creative industry, responsible for much of this design, tends to be male-dominated.
The seatbelt serves as the most cited example of a product designed for men but commonly used by women for safety. Using crash test dummies based on average male sizes and weights has resulted in significant safety disparities for women, making them 73% more likely to be injured in a car accident. Beyond physical safety concerns, women face ongoing challenges related to everyday comfort and practicality. Consider the dilemma faced by pregnant women when deciding whether to position the seatbelt above or below their bellies. Another everyday example is the smartphone, tailored for the average male hand, and transforming into a cumbersome object in the grasp of the average woman.
Taking into account the significant impact of these design hurdles on women’s lives, it warrants a thoughtful approach to designing specifically for women in the context of mind-altering substances. Jemma Campbell, head of U.S. creative of Moving Brands, notes “It is very easy to think that design is aesthetics and aesthetics alone. Design is about much more than aesthetics – it’s about solving real-world problems and improving lives. When done right, it gives brands the ability to build connections with people much like human relationships.”
Focusing solely on aesthetics and neglecting research, strategy, and the overall product experience means you might project your own perspective, adopt codes rooted in learned behaviors and societal norms, and follow cues that may not lead to the best solutions.
“So, when it comes to creating women-only spaces for psychedelic treatment, when patients may feel vulnerable and exposed, we need to fully understand and reflect their unique needs and experiences. And that means women designers must not only be involved – they must be leading the vision,” Campbell says.
Key Considerations in Psychedelic Design for Women
Include More Female Designers, Scientists, Researchers, and Engineers
Women buy or influence 85% of all consumer purchases, control 73% of household spending, and make 69% of household health decisions. However, research consistently demonstrates that women are not satisfied with the product and service innovations offered to them. One possible reason: 85% of product designers and engineers are men. In areas like healthcare, where setting and environment are critical, designing with empathy is vital. It’s what makes having diverse design teams so important. Therefore, actively seek the involvement of more female designers, scientists, researchers, and engineers. Diverse teams bring a broader range of perspectives and insights, essential for understanding and meeting the unique needs and preferences of women consumers.
Listen and Learn
Cultivate a culture of inclusivity and diversity within design teams, fostering an environment where women from diverse backgrounds feel comfortable sharing their perspectives and experiences. Actively listen to their feedback, concerns, and ideas, and use this input to drive innovation and product development. Establish a safe and confidential space where women can share without judgment or fear of repercussions. Start small and build it organically.
Increase the representation of women in leadership positions and decision-making roles within design and engineering teams. When women have a seat at the table, they can advocate for designs and innovations that better resonate with female consumers.
User-Centered Design
Prioritize user-centered design principles, ensuring that products and experiences are designed with women in mind. Conduct thorough research to understand their needs, preferences, and pain points, involving women from diverse backgrounds and age groups. The experience doesn’t commence solely upon entering a clinic, retreat space, or product use; it begins with communication. For instance, inviting individuals to observe a retreat to ease them in or incorporating controlled microdosing to facilitate their entry could be part of designing the overall experience.
Collaboration
Collaborate with women’s organizations, advocacy groups, and female-focused communities to gain insights and build strong connections with potential users. These collaborations can lead to valuable co-creation opportunities.
In an ideal healthcare scenario, we envision truly bespoke care tailored to individual needs, irrespective of gender, becoming the norm. While acknowledging the historical challenges and potential future obstacles, we, as professionals, understand the complexities. Yet, as women, we recognize the oversight of subtle but crucial distinctions in female bodies and systems. The lingering patriarchal influence in Western research, product, and system development is a fact. We are now on the journey toward equal opportunities. Undertaking specialized research, embracing user-centered design, and holding space to heal past trauma, we hope to see a more inclusive and supportive psychedelic landscape, where everyone’s distinct needs and perspectives receive the recognition and respect they deserve.
Though psychedelics have been used for thousands of years, modern technology is beginning to teach us more – much more – about their effects on our minds and bodies. We caught up with Apollo Neuro co-founder and neuroscientist and board-certified psychiatrist, Dr. David Rabin, to learn more about how people are using wearables to gather new insights about their trips.
Alexa: For anyone who isn’t already aware, can you give us a high-level overview of what wearable tech is for, who might want to use it, and why?
David: I think of wearable technology as a powerful tool in our health toolkits to help combat the stresses of modern life, just like mindful practices like meditation, breathwork, and exercise. The wearable technology that we’ve developed at Apollo is safe for children and adults alike, so it’s really for anyone who feels they could use a tool to help them feel more safe, in control, and calm and experience better sleep, less stress, and a brighter mood. When we feel more secure, we’re able to fall asleep faster and stay asleep longer, focus more effectively, socialize more freely, and sustain energy throughout your daily tasks
Alexa: Can you explain the synergy between technology and psychedelic treatments in achieving better mental health outcomes?
David: Psychedelic-assisted therapy can be scary or intense for people, especially during their first time. Wearables can serve as a somatic anchor for both the patient and the therapist so they can stay in tune with their bodies. It helps the therapist to remain impartial on any difficulties or challenges that the patient may be experiencing, and it helps the patient to have a smoother journey.
To date, we have never had access to modern tools to help us solve these challenges that exist within and around the psychedelic experience. Today, the Apollo wearable is the only patented technology to reduce uncomfortable experiences associated with medicine-assisted therapy. So far the results from Apollo plus psychedelic-assisted therapy in the real world have been tremendous, including reducing anxiety in advance of medicine administration for easier drop in, reduction in ‘bad’ or uncomfortable trips, and improved ease of integration afterward. Apollo represents the very first example of how wearable technology can empower us to make healing with psychedelic and non-psychedelic techniques easier and more accessible for all.
Alexa: Can you share some examples of scientific research or studies that support the effectiveness of wearable tech and its combination with psychedelic therapies?
David: Currently, the Apollo Neuroscience Clinical Research Team is running an IRB-approved clinical trial with the support of the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS), a nonprofit sponsoring the most advanced clinical trials of a psychedelic-assisted therapy. The purpose of this study is to understand how the Apollo wearable touch therapy impacts long-term outcomes and improves integration following MDMA-assisted therapy in people with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Two large clinical trials evaluating the Apollo wearable in PTSD patients are currently underway and recruiting participants. The first is taking place at the Rocky Mountain VA in Denver, CO and the second, a nationwide trial, is evaluating the Apollo wearable to sustain remission from PTSD following MDMA-assisted therapy, described above. Anyone who has participated in a MAPS trial of MDMA-assisted therapy is eligible to join the MDMA-Apollo study and receive an Apollo wearable for the study.
We’ve seen tremendous results with the Apollo wearable in thousands of traumatized individuals and those who have participated in psychedelic-assisted therapy thus far. Some of the most promising responses were in people receiving ketamine-assisted therapy, particularly those new to psychedelic medicines or who have a lot of anxiety in anticipation of new experiences. We care about the outcomes, and anything we can do to help people stay in remission or feel better for longer periods of time is a big win for our field. We are very much looking forward to seeing how the Apollo wearable will contribute to the integration period following MDMA-assisted therapy.
Alexa: Have there been any clinical trials or user feedback demonstrating the positive impact on mental health?
David: The Apollo Neuro technology has been studied in over 1,700 research subjects in seven complete and 14 ongoing real-world and university clinical trials demonstrating very promising improvements in everything from sleep, pain, and fatigue to mood, anxiety, and focus. Ongoing studies of the Apollo technology include studies of PTSD, ADHD, and TBI, metastatic breast cancer pain, and severe autoimmune disorders.
Alexa: There are tons of wearable devices out there these days, could you share an overview about Apollo and how it’s different?? What specific features or technologies does Apollo employ to support mental health?
David: The Apollo wearable is different from other wearables as most wearables are trackers. They tell you what is going on with your health but leave it up to you to make decisions to improve it. The Apollo, on the other hand, actively improves your health through soothing vibrations that shift you out of “fight or flight” and into “rest and digest,” or a parasympathetic state. You can actively choose how you want to feel on the Apollo Neuro app on your phone – Focus, Social, or Unwind, for example – and the wearable plays vibrations that help to shift you into that state, much like the way certain songs pump you up or chill you out.
Alexa: What mental health benefits can users expect from your wearable technology on its own, and how does your wearable tech complement or enhance the effects of psychedelic therapies?
David: On average, users experience 40% less stress and feelings of anxiety, an 11% increase in heart rate variability (HRV), up to 25% more focus and concentration, and up to 19% more time in deep sleep. In an ongoing real-world sleep study, users get up to 30 more minutes of sleep a night. Less stress and feelings of anxiety is especially helpful in a psychedelic-assisted therapy setting, as well as an increase in HRV, as that is the biggest indicator of how well your body responds to stress.
Alexa: What does the future of this type of therapy look like? Do you collaborate with mental health professionals, therapists, or healthcare providers to integrate your technology into treatment plans?
David: The future of Apollo being used in this type of therapy is that it will be used by clinicians and patients in the office or treatment facility where medicine is administered, beginning in the waiting room or before arrival, to improve short term experiences. It will then be used, as it is today, by patients/clients after their experiences at home to improve clients engagement in treatment and enhance their outcomes from integration practices, which are the most important piece of treatment and often ignored.
Alexa: If a healthcare provider is interested in incorporating wearable tech into their practices, what is the process for going about that?
David: We work with hundreds of healthcare practitioners ranging from holistic health clinicians, centers for ADHD and autism, psychedelic assisted therapy clinics, trauma therapy practitioners, Chiropractors and more. Our goal is always to work hand in hand with them to tailor a program that meets the needs for their clinic and their patients. To learn more about partnership options with Apollo, Practitioners and Clinicians can reach our partnership team directly by filling out this form on our website.
Alexa: How do you see the intersection of technology and mental health evolving in the coming years? Are there plans for further advancements or updates to your technology to enhance its mental health benefits?
David: The future of mental health involves the convergence of technology, psychedelic techniques, and our current practices. As Apollo learns from people over time, it will personalize vibes for each individual user based on their needs at any given time today. This is already happening with Smartvibes for sleep, which is the first wearable technology AI collaboration to give us 30-60 minutes more sleep each night that is concentrated in deep and REM sleep, just by understanding our sleep signature and acting on it predictively to prevent unwanted middle-of-the-night wakeups. This will only get better over time!
Interested in trying the Apollo Neuro, or gifting it to a friend or loved one? Purchase through this link and save $50.
Amidst the fervent cries of psychedelic-centric victory heard around Colorado since the passing of the Natural Medicine Health Act (NMHA), it is important to remember those less publicized, less well-funded, and less white, human beings who continue to suffer and die from various manifestations of the War on Drugs – the same political ill that prevented access to “natural medicines” in the first place.
A malignant disease afflicting the collective body of culture, the War on Drugs is among the most horrific, anti-human disasters in the history of American policy. Lack of access to psychedelics is one symptom of this disease, but there are many others; including the opioid overdose epidemic, mass incarceration, the creation of Mexico’s narco-state, the militarization of police, the erosion of personal rights, and continued institutionalized racism. Like a very expensive band-aid triumphantly placed on the skinned knee cap of a dying person by self-congratulatory doctors, the NMHA does absolutely nothing to alleviate these most malignant symptoms of the disease that is the War on Drugs. In this way, the NMHA and other psychedelic-centric drug policies paradoxically represent the continuation of oppression more than its end.
Passed on November 8th, 2022 by Colorado voters through a ballot initiative, the NMHA brought immediate statewide decriminalization and pending legalization of certain “natural medicines” including psilocybin, DMT, mescaline, and iboga. Those unfamiliar with the details of the NMHA can read about them extensively here. As far as psychedelic policy goes, the NMHA is a reasonably cutting-edge development, merging both legalization and decriminalization models. But there is no such thing as a “psychedelic policy,” only drug policy.
Dr. Carl Hart, Columbia University’s Department of Psychology Chair, defines the problem succinctly as “psychedelic exceptionalism,” “the perspective that psychedelics are somehow better and more useful than other classes of drugs like opioids or stimulants.” This rampant false belief that psychedelics can be meaningfully separated from the larger drug policy conversation enables the generally privileged and up-power “psychedelic community” to ignore prohibition itself as the core societal disease while profiting from the treatment of a single symptom. Rather ironic, really.
Gazing through the glamor and capitalist speculation currently surrounding the psychedelic phenomenon reveals a more essential truth: Psychedelics are morally-neutral substances just like any other. Our inability to see this is our responsibility, but, in part, not our fault. America has a long-standing tradition of simplistic moralistic judgments around substances which began with the Women’s Christian Temperance Movement in the 1800s and continued through programs like D.A.R.E. Our cultural soil is deeply seeded with the idea of “good drugs” used by “good people” and “bad drugs” used by “bad people.”
After decades of wrestling with this tired old narrative, we’re finally managing to change it, but only along those same dualistic lines of thinking. By highlighting the positive effects of psychedelics, we have begun to politically pry some useful substances from the realm of “bad” drugs. The DEA is now considering releasing MDMA from its unscientific schedule I clutches while states legalize and decriminalize some psychedelics. This is the entire basis of the psychedelic renaissance. What has unfortunately not been considered is the problem with assigning a moralistic value to substances in the first place.In a compensatory over-swing of the flawed rhetorical pendulum, “psychedelic people” and their “medicines” are now coming to be seen as “good.” Such thinking leads predictably to unjust policy outcomes. This is, after all, the same fallacious logic that sparked the War on Drugs in the first place.
The categorical separation of “good” drugs and “bad” drugs is synonymous with the assignment of human beings into those same categories. The prevalence of this bias in the psychedelic space, implicit or explicit, betrays a deep lack of contextual awareness leading to oppressive behavior, which is contrary to the kind of societal-level healing that the movement claims to represent. Despite the political utility of rhetorically distancing psychedelics from other substances, our “natural medicines” are still ultimately “drugs” that must be considered within the larger context of American drug policy.
The Cultural Context of Psychedelics: A Brief Reminder of The War on Drugs
To triage the symptoms of prohibition, addressing each by their lethality, reveals a clear picture of the injustice inherent in a myopic focus on psychedelic-centric policy change. While it’s true that lack of access to psychedelics is preventing untold numbers of people from receiving helpful treatments for things like anxiety, depression, PTSD, addiction, etc., these kinds of maladies are collectively overshadowed by more immediately fatal symptoms of prohibition.
Itemizing the harms of the War on Drugs is something akin to sorting through the rubble of a war-torn metropolis while bombs are still falling – an extensively horrific task far exceeding the scope of this article. Two vignettes that partially describe the scope of destruction can be found in the interwoven phenomena of the opioid epidemic and mass incarceration; two direct symptoms of the War on Drugs.
The number of people who died from opioid overdose in 2022 was the equivalent of a 9/11 attack every 2 weeks, and rising in 2023. After September 11th, 2001, the U.S. reacted swiftly to pass a series of sweeping legislation, initiate new programs, and even go to war in Iraq and Afghanistan. Opioids clearly kill many times more people than terrorism ever has, but no such action is being taken. We won’t even mention the fact that opium production in Afghanistan was higher under U.S. control. The solutions to the opioid problem can be clearly found in harm reduction-based policies such as those implemented in Canada and Portugal. These policies stand on much firmer empirical ground than those arguments that drove our country to war in the Middle East, so where is the commiserate response?
We surveyed 130 current students and past graduates of our Vital program to create a snapshot of the emerging psychedelic workforce. Click here to learn more.
Throughout alcohol prohibition in the 1920s, simple logistical realities incentivized clandestine distillers to manufacture the strongest possible concentrate of their drug, and moonshine was born. It was both easier to conceal and more profitable per gallon than beer or lesser-proof spirits. Fentanyl is the same story. One pound of Fentanyl is as potent as nearly 50 pounds of heroin, and one pound of carfentanil is as potent as 100 pounds of heroin. Which is more likely to be smuggled across a border? The manufacture and indiscriminate distribution of the most lethal substances is not stopped by the War on Drugs, it is directly caused by it.
An article published in the Journal of Law, Medicine, & Ethics titled “We Can’t Go Cold Turkey: Why Suppressing Drug Markets Endangers Society” names U.S. drug policy itself as a “key accelerant that transformed this wave of addiction into an inferno of death, disease, and personal destruction.” It’s well known that a policy approach centering harm reduction and public health over criminal punishment greatly reduces overdose deaths. Yet, we continue to quietly tolerate more than a hundred thousand American deaths each recent year.
Overdose is only one of many dark manifestations of prohibition untouched by psychedelic-centric policies. The United States, the “land of the free,” only has 4% of the world’s overall population, yet holds 20% of the prison population. Of those people in U.S. prisons, 45% are there for nonviolent drug offenses. This means that nearly 10% of human beings in prison on planet Earth are imprisoned in the United States as non-violent victims of the War on Drugs.
The outcome of American drug policy is so horrifically maligned with the logicalgoals of such policies (public health & safety) that one can’t help but question the intentions of policymakers. Far from the realm of fringe conspiracy, we have seen institutional harm inflicted intentionally on substance users in the past. In the 1920s, the U.S. Government intentionally poisoned alcohol heading for the underground market, resulting in the death of at least 10,000 people. This action was justified using logic that claimed people who use drugs are bad, morally reprehensible humans – that same tired old trick of moral conflation. If the goal of the War on Drugs was to reduce drug use and create a safer society, then it has failed horribly. If the goal is to punish “bad” drug users in some of the most severe ways imaginable, then the War on Drugs has been a resounding success.
Through the lens of trauma-informed care, which invites us to see substance use as a result of trauma, the situation becomes downright sinister. A common American story might be told as such: A traumatized person turns to substances as a momentarily helpful coping mechanism. (Those with 4 or more Adverse Childhood Experiences are 1,350% more likely to abuse opiates than the general population). As a direct result of prohibition itself, the substances they find on the street are concentrated to the highest potency imaginable. There are few, if any, harm reduction or effective mental health services available. Instead, a militarized police force backed by an 80-billion-dollar prison industry is actively seeking to put this person in a cage – that is if they don’t overdose first. It is into this maelstrom that policies like the NMHA interject: “Legalize psychedelics!”
Why Only “Natural Medicines”?
A report from the Colorado Department of Public Safety on substance use trends does not even mention psilocybin or other psychedelics as relevant factors in state public health. The report does, however, describe an increase in fentanyl-related incidents including lethal overdose, explaining that 275,569 doses of fentanyl were seized in 2021. According to the Denver Open Data Crime Catalog, only 14 people were arrested for psychedelics in 2021, and 24 people in 2020. For opioid arrests in those same years, the numbers were much higher: 236 and 348 people respectively. The numbers were even higher for the worst outcomes, with an average of about 1,000 people dying every year in Colorado from an opioid overdose. In this way, psychedelics are not an immediately pressing issue from a law enforcement or public health perspective. So why do they continue to be the sole focus of organized and well-funded political efforts such as that which birthed the NMHA? Why has this particular symptom of prohibition received so much attention, funding, and policy action?
Interest Convergence: Suddenly The Privileged Care About Drug Policy
It’s an unfortunate truth that our beloved Renaissance and all of the psychedelic research and policy are predominantly reflective of white interests. One historian asserts that “psychedelic culture [is] dominated by privileged white men.” Indeed, a recent U.S.-based survey of over 41,000 people found that more than half of the white respondents had used psilocybin or LSD, “whereas less than one-quarter of Black [people] reported lifetime psilocybin use.” A relevant meta-analysis examining 18 studies on psychedelic-assisted therapy that occurred between 1993 and 2013 revealed that “82.3% of the participants were non-Hispanic white.” Psychedelic exceptionalism appears to have firm roots in institutional racism and white privilege.
As if by design, historically oppressed groups suffer and die from the War on Drugs at higher rates than white people. Though the recent intensification of overdose deaths allows a more clear view, we have seen these same kinds of disparities for decades with little attention given. Besides MAPS, which is perhaps the first pharmaceutical company in history to explicitly oppose the War on Drugs, there have been few for-profit organizations working to fight prohibition in any way. Now we see psychedelic ticker stocks, psychedelic venture capitalists, and psychedelic certificate programs all vehemently fronting the narrative of “healing” while functionally ignoring the collective disease that is the War on Drugs.
It seems institutional racism, the at-scale death of opioid users, and mass incarceration were not enough to attract the attention of the wealthy and powerful to drug policy. Only the promise of greater wealth has been sufficient to finally stir society’s biggest players into support of limited reform. Suddenly, every venture capitalist is a psychedelic advocate, but where are the drug policy advocates? After all, the only true difference between the heroin dealer and the “psychedelic entrepreneur” is that one is on a side of the culturally created narrative which happens to be favored at this particular moment in history. Tomar Pierson-Brown puts it succinctly in saying: “It’s not irony, it’s interest convergence.”
Join us for A Vital Journey: an 8-day breathwork retreat in Blue Osa, Costa Rica, January 6 – 13, 2024. Click here for more info.
Healing Without Harming: Anti-Oppressive Psychedelic Advocacy
Psychedelic modalities are without-argument desperately needed as accessible tools for front-line mental health professionals, but policy efforts focused on them exclusively are oppressive. Ibram Kendi, author of How to be an Antiracist, explains that “there is no such thing as not racist, there are either anti-racists or racists.” In this same way, drug policy is either anti-oppressive or oppressive. There is no in-between. Without applying this attitude, policy and organizational efforts within the psychedelic space are destined to become embodied examples of oppression.
Anti-oppressive approaches “minimize the effects of structural inequalities, social hierarchies, and power differentials.” As we have seen, psychedelic-centric policies like Colorado’s NMHA actually accentuate the power of the dominant groups and do absolutely nothing for the people suffering most from the War on Drugs. Drug policies like the NMHA neglect the most destructive aspects of the War on Drugs in favor of the more profitable, ‘sexy,’ and privilege-aligned substances (like psychedelics). These kinds of policies pander to the dominant culture while ignoring the core problem.
Fervent psychedelic purists (I know because I used to be one) will argue that making psychedelic healing widely available would lead to the amelioration of addiction. While this is true to a degree, it would not happen fast enough to meaningfully stem the tide of overdose deaths and is a backward way to approach the problem; like using nicotine patches to treat lung cancer.
Anti-oppressive psychedelic advocacy must necessarily include and prioritize an end to the War on Drugs as a whole, not just psychedelic legalization or decriminalization. The systemic situation that prevents access to psychedelics is the same that has created the overdose epidemic, mass incarceration, and a slew of other hugely destructive phenomena. It’s the War on Drugs and the disease of prohibition. As beneficiaries of recent drug policy changes, psychedelic institutions of all kinds have a clear responsibility to advocate for an end to the War on Drugs writ large. To ask “How can I make a psychedelic dollar?” without simultaneously asking “What can I do to help end the War on Drugs?” is unjust and tone-deaf. Only by directly addressing the core disease itself, and not just a single symptom, can we begin to truly heal as a culture.
The most culturally significant shift around psychedelics since the 1960s is currently underway. As promising research emerges, societal attitudes shift, and governments around the globe reform drug legislation, psychedelics are poised to radically change healthcare and wellness – forever.
In recent years, many individuals have chosen to pursue a new career – or adapt a current career or practice – to include psychedelics in some form. Specialized training programs like Vital are preparing professionals to enter or enrich the workforce with psychedelic awareness, and support the healing of the world in a time of an unprecedented global mental health crisis.
And as the world watches, many are asking what the future holds for this field, what access to psychedelics will look like, how services will be delivered, and by whom.
But currently, the data on the psychedelic workforce is limited. So over 2022 and 2023, 130 current psychedelic students and past graduates of the Vital program were surveyed to understand:
Who will populate the future psychedelic workforce
How diversity will be present within the field
How workers will be servicing clients, businesses, and communities
The results were analyzed and packaged into a new free report, titled The Emerging Psychedelic Workforce.*Scroll down to download*
Gain insights on the emerging psychedelic workforce in this 24-page special report. Download your complimentary copy below.
Note: While Psychedelics Today acknowledges this sample of respondents does not fully capture the global sum of those engaged in psychedelic work today – including many Indigenous, ceremonial, or underground contexts of psychedelic work – we propose the findings as a reasonable representation of the future global psychedelic workforce of trained individuals.
As a fully remote global training program with many scholarship recipients, underground acceptance, and no advanced licensure requirements, Vital’s student body is highly diverse, and populated by professionals who will service a broad spectrum of communities, in a wide variety of capacities – not limited to psychedelic facilitation.
We offer these findings as a predictive snapshot of the trained psychedelic workforce, who they are, their motivations, and how they will work in the field.
Sample Insights:
Working with Marginalized Groups: 81.4% plan to work or are working with unspecified marginalized groups. This points towards a broad understanding and intention to cater to diverse and often underserved communities.
Non-Facilitation Specialties: 50.4% are interested in working in areas beyond facilitation and therapy, including media, academia, biotech, cultivation, marketing, and finance, indicating the breadth and diversity of interest in the field.
Incorporating into an Existing Career: 47% of students are not switching careers. Instead, they are incorporating psychedelics and altered states into their current career for the first time. This might include therapists or holistic practitioners seeking to integrate these new tools and modalities into their practice.
Making Money Isn’t the Goal: A staggering 98.3% of respondents indicate that making a lot of money is not their primary motivation to enter the field.
Aware of Risks but Unconcerned: 63.6% acknowledge potential personal and professional risks of arrest, social, family, or license implications, but are undeterred and willing to work in the field regardless.
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Bogdan* is a 43-year-old asylee who lives in New York City. He has a Master’s degree from the University of Sussex. He used to live in student accommodation on the King’s Road near my old house in Brighton on the south coast of the UK, but he is currently homeless and living in what he calls a “ghetto.”
A series of highly traumatic ayahuascatrips with a famous ‘shaman’ led Bogdan to become seriously ill. It wasn’t helped by later trips with LSD and san pedro, either. Blighted by a debilitating mixture of chronic pain, anxiety, depression, and brain fog, he says he “feel[s] like a 100-year-old Alzheimer’s patient.” Bogdan suggests that successive traumas have left his central nervous system “fried.” He has no medical insurance, and so cannot pursue the Somatic Experiencing therapy people have encouraged him to try.
Bogdan did five sessions with ICEERS’ free integration service, but he doesn’t think “just talking with someone on Zoom will help” him. A cash handout from the local Eastern European community was helpful, yet it only lasted so long. One wonders how much processing his ‘stored trauma’ would alleviate living in a homeless shelter.
Or take Kristen*, a 39-year-old who participated in a Canadian clinical trial for psilocybin. In between each dose of psilocybin, Kristen developed debilitating spikes in anxiety that eventually manifested as a visual complaint, which in turn flowered into full-blown HPPD after two ‘therapeutic’ trips once the trial ended. What was driving Kristen spikes in anxiety? It wasn’t only the likely dysregulating effects of psilocybin’s serotonin dump. It was also significant financial stress. That didn’t just go away.
For those with severe HPPD, the visual presentation is so intense as to impair one’s ability to work. Reliance on scant welfare and disability benefits is not unheard of; I remember a phone call with one long standing HPPDer who was on the continual brink of homelessness for the destabilizing and disabling effects of his condition.
Possibly as many as 60% of homeless people have schizophrenia, and over half may have serious mental health problems. If we take seriously how dangerous psychedelics can be, these will be the outcomes. There will be many more people like Bogdan, Kristen, or those whose lives are destroyed by HPPD, increased anxiety, depression, or brain fog brought on from a challenging experience with no support, or simply the financial and life stress that continue on after even the greatest experience. Suicide is a tragic and occasional fact one cannot escape in HPPD communities – something that has been openly acknowledged by the late, great Roland Griffiths.
So what is the answer? As is hopefully becoming clear, ‘harm reduction’ is not just a matter of appropriate drug testing or set and setting and integration. It is a matter of having enough money to muffle a mental health crisis’ worst outcomes – to pay for help, stay housed, and stay healthy amid the stress and chaos that can follow a trip. Simply put, if we want to help those most affected by the challenges of psychedelic exploration, there may be a case for direct monetary transfers: giving people money to safeguard their material container.
A Cost of Living Crisis
There is a curious gap, a kind of Uncanny Valley, between our dreams of healing the ‘Mental Health Crisis’ with psychedelic mystical trips, while an arguably more primary Cost of Living Crisis is tearing apart people’s wallets. The association between anxiety, depression, addiction, and poverty is well known, and requires no elucidation. Even those who are not on the streets or actively facing homelessness in the future need money.
Have you looked at how expensive therapy is lately? $75-$150 a session is not viable for someone on a low income, so what could be a necessity becomes necessarily optional. It’s the same for gym memberships, exercise equipment, or good food and nutritional check-ups: all vital ingredients for good mental health and recovering from a psychedelic shockwave. The costs of therapy especially can add up while one shops around to find a suitable practitioner, or at least one who isn’t a weirdo – a genuine concern in psychedelic circles.
After an extremely destabilising LSD experience in September 2021 – whose sequelae included a deep depression, cannabis dependency, and suicidal ideation – I first tried a ‘psychedelic integration’ specialist based in Brighton. He wasn’t good. A couple of friends and I were wondering whether to do mescaline together, and I thought that might be a terrible idea. My ‘therapist’ urged me to wonder whether the second thoughts were perhaps the internalized voice of the “free market.” I burned through about £600 with this guy. I then burned through another £350 on another, thankfully more helpful therapist who gave me a discounted rate. It still amounted to £50 a session, or $60 USD.
Most people cannot afford to do this. And if they cannot afford to seek help while suicidal, they may die. We ought to consider the history lessons of psychiatric research. The ‘Decade of the Brain’ set in motion by President Bush in 1989 envisioned a future of revolutionary psychiatric treatments furnished by data from brain imaging and genetic research. This has not happened. Psychiatric outcomes have deteriorated. SSRI medications are of uncertain value relative to placebo and involve a staggering list of side-effects. Neurobiological markers have so far proved too wide and confounded to guide treatments – not least when our brains must exist in a world that’s crumbling.
“[W]hile we studied the risk factors for suicide, the death rate had climbed 33 percent. While we identified the neuroanatomy of addiction, overdose deaths had increased threefold,” Dr. Thomas Insel, the former Director of the National Institute of Mental Health, reflected in his 2021 book, Healing. “While we mapped the genes for schizophrenia, people with this disease were still chronically unemployed and dying twenty years early.”
In many ways, we already know what works: people need social support, housing, good therapeutic rapport, and food on the table. What will spell the difference for many people is the possession of resources that will enable them to reach for such low hanging fruit.
What Would a Harm Reduction Fund Look Like?
It is already well-known that the psychedelic movement is overwhelmingly middle- and upper-middle class and white, and has a particular representation among the aristocracy. The psychedelic movement is mainstreaming, though, and more people of color and low income are joining ranks of users. This means more people are at unnecessary risk, for lack of social and economic resources, of the worst outcomes of psychedelic drugs.
The psychedelic movement needs to own this risk, because the public sector and existing infrastructure probably won’t. As discussed above, welfare support is measly and the most vulnerable will be without medical insurance – if such packages would even cover the debilitations of drugs illegal in many parts of the United States. The Zendo Project, DanceSafe, and Fireside Project are laudable, but their applications for those struggling after their trips are limited.
It is often accepted that some proportion – usually dismissed as a merely ‘rare’ occurrence – of people will be greatly damaged by psychedelic drugs, and end up homeless, dead, or struggling with severe mental illness. What if we stopped accepting these as inevitable?
If we are really interested in harm reduction, one option may be a fund for those harmed by the effects of psychedelic drugs.
Suppose there was a fund of $500,000 – similar to the resources required in a study – which was focused on those facing suicide, homelessness, or mental health crisis after a trip. The details can be discussed and fleshed out by anyone who wants to take my proposal seriously, but it would simply provide bursaries, cash transfers, and much needed subsidies to people struggling in the wake of psychedelic journeys to seek help. Perhaps the effects of the help they seek can be recorded to collect data. Perhaps it could fund legal action against therapists and ‘Shamans’ that leave their clients in tatters, much as Bogdan is facing now. Such projects would likely mean saving or seriously changing dozens of lives. I welcome feedback on my loose suggestion.
Of course, there would be a risk of people ‘gaming’ the system, but I imagine its wastage would be comparable to a study, which has large opportunity costs in terms of the direct help such a fund could provide. Search costs would be invested to ensure the person is who they say they are: interviews, conversations with family members and friends, possible documentation. Different priorities would be made. Do we invest 80% of our budget for search costs on that 20% at the greatest risk of peril? Or ought we to prioritize creating free support in other ways, like expanding free therapies along the lines of ICEERS?Alternatively, as I suggest in a new article for Ecstatic Integration, immediate support could occur through peer support groups organized through Reddit, whose potential is, in many ways, untapped.
Certain challenges would no doubt arise through using private money, as well as exporting what should likely be a government task, such as through a Universal Basic Income – there’s a risk that some measure (number of people helped vs. number of dollars invested) would become a core indicator rather than real value provided. There’s likewise a risk that the kinds of interventions and support deemed worth subsidizing will fit with donors’ own biases, or that the pool of therapists deemed acceptable will be narrow and normative.
I would not be surprised if the data were relatively unsurprising. Income support and housing for those most debilitated would be a clear game changer. Free CBT, EMDR, Somatic Experiencing, Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, membership to a local gym that has a sauna and a pool, or full blood work to scan people’s nutritional deficiencies and inform a better diet would all likely help. These are relatively inexpensive interventions, but the marginal gains are probably enormous, and could be, at the very least, comparable to the hundreds of thousands raised to fund studies – which will not necessarily translate into interventions and treatments, nor with any particular immediacy.
The Psychedelic Movement and Owning the Risk
One may wonder if a post-psychedelic fund is arbitrary. All mental health problems, including but not limited to psychedelics, vary with poverty and access to resources. Why have a post-psychedelic fund and not one concerned with mental health in general? How can we ever separate the two? I suppose similar questions can be raised about the psychedelic sector on the positive end as well. Why the interest in psychedelics, when similar experiences can be engendered by other means like meditation – including with similar risks? To focus on post-psychedelic risk is likewise only repeating the same distinction already explicit in psychedelic risk management: that psychedelic trips can meaningfully create adverse outcomes even while connected to broader life concerns.
Even if this proposal doesn’t make sense to you, something needs to be done to address post-psychedelic harm. I believe we know more than enough to do something right away – and something specifically targeted towards those worst affected, for whom every dollar of subsidy and support reaps massive gains in social benefit – and saves lives.
These are new ideas, but let’s start the dialogue.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of sources profiled in this writing.
The mental health landscape is undergoing a sea change, in part, due to increased recognition of psychedelic-assisted therapy as a paradigm shift in the field. This new avenue for treatment offers a rare opportunity to address the root cause of trauma – all more quickly than usual approaches primarily oriented to symptoms. As this new territory unfolds, practitioners must navigate a unique set of possibilities and challenges.
Successfully integrating psychedelic-assisted therapy into practice can include:
– Building novel skills through training programs like Vital – Overcoming imposter syndrome – Successfully applying training theory in the real world – Adopting new integrative care workflows – Attracting enough new clients to sustain one’s business
So, where should you begin? As a practitioner, preparing for these challenges and opportunities holistically will set you up for deep client impact, and personal and professional fulfillment.
Psychedelic Therapy as a Bridge Between Modern and Traditional
Overall, modern and traditional medicine traditions diverge across several vectors; there is merit to both modern and traditional approaches, and tremendous value in enabling a complementary relationship between them. Though modern medicine is capable of performing miracles in treating illness, in practice, patients in a Western context primarily seek conventional healthcare when sick. Especially in the case of U.S. healthcare, the system’s design financially rewards providers when they treat illness or injury, not when they help build a healthy lifestyle. The concept of “health” in the West is generally limited to the physical body: whether one’s heart is beating in rhythm, musculature working harmoniously, and they’re free of observable illness. U.S. health insurance companies only started covering mental healthcare broadly 15 years ago – a striking proxy for mental health’s lagging priority – and still don’t do it adequately. At the same time, modern medical innovation is grounded in research data, and only canonized following randomized controlled trials (RCTs), the gold standard of medical research, which ensures conclusions are drawn without bias. The benefit of this approach is that it safeguards the medical field from interventions that are not safe or effective.
Traditional medicines from across the world usually represent a broader and more integrative approach, equally focused on balancing the mind, body, and spirit dimensions to achieve a whole-person health outcome for an individual and community. Functionally speaking this may mean building a mindfulness and embodiment practice, immersing yourself in community, and cultivating a deep relationship with nature and beyond. Harnessing practices that move energy effectively throughout your body can build tremendous resilience, equanimity, and aliveness, which can reflect quantitatively in biomarkers too. While traditional medicine generally lacks the evidence base assembled through RCTs, its many lineages and modalities have gained significant support in recent years, accelerated by a mental health epidemic and tremendous anecdotal impact.
Psychedelic therapy represents a unique bridge between these two worlds. It has descended from long lineages of Indigenous traditions across the world, but legal access in the West will be initially limited to substances approved by the FDA and delivered by clinicians with formal credentials. Whereas traditional talk therapy often centers on distinct sessions, the psychedelic integration process is a continuous therapeutic container, and often incorporates embodied practices like breathwork, yoga, journaling, and meditation, as core agents of change in between sessions where lasting transformation happens. Clients themselves are viewed as the agents of change, empowered to take full ownership of their own healing. The medicine serves as a potent catalyst for this evolution, and the psychedelic practitioner is a space-holder and champion for the client on their journey.
Addressing Imposter Syndrome Among New Practitioners
Given these differences, coupled with traditional rigors of embarking on a major professional change, it isn’t surprising that new practitioners often experience a sense of imposter syndrome. While methods of working through imposter syndrome are well-established, there are practical approaches which new psychedelic practitioners in particular can take.
First, participating in a peer community of diverse types of practitioners can help combat feelings of “stuckness” and isolation. The psychedelic therapy space attracts providers of different backgrounds, mindsets, and worldviews – but this can feel abstract unless providers have ongoing structured opportunities to collaborate as professionals. Peer groups that meet regularly, or broader digital communities (ideally both), can help validate thinking, enrich perspectives, and make the often solitary business of holding space more collaborative and fun. In many cases collaboration can be literal: providers with different specializations often establish referral relationships that prove to be in the best interest of a client. They can also cultivate supervisory or accountability relationships, and they can overcome initial logistical friction points, like feeling comfortable with setting appropriate payment rates.
Second, providers can create structure for ongoing client communication and measurement, helping them progress from intention setting to lasting transformation. This growth can be charted quantitatively, in the form of anxiety/depression scoring or practitioner’s own “homebrew” assessments, and qualitatively, in the form of collaboratively tracking and focusing on client progress milestones beyond their initial intention. In either case, observing client progress can give providers a sense of organization and confidence in attracting new clients in the future.
The Right Systems to Support Psychedelic Therapy Workflows
New providers stepping into this space may be frustrated with workflows that are not provider-centric and an abundance of outdated or unsupportive technology systems. A recent study by the National Council for Mental Wellbeing suggested that a third of the behavioral health workforce spends more time on admin than actually working with clients.There are many administrative functions necessary to support the modern practice: intake and scheduling, session note-taking, invoicing, and client communication, to name a few. When performed on separate systems, providers are forced to repeatedly context-switch, which depletes energy and pulls them away from their core mission: supporting client growth.
Beyond practice management’s traditional requirements, structuring the preparation and integration container across sessions may look different from traditional therapy workflows. A client’s integration work starts – it doesn’t stop – when a session with their provider ends. As such, many providers are meticulous about sharing and tracking recaps, and guidance and resources between sessions, which can include embodied practice recordings, podcasts or journaling prompts. Seasoned providers end up building out a library of resources to share with clients, as opposed to searching for them ad-hoc, but managing this ever-growing library and sharing via separate communication tools can be onerous.
Providers creating an on-going digital container often do so across multiple mediums (email, text, Whatsapp), which can quickly become disorganized and lose most of the context; this can lead to struggles maintaining momentum with clients if they’re forced to track down different conversation threads. For clients, provider resource sharing and communication is only as effective as it is utilized, and when spread across different surfaces, clients are less likely to engage in integration resources. On the other hand, using familiar communication channels often means co-locating client communications with personal messages across the chat apps and email. This can be tempting for ease of use, but over the long run proves hard to maintain when personal and professional lives start to bleed into one another.
Existing technologies, such as Electronic Medical Records (EMRs), unfortunately, have not evolved to support the modern client-centric dynamic so critical in this space. An EMR platform fulfills the primary capability of insurance billing and reimbursement, but even the most technologically innovative Patient Portals (the communication module of most EMRs) remain clunky, inflexible, and largely logistically-focused. They haven’t kept up with the rising modern client expectations for a simple, intuitive, and well-designed user experience they take for granted in other areas of their lives.
Attracting New Clients To Your Psychedelic Therapy Practice
We won’t bury the lede here: there is no magic bullet to building a meaningful client panel for your psychedelic-assisted therapy practice, but there are best practices you can follow. For those with the time and means, investing in an attractive website, paying for web traffic to your site, and optimizing how online searches are triaged to your site (SEO), can all be effective for growing your visibility and presence online. There’s also been a proliferation of online directories which can help generate leads, with varied success rates; there’s little downside to joining these, though from a client’s perspective it can be tough to differentiate among providers, and client routing can be opaque. Providers who anticipate a deluge of new clients should temper their expectations.
For psychedelic practitioners, client connection and trust is paramount, so successful providers often establish their own unique niche: a subset of the market with which they will uniquely resonate, and from which they will derive energy. Are you a sex therapist who does your best work helping divorced middle aged men re-discover their intimacy groove? Does your cultural heritage give you a unique perspective on de-colonization and working with intergenerational trauma? Whatever the case, expert providers own their narrative and unique perspective; it’s not bad to be clear and unapologetic in your messaging so that clients know exactly why they’re there. Counter-intuitively, loosely appealing to everyone typically means you’re not strongly appealing to anyone. Take a stance and communicate your message confidently.
Psychedelic providers can also generate client referrals by investing in peer communities of practice (which, consequently, also benefits from providers inhabiting a specific niche and specialization). In holistic circles, providers tend to create informal “constellations” of care in support of client transformation. Clients might benefit from working variously with a psychedelic therapist, a breathwork facilitator, and a yoga therapist (as an example) to hardwire new behaviors. Optimal client care is, in part, dependent on those providers building personal relationships, understanding each other’s unique approaches, and trusting each other’s work.
Modern Solutions for Modern Practitioner Challenges
Here’s where intuitive tech comes in. Yuriy Blokhin, Founder & CEO of Homecoming shares, “We built Homecoming with the goal of equipping providers who blend both mystical and medical traditions with the tools, content, and community to do their life’s best work. What if, we thought, we could create an all-in-one platform that streamlined into a single place what you need to get best client results with how you learn and grow as professionals?“
Working in direct collaboration with psychedelic practitioners, Homecoming brings all client communication together under one roof, and co-locates it with a customizable library for providers to have everything at their fingertips to support client integration and drive impact. Communications are flexibly sent from an intuitive web dashboard or practitioner mobile app to client’s preferred inbox, whether it’s SMS, email, or a dedicated client mobile app, while letting you see all your client conversations from a single view in Homecoming, so you never “lose the thread” of conversation and can present confidently and professionally. Administrative functions like session note-taking, scheduling, and invoicing, are integrated, so you can reduce time spent away from deep client work.
Holistic practitioners who work with Homecoming are constantly learning and growing through the adoption of new modalities and techniques, which inspired development of the Homecoming content ecosystem. Leading providers across the spectrum of mystical and medical traditions have curated resources for practitioners on Homecoming to discover and further curate their libraries, and are immediately able to share their new findings with clients. The provider community, embedded in the platform, is the ideal place to connect with peers, build professional relationships, and pressure-test new approaches. The vision, Homecoming says, is to build a collaborative network of practitioner factions across different healing traditions, and to serve as an educational bridge for all providers, to the benefit of clients everywhere.
Guiding the Way Forward
As the realm of psychedelic-assisted therapy continues to unfold, practitioners find themselves at the forefront of a transformative approach to healing. For providers to navigate this new paradigm requires them to anticipate and embrace the distinct demands of the field. This means not only developing expertise in this new modality itself, but building familiarity with adjacent holistic approaches, and preparing one’s mindset and systems for a new way of supporting client impact. Psychedelic medicine will never be a panacea, but preparing providers to thrive in this new landscape is an important step in a broader expansion of consciousness and reduction of suffering.
Australia recently achieved a world first, becoming the first country to officially recognise the medicinal and therapeutic uses of psilocybin and MDMA. While this change can seem like it’s come out of nowhere, it’s actually the result of the explosion of activity around psychedelics in Australia over the past decade. Only a short time ago, we were under the radar. Now, we’ll likely be one of the first countries where patients can receive psychedelic-assisted therapy without being part of a clinical trial.
So, whether you’re currently in Australia, or just thinking of moving here, a career in psychedelics is suddenly more of a possibility. If you’re thinking of pursuing this path in Australia, there’s lots you need to know to navigate psychedelics here. What is or isn’t legal? Who are the critical nonprofits and corporations? Which universities are pursuing psychedelic research?
Where are Psychedelics Legal in Australia?
The short answer: Nowhere, except in minimal circumstances.
In most cases, classic serotonergic psychedelics are classified in the Poisons Standard as Schedule 9 – Prohibited Substances by the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA). Ketamine slides into Schedule 8 – Controlled Substances, due to its extensive medical applications, though it’s worth noting that using it to treat depression is still considered “off-label” here. This off-label use is technically legal, but a 2015 controversy over clinics that allegedly skimped on psychiatric supervision and sent patients home to self-inject their ketamine doses has led to relatively few psychiatrists offering this service.
In February, the TGA announced that psilocybin and MDMA will be added to Schedule 8, permitting their use as Controlled Drugs, but only allowed to be prescribed by specialist psychiatrists under the following conditions: they must have approval from a Human Research Ethics Committee (HREC), and they must be authorized by the TGA under the Authorised Prescriber Scheme to prescribe the substances for these conditions.
Psilocybin will be permitted only for treatment-resistant depression (TRD) and MDMA will be permitted only for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
This means that the therapeutic use of MDMA and psilocybin will remain illegal, unless it’s occurring under the specific circumstances the TGA decision describes. For all other uses, they will remain in Schedule 9 (Prohibited Substances). Therapy using other psychedelics such as LSD, mescaline or novel analogues will remain strictly limited to research trials.
The importation of psychedelics is tightly controlled and only allowed for approved legal research. A range of federal laws for serious drug offenses carry significant custodial sentences. For example, being convicted of trafficking or importing a “marketable quantity” (250 grams – 2 kilograms) of N,N‑Diethyltryptamine (DMT) can result in a maximum penalty of 25 years imprisonment and/or a fine of around $1.11 million AUD.
Most day-to-day drug law is dealt with at the state/territory level in Australia, which generally reflects federal scheduling. This means using, possessing, growing, manufacturing, and selling psychedelics is generally illegal. The one exception is found within the Australian Capital Territory (ACT), which recently decriminalized possession of small amounts of most drugs, including most common psychedelics. This doesn’t override federal law, and the federal government could seek to resolve any conflict in the High Court, but are unlikely to in the short term.
Australian Psychedelic Organizations
If you want to be across the breadth of psychedelic activity and experience in Australia, you need to start with the organizations in the field: Understanding who they are, how they relate to each other, and what communities they connect with is essential to navigating psychedelics here.
Psychedelic Charities & Nonprofits
Australian Psychedelic Society
Founded in Melbourne in 2017, the Australian Psychedelic Society is a grassroots and community-led not-for-profit. Through events such as picnics, film screenings, integration circles, and workshops, they aim to provide connection, education, and harm-reduction information relevant to psychedelic communities. The Australian Psychedelic Society also advocates for drug law reform, including decriminalization, recently putting their case to the federal Joint Committee on Law Enforcement and planning a range of advocacy activities centered around upcoming elections.
Entheogenesis Australis (EGA)
Entheogenesis Australis is a charity using education to help grow the Australian ethnobotanical community and its gardens. EGA hosts various events around entheogenic and psychoactive plant and fungal medicines, most notably the biennial EGA Symposiums, now known as Garden States. Since 2003, they’ve been encouraging knowledge-sharing on botanical research, conservation, medicinal plants, arts, and culture. Attending EGA events is the most effective (and fun) way to connect with the key individuals and organizations in the field here.
Mind Medicine Australia
Mind Medicine Australia (known, somewhat confusingly, as MMA) is a charity founded to support clinical research and work towards regulatory-approved and evidence-based psychedelic-assisted therapies. Mind Medicine Australia doesn’t advocate for the recreational or non-clinical use of psychedelics. Nor do they advocate for any changes to the law concerning non-clinical use, including decriminalization.
Through their for-profit subsidiary, Mind Medicine Institute, MMA supplies what was, until recently, Australia’s only training program around psychedelics, the Certificate in Psychedelic Assisted Therapies (CPAT).
Psychae Institute
The newest kid on the block, Psychae is a not-for-profit organization dedicated to developing new psychedelic therapies as approved medical treatments for mental disorders and other diseases, as well as supporting psychological well-being.
Psychedelic research in Science and Medicine (PRISM)
Psychedelic Research in Science & Medicine (PRISM) is a charity established in 2011 to undertake and support research into the applications of medicinal psychedelics and related therapies. Currently Australia’s leading psychedelic research organization, they partnered with Dr. Margaret Ross at the St Vincent’s Hospital, Melbourne, for an end-of-life psilocybin trial, and are presently involved with Australia’s first MDMA trial.
Australian Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Practitioners
The Australian Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Practitioners (AMAPP) was formed in 2023 to be Australia’s peak body for psychedelic-assisted therapy (PAT). AMAPP is working to provide a framework for the safe, ethical, accountable, and effective introduction of PAT, focusing on achieving the best client outcomes. They are also working towards a searchable and verified register of credentialed psychedelic practitioners.
Psychedelic Companies
New psychedelic-related companies and businesses are emerging in Australia every day. This is just a selection of some of the better-known ones.
Enosis Therapeutics
Through their Virtual Reality Psychedelic Psychotherapy (VRPP) protocol, Enosis aims to help therapists guide patients through all stages of their psychedelic healing journeys. Preliminary results suggest that their bespoke VR scenarios are a positive addition to the psychedelic-assisted therapy process, with hopes that these will be confirmed by future clinical trials.
Little Green Pharma
Perth-based Little Green Pharma is a cannabis company that’s recently moved into the psychedelic space, announcing in late 2021 that it had received a license from the Western Australian Department of Health to grow psilocybe mushrooms and supply psilocybin for researchers in Australia. It’s also pursuing psilocybin research through its subsidiary, Reset Mind Sciences.
Pyslo
Using computational chemistry, Psylo is focused on developing next-generation therapeutic psychedelics, including short-acting and sub-perceptual substances. Partnering with UNSW and the CSIRO and having attracted considerable funding, this company is one to watch.
Psychedelic Institute Australia
Psychedelic Institute Australia (PIA) is a new organization whose mission is to offer the highest quality psychedelic-assisted therapy training and education to therapists and clinicians in Australia. PIA was founded by a team that includes some of Australia’s foremost psychedelic researchers and clinicians, and aims to use their experience working in psychedelic clinical trials to provide theoretical and practical training for practitioners at varying levels of knowledge & development.
Australian Psychedelic Research
A few years ago, there were barely a handful of psychedelic researchers at universities here. Australia was characterized as “falling behind” international psychedelic research. Now, it would be easier to list the places that don’t have some involvement in psychedelic research.
Notable university researchers include: Dr. Stephen Bright at Edith Cowan University, who is running our first MDMA trial and is founding member of PRISM; Dr. Paul Liknaitzky at Monash University, who is leading investigations into using psilocybin for Generalized Anxiety Disorder and involved in numerous other research projects around the efficacy of MDMA for PTSD; Dr. Vince Polito at Macquarie University who is probably our foremost microdosing researcher and has recently finished a longitudinal study of microdosing psilocybin for mild/moderate depression; and Dr. Monica Barratt at RMIT/NDARC, whose research explores the social and public health implications of digital technologies for people who use illicit and emerging psychoactive drugs.
Those are just the researchers who have a public profile and a longer history of engaging in research that’s directly related to psychedelics or psychedelic communities. In the past 2-3 years, many established psychology or psychiatry researchers around the country have quietly turned their attention to psychedelics, and are now engaging more publicly through high profile publications, large projects, or the formation of research centers. Examples of this are Swinburne University’s upcoming randomized controlled trial of psilocybin-assisted psychotherapy, led by Professor Susan Rossell, and the University of Melbourne’s formation of its Medicinal Psychedelics Research Network (MPRN).
Searching the Australian New Zealand Clinical Trials Registry for psychedelic-focussed clinical trials that are currently recruiting does not produce a huge number of results, but what is listed is illuminating, with hospitals playing a key role in these investigations across diverse areas including tolerability studies of Field Trip’s FT-104 molecule and a pilot study into psilocybin-facilitated treatment for methamphetamine use disorder.
How can I take part in psychedelic research in Australia?
Organizations and researchers are great, but they’re not the beating heart of psychedelics in Australia. That would be the people and communities who use psychedelics, and many people involved in above-ground psychedelic activities are also long-time & active members of underground communities.
What Psychedelics are common in Australia?
While psychedelic use in Australia is relatively rare, it is on a steep upward trend. In 2019, 10.4% of the population had used psychedelics in their lifetime, and 1.6% had used psychedelics in the past year. That 1.6% might not sound like much, but that’s up from 1% in 2016!
The 2019 National Household Drug Survey found that the most used psychedelic in Australia is LSD, followed by psilocybin mushrooms, DMT, and mescaline. Official surveys don’t get into fine detail, but anecdotally, there’s a bit more nuance. Mushroom use splits somewhat geographically, with Psilocybe cubensis being more common in warmer areas than the native P.subaeruginosa. DMT is used as vaporized crystal, smoked as Changa, or imbibed in local Ayahuasca analogs, with Acacia often replacing Chacruna leaves as the DMT component. Peyote is rarely used, with San Pedro (Trichocereus pachanoi) or Bolivian Torch (Trichocereus brigesii) cactus being the most common sources of mescaline.
Sure, but what’s the scene really like?
It’s hard to generalize what psychedelic use and communities are like here. Many psychonauts are growing obscure plants and pursuing arcane knowledge, loosely bound by social media and the occasional camping trip, bush doof, or picnic in a local botanic garden. For the uninitiated, bush doofs are outdoor dance parties that emerged in Australia in the 90s and have become a significant part of the country’s alternative subculture. Typically held in remote areas of the bush, these events are often characterized by an eclectic mix of electronic music (especially psytrance), psychedelic art, and drug use. From humble and unsanctioned beginnings, the doof is now often incarnated as large outdoor multi-day dance festivals such as Rainbow Serpent and remains a cornerstone of the enduring relationship between psychedelics, rave culture, and music.
Compared to a few years ago, many more people are aware of the potential benefits of psychedelics. So, there’s a sense that this isn’t a wholly countercultural thing anymore. Anyone you meet could use or be interested in psychedelics – you never know!
People are facilitating psychedelic experiences all over the country (more, in my opinion, than there used to be.) This can be one-on-one or in groups. Many of these facilitators and guides have extensive experience and skill in serving and holding space for the people in their care. It could be smoother sailing, though. Allegations of facilitators having inappropriate relationships with ceremony participants or following unsafe dosing practices (e.g., dosing people with MDMA too soon after Ayahuasca, thus risking serotonin toxicity) are not uncommon. While most of these alleged incidents never make it to court, a Queensland man has been charged with the sexual assault of four women who had participated in his “spiritual healing” Ayahuasca ceremonies.
Community concerns around ethics and standards of care have driven engagement with international efforts such as the Ethical Psychedelic International Community (EPIC). EPIC is a group of ethicists, facilitators, and community organizers who are dedicated to creating safe and ethical psychedelic spaces, specializing in supporting and advising individuals, communities, and organizations within the psychedelic and plant medicine world who are navigating challenging ethical situations. The same concerns independently led to local community members founding the Psychedelically Aware Talking Circle Hub (PATCH.) PATCH is a space that supports people who’ve experienced harm in psychedelic contexts, and aims to leverage community discussions of harm minimisation to produce processes and resources that will allow communities to address issues around safety and ethics as they arise.
Regardless of setting, and whoever they’re with, lots of people are using psychedelics and want to talk about their experiences. There is high demand for both community-led integration circles and professional integration therapy.
The Future of Psychedelics in Australia
Where we go from here is difficult to predict. Australia has taken the first step towards clinical access for psychedelic-assisted therapy. How widespread and accessible will this be? That depends on patient advocates overcoming the conservative stance of the TGA, health officials, politicians, and the psychiatric establishment.
It’s pleasant to imagine that acceptance of therapeutic psychedelics will lead to broader legal reform, as medical cannabis has in much of the US. But our medical cannabis system here is much more restrictive and heavily regulated. Every single patient who is prescribed cannabis is processed through a federally administered access scheme and there are no legal walk-in dispensaries. Doctors and cannabis companies aren’t even supposed to advertise their services or products (though they regularly bend these laws.) We’ve technically had medical cannabis since 2016, and there is little indication that this will automatically lead to adult recreational legalization.
The situation isn’t all doom and gloom, though. The number of people aware of psychedelics and their potential has grown astronomically in recent years. The number of people who have had psychedelic experiences has grown just as rapidly. So, I hope we can expect political and regulatory progress to follow the social changes we’re currently experiencing.
My prediction is that non-clinical psychedelic access will be community-based, with more nonprofit psychedelic social clubs rather than neon-lit dispensaries. The medical use of psychedelics will evolve but remain heavily regulated until the medical model itself changes.
Whatever happens, there has never been a more exciting time to be involved in psychedelics in Australia.
Have you been considering getting involved in the burgeoning psychedelic field in Australia? Spaces in Navigating Psychedelics for Clinicians and Wellness Practitioners: Australia are open for registration until Sept. 25. Don’t miss out on your chance to make history in Australia and enter a new paradigm of mental healthcare. Seats are limited – register here.
Throughout history, mankind has been drawn to the profound realm of mystical experiences. Psychedelics have long been used to generate these experiences. Recent research suggests that when psychedelics are used to treat illnesses such as depression, addiction, or end-of-life anxiety in relation to cancer and other terminal illnesses, people who have mystical experiences during the treatment session have more positive outcomes.
Mystical experiences were fundamental to man’s religious experience in both the East and the West. They have informed speculations about the true nature of reality. The psychedelic space has been guided by the wisdom of Indigenous peoples, and central to their journey is the embracing of the mystical as used by shamans and healers.
Understanding mystical experiences can be approached in two ways:
1.Naturalistic Approach: Using science and logic to understand the inherent laws by which the universe runs. This approach might be taken by those who see the nature of the world as explainable by cause and effect relating to the laws of science.
2. Transcendent Approach: Based on the assumption of a universe run by a higher intelligence and not subject to inherent laws. A transcendental approach may be seen to be more compatible with religion and spirituality.
Core Features of the Mystical Experience
Much of the basis for this discussion of what is traditionally considered the core features of the mystical experience, comes from philosopher Walter Stace’s work Mysticism and Philosophy and philosopher and psychologist William James’ The Varieties of Religious Experience.
The core features of a mystical experience include:
1. A Non-Ordinary State of Consciousness
A non-ordinary state of consciousness is profoundly different from the ordinary, mundane everyday experience. It generates a sense of timelessness and a loosening of the sense of relatedness to the outside world occurs — a blurring of what’s inside and what’s outside. There can be a loss of one’s sense of self — ego dissolution or ego death are commonly used terms to describe this.
Mystical experiences can occur in religious as well as non-religious circumstances, coming unbidden in the midst of everyday life. They can happen as a part of meditation, as a result of practices such as sensory deprivation, holotropic breathwork, and of course as a result of taking psychedelics.
Mystical experiences may also occur in moments of deep intimacy in relations between two people. For instance, as might take place in a psychotherapy relationship during a session. The psychoanalyst Alice Bar Ness has discussed the possibility that a mutually occurring mystical experience might be generated by the therapist and client in a psychoanalytic therapy. Recognizing this type of experience can be of great value in therapy.
2. Feeling of Connectedness
One core feature of the mystical experience has been described as that of an interconnectedness between all persons and things in the universe. Feelings of beneficence and love often but not always predominate. There is often a feeling of a deep connection to nature. In a more religious context, there can be a sense of connectedness with God or with some aspect of the Divine. William James described it as “becoming one with the Absolute.” Stace describes this form of “looking outward through the senses” as an extrovertive mystical experience.
An introvertive mystical experience, on the other hand, occurs when one looks inward, into the mind. Rather than becoming one with all that is out in the world, mystical unity occurs as a dissolution of one’s sense of personal identity. This can result in what has been described as a ‘pure consciousness experience’ in which there are no longer thoughts, memories or perceptions but yet one is still somehow aware. This state is a common goal of eastern religious meditative experience.
Mystical experiences, often described as ineffable, reflect a reality that transcends words and logic. As per William James, they are deeply emotional and cannot be transferred, and must be experienced directly. They can’t be put into words and communicated to another. Both transcendent and naturalistic viewpoints acknowledge ineffability as a crucial part of the mystical experience and despite being indescribable, humans naturally seek to express these profound emotions, leading to the creation of myth, poetry, and art.
4. Transformative Revelation
People having had these experiences have a sense of having received a deep and transformative knowledge about the most profound nature of reality. As James said, “They are states of insight into depths of truth unplumbed by the discursive intellect. They are illuminations, revelations, full of significance and importance…” The term used to describe this type of knowledge is noetic. It is important to understand the idea that the received knowledge is not obtained by use of the rational intellect or by logical thinking. Noesis rather involves a sudden, intuitive flash of insight, a revelation about the deepest truth. This is a consistent feature of some Eastern traditions—Zen ‘satori’ being one example and of course revelation is an integral feature of Abrahamic religion.
5. Paradox
Mystical experiences often entail paradox, situations where opposing statements both appear to be true and yet exclusive of one another. As an example, consider, as discussed above, that mystical experience can involve receiving a deep and transformative knowledge as a result of an encounter with the Absolute (which is paradoxically said to be ‘beyond knowing‘). Contemplation of paradox is a common feature of Eastern tradition. The Zen koan is an example.
Some Naturalistic Approaches to Understanding the Mystical State
1. Depth Psychology
Traditionally, psychology has used a naturalistic approach in trying to understand mystical experience. This field is notably associated with Sigmund Freud and psychoanalysis, despite Freud’s denial of the mystical. Depth psychology explores the relationship between the conscious and unconscious mind. Speculation about the nature of the unconscious goes back well before modern-day psychology and has been addressed by every human civilization both East and West. Psychoanalysis is one form of depth psychology. It is, of course, notably associated with Sigmund Freud although, in most of his work, he denied the significance of the mystical.
The connection between mystical experience and psychoanalysis, both from a theoretical and clinical standpoint has however, been fruitfully taken up by some modern psychoanalytic thinkers.
There are a group of psychoanalysts known as the psychoanalytic mystics. One of the most prominent is Michael Eigen who regards the mystical process as a model for psychotherapeutic change.
Eigen and others have looked at traditional psychoanalytic concepts through the lens of mystical tradition. One such concept is the idea of very early infantile experience with the mother as a fundamental cause of the development of the ‘self’.
Some conceive of the infant’s experience at this stage of development of the self as including states of blissful union with the mother during nursing, alternating with feelings of terror and rage when hungry or cold or alone and then again blissful union when again cuddled and fed.
Disagreeing with early psychoanalysts who pathologize mystical experience as regression, Eigen sees these early, ‘primordial’ experiences of consciousness of self as an equivalent of the mystical experience per se.
This description of the infant’s experience has been seen by Eigen and others as “the prototype of the death-and-rebirth process.”Eigen correlates this with the recurrent mythical theme of death and rebirth as described by for example Joseph Campbell.
Alice Bar Ness has used Martin Buber’s concept of the I-Thou relationship as a basis for the idea that both therapist and client might undergo a mystical experience during a psychotherapy session. Buber considered the I-Thou relationship as a deep, meaningful experience occurring between two people such as might occur in a person’s experience of the divine. These experiences can be ineffable, noetic and transformative and so can be considered mystical. They can be utilized to great advantage in a psychedelic therapy setting where the material which arises during these moments of mystical communion can resonate with the client’s experiences which might have arisen while in the psychedelic state.
2. The Jungian Perspective
The psychedelic space has made much reference to Carl Jung’s theories, notably his concept of archetypes. There are differing views as to the exact nature of archetypes however, they are commonly seen as symbolic representations of biological instincts manifest as images occurring in dreams and fantasies. Jungian James Hillman described these images as having autonomous personalities. His descriptions seem at times similar to the often-described psychedelic entities encountered during DMT experiences.
3. Neuroscience and Cognitive Psychology
The relationship between the mind and the brain has long been discussed by philosophers and theologians. Neuroscience and cognitive psychology have tried to answer this question, also termed as “the hard problem” – can mind function be reduced to neural activity? Seen through the lens of naturalism, it has been taken up by neuroscience and cognitive psychology using modern technology.
Neuroscientists, using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), can generate images of changing brain activity during meditation and after dosing with a psychedelic substance. Cognitive science has developed a series of psychometric tools such as the Mystical Experience Questionnaire which, using mystical experience criteria as outlined by Walter Stace, can reliably determine the occurrence of these experiences in subjects involving studies of psychedelics and meditation.
Research on the neural correlates of the mystical experience explores the effect of psychedelics and meditation on neural networks in the brain. Neural networks are webs of neurons which carry out specific, information processing functions. Individual networks can be widespread or ‘large-scale’, that is, a connection between groups of neurons located within the brain at a longer distance from each other. Networks can also be more localized or ‘small-scale’, consisting of interconnected neurons which are spatially adjacent. The often-mentioned default mode network is an example of a large-scale network. Other large-scale networks include the salience network and the dorsal attention network. Together, neural networks interact in complex ways to create our experience of the world including one’s sense of self as well as the boundaries of this self. Psychedelics break down existing connectivity within both local and large-scale networks and increase connectivity between networks not previously connected.
As a result of these changes, the brain is able to respond to stimuli in a more diverse and adaptable way. This translates into the distinctive sensory and cognitive phenomena commonly described during the psychedelic experience and may result in loss of sense of self and of one’s place in time and space – all elements of the mystical experience.
A Transcendental Approach to Understanding the Mystical State
Some Jungians and the transpersonal movement view the mystical experience as arising from higher states of consciousness and spiritual realms, not explainable by using rational, scientific concepts. In this view, “reality consists of multiple levels which mirror each other” in some way, commonly referred to as “correspondence.” Connections between these multiple levels are animated by a universal force which underlies the cosmos, also referred to as cosmic consciousness.
Correspondence between ‘multiple levels of reality’ gives rise to the idea that the universe or heavens (macrocosm) is reflected in the essential makeup of the human being (microcosm). Furthermore, this connection may influence interactions between different levels of reality. These concepts can be used to explain the core experiences and underlying nature of the mystical experiences. Additionally, they provide a “theoretical basis for astrology, alchemy and magic.”
These concepts can be illustrated by examples from the Western Esoteric tradition. For instance, the German mystic Jacob Boehme [1575-1624] describes the key to wisdom about God comes about by “looking within one’s self-consciousness, gazing upon, knowing and feeling all that formerly was [conceived of] as beyond.” Here, the mystical experience arises when contemplating the existence of the divine within – a connection between the macrocosm and the microcosm. This can be considered a form of interoceptive mystical experience.
The writer and composer Hildegard of Bingen [1098–1179] wrote about her mystical visions throughout her life. She described a vision in which “my soul rises up high into the vault of heaven and into the changing sky and spreads itself out among different peoples, although they are far away from me in distant lands and places.”. Here is an example of exteroceptive mystical experience.
The Jewish mystic Abraham Abulafia developed a form of meditation involving repetitive utterance of Hebrew letters signifying the divine names of God. This enabled him to enter a higher state of consciousness in which souls “return to their origin which is one without duality… towards the original unity.”
Carl Jung’s [1875-1961] mystical visions are described at length in Memories, Dreams, and Reflections and in The Red Book. While Jung’s work can be seen naturalistically and transcendentally, his personal experiences are considered to be of a transcendent nature. In fact, Jung himself considered his writings to be of a transcendent nature.
A better understanding of the mystical experience can be beneficial to the psychedelic space. While the two approaches discussed here may appear to be fundamentally incompatible, they both offer valuable insights and can complement each other.
Psychoanalysis has much to offer when seen through the lens of mysticism but also in a more straightforward consideration of its basic theory and clinical practice. As an example, psychoanalysis has long considered the problem of boundary crossings and violations as they occur in the analytic relationship. This has significant relevance to attempts at harm reduction in psychedelic therapy.
Finally, the examples of transcendent experiences are taken from writings that are part of the Western Esoteric tradition. A greater understanding of the history of these traditions as related to mystical experience would greatly benefit the psychedelic community.
Neuroplasticity, a term that has quickly become a buzzword in the psychedelic space and beyond, refers to the brain’s ability to reorganize itself by forming new neural connections or altering existing ones. Although it’s at its highest during early childhood, neuroplasticity persists throughout life and is central to our ability to learn from our experiences, adapt to new environments, and heal from our injuries.
Studies have consistently found that psychedelics significantly amplify neuroplasticity, thereby acting as potential catalysts for lasting changes in neural circuitry and behavior.
Recently, striking findings published in Nature have shed further light on the pro-plasticity effects of psychedelics. In brief, this study – led by Dr. Romain Nardou within the lab of Dr. Gul Dolen at Johns Hopkins University – revealed that psychedelics can re-open plasticity in certain parts of the brain in a manner that’s usually only possible in the first couple months after birth. In scientific terms, psychedelics were found to open the “social reward learning critical period”. This is a highly significant finding, with huge implications for the therapeutic mechanisms of psychedelics. Let’s dive into what this all really means.
What are Critical Periods?
In order to understand the significance of opening a critical period, we need to know what a critical period is. In a nutshell, a critical period is a window of time during the development of the brain where it’s extremely receptive to specific kinds of environmental stimuli. That is, it’s a period of time in which being exposed to certain stimuli is critical for proper brain development. The development of different functions in our brains – whether it’s vision, sense of touch, or our social tendencies – have different, but typically overlapping, critical periods. During a given critical period, experiences can have a lasting – and typically irreversible – impact on particular neural circuits and, consequently, certain aspects of our perception, thinking, and/or behavior.
Some notable examples come from the classical experiments conducted by the neuroscientists (and, later, Nobel laureates) David Hubel and Torsten Wiesel in the 1950s/60s on the development of the visual system in cats. In some ethically questionable experiments, they investigated how controlling the types of visual inputs a cat receives during early development impacts their vision perception throughout their lifetime. In particular, they raised newborn cats in a completely enclosed room where all they ever saw were vertical lines. Researchers found if this was done during a particular period of time (the critical period) the cats never developed the ability to see horizontal lines. These cats would consistently walk right into objects that featured horizontal surfaces, such as tables, and no amount of horizontal line exposure after the critical period allowed them to see horizontal lines. This illustrates how experiences that occur during a critical period early in development can lead to lasting changes in neural circuitry throughout the lifespan.
Critical Period Reopening with Psychedelics
In the Nature study with psychedelics, the researchers assessed a different kind of critical period, this time in rodents, pertaining to the ability to learn social rewards. This type of learning is assessed using the Social Conditioned Place Preference (SCPP) paradigm. SCPP is a way to measure a rodent’s natural preference for a location that has been previously associated with social interactions. In this paradigm, the rodent is placed in a cage that features two distinct rooms, and they are only exposed to social interactions with other rodent friends in one of the rooms. After this exposure, researchers put the rodent into the cage by itself and assess the proportion of time it chooses to spend in the room that they had social interactions in, relative to the one where they were always alone.
Social reward learning, therefore, refers to the extent to which an animal is able to learn to associate a specific environment with the rewarding aspects of social engagement. Interestingly, research has found that this ability is at its highest at around 20-50 days after birth in rodents, after which it steeply drops off and becomes negligible. In other words, there is a clear critical period during which positive social engagement is necessary for rodents to learn that social environments are desirable to seek out.
As you might be anticipating by now, the Nature study found that psychedelics – including the serotonergic psychedelics psilocybin and LSD, the atypical psychedelic ibogaine, and the quasi-psychedelics ketamine and MDMA – all have the capacity to reopen this social reward learning critical period in adult mice. In fact, they restored social reward learning to an extent that matched or went beyond the maximum that occurred during their critical period.
In addition, they intriguingly found that the duration of this reopening was proportional to the length of the drug’s acute subjective effects in humans. For instance, ketamine-induced reopening only lasted for 48 hours, while it was two and three weeks for psilocybin and LSD, respectively. Ibogaine-induced critical period reopening was found to last the longest, at four weeks. For the neuropharmacology nerds out there, this raises interesting questions on how the lasting neurobiological effects of these drugs may be fine-tuned based on their pharmacokinetic and pharmacodynamic properties. It also has clear implications for psychedelic psychotherapy and optimal integration practices – which we will get to in a moment. Before that, there’s one more finding from this study worth highlighting.
In particular, the researchers found that this critical period reopening was mediated by increases in a specific kind of neuroplasticity called ‘metaplasticity’. Metaplasticity refers to the general ability for the brain to neuroplastically mold itself – it’s essentially the “plasticity of plasticity”. It can be contrasted with “hyperplasticity”, which refers to the targeted changes in specific sets of connections between neurons (as opposed to a generalized increased ability to do so). The study specifically found that restoring oxytocin-mediated plasticity in the reward system of the brain – in a region called the nucleus accumbens – mediated the observed re-opening. What this suggests is that psychedelics may, in certain brain regions, remove the “brakes” on adult neuroplasticity, thereby inducing a neuroplastic state similar to early childhood. As such, during the psychedelic experience, and in the days and weeks immediately after, we may have a unique ability to make deep changes to our neural circuitry and tendencies in thought and action – to an extent that was not available since childhood.
Implications for Psychedelic-Assisted Psychotherapy
The ability of psychedelics to reopen social critical periods and induce metaplastic changes has profound implications for psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy. It provides a neurobiological framework that could help explain the long-lasting therapeutic effects observed in the treatment of disorders such as depression and PTSD. It highlights that re-learning positive social associations may be a core part of therapy – an idea consistent with recent work highlighting how the quality of the therapist-client relationship is a core mediator of positive outcomes. It also underscores the importance of community-embedment and the quality of one’s interpersonal relationships following a psychedelic journey.
Moreover, the finding of increased metaplasticity provides direct neurobiological support for the importance of psychotherapy and other interventions following a psychedelic journey. This is because metaplasticity might allow the brain to be more able to mold itself in response to such interventions. Strictly speaking though, this remains speculative, since we do not know whether these metaplastic changes extend beyond social reward learning specifically. However, we are very much in the early stages of this research and there is so much yet to be studied and discovered.
The ability of psychedelics to reopen social critical periods and induce metaplasticity offers a compelling avenue for future research and therapeutic applications. These findings could revolutionize our understanding of how psychedelics work at a neural level and how they can be effectively incorporated into psychotherapeutic frameworks. As we continue to decipher their intricate and multifaceted neurobiological mechanisms, the horizon looks promising for the application of psychedelics in treating a wide range of psychiatric disorders.
Have you been thinking about where your next trip might take you? Why not make it a journey within?
Psychedelic retreats are the ultimate working vacation: a chance to unwind, connect with the earth, and to devote time to what’s truly most important – your well-being.
Here are a few ways psychedelics retreats can help people create meaningful changes in their lives:
Enhanced self-awareness: Retreat participants often come out with new insights about their behaviors, thought patterns, relationships, and past experiences.
Trauma healing: when delivered in a supportive container, retreats can help people process and overcome trauma.
Ego dissolution: the erosion of the ego during a powerful psychedelic experience can lead to a greater sense of unity with others and the universe, as well as a reduction in the feelings of separation or isolation.
Connection with nature: Many retreats are in natural settings, which can amplify the sense of connection to the natural world.
Sense of meaning and purpose: Some people come away from psychedelic retreats with a renewed sense of purpose or understanding of their place in the world.
Breaking addictive patterns: Preliminary studies, especially with substances like psilocybin and ayahuasca, have indicated potential in breaking addictive behaviors, including smoking and alcohol dependence.
Professional guidance: Psychedelic retreats usually provide experienced guides or facilitators who help participants navigate their experiences, making it safer and more therapeutic than using psychedelics without guidance.
Structured setting: The set (mindset) and setting (environment) play crucial roles in influencing the nature of a psychedelic experience. Retreats offer a structured, safe, and supportive environment which can lead to more positive and therapeutic outcomes.
Community: Sharing experiences with others in a retreat setting can create a sense of community and understanding. It can be therapeutic to process experiences with others who have gone through similar journeys.
Integration: Many retreats emphasize not just the psychedelic experience itself but the importance of integrating the insights and revelations into daily life. This can lead to lasting personal growth and transformation.
But how should you choose what kind of retreat is right for you? Domestic or international? Would you prefer to start with breathwork, or dive right into a psychedelic substance? Would it be better for you to share accommodations or have solo time in a private room? There can be a lot of options to choose from, and when it comes to retreats, no one size fits all.
That’s why we’ve created opportunities for our community to experience some of the most transformative in-person retreats on the planet, and anyone who feels called is welcome to join us. Here’s everything you need to know at-a-glance to choose the best retreat for you:
Netherlands: Psilocybin – Sept. 6 – 11, 2023
Journey highlights/what’s included: – 7 days/6 nights accommodation at Land van Yemaya – 1 psychedelic journey as journeyer / 1 psychedelic journey as sitter – 1 on 1 consultations with a facilitator before, during, and after the retreat – Preparation & Integration (2 group calls, support manuals) – Daily somatic practices – Self-inquiry and creative integration workshops – Unique soundscapes for the journey – Nourishing vegan meals – Holistic practices including yoga, movement, somatic & sound work, art, and embodiment practices – Shuttle from Amsterdam to the venue and back
What’s not included: – All flights – Any transportation outside of the scheduled group transportation – Travel insurance
Tuition: – $3,750 – $4,050 USD w/ shared and private room options – $45 Euros (for truffles to be purchased on arrival)
Journey highlights/what’s included: – 6 days/5 nights accommodation at Atman Retreat in Montego Bay – A psilocybin journey with a dose tailored to your intentions, preferences, and experience – The opportunity to practice holding space for another member of your training group while they journey – Comprehensive preparation and integration – Group movement and meditation – Abundant indoor and outdoor space at a beachfront villa, access to private beach and swimming pool – Transport to and from Montego Bay International Airport
What’s not included: – All flights – Any transportation outside of the scheduled group transportation – Travel insurance
Tuition: – $1,495 to $4,695 w/ comfortable accommodations including camping, quad, triple, double, and single room options.
Learn more and register here. (For Sept. 20 – 25 retreat) Learn more and register here. (For Sept. 27 – Oct. 3 retreat)
Journey highlights/what’s included: – 7 days/6 nights accommodation at Monte de Orada – 4 Transpersonal Breathwork sessions (two as a breather, two as a sitter) – 3 fresh, vegan, farm-to-table meals/day – Access to walking trails, the biopool, floating on the irrigation canal, and the sauna – Daily yoga, intuitive movement, and CrossFit practices – Free wifi – Group airport transfer from LIS (around 2 hrs.) – Taxes and gratuities
What’s not included: – All flights (R/T flight to LIS) – Any transportation outside of the scheduled group transport option – Optional massage treatments available on request – Travel insurance (We recommend World Nomads)
Tuition: – $2,700- $4,500 w/dorm, quad, triple, double, and single options
Costa Rica: Transpersonal Breathwork – Jan. 6 – 13, 2024
Journey Highlights/what’s included: – 8 days/7 nights accommodations at Blue Osa – 4 Transpersonal Breathwork sessions (two as a breather, two as a sitter) – 3 fresh, farm-to-table meals/day – $50 gift certificate to the luxurious Blue Osa Spa – Gorgeous chemical-free pool – Access to miles of secluded jungle beach – Daily yoga, Intuitive movement and CrossFit practices – Free wifi and internet access – Group airport transfer from PJM to Blue Osa (around 30 min.) – Taxes and gratuities
What’s not included: – All flights (R/T flight SJO and R/T flight from SJO to PIM) – Spa treatments – Optional adventures on free days – Travel insurance
Tuition: $3,325- $4,900 w/ triple, double, and King Deluxe options
Are you feeling called to invest in yourself? We can’t wait to journey with you on an upcoming retreat. Need more info? Connect with us at info@psychedelicstoday.com.
Neurology physician Dr. Burton Tabaac’s interest in psychedelics began almost by accident. He happened upon the topic through a 2019 presentation during his fellowship training at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine – and may not have pursued a dedicated interest in the field if he hadn’t attended.
“… In four years of medical school and four years of residency training, psychedelics were not mentioned – not even once as part of a comprehensive allopathic education,” Tabaac told Psychedelics Today.
The Hopkins lecture inspired the physician down a non-typical path for those in his profession: research on the therapeutic potential of psychedelics in treating mental health diseases. Today, he explores psychedelics beyond their traditional association with mental health. Entities inclusive of Parkinson’s disease, dementia, stroke, and traumatic brain injury are of particular intrigue with potential for psychedelics to promote healing, Tabaac shares.
Exploring Psychedelics’ Versatility
In his recently appointed role for the Mckenna Academy of Natural Philosophy, founded by Dennis McKenna, Dr. Tabaac serves as an advisor for educational pursuits and evidence-based methodology. Through this collaboration, he is dedicated to investigating the possible role of psychedelics beyond their use in the mental health realm, and is passionate about exploring whether these substances could help with functional neurological and neurodegenerative diseases.
“There are specific indications that I feel warrant additional study and funding to assess and discover,” he says. “There has already been a lot of research and literature published dedicated to psychedelics for treating depression, anxiety, addiction and PTSD; I’m very eager to partner in pushing the frontier further to investigate what else psychedelics may have the potential to address.”
In the current landscape of psychedelic research, this alliance highlights the evolving role of physicians stepping beyond traditional methods to investigate alternative solutions. The demand for more research signifies a promising future for psychedelic research, with the potential of extending the possibilities of these substances in treating various conditions.
Obstacles to Holistic Approaches
In the healthcare world, it isn’t uncommon to find that many doctors tend to favor Western medicine while overlooking holistic approaches. Doctors don’t typically embrace integrative routes, because the current medical system is guided primarily by evidence-based research, Tabaac says. Treatments typically require strong evidence of their efficacy before they are widely adopted, which doesn’t bode well for most federally scheduled psychedelics in relative nascent stages of research.
“I also think that having psychedelics as a restricted Schedule I class of drugs prohibits a lot of providers from even being able to offer these therapeutics off-label,” he says. “When you look at where the medical/legal field is heading, there’s a lot of promise with the Phase 3 trial that MAPS has presented demonstrating the potential for MDMA to treat PTSD.”
PTSD patients in the MAPS study received three doses of MDMA, supplemented with psychotherapy. The trial results yielded 50 per cent of participants no longer meeting the criteria for PTSD. One year later, without any additional MDMA doses, the number of patients no longer meeting the criteria increased to 70 per cent, “showing that there is some underlying effect on the brain that is sustainable,” Tabaac said.
The MAPS study highlights the transformative impact that psychedelics – combined with psychotherapy – can have on mental health disorders like PTSD, Tabaac says. As more research emerges, it is expected that the medical community will gradually embrace these alternative treatments and integrate them into mainstream healthcare, ultimately empowering physicians to treat patients with greater efficacy and enriching the field of allopathic medicine.
The Power of Virtual Community for Doctors
Back in December 2021, Tabaac stumbled across the Psychedelics Anonymous(PA)platform, a web3 community that shared his enthusiasm for the potential of NFTs to bridge communities of like minded individuals. PA offers a secure environment where members can connect without revealing their identities, utilizing avatars to engage in discussions about psychedelics, and exchange personal or professional experiences.
Membership in Psychedelics Anonymous brought with it additional perks, Tabaac said, offering access to educational opportunities such as a plant medicine course at Cornell and participation in the recent Psychedelic Science 2023 conference in Denver. The project has also established a podcast, The Zero Hour, where Tabaac interviews the top minds in the psychedelic space. The most valuable aspect, Tabaac says, was the connections made with fellow colleagues. He connected with psychiatrists, psychologists, social workers, and researchers who were curious about psychedelic medicine and established this virtual space where they could openly discuss without stigma, judgment, or fear of retribution.
“I attribute a lot of my own development and personal growth and passion for the space to the Psychedelics Anonymous project, because prior to getting involved in that community, there was trepidation over being judged by friends and by society at large, as a lot of the negative press and stigma still remains, dating back to Nixon’s War on Drugs,” he says. Psychedelics Anonymous also catalyzed Tabaac’s passion in the field to present a TEDx talk discussing Mental Health Meets Psychedelics. In this talk listeners are challenged to question their preconceived notions and judgements as it pertains to the group of restricted therapeutics in the psychedelic class. Tabaac asks if this class of drugs can serve as a paradigm shift in the way mindfulness therapy and mental health is approached.
Balancing Passion and Clinical Practice
Dr. Tabaac recognizes the difference between his passion for advancing psychedelic medicine and his commitment to ethics. “I infrequently discuss psychedelics with my patient population, exceptions including clinical trial offerings if inclusion criteria is met. Doctors and health practitioners are constrained by the limits of their medical licensure, and must remain patient until FDA approval is achieved,” Tabaac says. “I think it’s still premature and out of my scope to offer psychedelics to my patients. My mission and my role is better served in pushing clinical research forward, commiting patient enrollment in trials, and inviting speakers who are experts in the psychedelic space to present on my podcast I incorporate teachings on psychedelics to the medical students that rotate with me as it is the only space where they have exposure to learning about these modalities. The enthusiasm and interest among the next generation of physicians is encouraging.”
The demand for alternative mental health solutions continues to increase. Organizations like the Psychedelic Medicine Association, dedicated to providing ketamine treatments and with whom Tabaac is affiliated, are addressing the needs of individuals seeking non-traditional routes. While certain prescriptions may fall beyond the scope of some physicians, adopting a holistic approach becomes crucial. With physicians like Tabaac considering various facets of a person’s well-being, such as sleep, lifestyle, nutrition, social support, mindfulness practices and physical health, individuals can benefit from more comprehensive and personalized mental health care. This avenue goes beyond medications, recognizing the broader needs of patients. It underscores the importance of tending to various dimensions of a person’s life to foster holistic well-being and empowers individuals to explore diverse modalities for emotional harmony. Tabaac emphasizes the moniker of focusing “mental health as part of whole health.”
The Future of Psychedelic Medicine
For physicians like Tabaac, exploring the uncharted waters of psychedelic medicine opens up new possibilities for patient treatment and professional development. It provides access to innovative therapies, nurtures professional growth, and enables them to explore new frontiers beyond the constraints of conventional methods. By breaking stigma, advancing the field, and advocating for holistic modalities, physicians have the opportunity to play a pivotal role in enhancing the field of mental health and allopathy, offering new hope and potential healing pathways to patients. A new era in Western medicine, where evidence-based methodologies, holistic approaches, and comprehensive care intersect, holds the potential for a transformative landscape on the healthcare horizon.
Peace signs reigned in the 70s. Yin yangs were the symbol of the 90s. And today? Mushrooms have become the token of our generation.
Mushrooms. Are. Everywhere. You’ll find them on and in everything, from home decor to health foods, festival campgrounds, and your morning beverage. Our ancestors used mushrooms for thousands of years, so why did fungi fever hit so suddenly in the 2020s?
Trend or Truthsayer?
Civilization is at a turning point. Climate activists fear the worst, mental health issues are at an all-time high, and the political landscape seems more tumultuous than ever. With fear and uncertainty all around us, our collective whole-body and societal health is suffering, and people are desperate for solutions.
It’s no secret that the Western healthcare model wasn’t designed to cure the root of illnesses, but instead, to address their symptoms. While pharmaceuticals can be lifesaving, they’re not a sustainable treatment for long-term use for many illnesses, with side effects that sometimes cause more harm than the initial diagnosis. Patients may be better served by combining the cutting-edge science of Western practices alongside the ancient wisdom of Eastern modalities. Enter the mushroom.
Therapists, practitioners, and doctors have begun to take a holistic approach to caregiving by incorporating plant medicines into their protocols. Innovators and entrepreneurs are taking action too, developing mushroom-based products to enhance the body’s natural ability to protect itself from toxins, stressors, and ultimately, to heal itself. Canada-based Mind Mend carries a full line of capsules, gummies, and fruiting bodies they say were designed to address the current health crisis.
“People are turning to psilocybin in their search for alternatives to traditional mental health treatments,” Mind Mend founder Matt Smith told Psychedelics Today. “They’re disheartened by the side effects and potential dependence associated with pharmaceuticals, and we provide access to the healing benefits of mushrooms – a natural, plant-based solution.”
“We encounter a prevalent myth: that psilocybin mushrooms are solely recreational or even harmful. We’re here to challenge that. We see psilocybin as a valuable tool for mental health, capable of therapeutic wonders when used responsibly,” Smith continued. “It’s not solely a substance for supporting creativity and freedom, but a potential lifeline for those struggling with mental health issues.”
*While psilocybin has shown promise for improving mental health or performance, it’s strongly advised that those curious about utilizing them, magical or otherwise, do personal research and seek resources that are vetted by community and/or industry professionals.
Form & Fungtion
There are over 50,000 (!) species of mushrooms, and many have various benefits including boosting immunity, increasing energy levels, aiding in digestion, improving sleep, and enhancing cognitive performance. Functional mushrooms, or adaptogenic mushrooms, are non-psychedelic fungi that contain biologically active compounds that have been used for thousands of years due to their superfood characteristics.
The most popular include reishi, chaga, lion’s mane, cordyceps, tremella, and turkey tail, and even non-mushroom lovers can reap their rewards. Functional mushroom company Fungies offers three delicious, vegan gummy blends which include lion’s mane for brain health, cordyceps for energy and performance, and reishi for immunity and stress. And this conscious company also gives back with every purchase.
Rob Kaufman, Fungies co-founder explains, “After the birth of my son I realized how important proper nutrition was for both expecting mothers and children. That’s why we’re proud to partner with Vitamin Angels to help provide women and children with the nutritional support they need to build the foundation for a healthy life. For every bottle of Fungies sold, we make a 1-for-1 donation to provide a pregnant woman or child with life-changing nutritional support around the world and here at home. We’re helping to build a healthier world, one gummy at a time.”
In addition to the tangible health benefits of functional mushrooms, psilocybin-bearing mushrooms have more abstract, yet deeply impactful advantages. Psilocybin can heighten our sensory perceptions and awareness of self. Research is also showing promise in treating end-of-life depression, suicidal ideation, addiction, traumatic brain injury, PTSD, and more. Psilocybin can conjure feelings of wholeness and connectedness within those partaking, and those perspectives may remain even after the trip fades.
Are you interested in using psilocybin for personal exploration? Join us in Jamaica this fall, with two retreats in an idyllic island location to choose from. Learn more and secure your space today! https://psychedelicstoday.com/events/
Similar to cannabis, different strains and types of mushrooms offer various benefits and they can be consumed in many forms. Take Brain Flow honey for example, by Haj Botanics. Their proprietary microdosing honey formula combines the innate antioxidant and antimicrobial properties of raw honey with their specially cultivated Shakti psilocybin mushroom blend, designed to help unlock creative potential, enhance mental clarity, and offer relief from anxiety and ADHD symptoms. Their Brain Buzz line is an adaptogenic, non-psychedelic blend formulated to bolster energy, enhance skin and heart health, and improve cognitive function. All of their lines are available both as infused honey and vegan capsules, ensuring accessibility for diverse dietary preferences.
Mushrooms have served as agents of transformation and healing in the lives of Haj Botanics’ founders, Hayley and Taj. Hayley is a courageous sex trafficking survivor whose journey to recovery led her to mushrooms. Their ability to provide not just temporary relief, but enduring, deep-seated healing, brought about profound change in her life and opened her eyes to their power and effectiveness. Taj, who once struggled with ADHD and the complexities of racial identity, found solace and understanding through his work with mushrooms. His personal experiences of enhanced focus, calm, and emotional resilience through microdosing illuminated a path towards holistic mental wellness that was not previously clear to him.
Honey and gummies are just the tip of the shroom-berg. Coffee replacements, beverage elixirs, tinctures, teas, and chocolates are inundating our IG feeds and DMs. But in addition to mushroom-infused consumables, mushroom experiences are gaining popularity, too. With the rise in demand for psychedelic therapists and coaches, it’s essential that clinicians be practically trained with professional guides to safely provide sessions to those in need. Psychedelics Today is working alongside Kiyumi Retreats to offer legal opportunities in the Netherlands for practitioners to work with psilocybin in a group setting. We’re not only holding a container for personal healing, but our Vital students are able to work with the medicine and be a facilitator for their colleagues. So regardless of psychedelic comfort level, mushrooms in all their beautiful forms are becoming more accessible by the minute.
Mycelium Breakdown
Not only are mushrooms valuable in enhancing the human experience in mind, body, and spirit, but they have superpower-like abilities in remediating environmental distress. Unlike plants that get their energy from the sun, mushrooms thrive by decomposing organic matter like plants, animals, and other substances potentially toxic to humans. Organizations like Corenewal are actively conducting mycoremediation projects on sites damaged by oil spills, chemical leaching, and wildfires; they are researching how fungi can clean contaminated waterways and soils polluted with heavy metals – mushrooms are not a phase, but our future!
Maybe the best part about them is that they are able to be grown anywhere and even in the comfort of our homes. From home-grow companies like Wonderbags, you can purchase a kit today and learn how to cultivate your favorite strains.
Zach Dorsett, Wonderbags founder says, “Mushrooms are a model for our society. In the mycelium, individual cells connect with each other, work together, and share resources for the benefit of all of the cells. They recycle waste into resources for growth and elevate one another to higher purposes. Mushrooms can greatly impact physical health, provide food security and sustainability to local economies. Many mushrooms are not only nutritious, but in some cases, give us access to superfoods that can only be found in them. Lions mane, for instance, is the only known source for Hericenones and Erinacines which have been shown to have powerful neurogenic and neuro-regenerative properties. I have a lot of gratitude for the community of Indigenous people that paved the way for us to heal with mushrooms.”
Join us from Sept. 6. – 11 in the tranquil Dutch countryside for a unique psilocybin retreat. Shared and private rooms available, and a few spaces remain. Secure your spot and learn more today. https://psychedelicstoday.com/events/
Shroom Bloom or Gloom?
While we support the exploration of psilocybin (and other mushrooms) for their healing potential, it’s worth acknowledging that there is no quick fix for mental illness or centuries of humanity’s planetary impact. Doing deep work is essential to discovering the source of our dis-ease in order to heal ourselves, our society, and the environment.
So while the explosion of the mushroom market is promising, remain cautious about companies claiming to cure this and solve that. Education is paramount, understanding topics like personal dosing, legality, set and setting, and mental health history, can make or break an experience. There is still much work to be done to heal our culture, but a future with more mushrooms may be a brighter one for humanity. If we can learn anything from them, it’s that symbiosis is key – we are all interconnected and the health of one is the health of all.
Psilocybin-containing mushrooms grow wild on every continent except Antarctica. Over 200 species of fungi contain psilocybin, so our planet is unlikely to be in short supply anytime soon.
Nevertheless, we sometimes find ourselves in situations where we don’t have enough mushroom medicine. This could be because our access is limited, or because we’re dancing around legal limits on dosing.
Thankfully, there are some simple hacks we can use to get the most potency out of the medicine we have available.
The Role of Psilocin in Trips
Psilocybin is a pro-drug – a pharmacologically inactive substance when ingested. Upon consumption, it is metabolized into the compound psilocin – the active component responsible for your trip.
Stomach acid is essential for metabolizing the mushrooms into psilocin. It can take an hour or longer after eating the mushrooms for the trip to begin, as it takes time for the hydrochloric acid of the stomach to sufficiently break down the mushrooms and metabolize the psilocybin.
Unfortunately, many people nowadays have low levels of stomach acid. These include our seniors (hydrochloric acid production decreases with age), people on conventional reflux medications (which decrease stomach acid production), individuals with hypothyroidism (who have slower metabolisms), those with Helicobacter pylori infection (it damages the stomach lining and reduces acid production), and people with some other medical conditions.
Many hacks for speeding up the trip onset and making the mushrooms come on stronger are rooted in increasing hydrochloric acid levels and imitating the acidic environment of the stomach.
Light Eating for Quick Tripping
Eating a big meal before taking mushrooms slows the body’s metabolism of psilocybin to psilocin. That’s because the mushrooms you eat after a large meal go to the end of the line for processing. After the stomach is done churning out hydrochloric acid to bust up that double bacon cheeseburger, it’ll see what it can do for that last course of mushrooms.
Having less food in the stomach helps the digestive system get to the task of breaking down the psilocybin in the mushrooms, getting the trip started faster. It can also reduce the risk of nausea and vomiting.
Note: if you tend to get hypoglycemic (low blood sugar), then eating a little something to stabilize your blood sugar levels before, during, and after the trip is a good idea.
The Hidden Cost of Acid Inhibitors
Omeprazole, a medication that reduces stomach reflux, is one of the most commonly prescribed medications in the developed world nowadays. Sold as “the little purple pill” under the brand name Prilosec in the States, omeprazole temporarily alleviates the symptoms of acid reflux by inhibiting the stomach’s secretion of hydrochloric acid. Omeprazole and calcium carbonate tablets like TUMS should not be used for longer than two weeks at a time, but most people use them for months, and even years, not realizing the harm they’re doing to their health.
We need hydrochloric acid to properly digest our food and pull the nutrients out of what we eat. Without enough hydrochloric acid, we’re more likely to develop low bone density and dementia later in life. We’re also more likely to experience bloating, gas, and other digestive ailments because we can’t properly digest our food. To learn more about the risks of conventional reflux treatments and healthier alternatives, check out my article on TUMS and Prilosec.
Note: Even if you want to stay on your acid-suppressing medications, you might want to skip them on the days you trip.
Acidic Shortcut to Psilocybin Conversion, aka. the Lemon Tek
Lemon juice, lime juice, and vinegar mimic the acidic environment of the stomach, thus beginning the conversion of psilocybin into psilocin outside of the body before you ingest mushrooms. To prepare a lemon tek, simply chop up the mushrooms or grind them in a coffee grinder and let them soak in an acidic juice for about 15 minutes, then drink up.
This preparation is a great option for folks on antacid medications, the elderly, and those who tend to feel nauseous from mushrooms. It’s also a handy remedy for people who know that it takes a long time and a lot of mushrooms for them to start tripping.
Don’t leave the mixture to soak beyond 20 minutes, however, as more time can cause the psilocin to degrade. It’s crucial to note that lemon tekking is not permitted in Oregon’s psilocybin service centers, but luckily there are things you can do to increase your stomach acid levels at home before you head to the service center.
Naturally Increase Stomach Acid Levels
A variety of natural remedies can help increase the stomach’s production of hydrochloric acid. Here are some tried and true remedies, all of which you can do at home.
Drink lemon juice: Squeeze the juice of half of a fresh lemon into a small amount of water and drink it, ideally on an empty stomach, at least 15 minutes before taking psilocybin.
Apple cider vinegar: Drink one-fourth to one-half a teaspoon of raw apple cider vinegar diluted in a little water, ideally on an empty stomach, at least 15 minutes before taking psilocybin.
Kale: Chew on a little piece of raw (uncooked) kale, chard, or dandelion greens at least 15 minutes before taking psilocybin.
Herbal bitters: Herbal bitters can commonly be found in the health food store. My personal favorites include gentian, wormwood, and skullcap. As the name implies, bitter formulas taste bitter! They can be purchased in liquid or capsule format. While both work, I find that the liquid works better than the capsules. Bitter flavors on the tongue trigger the stomach to reflexively make more hydrochloric acid. Note that liquid bitters products are usually extracted in alcohol, so if you’re sensitive to alcohol, go for a glycerin preparation or capsules.
Betaine HCl: Betaine is the closest thing we have in pill form to what the stomach produces. This supplement is best used under the guidance of a naturopathic physician (ND) or herbalist. The gist to using HCl is this: start with one capsule at mealtime. At every meal, increase the dose by one more capsule (with breakfast take, one capsule; with lunch, take two; with dinner, take three). When you hit the dose that causes heat or burning in the throat or upper chest, stop. Reduce the dose by one capsule at mealtimes, and by two capsules on the day you take the mushrooms. For example, if you find that five capsules at mealtime cause burning and nausea, then take four capsules at all meals to help you digest your food. Then, on the day you trip, take three capsules on an empty stomach around the time of your mushroom dose.
On Antidepressants
Individuals on selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) also sometimes need higher doses of psilocybin before they reach optimal effects. It’s worth noting that some professionals urge caution around combining antidepressants with psilocybin, but many of my patients have healed on mushrooms while on an SSRI without any adverse effects.
More research is clearly warranted on this topic.
The Role of Cannabis
Cannabis is an interesting (and controversial) adjuvant to psilocybin treatment, and one that doesn’t increase stomach acid levels.
Typically the way that cannabis is used in this context is to eat the mushrooms first, and then wait. If after an hour not much has happened, you can use cannabis to help you “launch.”
During my work in Jamaica, I saw many times that just a couple of puffs of marijuana helped people fully “take off” into their trip. The downside to using cannabis is that it can cause dry eyes, dry mouth, and dopiness – especially in people who don’t regularly use it. If you know that you need more than five grams of mushrooms to achieve your desired effect, then you may hit a glass ceiling at an Oregon service center. While the facilitator isn’t supposed to allow clients to take a hit of weed after they consume the mushrooms, what individuals do prior to entering the center is a matter of personal discretion.
Utilizing Breathwork to Amplify Psilocybin
Working with a practitioner who is trained in techniques like Holotropic, Reichian, or other types of breathwork can also help catalyze a psychedelic experience. Mushrooms pair nicely with “getting high on your own supply,” as the saying goes. Seriously: don’t underestimate the power of breath work. Even without a single milligram of psilocybin, breathwork alone is enough to send people into powerful, transformative trips.
Preparatory Sessions
The deeper you’re able to go in healing before taking psilocybin, the more you’re likely to get from the trip. In my own practice, I’ve found that the patients who do a couple of counseling appointments prior to tripping are the ones who have the most healing psychedelic experiences. There are many paths to “thinning the veil,” as I call it. People who are guarded – or have an iron curtain around their subconscious – need more medicine to help them “break through” their defenses. Patients who have a “thinner veil,” however, often just need a little bit of medicine to start the work.
On a recent retreat, we had a guest who wasn’t at dinner on the first night. When I went to check on her I found her in her room, sobbing. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she moaned, “but I’ve just felt so sad ever since I unpacked my suitcase!”
The way I understood it, this guest’s healing had already begun. Just by arriving at the retreat site, the part of her subconscious that was holding things together had softened, allowing the dam of tears to break. Her veil, in other words, was thin. This guest took very little psilocybin in the days that followed, yet she went deep in her work. If you don’t have a counselor to work with, then you can experiment with journaling, talking to friends, doing guided meditations, writing letters, or engaging in other practices to start letting repressed thoughts and feelings arise. I highly recommend the book The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, which offers deceptively simple prompts for journaling and reflection. These practices will likely help you get more mileage from your psychedelic trip. Or, as one of my friends often says, “the medicine is just part of the medicine.”
The Less-is-More Approach to Psychedelics
While we often glorify heroic doses, it’s important to remember that plenty of learning, growth, and healing can happen with small amounts of psilocybin, too. Personally, the most life-changing trip I ever had was on just one gram. On my last retreat, one woman cleaned childhood trauma out of her cells on just 2.5 grams, and in research settings, people report some of their most spiritually significant experiences on the equivalent of 3.5 grams of mushrooms. More isn’t always better, and, in fact, dosing medicine too high can increase the risk of throwing too much at the nervous system, which can be destabilizing and can cause more harm than good.
So, if you find yourself with less psilocybin than you initially thought you needed, try some of the hacks above. But even if you don’t, you’ll probably learn something.
Planning on hitting a festival this summer? You’re not alone. With COVID restrictions and cancellations now a thing of the past, many music lovers are heading back into the wild and hitting summer concerts and festivals all around the world with renewed energy, making up for lost time with their psychedelic communities and their favorite artists.
But with the freedom and joy that comes along with dancing, hugging, and partying with thousands of strangers until the sun comes up, also comes the potential for mishaps, and at worst, serious harm to you and your friends.
Gathered from our team at Psychedelics Today – who have decades of festival experience between them – here are some tips to help you stay safe and get the most out of your party time during this psychedelic summer.
Pre-Purchase Your Substances and Test Them
In 2023, there is no excuse for having to resort to taking whatever substances you can get your hands on at a festival. While it’s possible (and likely!) you’ll be offered psychedelics at festivals, never take anything from someone you don’t know. Should you choose to take psychedelics (or any other substances), acquire them ahead of time from sources you trust and test them before consuming any. Groups like DanceSafe, Qtests, Bunk Police, and Test Kit Plus offer a wide variety of regent testing kits to give you a better understanding of what is (and isn’t) in your substances, including fentanyl. And if you’re in Canada, you can send a sample of your substance to getyourdrugstested.com for a free analysis. You can also browse their results catalog to get a sense of what’s going around in your area, and what the lab results reveal. Many festivals partner with harm reduction groups to provide substance testing on-site, so if you can’t test ahead of time, check to see if your festival offers on-site testing – and use it.
Plan Your Transportation Ahead
Figuring out how you’re getting to – and perhaps, more importantly – from the festival grounds ahead of time is crucial. This may include public transportation, shuttle services, or carpooling, so determine which option suits your needs and budget. Assign a designated driver, don’t get in a vehicle with someone who might be intoxicated, don’t drive if you’ve been consuming, and avoid walking or biking on poorly lit roads or paths. And when in doubt, call your parents – even if you’re 35, chances are they’ll be happy to give you a safe ride home (and they might even make you breakfast).
Get Familiar With the Festival Grounds
Upon arriving at the festival, get a map of the grounds and familiarize yourself with its layout. Locate important areas such as the first aid tent, water stations, restrooms, camping area, and stages. Knowing where these facilities are will save you time and effort when you need them most. Pay attention to emergency exit points as well, ensuring you have a plan in case of an emergency.
Pack Smart: Essentials for a Comfortable Experience
Preparing a well-thought-out festival survival kit will make your experience much more enjoyable. Some essential items to consider packing include:
Energy bars or nutrient-dense snacks: these will provide quick bursts of energy to keep you going during long sets.
Toiletries: pack travel-sized toiletries to keep your body clean. Wet wipes, hand sanitizer, mouthwash, and tissues are particularly useful in festival environments where you can get real grimy, real fast.
Changes of clothes and socks: staying fresh and dry is crucial in preventing discomfort, blisters, and skin irritation.
SPF protection: apply sunscreen liberally to protect your skin from harmful UV rays.
Pain relievers: bring some over-the-counter pain relievers like Advil or Tylenol in case of headaches or injuries.
Upset stomach relief: bring TUMS or Pepto in case of heartburn or indigestion.
Phone charger or battery pack: keep your phone charged at all times to stay connected with friends and have access to emergency services if needed.
Sunglasses: shield your eyes from the sun and prevent eye strain caused by bright lights or lasers during performances.
Set Your Intention
Just like you might with a ceremony, or guided psychedelic journey, ask yourself what you’re hoping to achieve before you dose. Is it a greater connection with your friends and community? Is it a deeper exploration of your inner mind and heart? Is it appreciation for the musicians, artists, or to experience the music more intensely? Or is it simply celebration, unwinding, and feeling good? Whatever it is, big or small, it’s ok! Just try to define it, and go into your experience knowing what you hope to achieve. It also helps to tell your friends what your plan is for the evening or weekend (both the substances you plan to consume and your goals). Added transparency can help you with your psychedelic integration, but can also help mitigate any potential harms, if your friends are watching your back and know your consumption plans.
Stay with Your Friends: Safety in Numbers
Attending a festival with good friends is not only more fun, but helps keep you safe. Try to make sure you always have a sightline to your friends in the crowd, but develop a plan to find each other in case you get separated (which can happen easily). Pre-designate a central meeting point to wait for your friends if you get separated, just in case there’s no cell service or one of your devices dies. If you’re attending alone, consider joining or creating a meet-up group to connect with other people, so you’ll have at least a few festival friends. Whatever you do, don’t leave the event with strangers – even if they seem nice, or you’re hoping to hook up – you really don’t know who you’re going home with. Grab that number, and hit up the person in a few days instead.
Hydrate: The Key to Beat the Heat
Summer festivals often take place under the scorching sun, and staying hydrated is paramount to keep the good times flowing. Dehydration can occur a lot more easily than you might think, and can lead to fatigue, dizziness, and even heatstroke – a potentially life-threatening condition. Make it a priority to drink plenty of water throughout the day. Carry a refillable water bottle and take advantage of water stations if available at the festival grounds, and consider bringing electrolyte-rich drinks, or drink powders to replenish essential minerals lost through sweat. Pro tip: Bring an extra bottle cap with you. Refillable water stations aren’t always available and venues usually sell water bottles without caps. Being able to seal your water can make all the difference in the world.
Take Breaks From the Dance Floor
When you’re really feeling the vibe, it’s tempting to dance non-stop. However, it’s crucial to give your body regular breaks. Even though you might feel like you have the stamina to go all day or night, dancing for hours on end can exhaust you physically and mentally – and you might not realize it until it’s too late. Take short breaks between sets in shaded areas to rest and recharge. Find a spot where you can sit down and relax while enjoying the music from a distance. Taking regular breaks will pay off – it ensures that you can last throughout the festival without feeling completely drained by the end of the first day.
Pace Your Consumption
And speaking of completely wrecking yourself the first day – you don’t want to be that guy. You the one we mean – the guy who’s rolling around naked in the mud a couple of hours after the gates open. Not only is it not a great look, but if you go too hard, too fast, you could spend the rest of the weekend feeling like shit in your tent and miss out on all the great acts you wanted to see. Finally getting to that big event you’ve been waiting for feels incredible, and the urge to go completely off the rails is real (we’ve all been there!) but the best festivals are a marathon – never a sprint.
Remember to Eat
Amidst all the sets and activities, it can be easy to forget about eating, especially when substances are involved that suppress appetite. And sometimes, eating is inconvenient – vendors might run out of food before the event ends, or pricing for simple snacks or bottled water can cost a lot. However, proper nutrition is essential for maintaining your energy levels. Try to pack a variety of portable snacks like granola bars, nuts, dried fruit, or energy bars. Incorporate water-rich foods into your diet, like watermelon, oranges, or berries to help you stay hydrated while providing essential vitamins and minerals. And if you eat from the food carts, look for options that offer a balance of proteins, carbohydrates, and vegetables to keep your energy levels stable.
Are you looking for more insight into your trips? Check out this self-paced course, Navigating Psychedelics, your complete guide to understanding and integrating the psychedelic experience.
Remember: This Too Shall Pass
Sometimes, the combination of psychedelics and an intense festival environment can be extremely overwhelming. Should you find yourself in an uncomfortable headspace, surround yourself with people you trust, breathe through the emotions, and just remember – it won’t last forever. If a friend is going through a tough time, sit with them, let them know you’re there for them, and remain calm, and hold space. However, there is a difference between a challenging psychedelic experience, and a serious medical issue, so ALWAYS keep a watchful eye out for signs of drug toxicity in yourself and others (nausea, difficulty breathing, chest pain, dizziness, etc.) and seek out medical attention if necessary. When in doubt, a trip to the medical tent is never a bad idea.
Stretch It Out
Dancing and standing for long periods of time can strain your muscles and lead to discomfort. Take breaks to stretch and release tension. Stretching exercises can improve circulation, prevent muscle cramps, and help you stay flexible. Consider incorporating gentle yoga poses or basic stretching routines into your festival experience to keep you limber and feeling good on the dance floor.
Find Quiet Places: Retreat From the Chaos
Finding moments of tranquility from all the festival stimuli can be crucial for recharging and regaining focus. Seek out quiet places within the festival grounds:
Chill-out areas: many festivals have designated chill-out zones where you can relax and escape the noise. These areas may feature comfortable seating, hammocks, or shaded spaces. Take advantage of these spaces to unwind, socialize with other festival-goers, or simply enjoy a moment of solitude.
Natural surroundings: if the festival grounds allow, explore nearby natural areas. Find a serene spot under a tree, by a lake, or on a hilltop to enjoy some peace and connect with nature. Nature has a calming effect on the mind and can provide a much-needed break from the intensity of the festival atmosphere.
Silent disco or acoustic sets: some festivals offer silent discos or acoustic sets, where you can enjoy music with headphones or experience stripped-down performances. These intimate settings provide a break from the overwhelming sound levels of main stages while still allowing you to enjoy live music.
And for the Love of God – Sleep
Unpopular opinion: acting on the phrase ‘I can sleep when I’m dead’ is, while kind of true, a really great way to ruin your festival experience. Adequate sleep is crucial for recharging your body and mind, so try to establish a sleep routine if you’re on a multi-day trip. Find a quiet and comfortable place to rest, whether it’s in your tent or a designated camping area. Invest in earplugs, an eye mask, some CBD (visit our friends at HempLucid for 10% off all products with code PSYCHEDELICS10) or noise-canceling headphones to create a peaceful sleeping environment, and get some shuteye – even just for a few hours.
What are some of your top tips for staying safe and having a great time at festivals? Join in the conversation on our socials, and tell us how you make the most out of your trips.
When you realize that you’re not who you thought you were, the spiritual leader Ram Dass used to say, the path to enlightenment begins. This is also the beginning of the journey for LGBTQIA+ people.
In either case, self-realization can be prompted by psychedelics. But that transition is a scary one: whether it’s your ego or the gender and sexual orientation you were assigned at birth, it requires the death of the person you’ve known. Ultimately, you break through into a place of beauty, truth, and love. But there’s usually a period of kicking and screaming first, trying to hold on as the known slips through your fingers.
For queer and gender-diverse people, it often isn’t safe to express or connect with who we are, so we learn to suppress this knowledge even from ourselves. Denying one’s authenticity causes trauma that can manifest as depression, anxiety, and PTSD. But LGBTQIA+ researchers, therapists, users, and underground practitioners are finding that psychedelic therapy has immense potential to help their communities heal from internalized queer- and transphobia.
Lxo, a London-based artist and research curator experimented with various medicines in art school when their queer, trans*, and non-binary identities began to surface, deposited by a repressive, religious upbringing and persisting through more than five years of talk therapy.
“Then I did one [dose] of s-ketamine, and something burst forward from the past, like a memory bubble” they say. “I was able to forgive and heal… the version of me that was really crying out for help.”
There Is No “Post-Trauma”
For queer and gender-diverse people, there is no “post-trauma,” says Dr. Jae Sevelius, a clinical psychologist and Professor of Medical Psychology in the Department of Psychiatry at Columbia University Medical Center. Rather, it’s ongoing, and “It’s not just about experiencing violence, it’s about experiencing violence because of who you are.”
Discovering who you really are should be a joyful revelation, but is still often met with violent opposition. Most suicide attempts occur within the first five years of realizing one’s sexual identity, irrespective of age; for many, this is during youth. More than half of U.S. trans and non-binary people age 13 – 24 considered killing themselves in 2020, while queer teens attempt suicide at a rate more than twice that of their straight peers.
Most mainstream therapies, however, treat trauma as an isolated incident. “[In the West,] we don’t have great approaches to offer people,” Sevelius says. “We have medicines that can treat the symptoms… but talk therapies for trauma… can be really challenging, [with] very high dropout and [low] success rates.”
What’s more, these frameworks aren’t built to support the queer experience. On the contrary, they’re often the very sources of the trauma they aim to treat. Homosexuality was still classified as a mental illness in the American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) until 1973; being transgender, until 2012. These links persist today, with gender-diverse people being required to undergo psychiatric evaluation before receiving supportive healthcare—assuming this is even an option.
I’ve experienced this firsthand: celebrating diagnoses that pathologize your identity because it means you can actually get the care you need, reinforcing cognitive dissonance and negative self-beliefs. It breeds mistrust among queer and especially gender-diverse people, especially those with intersecting underrepresented identities, such as BIPOC and sex workers, who face additional systemic barriers and are most impacted by the drug war.
Patients often have to educate their therapists and doctors in culturally relevant care, emotional labor that can be life-threatening. Even worse, queer and gender-diverse communities have been subjected to so-called conversion therapy, inhumane “treatments” that try to turn people cisgendered and straight, still legal in many places. Methods of administration have included electroconvulsive therapy — and psychedelics.
In 1950s and ’60s France, gay teens who had been institutionalized for the double “offense” of being gay and out were forced to take megadoses of LSD — up to 1200MG, three times the recommended maximum — then left alone in a room to be observed. Even Ram Dass — before his awakening, when he was still called Richard Alpert, a clinical psychologist, professor, and founding member of the Harvard Psilocybin Project — joined the likes of Timothy Leary and Stanislav Grof in similar experiments.
Playboy Interview: Timothy Leary – a candid conversation with the controversial ex-Harvard professor, prime partisan and prophet of LSD (September 1966 Issue)
In 1968, a Playboy interviewer questioned Leary about reports of LSD bringing forth “latent homosexual impulses,” to which Leary called the drug a “cure” for such “sexual perversions.” This approach scared some people into living straight lives, but most reported “relapse.” Ram Dass himself came out in the 1990s, but rarely spoke publicly about this fundamental aspect of self, struggling his whole life with internalized shame.
Rethinking Clinical Frameworks
The fact that substances known as truth agents could be used as tools of oppression speaks to the influence of set and setting – and, perhaps even more, of institutions like medicine, psychotherapy, and the university system, where outcomes must align with conclusions that satisfy funding sources.
Today, the barriers to both gender-affirming treatment and psychedelic healing remain immense. Part of the problem is that LGBTQIA+ people are underrepresented on both sides of psychedelic therapy and research, as well as the sciences more broadly, and largely feel unwelcome in all these arenas.
“We need to recognize that there are specific needs between different people within the community, and those needs arise from systemic failures,” says Alfredo Carpineti, a queer astrophysicist and founder of UK charity Pride in STEM.
Research both reflects and creates the world, as psychologist and Yale researcher Terence Ching and others have observed. Psychedelic clinical trials and research studies don’t even gather data on sexual orientation and gender identity, so there is no way to know how psychedelic therapy impacts LGBTQIA+ communities, yet the message this sends to them is clear.
Existing studies and trials are not designed to capture or accommodate queer experiences, typically using cis-het, male-female therapist dyads that are meant to mimic hetero-normative parenting frameworks. Additionally, therapists are not trained to handle complex gender and sexuality issues that may come up during sessions.
Misgendering or failing to affirm someone’s identity can be particularly wounding, Sevelius warns. Those designing studies need to ask who is training and recruiting the therapists, and where they’re recruiting participants. A study on MDMA therapy for gender-diverse populations that they contributed to found current protocols lacking, calling for explicitly gender-affirming treatment and safer, more inclusive settings.
“I get requests all the time from trans and gender-diverse people asking me how they can be included in clinical trials. And I have to say, I don’t feel comfortable referring people,” Sevelius says. “Psychedelics create a very vulnerable psychological state. When you don’t know whether the therapists are really competent to be working with our communities, it’s very likely someone will get re-traumatized.”
Psychedelic research also needs to more rigorously capture demographic data about sexual and gender identity, but most organizations don’t have the resources, Ching says. Still, it’s crucial to recruit and train more LGBTQIA+ researchers and therapists to support straight ones in building queer-inclusive clinical spaces.
“There are many ways to improve access,” Ching says. “Rethink your eligibility criteria [and] do more than put up fliers. Go to queer organizations, talk to people, … do a town hall. Tell them what PTSD is and actually get savvy with the fact that sexism, racism, homophobia, and transphobia can lead to it.”
You’re Not Who You Thought You Were
Saoirse* spent five years in the military police, presenting masculine as a means of survival. Struggling with “decades of suppression and depression as well as PTSD from growing up in cis-het society and from the military,” she had already done a decade’s worth of talk therapy through the VA, cognitive processing therapy (CPT; a cognitive behavioral therapy for PTSD), and couples counseling. Then she participated in an ayahuasca ceremony.
“Having a safe space to explore my beingness… within a [sacred container and] Peruvian Amazonian lineage… was the key for me in discovering my true essence,” she says. “The masculine persona… dropped away. The other women gathered around me in a group hug, and I felt my true self seen, held, and celebrated for the first time.”
Talk-based approaches like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) are standard treatment for afflictions like addiction and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but these focus on managing present symptoms rather than targeting the trauma at its roots.
During his own MDMA therapy session, Ching was visited by otherworldly animal entities that helped him reconcile his queer and Asian-American identities, which he describes as “a profound experience of unshackling myself from the confines of internalized homophobia.”
Dee Adams, a research program manager at Johns Hopkins University who studies the impact of psychedelic therapy on gender-diverse people, says, “Psychedelics unlock[ed] those pieces of me that I… didn’t have the courage in mundane reality to approach or be aware of. I don’t know of any [other] medicines that can… be directly attributed to that initial ‘aha’ moment.”
Psilocybin and LSD have huge potential in triggering these insights, Sevelius says, as they’re known to break stuck patterns. MDMA is effective for identity-based trauma because it increases self-compassion and empathy, they add, and can improve gender resiliency when combined with affirming care. Along with a New York-based clinical partner, they’re also developing the first ketamine-assisted group therapy study created by and for trans and gender-diverse people.
Yet the relief goes beyond clinical symptoms. In her ayahuasca journeys, Saoirse connected with not only her own femininity but the feminine archetype, transmitted through the spirit of her mother, who was dying of a brain tumor.
“Spirit gifted me with an experience of the female pain body… and all the feminine has held for the masculine throughout the ages,” she says, including “the damage the masculine has done to itself… in committing violence. I was shown the breadth of our journey as souls through lifetimes and the beautiful and terrible dance of the human story.”
She also experienced reconciling with her mother’s spirit from her painful first coming-out, something antidepressants and talk therapy could never provide. “Healing does not occur in the mind,” Saoirse says. “Especially [when] healing core wounds with identity and gender identity, [it] takes place in the heart, … in belonging, and sacred witnessing of our stories, held in the eyes of love.”
Three Key Words: I See You
We all need to be seen and loved exactly as we are; it’s a fundamental human need, second only to physical survival and safety. Constantly being disaffirmed by others can cause what Sevelius terms “identity threat,” manifesting in mental health issues, isolation, and substance overuse.
The cure is increasing affirmation while reducing reliance on external validation; psychedelic therapy, they explain, can do both. Affirmation comes from therapists and the sense of connection to larger, mystical forces; the medicines help people validate their own being.
But deconstructing and reconstructing your self-concept is a monumental task; often an entire life’s work. With any psychedelic journey, but especially for LGBTQIA+ users, support before, during, and after the session is essential. Shortcomings of the current clinical framework — not to mention the dubious legal status of most medicines — means many may be better-served by shamanic, Indigenous, and underground providers, something queer researchers confirm.
“Even as a scientist, I don’t necessarily always advocate that the clinical trial is better,” Ching says. “There are some ways of knowing, like gray literature [research published outside formal academic channels] or having your own personal experience, that might be more beneficial than reading it in a scientific journal.”
For Adams, the approaches go hand in hand. Psychotherapy and prescription medication might be additional tools people use for ongoing support after psychedelics bring them the initial realization.
Peer-support networks can be incredibly helpful, providing that essential component for healing: affirmation. Groups such as the Queer Psychedelic Society and Transadelic connect LGBTQIA+ people who use psychedelics through messaging platforms and integration circles. Many trans and gender-diverse people, in particular, find connecting with like-minded others crucial.
“There was a time when our culture was celebrating queerness, but [you had to be] a specific type of queer. I think people are still having and perpetuating that trauma,” says Transadelic member Casey*. “I don’t seek out queer spaces. But I’m really grateful for this one.”
For Saoirse, “hav[ing] my transition journey of self-discovery held… within a conscious spiritual community… has made all the difference for my self-acceptance, self-love, self-confidence, and my quality of life.”
A Queer Medicine
The links between psychedelics, queer culture, and esotericism trace back to spiritual traditions and early LGBTQIA+ rights movements. In the 1960s and ’70s, groups such as the Cockettes and Radical Faeries challenged social norms and blurred counter-cultural boundaries, sprinkled with consciousness-expanding practices.
In fact, the Pride flag was conceived of during an acid trip in the era when the 60’s hippie culture began yielding to ’70s club culture, and queer people found community and catharsis on the dance floor using MDMA and LSD. The myriad colors reflecting off the mirrored disco ball inspired the flag’s late creator, Gilbert Baker, as a symbol that could replace the former logo, the upside-down pink triangle reclaimed from the Nazis.
Psychedelics have inherent queerness: interwoven into Indigenous societies with fluid conceptions of gender and sexuality; inverting expectations and challenging norms; releasing rigid patterns and making new connections, from found family to community care and long-neglected parts of yourself. One species of fungi has more than 23,000 distinct sexual identities; as mycologist Merlin Sheldrake observes, it helps scientists think beyond the binary, mirroring queer theory and reflecting the world in its crystalline multiplicity.
In the psychedelic state, “the dissolution of ego boundaries becomes the dissolution of binary categories,” Lxo observes, and integration “begins to connect and unify them, bringing all the various different energies, even seemingly binary ones like masculine and feminine, into a kind of relation.”
It’s crucial for the clinical establishment to understand that queer and transness isn’t something that needs to be cured — and tying treatment to disorders and diagnoses echoes of the pathologized past. Sevelius says the focus should be healing past wounds while building coping strategies for facing continual trauma. Meanwhile, Ching wants to see psychedelic therapy “targeted to identity-affirmation processes… fostering the wellbeing and actualization of queer folks.
“Psychedelics have the power to shift the way we see and experience the world, including ourselves, remembering who we were before a traumatized culture had its way with us. As Ching says, “I know I was born this way, but it took MDMA to show it to me, to accept the emotional truth, … and live my life according[ly].”
Editor’s note: Some names have been changed to protect the identity of the source.*
There are a great many tales to be told about the countercultural years of the 1960s, but the story of tripping Rabbis whose psychedelic exploration contributed to a great Jewish Renewal isn’t found in many history books.
While the world was shaken by the Vietnam War and the ongoing Cold War, the counterculture represented a rise of a new consciousness expressed in forms of music, art, drugs, and civil disobedience. In a collective rise against the ‘American dream’ utopia built by their parents, the young generation sought to find alternatives to materialist and conservative values. For them, the counterculture was a strike of anti-establishment, in an egalitarian spirit emphasizing the value of human relationships and the individual’s quest for meaning in life.
Drugs like LSD, cannabis, and mescaline became increasingly common with renowned academics, authors and poets of the era. But they weren’t the only cultural leaders exploring the power of mind-altering substances; while the world watched Timothy Leary, Richard Alpert (later known as Ram Dass), Aldous Huxley, and Allen Ginsberg encourage the new generation to turn on, tune in, and drop out, a few radical rabbis were quietly exploring the use of psychedelics to get closer to God, and revive age-old mystical traditions.
I was inspired to investigate the connection between liberal Jewish movements and psychedelics after encountering the article ‘Psychedelics and Kabbalah,’published in the Jewish youth magazine Response (1968) by Itzik Lodzer. Lodzer was revealed to be a pseudonym for Arthur Green, the now well-established Jewish scholar, rabbi, and influential figure in the establishment of liberal Jewish practices (for the remainder of this article, Lodzer will be referred to as Arthur Green). One of Green’s contributions was Havurat Shalom, an experimental community embracing Jewish libertarianism and alternative religious values. Through Havurat Shalom, Green met another unconventional rabbi: Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, now also commonly referred to as ‘Reb Zalman,’ founder of the Jewish Renewal movement. Schachter-Shalomi became the leading figure for the Jewish liberation theology, and his influence for the entire Jewish community is monumental.
Both Green and Schachter-Shalomi referred to psychedelics as tools to shed light onto forgotten mystical traditions. The Jewish Renewal movement was an epiphany of that realization, and strove to reinvigorate stagnant traditions by reinventing modern Judaism through Kabbalistic, Hasidic, and musical practices. The lives of these two rabbis, their encounters with psychedelic drugs, and the paths these experiences led them on, are remarkable examples of how psychedelic drugs were an integral part of reinventing Jewish theology.
From their stories we can conjecture that psychedelics were a factor in influencing certain powerful, liberal Jewish ideologies, as well as helping their users to experience Jewish mystical theology in a new light.
The Psychedelic Experience and the Kabbalah
Kabbalah is Hebrew for ‘receiving’. It encompasses a set of teachings generally distinguished from the ‘traditional’ Jewish doctrine. The term came into use in 13th century Spain, where a group of Jewish esoterics and mystics began to separate themselves from the regular Jewish practitioners. To this day, hundreds of modern Kabbalah centers have opened up all around the United States and Europe and many well-known celebrities with (and without) Jewish heritage have picked up the practice of this mystical tradition.
In the 1968 Jewish Review Response, Green draws a parallel between his psychedelic experience and the teachings of the Kabbalah. For him, the foundation of the Kabbalist teachings became vividly real during his encounter with LSD. This is also the likely reason why he chose to write about a topic which, even during the period when LSD was legal, was considered contentious for the traditional Jewish community. Green analyzed parts of the psychedelic experience corresponding to Kabbalist teachings. Many of the elements recognized today as classic psychedelic trip experiences, represented vivid manifestations of Green’s own belief system.
“That which I thought was all terribly real just a few seconds ago now seems to be a part of a great dramatic role-playing situation, a cosmic comedy which this ‘me’ has to play out for the benefit of the audience,” he said.
In Kabbalah the only ‘true’ unchanging reality is the Ein Sof, ‘the Upper Reality,’ our ways of perceiving that reality are under constant change. For Green, psychedelics opened the illusionary nature of unchanging reality and of his own self. He wrote: “Seen from beyond, however, world and ego are but aspects of the same illusion. From God’s point of view, only God can be real.”
The Paradox of Change
The second aspect Green brought forth is the paradox of the fundamental change of everything about God, the simultaneous fundamental constancy of God, and the circular coexistence of impermanence and permanence: “All is becoming moving. I blink my eyes and seem to reopen them to an entirely new universe. One terribly different from that which existed a moment ago […] If there is a ‘God’ we have discovered through psychedelics, He is the One within the many; the changeless constant in a world of change.”
God’s Gender – Maybe Not Male After All?
Having strongly experienced a feminine presence during his trip, Green questioned the prevailing Judeo-Christian assumptions of God as male, underlying that ‘the father of the heavens’ only makes sense in a context where there is also ‘the mother.’ He argued that Judaism today has become trapped by the stationary image of God as a father figure. Subsequently, the Jewish Renewal movement has been especially focused on the revival of the female Goddess. For Green, the two sides of God were as attainable for ‘contemporary trippers,’ as they had been for the mystics of the past.
Discovering God’s Fluid Essence
Typically, descriptions of divinity in Kabbalistic writings are inconsistent and fully metaphorical. Green observed the parallel of the flow of beautiful images during his trip and the fluid Kabbalist descriptions of the nature of divinity, but warned against any static statements defining God. He argued that only symbolic and metaphorical descriptions could come close to the truth. Although the process in which the voyager creates a metaphor to describe the flow of images and information can be enjoyable, he warned against taking one’s own imagery too seriously:
“Indeed, this is one of the great ‘pastime’ of people under the influence of psychedelics: the construction of elaborate and often beautiful systems of imagery which momentarily seem to contain all the meaning of life or the secrets of all the universe, only to push beyond them moments later, leaving their remains as desolate as the ruins of a child’s castle in the sand. No metaphor is permanent, one can always ascend another rung and look down on the silliness of what appeared to be a revelation just minutes before.”
Exploring God’s Authentic Nature
What Green referred to as the “deepest, simplest and most radical insight of the psychedelic consciousness” concerns the authentic nature of God. He wrote: “This insight has been so terribly frightening to the Jewish consciousness, so bizarre in terms of the biblical background of all Jewish faith, that even the mystics who knew it well, generally fled from fully spelling it out.”All reality is at one with the Divine, and therefore every human, Jewish or not, is a part of God’s divine nature, he posited. According to Green, the very sanity of the Western civilization lies in the ability to distinguish fantasy from reality, to separate between God and humans. Now that this fantasy had been shattered for the young Green, the rest of his life was bound to change. “If God and man are truly one … what has all the game been for?” he questioned.
Green’s testimony of his first psychedelic voyage is a remarkable historical account of how psychedelics can operate on the consciousness of a deeply religious individual. Green’s understanding of Kabbalah provided a strong framework through which the experience could fluidly mature, and although he voiced his concerns of autonomous explorations of God through psychopharmacology, he also believed both the psychedelic and mystical consciousness can be compatible.
In his 2016 biography, Hasidism for Tomorrow, he still states that taking LSD was an important step for his understanding of Hasidic and Kabbalistic philosophies. Such states would be achievable without the substances, he says, but acknowledges taking drugs and spontaneous mystical experiences as parallel processes.
The question arises: will the revolutionary qualities of the Jewish Renewal movement prove lasting, or will Judaism shake off Liberal influences and continue its static path? Just as the Jewish Renewal movement is often seen as a minor influence on a small current, the counterculture movement is often viewed as a failed attempt of revolution, as utopia slowly sinking into disappointment. Both Green and Schachter-Shalomi held their experiences with psychedelics as major influential points in their lives. As the research on psychedelic drugs and neurotheology continues to advance, perhaps the liberation theologies of a number of religions can be understood in a completely novel way.
According to Shalom Goldman, a professor of religion and Middle Eastern studies, the impact of the Jewish Renewal movement has left a permanent mark on contemporary Jewish life.
“Schachter-Shalomi’s Jewish Renewal still remains small in comparison to the larger Jewish denominations, but its influence is wide,” he said. “And many of those influenced would be quite surprised to read that in a way, it started with LSD.”
Editor’s note: this article is an adapted version of the essay, Tripping Rabbis: The Impact of Psychedelic Consciousness in the Revival of Jewish Mystical Tradition during the 1960s Counterculture Movement, by Johanna Hilla-Maria Sopanen, originally published in Psychedelic Press Volume XXI (2017).
The global psychedelic community is taking over Denver, Colorado from June 19-24 for Psychedelic Science 2023, presented by MAPS. Psychedelics Today is an official media partner, and we’ll be on the ground with 10 team members through the duration of the entire event at Booth 834, so be sure to stop by. We’re looking forward to participating in various talks, activations, and events throughout the week. And most importantly, we can’t wait to connect with our community.
Here’s where to find us in the flesh.
Monday, June 19:
5:30 p.m. – 9 p.m.: Calling all ketamine clinicians and practitioners! Join Psychedelics Today, SoundSelf and Being True To You at Lounge CashoM to kick off the conference. This event is specifically curated for ketamine clinicians and practitioners eager to connect with other like-minds, and to learn about new tools, cutting-edge research, and resources to help support their practice.
Cost: Free Registration required: Registration is now closed.
Tuesday, June 20
4 p.m. – 6 p.m.: Join Samantha Sweetwater, Holos and Psychedelics Today at Lounge CashoM for WHOLENESS: Building Capacity for a Real Psychedelic Renaissance. An evocative book reading, panel and networking space.
Cost: Free Registration required: Registration is now closed.
6:30 p.m. – midnight: You’re invited to an intimate and educational functional mushroom culinary experience with Mount Mushmore and Fungtion, followed by a vibey after party with music by BOSA at Lounge CashoM! Tickets are on sale now, and capacity is limited.
Cost: $30 – $150 Registration required: Registration is now closed.
Wednesday, June 21
7 a.m. – 7 p.m.: Find Psychedelics Today on the expo floor at Booth 834.
Cost: Free with Conference Pass Registration not required.
4 p.m. – 6 p.m.: Vital Student Meet Up at Lounge CashoM supported by LyfeChng.
Cost: Free Registration not required: Invite only
7 p.m. – 11 p.m.: Join us as we celebrate the Summer Solstice with Sarah Solstice, a world-class performer who has shared the stage with Britney Spears! Get bathed in sound at Deepening Into Heaven: MAPS Afterparty, presented by Within Center.
Cost: $111 Registration Required: Registration is now closed.
Thursday, June 22
7 a.m. – 7 p.m.: Find Psychedelics Today on the expo floor at Booth 834.
Cost: Free with Conference Pass Registration not required.
8 a.m. – 9 a.m.:Your Psychedelic Morning Show. Brought to you by Psychedelics Today Co-Founder Joe Moore and The New Health Club Founder Anne Philippi on the Marketplace Stage. Join us for surprise guests, unexpected questions, and wake-up calls!
Cost: Free with Conference Pass Registration not required.
11 a.m. – 12 p.m.: Pain and Psychedelics Association (PPA) Meetup. Join Joe Moore and Court Wing for a presentation in the PS2023Press Room.
Cost: Free with Conference Pass Registration not required.
6:30 p.m. – 10 p.m.: Explore ceremonial filmmaking with Entheogenic Roots – Indigenous Origins of Psychedelic Culture for a trailer screening and Q&A with Producer Youchanan Russel, with musical performances and more at Lounge CashoM.
Cost: Donation-based Registration required: Registration is now closed.
Friday, June 23
6:30 a.m. – 8 a.m.: Calling all early birds! Join us for theMindful Miles 5k run with Heroic Hearts Project, in an event benefiting veterans and their families to overcome military trauma.
Cost: $50 Registration required: Registration is now closed.
7 a.m. – 7 p.m.: Find Psychedelics Today on the expo floor at Booth 834.
Cost: Free with Conference Pass Registration not required.
8 a.m. – 9 a.m.:Your Psychedelic Morning Show. Brought to you by Psychedelics Today Co-Founder Joe Moore and The New Health Club Founder Anne Philippi on the Marketplace Stage. Join us for surprise guests, unexpected questions, and wake-up calls!
Cost: Free with Conference Pass Registration not required.
Psychedelics are a fascinating class of compounds that have potent effects on our consciousness. After a multi-decade hiatus, scientific research on psychedelics has now resumed with full force. One field that has rapidly developed in recent years is psychedelic neuroscience, which applies the cutting-edge frameworks and tools of modern neuroscience to understand how psychedelics affect the brain and nervous system to elicit their profound effects. The latest findings from this breakthrough field have increasingly spilled into popular culture and are often profiled in the media – it’s now commonplace to hear terms like ‘default mode network’ and ‘neuroplasticity’ casually thrown around when discussing psychedelics and their effects.
However, much of the research is quite technical, and typical media treatments are often either highly simplistic and watered-down, or plainly inaccurate and sensationalistic. Most people just don’t have the necessary background to properly understand and communicate findings beyond repeatable buzzwords and trickle-down narratives.
It’s easy to wonder: what’s the practical relevance of psychedelic neuroscience for psychotherapy or for individuals navigating their own psychedelic experiences?
Don’t Worry – It’s Only Temporary
Understanding the science of psychedelics can be really helpful for therapists and clinicians preparing their clients for psychedelic experiences, and helping clients conceptualize and understand their experiences afterward. Psychedelic experiences can sometimes be quite overwhelming and hard to make sense of. It can be challenging to experience the profound alterations of consciousness they can elicit, which span from complex dream-like images and vivid memory recall, to ego-dissolving mystical-type effects, to perceptual distortions and synesthesia.
By reminding and reassuring clients that the intense effects they are experiencing are directly related to temporary changes in brain activity, clients may be less concerned that they are “gone without return” or that there is something inherently “wrong” or “bad” about their experience. It can also provide a useful model or framework to ground and interpret what emerges during their journey. They can rest assured that no matter how radical and reality-shattering their psychedelic experience is, it’s being underpinned by temporary changes in how brain regions are communicating and interacting over time.
Predicting the Unpredictable
Research has found that an individual’s psychological traits and brain characteristics can help predict the nature of their psychedelic experience, as well as the likelihood that they might experience long-lasting therapeutic benefits. The principles of ‘set and setting’ are deeply ingrained in psychedelic therapies, and signify the integral role that context plays in determining therapeutic outcomes. ‘Set’ concerns one’s mental and emotional state immediately before the psychedelic experience, encompassing such facets as personality and mood. Meanwhile, ‘setting’ pertains to the physical, social, and cultural milieu in which the psychedelic is taken. Given that traits and moods have been shown to correspond with differences in brain function, it is likely that brain structure and function may prove effective in predicting subjective effects and treatment response. This ‘precision medicine’ approach – using brain markers to forecast how individuals will respond to a given drug – has been applied to antidepressants and ADHD medications, providing a precedent for such a strategy in the realm of psychedelic therapy.
Their findings also appear to suggest that priming subjects to reduce theta power before taking a serotonergic psychedelic may help increase the depth of their mystical experience. For example, an individual could reduce theta with neurofeedback training, in which feedback from an EEG headset would allow them to modulate their brain activity to achieve a desired brain and psychological state. Although further research is required before any definitive conclusions can be drawn, emerging research like this suggests that capturing information about brain states – beyond what can be subjectively reported – may prove to be a valuable tool in predicting an individual’s psychological readiness for a psychedelic experience.
The Nuances of Psychedelically Boosted Neuroplasticity
The proliferation of interest in serotonergic psychedelics, MDMA, and ketamine is in no small part due to their remarkable ability to act as ‘psychoplastogens’ – compounds that enhance neuroplasticity in the brain. Neuroplasticity refers to the ways in which neurons in the brain change their connections with each other or create new ones, which is critical for the brain’s ability to learn, adapt to new experiences, and recover from injury. Psychedelics’ ability to enhance neuroplasticity has frequently been highlighted as central in eliciting therapeutic effects across a range of mood disorders and stress-related conditions such as depression, anxiety, and PTSD, which makes sense because impaired neuroplasticity has been reported for all of these disorders.
Research in rodents has suggested that, generally, for most psychedelics, the period between six and 72 hours post-psychedelic experience is when neuroplasticity is at its highest.
However, changes may last for much longer. For instance, LSD has been shown to promote the expression of neuroplasticity-related genes in rodents even one month after treatment had ceased. More and more research is being conducted on these effects, but there is clear practical relevance for clinicians, therapists, and everyday people. Understanding the nuances of psychedelically boosted neuroplasticity – including how long the effects last and where in the brain they occur for a given substance – is critical for designing optimal integration practices.
An in-depth understanding of psychedelic neuroscience can serve as a valuable tool for therapists and individuals seeking to navigate the intricate and potentially transformative realm of psychedelics. Familiarity with scientific research can empower practitioners to tailor their approach to preparation, the acute experience itself, and integration, thus optimizing therapeutic outcomes.
What’s more, the field of psychedelic neuroscience is profoundly intriguing and sometimes referred to as the “quantum mechanics” of neuroscience – neuroscientists are exploring the frontiers of consciousness with a cutting-edge discipline, and unearthing fascinating gems along the way. For example, did you know that psychedelics can enhance the firing rate of excitatory neurons in rodents’ prefrontal cortex by an astounding 481% over baseline, significantly altering communication throughout brain networks? Did you know that research is uncovering that the brain effects of psychedelics might also be tightly linked to our immune system and microbiome, with relevance to mental health? Or that both MDMA and LSD increase oxytocin levels, which plays a role in social bonding?
These and other fascinating discoveries will be covered in our upcoming eight-week course, “Psychedelic Neuroscience Demystified: How Psychedelics Alter Consciousness and Produce Therapeutic Effects.” This course was designed to be accessible to clinicians, therapists, and curious everyday people, making students well-versed in this emerging field, giving them the ability to understand new findings, put them into practice, and be informed participants in ongoing discussions.
The Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) is hosting its fourth Psychedelic Science conference this summer: Monday to Friday, June 19 to 23, at the Colorado Convention Center in Denver.
With over 10,000 expected guests, never before has the global psychedelic community gathered at this scale.
Evolution of the Psychedelic Science Conference
Since 1990, MAPS has organized gatherings to support psychedelic research. These events have strengthened the global psychedelic community, occasioning new research collaborations, business partnerships, and lifelong friendships.
MAPS Founder Rick Doblin, Ph.D., and Alise Agar Wittine, Coordinator at the Omega Foundation San Francisco, initiated the first single-day gathering, “Regulation or Prohibition: Psychedelics in the 1990s,” at the start of that decade. Psychedelic luminaries Ram Dass, Terence McKenna, Ralph Metzner, Timothy Leary, Laura Huxley, and Native American Church President Emerson Jackson all spoke at the initial event.
Over the next 27 years, MAPS organized the 1993 Psychedelic Summit, the 2006 MAPS 20th anniversary celebration at Burning Man, the first Psychedelic Science conference in 2010, followed by Psychedelic Science 2013. Finally, Psychedelic Science 2017 took the conference to new heights, hosting over 3,000 attendees and hundreds of talks, vendors and exhibitors, film screenings, entertainment acts, and community forums.
As an event both responsive to and generative of the rising interest in psychedelics, MAPS’ Psychedelic Science conference has proved to be in a fractal relationship with the field itself – growing and changing as the field grows and changes.
And there has been growth indeed in the five years since PS17. Regulated adult use of psychedelics is no longer just a policy goal: it is underway in Oregon and Colorado. Mainstream audiences are tuning in, and many have been seeking out ketamine clinics to treat mental health conditions. Even once-unbudgeable federal attitudes could be softening.
Psychedelic Science 2023 aims to cover it all.
Psychedelic Science 2023
To provide orientation in the deluge of exciting talks, the conference’s 300-plus speakers have been sorted into multiple tracks: therapy, clinical trials, studies, science, business, veterans, policy, society, and plant medicines. Attendees can pick their own adventure.
The Business track will take a close look at the state of the industry. Executives and entrepreneurs will have a chance to tap into the thriving network of industry wisdom while considering the big question: how can we steward a culture of cooperation and reciprocity in this new field, and even “psychedelicize” our idea of business itself?
The Clinical Trials, Science, and Studies tracks will provide that nourishing chicken soup of psychedelic conferences: updates from the latest clinical research and neuroscience findings, and considerations for future studies and study design.
The Plant Medicine and Society tracks offer an opportunity to explore and celebrate ancient ceremonial traditions and underground communities. How can we match the healing potential of plant allies with ethics, reciprocity, and harm reduction practices?
The Policy track will explore the front edges of drug policy reform, including updates from federal-level reform efforts, and the challenges and opportunities of implementing psychedelic legislation in Colorado and Oregon.
Finally, attendees invested in the intersection of psychedelic treatments with veteran populations, as well as first responders and athletes, will have a chance to hear from Super Bowl champion quarterback Aaron Rodgers and combat veteran Jesse Gould, among others, on the Veteran track.
Community Building
Through over half a century of prohibition, the psychedelic community has kept its fire lit through small and often clandestine meetings and underground networks. But things are changing. With psychedelic conferences happening year-round across North America and Europe, it’s easier than ever to connect.
Psychedelic Science 2023 aims to create something more special still. With thousands expected to descend on Denver in June, the event will bring together folks of all stripes from across the world. A gathering of this scale represents a chance to step out of our digital environments and truly experience the strength and diversity of the growing field. It is a chance to participate in the community it offers, and to have a say in its unfolding culture and values.
To this end, the conference will offer a number of networking spaces, including a dedicated community partner stage for the many local psychedelic societies, non-profit educational and advocacy groups, harm reduction services, and indie media efforts supporting the conference. These are the groups setting a high bar for the field’s values and creativity.
And these are the groups running the conference nightlife, because friends aren’t made by sitting next to strangers in auditoriums! From Psychedelic Drag Bingo, to a 5k run with veterans, to grad student mixers, to cacao ceremonies, to end-of-week dance parties, PS23 will have endless opportunities to connect.
Many come for the talks and panels, but those who know, know. This is where the magic happens.
The Start of A New Era
The legacy members of the psychedelic community have seen this field reach a public recognition that many did not anticipate in their lifetime. Among those who made this possible, few may be as significant as Stanislav Grof, MD, and Roland R. Griffiths, Ph.D. Both will be present at the conference.
Stanislav Grof is best known for his work with LSD extending back to the 1950s, as well as his development of holotropic breathwork. It is hard to overestimate his influence on psychedelic research and integration practices. He will give the conference’s opening address.
Roland Griffiths’ research on psilocybin and consciousness at Johns Hopkins University is often cited as igniting the current renaissance of psychedelic research. Recently, he has reflected publicly about his cancer diagnosis. He will be guiding some of the Science track sessions, and will be present for a three-course dinner in his honor.
For these two luminaries, PS23 may mark their last major public appearances. Indeed, with so many other prominent psychedelic figures present – including Dennis McKenna, Ph.D., Amanda Feilding, Paul Stamets, Rick Doblin, James Fadiman, and William Richards, Ph.D. – the event may be the last time this particular generation of psychedelic elders find themselves under one roof.
This is a chance for attendees to mark the end of an era, and to celebrate the start of a new one.
Register Today
Registration for Psychedelic Science 2023 is still open. Visit the website for a detailed event agenda, speaker lineup, and to register. Use code PT15 for 15% off tickets on checkout.
This post is part of a 2023 media sponsorship between Psychedelic Science 2023 and Psychedelics Today.
Have you attended a psychedelic industry conference over the past few years? Gone are the days of few-and-far-between events, and the lone, massive annual psychedelic happening that one simply must attend if they want to keep up on new research and development. It’s 2023, and the psychedelic conference circuit has become a bonafide industry in and of itself.
With dozens of new psychedelic-focused events springing up ’round the globe in recent years – from Oakland to Reykjavik to Tel Aviv – one can tap into this global network of entrepreneurs, activists, and psychonauts, and really choose their own adventure for the first time in psychedelic history. Interested in learning about the commercializing of psychedelics? Perhaps applying insights to your own life or business ventures? Or how about simply keeping up on what’s happening at the vanguard of the psychedelic industry that’s rapidly evolving (for better or worse)? Chances are, there’s a psychedelic conference for that.
My Psychedelic Conference History
I first became aware of the mainstream psychedelic industry conference circuit when I attended the Horizons: Perspectives on Psychedelics conference in New York City in 2022. For those unaware, Horizons is the longest-running psychedelic conference in the world (15 years and counting!), and for a long time, was unmatched in its size and scope.
The day before Horizons’ official programming started, I was invited to a pre-party hosted by journalists Josh Hardman and Shayla Love at Shayla’s apartment in New York City. I counted my lucky stars for my extroverted personality, as I found myself awkwardly wedging into established circles and cliques of prolific psychedelic journalists, academics, and entrepreneurs who all seemed to know each other already. Curious about how they all became friends, I asked how everyone seemed to know each other so well. Without skipping a beat, three people simultaneously answered: “Conferences!”
The psychedelic conference circuit has become the place to connect with, learn alongside, and build a meaningful sense of global psychedelic community that is arguably impossible to establish or replicate quite as intimately in a digital environment.
Admittedly, when I launched the Mycopreneur Podcast in January 2021, I had never heard of any of these conferences. Despite being a deeply committed psychonaut and media producer since 2006, I was unaware of the existence of psychedelic conferences until I was invited to Meet Delic in November 2021.
Since then, I’ve been invited to a number of major conferences as press, moderator, and a panelist, and am set to present at and report on considerably more major international conferences throughout the rest of 2023.
I’ve been to eight major psychedelic industry conferences to date, and another dozen or so well-attended underground conferences and festivals across three countries over the last two years. Here are my top tips for maximizing ROI at psychedelic conferences.
1. Clearly define your goals ahead of time
My first psychedelic conference experience felt like a piñata swinging contest, whereby I blindly maneuvered around in search of my bearings and an actionable game plan. The whole time, I felt like I was a step behind everyone and was unsure of the optimal protocol and conference flow. Luckily, Liana Gillooly of MAPS took me under her wing to help me navigate the numerous conference-adjacent events happening in that week, and to help me infiltrate an exclusive afterparty for the Palo Santo fund where I loaded up on prosciutto and camembert cheese while masquerading as the heir to a Connecticut hedge fund fortune.
I left Horizons feeling like I had one foot in the door of the ‘psychedelic industry in-crowd’ (which, yes, is a thing) and recognized the value of investing in attending conferences at all.
When the opportunity surfaced to join the press corps at Wonderland in Miami one month later, I jumped on every connection I had in the area to make it happen. This time, I was ready.
I clearly defined my goal for the event: meet as many people as possible, and get contact info for the ones that resonated with me. I take a shotgun approach to networking, which is more of a benign tactical strategy than a hostage situation, but I whittle down the ‘call to action’ group for following up after the conference with people that I really see myself building and collaborating with.
I managed to connect with at least 100 people at Wonderland in face-to-face conversations and afterparties, and I followed up with a few dozen of them after the event. Some of these meetings and connections have prospered into ongoing friendships and business relationships that have returned great value to my life and platform.
What are your goals? Expanding your network? Finding sales leads? Or simply to make more sense of psychedelics and learn? Write them down. Look at your goal statement periodically throughout the event – does the way that you’re tackling the conference, the presentations and panels you’re taking in, and the people you’re spending time with align with your goals? If not, adjust. Rinse, and repeat.
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2. Get real about your budget and resources
Conferences can be extremely expensive. If you can’t afford to make the trip and you don’t have an employer backing you, they’re 100% hackable – if you’re resourceful.
I’ve rented Airbnbs one hour away from a conference and commuted on public transport because it was all I could justify affording. Sleep on people’s couches and air mattresses if you have to. I’ve eaten bread and hummus from the grocery store on many occasions, skipped meals, and even better, loaded up on deli meat and cheese from platters at afterparties. Like anything, you get out of these events what you put into them – so eschew any sense of expectation or entitlement, and focus on defining why you’re there in the first place and executing on your game plan while leaving some room open for spontaneity and the magic of psychedelic community.
Prior to Wonderland, I reached out to Miami psychedelic community stalwart Ray Oracca of Moksha Arts Collective, who had extended an open invite to me to do stand-up comedy at their art gallery earlier in the year. Once I made a deal to stay at the Moksha studio for a week in exchange for a stand up performance, I used credit card points to book the cheapest, most inconvenient flight I could find to Miami. I think I had seven layovers en route, and three of them were in Las Vegas. I didn’t even have a ticket when I showed up, banking on finagling my way in by insisting that I was related to Bob Parsons. The day before the conference kicked off, an unexpected VIP pass showed up with my name on it thanks to Ray and the Moksha community. This type of magic happens more than you can plan for on the conference circuit, and plenty of people arrive at a conference without a ticket and capitalize on the networking and afterparties that surround the event. Almost every event has room for volunteers, media, and programming support, so offer yourself up.
Do you have the finances to afford attending the event? If not, will your employer support your trip? If all else fails, ask yourself: “who do I know, and what can I offer that could help fund my event experience?”
3. Find the others
This is probably the most important angle of the conference circuit. At SXSW in Austin earlier this year (which was jam-packed with psychedelic programming), I was so overwhelmed and baffled by the first half of day one that I considered going back to my friend’s house and spending the day with his dog instead. It took everything in me to come to terms with the madhouse frenetic environment of the convention center and downtown Austin; I spent two hours sitting cross-legged on the floor trying to ground myself by chanting the mantra “psychedelic renaissance” over and over until it became a meaningless verbal Rorschach test.
This all changed when I connected with my friend Peter Vitale, who is an excellent steward of community and psychedelic lawyer (which is actually a more sober and jurisprudential vocation than Hunter S. Thompson’s attorney in Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas would have you believe – though there are certainly some overlapping elements).
Peter got me dialed in to the wider and more connected community of psychedelic industry folks who were at SXSW, as opposed to the more scatterbrained approach I was taking wherein I just kept attaching myself to the fringes of Paul Stamets’ entourage. Connecting with a critical mass of aligned people is key to a successful conference experience. Finding likeminded people enables you to move with the ebb and flow of the group, and to break off into satellite groups with one or two people at a time for side quests as you see fit.
This is a big one for many people hoping to build and scale their networks and businesses. I learned this one the hard way in my early days navigating the music and entertainment industry, when I shot my shot far too often without any sense of connection or community framework to the people I was pitching myself to. Quentin Tarantino doesn’t care that your new script has a scene where he gets anally probed by proboscis monkeys with AI capabilities when he’s just trying to have a nice dinner out with his family in Tribeca, and the same principle rings true among the psychedelic conference circuit movers and shakers.
I’ve seen the same thing happen time and again as this industry continues to ascend, but this time, I’m the one who receives the unsolicited pitches and million-dollar ideas that sound far better on ketamine than on paper. It’s best to build rapport with people and communities first before trying to sell them on your project – people buy into you as much (if not more) than what you’re working on, so establishing trust and relationships is key. Be patient. As you continue to hone your network, you may find yourself invited into projects and opportunities that serve to strengthen and add value to your own work.
5. Pace your partying
I learned this one the hard way after Wonderland. I actually quit drinking largely because of my experience at the Wonderland afterparties. Open bars and a taste for mezcal are awesome for stags and the Gathering of the Juggalos, but not always great for professional networking. This, of course, depends on your intention that you’ve clearly stated as your reason for being at a conference (see tip #1). Considering my standard goal is to effectively and meaningfully network and add value to other people’s organizations while elevating my own platform (and also to pick up new satire material, because I can’t switch that part of my brain off anymore and industry types are often unintentionally hilarious), blacking out and rambling about boofing Hape on camera for a professional film crew at an exclusive afterparty sponsored by a high-profile company is, arguably, detrimental to the cause. I’ve seen this kind of thing happen a lot, and while some may not hold it against you, it’s probably not the look you’re going for. Don’t be the person from the afterparty everyone talks about the next day.
In parallel, it’s essential to stay hydrated, on point, and ready to pivot at any moment. Opportunities arise on the fly, and you need to be positioned to jump on them. During events, I’ve received many unpredictable invites to meetings or opportunities that require precise timing and preparedness, so I’ve learned that my phone must always have a charged battery, and that I’m ready to jump in an Uber or navigate to a second location at a moment’s notice. You can’t do that when you’re busy staring in disbelief at galactic swirls in your fingerprints all night.
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At each subsequent conference I’ve attended, I’ve refined my approach to include eliminating alcohol and substance consumption from afterparties to stay sharp and on the ball. I’m usually a solo macrodose tripper, and conferences give me all the social fulfillment I need without surrendering my consciousness to a trustafarian shaman with a Hape applicator and really good MDMA.
As Salvador Dali said: “I don’t do drugs. I am drugs.” Okay, fine. I’ll try some of your mushroom chocolate if you twist my arm.
6. Find the WhatsApp and Signal Groups
There’s virtually always some kind of group chat thread where invitations to the afterparties and unique events that are not officially announced anywhere are posted. If you see someone who works with an established psychedelic company, flag them down and naively inquire about the existence of such a group. Use blackmail if you have to. It’s great to have an overview of the conference atmosphere and what people are doing, and you can take and leave the invitations to panels, parties, and events as you see fit. You don’t have to go to everything, but if you don’t know, you can’t go.
7. Carve out time for 1 x 1 meetings and collaborations
Going to lunch with people, building personal relationships, and dreaming up plans and projects together is what it’s all about for me. The best way to bypass the digital age of impersonal queries and project proposals is to meet people IRL. I’ve sowed the seeds of projects during five-minute conversations with people at conferences that have taken over a year to manifest. If you can steal a few minutes away to eat meatball sundaes with Kyle Buller while the Psychedelics Team shops for rugs at IKEA before Cannadelic Miami, do it.
Get people’s phone numbers and keep in touch with them. Don’t just hit people up when you need something from them or want to sell them on something. If you have a chat about pygmy elephants with someone at a conference, and you click, then text them the next time pygmy elephants come up in your life (this happens surprisingly often in my world). Text or call people on their birthdays, show an interest in what they’re doing, and look to add value to their lives and be a resource rather than trying to extract value from them.
I can’t over-emphasize the importance of showing up wherever you can. Take a leap of faith and put yourself out there.
Hit the Ground Running
Are you looking for an upcoming psychedelic happening to attend or support in 2023? Psychedelics Today wants to see YOU at these great upcoming events:
DiscoveryCon 2023: Taking place on April 18 – 19 in the Bay Area, this gathering of the psychedelic community includes an impressive lineup of speakers including Robin Carhart-Harris, Hamilton Morris, and Bia Labate. DiscoveryCon will be held on Bicycle Day, the anniversary of the first intentional LSD trip taken by Dr. Albert Hofmann (use code PSYCTODAY for 30% off tickets).
Breaking Convention: Europe’s largest psychedelic consciousness conference is happening April 20 – 22 in Exeter, U.K. Breaking Convention offers groundbreaking research and insights across disciplines such as human and social sciences, law, politics, art, history, and philosophy (use code PSYCHTODAYBC10 for 10% off tickets).
Trailblazers NYC: Happening April 24 – 25 in New York City, Trailblazers brings together entrepreneurs, investors, and other leaders in the psychedelic industry.
PsyCon: Scheduled to take place in Portland, OR from May 19 – 20, this event will focus on the emerging psilocybin market in Oregon, featuring speakers including Lamar Odom, Yolanda Clarke, and Del Potter. A second PsyCon event is being held in the fall (from Sept. 29 – 30 in Denver, CO.)
Psychedelic Science 2023: Organized by the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS), Psychedelic Science is set to be one of the longest-ever psychedelic conferences. Held from June 19 – 23 in Denver, CO the event features research on psychedelics, therapeutic uses of psychedelics, and the impact of psychedelics on society (use code PT15 for 15% off tickets).
Psychedelics, once heavily restricted for research, are now being rigorously tested through clinical trials to explore their potential therapeutic benefits. But how are women represented in the search to uncover the efficacy of psychedelic medicines?
While the inclusion of women in psychedelic clinical trials is clearly important – both to understand the effects of these medicines on all genders as well as to develop effective treatments for conditions that primarily affect women – women have historically been underrepresented in clinical trials.
Why has this become the norm? Is it because women aren’t as available as men to participate in studies? Or perhaps women don’t suffer from the illnesses being studied as often as men?
Spoiler: it’s neither.
The Clinical Trial Process – An Overview
The clinical trial process is, largely, a series of research studies that evaluate the safety and effectiveness of new drugs, treatments, or medical devices on human subjects. To fit into a pharmaceutical model, a.k.a. develop a drug or treatment protocol that clinicians can prescribe and health insurance will cover, psychedelic medicines must follow the same clinical trial process that all new drugs and treatments undergo.
If it seems like there’s a new clinical trial announced each week – from psilocybin for depression to MDMA for PTSD to LSD for cluster headaches – it’s because these trials are crucial (and non-negotiable) for biotech companies seeking to bring their compounds and modalities to market. These trials aim to prove the effectiveness of a particular compound or method of use, and ultimately secure the holy grail of U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) approval.
Clinical trials are conducted in several phases, each with specific goals:
Phase 1: A small number of healthy volunteers receive the drug or treatment to evaluate its safety and determine the appropriate dosage.
Phase 2: A larger group of volunteers with the condition that the drug or treatment is designed to treat receive the treatment to assess its effectiveness and side effects.
Phase 3: An even larger group of volunteers with the condition receive the treatment in a randomized and controlled study to confirm its effectiveness and monitor side effects.
Phase 4: The drug or treatment is approved and marketed for public use, and ongoing studies continue to monitor its long-term safety and effectiveness.
Throughout the clinical trial process, participants are closely monitored and data is collected to evaluate the drug or treatment’s safety, efficacy, and potential side effects.
The objective was to avoid unforeseen birth defects in babies born to women in clinical trials. The result, however, is that most currently prescribed medications were approved by the FDA before 1993 – which means they’re prescribed to women and men at the same dose and were unlikely to have adequate representation of women in their clinical trials.
Francesca Minale, President of Vici Health Sciences and an expert at working with the FDA to bring new medications through clinical trials to approval, says the lack of gender differentiation in dosing persists despite known differences in disease states by gender.
“There is a lack of incorporation of gender data and generic specific dosing and administration on FDA-approved prescription labels,” said Minale. “This gender bias in the research needs to be addressed, especially as it is well documented that many diseases, such as mental health or heart disease, are recognized to have gender differences.”
Excluding women from early-stage clinical trials led to a vast shortage of data around how today’s drugs affect women – a knowledge gap that scientists are still trying to fill. Even though the NIH now requires women to be included in all clinical research funded by the government agency, there are still many criteria that make it difficult for women to participate in clinical trials.
Women in Psychedelic Clinical Trials
The results of clinical trials play a critical role in informing regulatory decisions about whether to approve new medicines for widespread use. However, in the past, clinical trials often failed to accurately reflect the populations they intended to serve – especially women.
As psychedelic clinical trials seek to determine the safety and efficacy of new psychedelic treatments, it’s imperative we learn from past mistakes. A recent study identified 86 medications approved by the FDA that are more likely to cause complications for women than men.
But yet it’s common practice to prescribe equal doses of medications to men and women – contributing to the overmedication of women and female-biased adverse drug reactions.
In fact, because women were excluded from many pivotal clinical trials, many drugs have been withdrawn from the market or have had their labels changed to include warnings about increased risks for women after they were already approved by the FDA and widely used.
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Modern Barriers to Women’s Participation in Clinical Trials
Amy Reichelt, Ph.D.,Director of Neuropharmacology at Cybin explained, “In early-stage clinical trials (i.e., Phase 1) where drugs are tested in healthy volunteers, key inclusion/exclusion criteria can bias genders tested.”
Typical protocol wording includes: “Women of childbearing potential (WOCBP) must be non-lactating and have a negative pregnancy test. Females who are not WOCBP must be either surgically sterile or post-menopausal.” Reichelt said. “This immediately excludes a number of women, particularly when age ranges of trials can have cut-offs of 55-60 years.”
Moreover, it is often written into the trial protocol that a woman of childbearing potential must agree to practice an effective means of birth control/contraception during their participation in the clinical trial, and following the trial for several months. This could impact individuals who are trying to start a family for many months, again discouraging women from participating.
Reichelt pointed out, “Later stage trials (i.e., Phase 2b, Phase 3) can be less restrictive as they are testing in patient populations and initial safety tests are fulfilled in the healthy volunteers in early stage trials, but still there are often requirements for contraceptive use that fall upon the women’s responsibility.”
In addition, body weight restrictions may also prevent women from participating if they are below the protocol threshold i.e., less than 60 kg/132 pounds.
Biological Gender Differences and Why They Matter
The differences between the sexes in circulating levels of sex hormones, such as testosterone and estradiol, can affect pharmacokinetic or pharmacodynamic parameters – which help determine how the drug is absorbed, distributed and metabolized in the body, and how the drug affects the body, Reichelt explained.
Body composition can impact how a drug is processed and eliminated from the body, too. “Women typically have a lower body weight than men, so when the same dose of a drug results in a higher level of drug circulating by body weight. As women generally have a greater body fat content than men, some drugs can be distributed through the body differently,” said Reichelt.
The impact of sex can differ across life stages, too. After menopause, the reduction of estrogen can alter aspects of brain plasticity. Preclinical studies have shown that at the neuronal level, estrogen can increase the density of dendritic spines.
This brain phenomena may subtly affect mood and cognition during a woman’s estrous cycle, and could affect clinical outcomes. More studies are needed to fully understand these impacts, especially when it comes to psychedelic medicines which are closely tied to brain plasticity and dendritic spines.
“We don’t yet have a clear understanding of how different biological factors, such as hormonal fluctuations, including menstrual cycle and menopause, may impact the psychedelic experience. However, it does seem that psychedelics may have an impact on menstrual function,” she said.
Gukasyan co-authored a recent study published in the Journal of Psychoactive Drugs on the impact of psychedelics on menstrual function. While the study looked at only three women ranging from 27 to 34 years of age, the results were significant enough to warrant more research.
“Although phenomena related to menstrual and reproductive function have been largely overlooked in the psychedelic literature to date, these effects may have therapeutic utility and warrant further study,” the study concluded.
Where To Go From Here
In the field of psychedelic medicine, where compounds are being extensively studied scientifically for the first time, the underrepresentation of women in clinical trials could have serious consequences for the safety and efficacy of these treatments. Without data on the experiences of women, it is impossible to accurately assess the potential benefits and risks of these new medicines before bringing them to the masses.
By working to increase the representation of women in clinical trials for psychedelics, we can help to ensure that these treatments are developed in a way that is safe, effective, and equitable for all.
Thankfully, many psychedelic clinical trials are moving forward with this ethos. For example, two-thirds of the participants in the MAPS’ Phase 2 and 3 clinical trials of MDMA therapy for the treatment of PTSD were women.
Rick Doblin, the founder of MAPS, said, “When it comes to PTSD, we talk a lot about the veterans, but it’s mostly women who are sexually abused or have childhood traumas that have PTSD. I think that the media attention on veterans sort of distracts people from the understanding that it’s mostly women that we are treating. Two-thirds of the people in the [MAPS] study are women.”
Other groups conducting clinical trials actively seeking women participants include Psycheceutical Bioscience, which has partnered with clinical research organization (CRO) iNGENū in Australia to conduct its Phase 1 and Phase 2 trials of a topical ketamine cream to treat PTSD.
“iNGENū takes gender balance in clinical trials very seriously and the diversity of participants is one of the key metrics we strive to achieve. We naturally want our clinical trials to recruit participants who closely match the intended population who will benefit from the drug when it is eventually approved,” said iNGENū CEO Dr. Sud Agarwal.
Women-Only Trials
While the inclusion of women in psychedelic clinical trials is critical to the success of this new paradigm in medicine, there’s also a whole realm of largely untapped research on the benefits of psychedelics for health conditions experienced only by women.
Felicity Pharma is a psychedelic biotech company focused on women’s health that’s secured a proprietary psilocybin-based drug for premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD), a very severe form of premenstrual syndrome that affects up to 10 percent of women globally as well as postpartum depression.
Olivia Mannix, Felicity Pharma co-founder and CEO, said “We are passionate about transforming women’s healthcare. Women have been traditionally excluded from clinical trials because of hormonal fluctuations and general biological makeup. We are making a stand to develop female-focused therapeutics, where women will be the only patients used in trials.”
As the psychedelic movement expands, with surmounting research serving to change the tide of public opinion, more people are seeking out psychedelics as modalities for healing and self-exploration. Whether in the context of psychedelic-assisted therapy, plant medicine ceremonies, or recreational use, the modern Western psychedelic discourse has long been interwoven with the concept of “set and setting.”
But in contemporary psychedelic culture, the term is no longer sufficient as a harm reduction mantra. How can it be updated to better serve today’s journeyers?
A Brief History of Set and Setting
“Set and setting” refer to many factors which extend beyond the psychoactive effects of a given substance, playing a vital role in shaping psychedelic experiences. Typically, “set” refers to the mindset of a psychedelic explorer and “setting” refers to the context in which a substance is taken.
However, there has been little development of which variables fall under the umbrella of set and setting since its conception in the 1960s. There are significant factors that shape a psychedelic experience – both acutely and in the long term – which aren’t fully captured by set and setting alone.
The concept of set and setting has become something of a harm reduction mantra interwoven with the emergent field of psychedelic-assisted therapy and psychedelic research at large, used to describe the ways in which factors that extend beyond the substance itself can impact and shape its effects. Accordingly, it’s been an impactful linguistic tool that therapists, researchers and explorers have looked to for guidance on curating a container for an experience with medicine.
“Set” commonly refers to an individual’s mindset, including both immediate and long-range states of mind. A person’s immediate set is related to their state of mind before a psychedelic session, including everything from intentions, fears, hopes, and expectations about the session. However, their long-range set might include enduring personality traits, personal history and formative life experiences, social identities, and mental health history.
“Setting” commonly refers to the container of the experience, which includes the physical and social environment within which a substance is ingested, factoring into account when and where it will take place. Thus, setting may include aspects such as music, whether it takes place outdoors or indoors, the decor/props in the session room, as well as the relationships between others present.
The concept of set and setting does not exist independently of culture, with the sociocultural context of set including, but not limited to, race, economic status, strength of relationships with others, and the individual’s access to and relationship with nature.
Timothy Leary, 1960s counterculture icon and ex-Harvard lecturer in clinical psychology, is generally given credit for popularizing the concept of set and setting through his emphasis on the importance of both in shaping psychedelic experiences.
In the cult classic, The Psychedelic Experience, Leary together with his colleagues Ralph Metzner and Richard Alpert reflected, “Of course, the drug dose does not produce the transcendent experience. It merely acts as a chemical key – it opens the mind, frees the nervous system of its ordinary patterns and structures. The nature of the experience depends almost entirely on set and setting.”
To a large extent, the notion of set and setting within Western culture has been shaped and inspired by the ways in which Indigenous cultures around the world ingest psychoactive plant medicines in contexts bound by ritual, ceremonial objects, music, relationship with the land, and cosmological interpretive frameworks.
Compared with Indigenous cultures, Western culture has a bias against the use of psychoactive substances, and despite evidence that the peoples of Europe once used psychoactive plants ritualistically, such traditions have been long forgotten. Cultural frameworks determine the lens through which psychedelic experience is interpreted, and the lack of a cultural context, beyond that of prohibition, within which to make sense of psychedelics in the global North has produced a need for the ongoing formulation of set and setting.
More recently, Ido Hartogsohn, assistant professor at the program for Science, Technology & Society at Bar-llan University, has been conducting research on set and setting, exploring the ways in which psychedelic experiences are shaped by society and culture. In 2017, Hartogsohn published a paper outlining the history of set and setting, pointing out that although the term is often credited to Leary, its roots extend further back.
He explains how members of the Club des Hashischins, translated as “Club of the Hashish Eaters,” a Parisian group dedicated to exploring psychoactive-induced experiences in the 1840s, gave emphasis to what he calls factors beyond the substance itself. When Timothy Leary began his research with psilocybin in 1960, he exchanged letters with English author Aldous Huxley, who shared an excerpt written by one of the club’s members, Théophile Gautier, in which Gautier explores the necessity of preparation and going into a hashish experience with a “tranquil frame of mind and body.”
In addition, Hartogsohn suggests that having a better understanding of set and setting could serve as a form of harm reduction as well as benefit enhancement, highlighting that “the discourse on set and setting had remained largely underdeveloped over the years.”
An Expanded Vision: Set, Setting, and Support
Considering the growing mainstream emergence of psychedelics, set and setting alone is no longer sufficient as a harm reduction mantra, nor is it sufficient as a guidepost for the benefit maximization of psychedelic therapy and research. We argue that as a matter of public health, this mantra must evolve into “set, setting and support.”
No doubt that the proliferation of positive results from clinical studies being conducted on psychedelics, alongside countless mainstream articles detailing their healing benefits with promising headlines like “The Psychedelic Revolution Is Coming. Psychiatry May Never Be the Same,” are driving increasing numbers of people experimenting with psychedelic substances.
Despite the undeniable healing benefits of psychedelics, media discourse around them is sometimes dressed in sensationalist language, serving to construct psychedelics as miracle cures for all mental health problems. This premise is misleading and does not highlight the innumerable challenges that present themselves around the psychedelic experience.
One evident challenge that may emerge, is that of the psychedelic experience itself. Even when set and setting are controlled, there is no guarantee that challenging content and situations will not present themselves.
“Sometimes active journeyers can find themselves in unsound decision-making states. Having the support of a peer, trip sitter, or facilitator, during an experience can help the explorer navigate their inner state and make adjustments to the setting for maximum comfort and safety,” says Hanifa Nayo Washington, co-founder and Chief of Strategy at Fireside Project, a psychedelic peer support line that provides free, live phone support to individuals actively tripping or looking to process past experiences.
As psychedelic researcher and transpersonal psychologist Stanislav Grof says, psychedelics can be “non-specific amplifiers of mental or psychic processes.” That is, they have the ability to amplify content which is latent in the psyche, bringing up thoughts, emotions, and sense impressions that we were previously unconscious of.
Another challenge that may emerge after the experience relates to the fact that healing is often a messy, non-linear process in which things sometimes get worse before they get better. Anecdotally, there appears a common point of contention around individuals’ expectations going into an experience versus the actual outcome. No doubt, having forms of support already integrated into the process can make such moments of difficulty easier.
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Beyond this, the aftermath of a psychedelic experience can also be destabilizing, as the non-ordinary states of consciousness they elicit serve to catapult us beyond the bounds of our everyday perceptions. In part, it is this very disruption in our normative flow of consciousness that enables psychedelics to be so healing, however, it can also be a simultaneously scary process as we find the foundations of our worldviews and belief systems turned on their heads.
“Psychedelic experiences can invite tremendous dysregulation in the body, mind, and spirit system,” Washington says. “Enlisting post-journey support in the immediate days, weeks, and months that follow a psychedelic experience can significantly ease the process of self-regulating to a ‘new normal’.”
What Can You Do To Seek Support?
Seeking avenues of support is a way to enhance psychedelic preparation, journeys, and integration, with support taking many different forms. One type of support, which may seem more self-evident, is that of socially-based, community support at the interpersonal level.
Despite the fact that psychedelics can elicit feelings of connection and oneness, some who use psychedelics may find themselves feeling alienated and misunderstood. For years, prohibitionist, zero-tolerance policies served to demonize psychedelic substances and those who used them, resulting in a lingering stigma and sense of shame associated with their use. This is especially true for individuals from communities of color who have long faced the impact of the discriminatory enforcement of drug laws, with the war on drugs producing profoundly unequal outcomes across racial groups.
Additionally, spiritual and mystical-type experiences have long been ridiculed and pathologized in Western culture, as they often include elements that are not culturally accepted as objectively real, sometimes resulting in those who have profound transpersonal experiences being dismissed or labeled as “crazy.”
Following a deep spiritual or transpersonal experience in which an individual disconnects from their ego, once they begin folding back into themselves there are layers of their identity or their lives that they may leave behind. This letting go of behaviors and parts of the psyche that are no longer of service can be conceived of as a type of “psychedelic shedding.” Omar Thomas, Founder of Jamaica’s Diaspora Psychedelic Society, CEO of Jamaican Organics and Psychedelics Today Advisory Board member, first formulated the notion of “shedding” in the context of psychedelic integration.
This might relate to one’s job, relationship, identification with a certain religion, sexual identity, or even their gender. When one goes through this shedding process without adequate support, there’s the risk that rather than finding relief from their mental and psychospiritual afflictions, they deepen, due to the many associated implications and consequences of the shedding process.
For example, what happens when someone realizes that the reason for their stress is rooted in their work, but they can’t quit because they won’t be able to support their family otherwise? Or what happens when someone sheds a cis-gendered identity but they’re in a marriage that would fall apart, opening a flurry of difficult, albeit potentially necessary effects?
This shedding process isn’t necessarily a bad one, but it certainly can be without having adequate support present to facilitate and ease the process. Like a butterfly going through its metamorphosis, it needs to be held in a safe container while fragile to emerge on the other side as its fullest and most beautiful expression.
Even today, as psychedelics become increasingly accepted in the mainstream, there is still a residue of stigma that remains. Thus, it is important, when looking for someone to support your journey, to find a non-judgemental, trustworthy person to share the experiences with. For some, this person may materialize in the form of a therapist, counselor, coach, or shamanic guide, while for others it may be a trusted friend or family member.
If support in an individual’s immediate circle is scarce, finding community support could come from connection online or in person with a psychedelic community, many of which offer courses and integration circles. One benefit of finding community online is around connecting with people from a particular social identity group that may not be accessible otherwise. For example, there are now integration circles that cater to individuals who identify as BIPOC, neurodivergent, or queer.
“In preparation for a psychedelic journey, support can look like gathering with a trusted friend, psychedelic facilitator, or support circle, to explore intentions, apprehensions, impressions, and beyond,” Washington says. “This support can increase awareness of one’s inner weather or set. With greater awareness comes the possibility for increased understanding of one’s own needs and knowing.”
Other forms of support include tools and techniques that a psychedelic voyager can draw upon as resources for grounding before, during, and after psychedelic experiences.
No matter the quality of the experience, beyond an intention to reduce the risk of harm, certain practices can be adopted as a way of supporting oneself through moments of discomfort or difficulty, to add a deepened sense of meaning and lasting benefit to the experience. For example, a 2019 study that observed the effects of psychedelics on long-term meditators suggested that the effects of a mindfulness practice may help patients sustain treatment outcomes in the long-term.
One might consider adopting a type of embodiment practice, engaging different aspects of the body in creating deeper self-awareness, balance, and connection. Whether it be a practice rooted somatics or mindfulness, or a more dynamic movement-based practice like yoga or dance, finding ways to become embodied helps to cultivate a deeper relationship with oneself and inner support to fortify your whole being.
Exploring the value of somatic practice, Lauren Taus, therapist practicing Ketamine-assisted Psychotherapy and Founder of Inbodied Psychedelic-Assisted Therapy and Integration Training shares, “Every emotion has a somatic counterpart, a felt sense in the body, which means that developing a daily practice of being in your body and listening to somatic wisdom is essential for healing.”
Support can also manifest by tending to your connection with nature. It can be easy to feel isolated after the depth and intensity of a psychedelic experience, however, the earth and the manifold beings that permeate it can serve as a source of community, providing consistent support through the embodied, knowing you were never alone to begin with.
In our vernacular, we tend to say that we are using psychedelics, but it’s certainly possible that psychedelics are actually using us. When one considers the predictable shift in values developed out of their use, expanding them to the global scale, we can see that not only are psychedelics healing us at the individual level, but are collectively helping to change the course of humanity’s place on earth by allowing us to care more about ourselves, one another, and the earth itself.
As this continues, there will be a never-ending need to increase layers of support for the broader community. Where might you be able to add that missing piece in your community, in your work, or in your personal life? What does it mean for you to evolve beyond set and setting?
I had years of experience in cold water training from my Aikido career, but as my depression had increasingly grown worse, I developed a severe cold intolerance. It had become painful to stand under the shower, with my scalp almost spasming in contraction, when I used to be able to stand in late winter melt-water waterfalls and rivers with ease. But post-dosing, my cold tolerance came roaring back; allowing me to stand under a cold shower for minutes at a time with no numbness and no pain – it was almost like it was happening to someone else or there was a micro-force field on the surface of my skin. I found myself having to leave the shower because I just had other things to do. Cold water tolerance is a gold-standard for measuring pain response in clinical trials, and in fact, later that year, the Department of Psychopharmacology at Maastricht University, sponsored by the Beckley Foundation, conducted the first LSD and pain study in nearly 50 years, showing that low-dose LSD significantly increased cold water tolerance without interfering with day-to-day activities.
I had been known for my mobility and flexibility throughout my career and my ability to train others to achieve the same results, but mine had been compromised for a good while at this point. But the day after my session, I was able to resume positions that I hadn’t been able to comfortably acquire in months, if not years. Movement now felt smooth and effortless once again, and I swear there was even improvement in the tissue quality in areas that had become “crunchy.”
There was also a significant change in my inflammatory baseline. Depression is seen as a disorder that also includes fairly significant neurological inflammation and is often bi-directional with chronic pain, but many of the same receptors that psilocybin operates on are also contained within the gastrointestinal tract, and mine had altered sensation for a month afterward. I believe my systemic inflammation significantly improved during that period because within three months of my dosing, I reacquired personal training records that had become elusive, and by summer, I passed those PRs and set new ones. I also felt incredibly less “puffy.” Accidentally banging into something didn’t hurt anymore and persistent joint aches and lack of motor activation disappeared. There were additional improvements in neurological issues that will be described in a future case study, but that was just as immediate and impactful.
Lockdown Leads to the Lowdown on the First Psychedelic Pain Studies
Within the training and recovery world, patients and trainees can loosely be categorized as super, normal, non, and negative responders. I had stopped being responsive to both training and rehabilitation efforts at the peak of my depression, and was entering negative-responder territory, which was severely distressing. Fascinatingly, I now seem to be trending somewhere between a normal and high responder. I began proclaiming to the researchers at NYU that psychedelics were going to completely change chronic pain treatment within five years. And I also had a secret; the day after my dosing session, I had what’s referred to as a huge download: I realized that if you could consider things like depression, PTSD, and severe anxiety to be nociplastic outputs of the Central Nervous System (CNS) that causes iterative rumination (a.k.a. looping maladaptive outputs), that was no different from the looping maladaptive outputs that characterize chronic pain – the neurology of which I had been studying for years at that point. Due to the extreme visual qualities of the psychedelic experience and the rapidity of my own remission, I saw, in a flash, that since psilocybin was an impact booster for neuroplasticity, it would enhance the impact of mirror box therapy for phantom limb pain or likely any other neuromodulation.
“Remapping” is the term describing the tactic of using visual or other sensory receptor inputs to modify and change nociplastic or noxious/painful outputs of the brain. As this is part of the Z-Health process, I had been introduced to the concept of mirror box therapy years earlier as part of my certifications, but I thought I had come up with a whole new approach and kept it to myself, barely hinting at what I believed I had uncovered. But, since NYC was locked down and I was unable to work, I had nothing to do but go online and research what had happened to me.
Within two weeks or so, I found an old photocopied English abstract from a 1962 study in Japan, by Kuromaru, et al., using low-dose LSD to treat phantom-limb pain with 50% of its participants going into instant remission by the end of their session, and the authors pointedly declaring that stacking the LSD with movement had a far stronger impact on resolving both phantom limb pain and phantom limb syndrome. Stacking inputs is a common practice within the neuromodulation world for pain treatment, often coupling a weaker input with a stronger one, and I realized that this was what had clearly happened to me while I was in my post-dosing neuroplastic window. It finally felt like I was getting traction again; that drills and exercises were once again effective, and crucially, maintaining their own momentum. I didn’t have to be hypervigilant anymore in my daily routine for these drills to become “sticky.” I also realized that the Kuromaru study had, in fact, been released earlier than the Kast study from 1964 investigating the analgesic properties of LSD for terminal cancer and other painful conditions, which is frequently and incorrectly cited as the first psychedelic pain study. I became aware of other previous psychedelic pain studies, as well as recent ones like Dr. Charles Nichols’ work on the anti-inflammatory properties of psychedelics, and studies involving Dr. Robin Carhart-Harris’ REBUS model and cortical reorganization, which is what happens when a stimulus results in the creation of a new cortical map (essentially a vertical column in the brain cortex consisting of neurons performing specific processes).
Both of these discoveries are crucial because cortical reorganization (or remapping) and inflammation are key drivers of chronic pain. Conditions like depression and anxiety are characterized by rigid, fixed beliefs or frameworks where the same negative thought loop keeps reoccurring repeatedly, with no amount of incoming contrary information able to alter that belief. It becomes what’s known as a “strong prior” in neurology, becoming a top-down driven process in the CNS, actively suppressing any bottom-up sensory input error correction. The same mechanisms of action occur with chronic pain, where, despite the healing or resolution of an injury; a rigid, fixed pain signal is continually being sent out by the brain as a maladaptive response of the CNS’ protective suite. These are referred to as nociplastic or noxious neurological conditions. The same is true for multiple chronic pain conditions where inflammation causes maladaptive signaling and perceptions, leading to negative structural or nociplastic changes in the peripheral and central nervous system. In psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy, a non-rigid, chaotic state is induced, which allows the cortical landscape to reorganize into a more efficient and positive state.
Landmark Study in Pain and Psychedelics Confirms Insights
I sat speechless for at least five minutes, shaking my head in a feeling of wonder and disbelief, as if the universe itself had just delivered this paper to me. Other than my remission and the pandemic, I had thought of nothing else but the application of how these two approaches could be combined. Of course someone else had invented it well before me; of course they had. I knew that resourceful, capable people had been working on this for a while, and chronic pain is a singular motivator, but it was still astonishing to see my vision so vividly applied and executed.
Check out this podcast with Court and Joe interviewing Dr. Castellanos and Dr. Timothy Furnish of PHRI!
I had learned in 2015 that cluster headaches had been effectively treated with psilocybin for 25 years, and of mirror box therapy a few years before that. I had even blogged about it because people in the rehab and training communities thought that my using visual inputs to treat pain was so weird they called it “voodoo.” But there is a neural hierarchy, and many pain and performance conditions in the body actually have higher-order components within the visual and vestibular systems. That’s often why, no matter how much manual/physio therapy one does, it is often a downstream compensation within the body in order to reconcile perceptual discrepancies between the visual and vestibular system. The visual system lets you assess the surrounding environment and predict any threats that exist within it, and the vestibular system helps you orient within that space, keeping your body in balance so that you might be able to execute any motor actions in response to any perceived threats. If your eyes are telling you the horizon is 5° tilted to the left, but your vestibular system, a.k.a. your inner ear, is telling you that it’s 5° to the right, your body will compensate so that those discrepancies are reconciled and you maintain a stable, level “sight picture” – your viewscreen of the world. Having an unstable sight picture makes for poor predictions; in other words, in an evolutionary survival context, having a “shaky cam” is not so great for avoiding saber-tooth tigers.
So, those downstream bodily compensations that keep your viewscreen steady are creating distortions and possible maladaptations in the structure of your body, and are now being cemented due to repeated compensatory use. The nervous system will protectively reduce motor output and increase pain perception as a response, to slow you down in order to avoid potential injury and survive another day. Ultimately, the body has evolved towards survival, not performance. And pain is an alarm/action signal designed to keep you alive.
This self-guided class investigates the history, science, and best practices for safe and effective microdosing; hosted by Adam Bramlage, founder of Flow State Micro, Dr. James Fadiman, the “father of modern microdosing,” and a dozen expert guest faculty. Enroll today!
Mirror Box Therapy and Pain as An Output of Perception From the Brain
When we look at phantom limb pain, what we’re seeing is the phenomenon known as deafferentation: the loss of afferent or ascending inputs from the peripheral nervous system up to the brain. No limb equals no signal, and the loss of signal is very dangerous within an evolutionary context because limb loss due to injury or infection will mean, at the least, loss of sensation and loss of coordination for motor outputs/muscle contraction/movement, meaning a lost ability to gather food or to avoid threats. Or worse, it could mean signaling that you’re going to bleed to death in a matter of minutes.
Multiple pain conditions could be considered sub-clinical deafferentation: peripheral neuropathy from conditions like diabetes or shingles, or different types of phantom limb pain where the limb is still present but the nerves are so injured that they no longer transmit afferent signals – such as we see in cancer, stroke, or crush injuries. That loss of signal gets hardwired into the cortical representations of that limb, and never gets a counterbalancing signal, so the CNS registers it as an ongoing sense of threat. That creates a huge alarm signal in the form of pain perception.
What mirror box therapy does is replace that loss of signal with the image of an intact limb, generating input that dampens down that pain signal. And when you touch the remaining limb (which is generating normal signals) while seeing it reflected in the mirror in place of the missing or injured limb, it can immediately cause the pain signals to cease; so powerful are visual representations within the somatosensory cortex of the brain. Essentially, through seeing a limb appear where it wasn’t before, one tricks their own brain into thinking it’s still there, and the pain signals from the CNS for that lost limb stop being sent.
Mirror box therapy is often not enduring though; only being effective for as long as you do it, and that was the case with Albert Lin. It often takes a lot of repetition for it to become “sticky.” Neuroplasticity requires novelty and intensity, usually in the volume of work. But that can be hard to achieve, thus the issue in pain treatment that I had experienced directly as a practitioner and as a patient; everything works, nothing lasts. When it was suggested to Lin that psilocybin had strong neuroplastic properties that could impact cortical reorganization for chronic pain, he tried it a few times, taking a high dose of psilocybin mushrooms, which gave him approximately 3-12 pain-free hours, depending on the dose. But then the pain came back with a vengeance. Within the cluster headache communities, this is known as a “slapback effect” and can actually be a sign that the nervous system is adjusting and more permanent relief could be imminent.
Then, Lin’s wife suggested combining (stacking) mirror box therapy with psilocybin. He went out to the desert with a closet door mirror, and while under high-dose psilocybin, he would stare at the reflected image of his remaining leg and then at the space where his amputated limb had been, while repeating the phrase “You are safe. You are totally safe,” for approximately 45 minutes. This met all the conditions for driving neuroplasticity: novelty, intensity, and volume of work with deep assurance of emotional and physical security. Amazingly, it worked, immediately putting him into remission for the next 20+ hours, with 50% reduced pain for nearly two weeks. He shared his success with the lab, and experiments with different types of visual neuromodulation while under high-dose psilocybin quickly began.
Lin was dealing with a persistent pain in his phantom foot that felt as if a railroad spike was being driven through, suspected to be a sensory remnant from when the bones in his foot were surgically pinned together as they attempted to save it before ultimately deciding to amputate. An artificial foot and a pen with a telescoping pointer was introduced, and they covered the space between his stump and the plastic foot with a blanket, then “pulled” the telescoping pen out of his foot at the site of pain, mimicking the action of removing pins (or really, removing the pain). He felt instant relief.
Another experiment involved a novelty Halloween-store “flame” (bright light with orange and yellow fabric and a fan underneath that makes it flutter). Lin chuckled when he saw it, but when they brought it near his representational foot, he actually felt heat from the “flame,” which was intensely relieving.
Through these experiments and continued work, Lin went into full remission after five weeks, and has been free of chronic pain ever since. It’s worth noting that he had a top research team working with him that was extremely creative in creating novel inputs, and he is known for being an almost Michelangelo-type character, with a high degree of inventiveness and novelty-seeking, allowing him to discover unique, lateral approaches to solve problems. And, it bears repeating: chronic pain is a singular motivational force.
Additionally, post-dosing, cortical reorganization was happening during a psychedelically-induced “critical period reopening”; when the brain has a metaplastic quality that allows it to reset to an almost-new condition. As described in the work by Dr. Gül Dölen, critical period reopening happens during crucial phases of nervous system development in childhood, such as when toddlers can learn multiple languages without an accent or when adolescents are uniquely sensitive to social cues from peer pressure (and/or support), allowing them to quickly adopt different social customs and frameworks. This reopening is also seen post-stroke, when there is a limited window for rehabilitating from brain injury, so this likely applies very well here with chronic pain. We know that veteran groups like the Heroic Hearts Project, VETS (Veterans Exploring Treatment Solutions), and The Mission Within, who are employing psychedelics for treatment, are having striking results both in recovery from combat-induced PTSD as well as traumatic brain injury – typically seen as treatment-resistant conditions.
If there’s anything I would like you to understand after reading this article, it’s that:
We don’t have to prove that psychedelics are effective for treating chronic pain; we have to establish that this has already been proven.
Psychedelics are not an instant cure for chronic pain, but they are strong impact boosters for neuroplasticity and can make physiotherapy/neuromodulation become “sticky,” creating enduring relief.
We know that many mechanisms that create psychiatric conditions that are responsive to psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy are extremely similar in nature to the same mechanisms that generate chronic pain; it’s just that psychiatric conditions have gotten far more focus in psychedelics, perhaps because the non-ordinary states of consciousness they are known for producing seem more applicable to conditions more traditionally thought to be related to the mind.
But both arise out of the central nervous system and are rigid, fixed states of cognition and perception. With depression, you have negative outlooks and self-perceptions: “Nothing I do makes a difference,” “People are just saying that to make me feel better,” etc. At one point, these thoughts may have helped you to cope with a traumatic incident, environment, or upbringing, but now they’re maladaptive, weigh you down, are out of step with reality, and have actually caused (or are the result of) structural deficits in the neurology of your brain. It’s the same with chronic pain: when there is an acute injury or even the possibility of one, pain is part of the protective suite of responses from our nervous systems to prevent further injury and allow healing to occur – an alarm bell/action signal to change a behavior. But it can be so overprotective that it gets embedded and cemented with movement, emotions, and surrounding environments long after all tissue healing is done – getting triggered by seemingly innocuous events, maladaptively hardwired into your neurology in a negative loop of conditioned responses.
This is exactly what happened to me when I went through NYU’s psilocybin trial; an adverse financial and work environment, repeated (and under-recovered) musculoskeletal stress/injuries, and (likely) sub-clinical post-concussion syndrome and PTSD, all topped off by the sudden death of a close friend releasing long-suppressed grief and leading to a significant nociplastic output in the form of increasingly treatment-resistant depression and moderate chronic pain. Many recovery efforts were attempted using every modality I knew, but there was too much of a deficit to overcome – until psilocybin was introduced to the mix. That life-changing experience allowed for metaplasticity, cortical reorganization, descending inhibition, and anti-inflammatory properties to take root, giving all post-dosing interventions the opportunity to gain traction and for me to flourish once again.
Future articles in this “Pain and Psychedelics” series will focus on old assumptions vs. new science, additional case studies, the suspected mechanisms of action behind the interaction between psychedelics and pain, and best practices and safety concerns for working with psychedelics to alleviate chronic pain.
An NYU psilocybin depression study participant discovers an unforeseen application for psychedelics: the treatment of chronic pain. Part 1 of the series: Psychedelics and Chronic Pain.
Everything Worked, but Nothing Lasted
In the fall of 2020, I was living a pretty successful and happy life – on paper. I had co-founded a very popular, leading-edge CrossFit gym in NYC; one of the first in the world. I held multiple advanced certifications in applied neurophysiology through Z-Health, helping clients with challenging pain and performance issues. As an early adopter of kettlebell training, I became a nationally top-reviewed instructor and trained Team 6 Navy SEALs, astronauts, pro athletes, wounded veterans, and members of the FBI, NYPD, NYFD, and ROTC. I was featured in Men’s Fitness, the NY Times Sunday Routine, and USA Today. I had 30 years in the pain & performance field, training and teaching at a high level, and was becoming widely known for helping people with difficult mobility problems or chronic pain, using unique methods from the leading edge of neurological rehabilitation. On top of all of that, I was 17 years sober.
However, not all that glitters is gold. A now ex-business partner was committing a Ponzi scheme to the tune of millions, and his case followed him like a shadow, turning my life’s passion into an emotionally and financially toxic nightmare that economically devastated my family. My best friend, Kirk MacLeod, who I had completely rehabbed from chemo & cancer surgery, died six months after being declared in remission. My first son had developed undiagnosed GERD and couldn’t sleep more than an hour and half at a time, which meant my wife and I slept even less.
Unsurprisingly, my episodic depression returned after more than a decade and a half, and I was now increasingly treatment-resistant; unresponsive to psychiatric drugs that had previously worked. All my pain neuromodulation interventions that worked on my clients no longer worked for me, and I had developed chronic pain myself.
I share all my background here to demonstrate that I was not under-resourced in either knowledge, networks, or diversity of approaches, practice, or experiences. I poured over all my certification materials looking for anything I had missed, but had fallen into an increasingly deeper recovery hole; everything worked, but nothing lasted. I was hitting a new bottom in my life, deeply sinking into the midst of an increasingly treatment-resistant depression episode that had likely been ongoing for five years.
But then I became aware of ongoing studies on psilocybin for depression happening locally in NYC. I had experienced a few high-dose psychedelic sessions nearly a quarter century ago and had been an avid Terence McKenna fan (even speaking with him directly after a lecture in Seattle), but I had never taken psychedelics therapeutically, and my recreational interest had effectively vanished once I became sober from alcohol. Intrigued, I connected with the local clinical research coordinator, Leila Ghazhal, at the NYU for the clinical trial of Psilocybin for Major Depressive Disorder study (sponsored by the Usona Institute), and took all the online and over-the-phone assessments, passing them easily. The primary investigator (PI) on my study was Dr. Stephen Ross, who had been leading psychedelic research at NYU for more than a decade. Amazingly, I made it into the trial within a month and a half, learning that I’d actually beat out 8500 other applicants for just 100 spots nationwide.
Trying Not to Hope
When I first entered the trial, I was in a state of denial about how severe my depression was, but once I took the MADRS assessment, there was no avoiding that I had moderate to severe depression with suicidal ideation.
I remember a specific moment very well during this process, when I was finally cleared to enter the study and the study coordinator was speaking with me about the results of my assessment and my upcoming participation. I asked what would happen if I didn’t receive psilocybin during my session, and he reassured me that they would not just drop me off in the middle of the ocean to dog paddle – that there were other interventions and studies available and they would be sure to find me something, but there was a good chance I would receive psilocybin and hopefully get some good results. At this point, my mask cracked a little bit and some protective cynicism came out, and I quipped with a bit of a shrug: “Well, we’ll see.” I hadn’t meant it to be dismissive or sarcastic but it came out that way, and the conversational atmosphere rapidly shifted. He looked right at me and suddenly he wasn’t the primary investigator anymore, lost in the myriad details and logistics of a very involved study. Now he was the deeply experienced clinician and therapist, and, having heard something within the tone of my voice, dropped all the way in and asked softly: “What’s going on behind that, Court?” Suddenly, all the masking dropped and there was no more place to hide because I was so, so tired at this point, and had been waiting for this moment. In and out of therapy for years, dozens if not 100 self-help books, so many modalities, so many somatic systems, and here I was with a chance for something new to help me. When I realized why there was cynicism behind my statement, my voice cracked, I started crying, and I answered him: “Trying not to hope.”
The one glimmer of hope I did have was reading a 2018 paper by lead author Calvin Ly describing psychedelics’ neuroplastic activity in the prefrontal cortex. As someone who had studied the neurology of pain for years, this was revelatory. Many pain conditions are, in fact, nociplastic or noxious conditions arising out of the central nervous system (CNS); there’s no more injury or damage if there ever was, but your CNS is still continuing to put out a maladaptive alarm signal that is perceived as pain. So learning that psilocybin was creating actual structural change within my cortex – not “just” psychological change – was completely astonishing.
Applications close on March 26 for this year’s edition of Vital.
My dosing date was on March 5, 2020, and I remember looking down at the capsule sitting in the cup, saying to it: “I really hope that’s you.” I was terrified inwardly that I would receive the placebo, that I wouldn’t respond to the psilocybin, or that it would only work just a little bit, only for its effects to slowly fade. But within half an hour, there was no denying that I had received psilocybin, and I earnestly pursued all the procedures everyone on my care team at NYU had worked with me on for weeks in preparation for this day.
I was genuinely shocked at the sheer volume of psychological material from my childhood and early adulthood that came up. I had profound transpersonal experiences and healing, revisiting instances that were pivotal in my childhood. I had an encounter with the first woman I had ever loved, who had committed suicide three years after we had broken up. Her death had caused a profound grief in me that drove my drinking for a decade after. I thought I had released the majority of my grief around her once I got sober, but clearly, there was so much more to heal that had been deeply suppressed as I tried to move forward with my life.
Reset, Renewed, and Reborn
The biggest shock of all, though, was waiting for me at the end of the day when one of my facilitators casually pitched a seemingly routine question while closely watching me out of the corner of his eye: “So, how do you feel?” Without thinking, I reflexively replied, “Good,” but then, just as reflexively, scanned more deeply inward, and in a sudden rush, realized my depression was completely gone – not just better, but vanquished, exclaiming: “Good! That fast? Are you fucking kidding me, that fast? Is it gone already?”
It felt as if a huge mass had been surgically removed from me or as if an entire continent within my interior was now suddenly revealed. No matter how many times you read the word “remission” and the percentages behind it in scientific studies, very little will prepare you for the shocking reality of it. The contrast between before and after was profound. All of the iterative rumination was gone, and it took no effort for that to happen. And it only seemed to strengthen as the days passed. Miraculously, all suicidal thoughts ceased on that day and never returned.
Shockingly, only ten days after my dosing session, NYC went into a complete pandemic lockdown, my entire industry closed, and my two young boys were now at home with me 24/7, tele-learning. I cannot imagine what 2020 would have been like for me if I had received the placebo. It’s almost unimaginable.
For more on this topic, make sure to check out episode 369, where Court and Joe interview Timothy Furnish, MD & Joel Castellanos, MD of UC San Diego’s Psychedelics and Health Research Initiative (PHRI).
But here is where the story takes an even more profound and impactful turn. During the session, my leg started intensely tremoring/spasming. I had been evaluated for musculoskeletal pain and dysfunction that I had acquired through a host of injuries over the years of my performance career, and in fact, had just been in the doctor’s office a few months earlier trying to determine if I had arthritis or something worse. But right there in the session room, I started having a neurological revision, with my muscles and nerves in my right inner thigh firing in an effort to recalibrate the sensory and motor inputs and outputs in that part of my kinetic chain. It was almost like a self-generated TENS unit (Transdermal Electromagnetic Nerve Stimulation, used to generate muscle contractions and neuromodulate pain signals with micro-electric pulses) getting my leg back online by creating intense motor activity in the muscles of my thigh.
I’ve since spoken with spinal injury survivor Jim Harris and read a case series from UC San Diego’s Psychedelics and Health Research Initiative (PHRI) published in PAIN Journal where the exact same thing occurred to them under the effect of psilocybin with the same positive results, but at the time, the facilitators were concerned enough to ask the primary investigator to come and evaluate me during the session. I had to explain to him, somewhat hilariously as I was going into my peak, that, in fact, the tremors felt intensely good. I’m grateful that he let them continue because it has made all the difference.
While I partially understood what had happened, I was understandably beyond eager to learn more, and to see where else this realization could take me: Why did this work so well? Has our understanding of chronic pain been wrong? And if psychedelics are the answer, what does treating chronic pain with psychedelics actually look like?
This is part 1 of a 2-part piece and part of a larger series on chronic pain and psychedelics. In part 2, I will dive into the research around remapping and mirror box therapy, and why my psychedelic experience seemed to be so effective.
Future articles will focus on:What is pain and what causes chronic pain, old assumptions vs. new science, the suspected mechanisms of action behind the interaction between psychedelics and pain, and best practices and safety concerns for working with psychedelics to alleviate chronic pain.
So, you’re thinking about starting a career in psychedelics. Maybe you’ve experienced your own breakthroughs. Maybe you’ve watched others transform. Or maybe you’ve noticed the massive groundswell of political, industry, and community support around psychedelics in recent years, and just want to be part of something colossal.
Luckily, there is no shortage of options for talented individuals looking to get involved, from roles in psychedelic media to biotech, education, coaching, and integration.
But where should you start?
While there are psychedelic-focused job boards to peruse, building your own professional network and acquiring experience through education could set you apart from the pack of applicants – especially as the demand for trained, career-ready individuals grows.
And the demand is growing – fast. As more states, including Oregon and (with any luck) Colorado, look to develop psychedelic facilitation programs, and with FDA approval looming over MDMA therapy, there could be a real need for over 100,000 psychedelic facilitators in the coming years.
And while the need is there and growing, some say the practitioner bottleneck may be one of the biggest supply chain barriers in delivering treatment to the multitude of people who want to receive it. Wait lists for conventional therapy alone are months long in some parts of the world today, and the growing demand for mental health services and support has resulted in a significant caregiver shortage.
“When you consider all that people have been through over the last few years with the pandemic, and the stigma around mental health thankfully eroding, it’s no wonder many are looking for support. The mental health crisis is real, and it isn’t going away on its own,” said Kyle Buller, Psychedelics Today’s Vice President of Education and Training. “We need compassionate people to answer the call to support their fellow human beings.”
At Psychedelics Today, we’re doing our part to educate people who are curious about taking part in this seismic shift. From regular free webinars, to our 12-month intensive practitioner training program, Vital, to over a dozen courses on various topics in our Psychedelic Education Center, we’ve designed options for all levels of learners to expand their personal and professional psychedelic acumen and build their professional networks.
If you’re taking the first steps in your journey, consider Navigating Psychedelics. This popular, nine-week program combines the history and foundations of psychedelics with essential knowledge required to work with clients, including legal and ethical considerations, harm reduction tips, job opportunities available today, and new avenues to explore.
Not just for clinicians or therapists, the program offers a springboard into a range of career options, including retreat facilitation, ketamine clinic administration, integration coaching, and more – two students even went on to work for Psychedelics Today after graduation!
To learn more about where Navigating Psychedelics has taken students, we recently surveyed past graduates. Here’s what they told us:
50% of students chose the course to increase their knowledge to establish a psychedelic career, while 25% used the lessons to enhance an existing practice.
75% went on to successful careers in psychedelic therapy.
25% of students surveyed indicated they simply took the course to increase their general psychedelic knowledge and did not pursue a career after.
100%would recommend Navigating Psychedelics to someone looking to expand their psychedelic knowledge.
One past student said, “I found this course extremely helpful in preparing for a career in psychedelics. The live (sessions) were extremely practical and thought about how to keep ourselves safe, reputationally, in the work. The experience of the course helped me to plot out a path for myself in the field of psychedelic work and the encouragement of the facilitators was brilliant!”
Eager to learn more? Check out our program page and download the course curriculum to decide if Navigating Psychedelics is right for you. CE credits, financial assistance for students, and discounts for past Psychedelic Education Center students are available. The next live cohort begins July 12th, 2023, and space is limited, so don’t delay.
Wherever you are in your psychedelic career path, we are thrilled you are here. The question you may want to ask yourself is: where do you want to go next?
Could a nation defined by inflammation find relief in psychedelics?
It’s a verifiable truth that the United States of America may be considered a global leader, especially when it comes to the prevalence of mental and physical health disorders. In fact, of the nearly 330 million people in the population, millions to hundreds of millions of Americans suffer from chronic conditions like:
These sobering statistics beg the questions: How could a single nation of relatively modest size be home to such a vast selection of chronic diseases?And how could psychedelics be used to combat these conditions affecting so much of the population?
The American diet overall is egregiously devoid of whole grains, beans, fruits, vegetables, and nuts, with the US Department of Agriculture estimating they represent a mere 11% of the populous’ typical daily food intake. Despite this lack of prevalence, these unprocessed natural foods are otherwise rich in medicinal phytochemicals found to support the immune system and strengthen the body’s resistance to infections, as well as fight cancer and diabetes; diseases that are twice as prevalent in the US relative to the global average. Shockingly, the US also leads the world in obesity rates by nearly 400%, and is first in global consumption of sugar, outranking Germany by about 26% yearly.
Although diet quality is proven to significantly impact the likelihood of disease development, what Americans eat is only one contributing factor among many. Poor diet alone doesn’t explain the exceptional amount of chronic health conditions seen in the population. In fact, it’s estimated that over 60% of Americans suffer from at least one chronic health condition, 42% of the population are diagnosed with at least two, and up to 12% of Americans live with five or more chronic diseases.
To put those percentages in perspective, the 2020 election saw the highest voter turnout in 120 years, with the most votes for a single presidential candidate ever recorded in American history. Joe Biden reportedly received over 81 million popular votes, representing less than half of the 198 million Americans suffering from at least one chronic health condition, and only marginallymore than half of the 139 million with at least two.
Despite the fact that they’re by no means a minority in the population, chronic diseases are found to disproportionately affect socioeconomic minorities in the United States of America and beyond. A recent study published in the journal, “Archives of Public Health,” used 20 years (1995-2015) of empirical data from the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) to investigate the impact of education on health across the populations of 26 countries, including the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, France, Germany, and other founding nations that became members when OECD was created in 1960. This data, taken from millions of people in numerous countries across the globe over one fifth of a century, clearly demonstrated that higher educational attainment in adults positively correlates with longer lifespans, better health outcomes, increased Gross Domestic Product (GDP) per capita, and reduced infant mortality rates.
Put simply, the OECD data suggests that highly educated adults with ample finances generally live up to 12% longer (8-10 years), enjoy healthier lives, make more money, and are less likely to die at birth or of cancer, when directly compared to individuals of lower socioeconomic status (SES). Unsurprisingly, adults with higher GDP per capita also spent more money on healthcare and education over their lifetime, with college and university education found to positively influence life expectancy, child vaccination, and enrollment of children in education, as well as negatively impact infant mortality. Taken as a whole, the OECD data demonstrates an essential principle:
If appropriate education and adequate income significantly increase life expectancy, then access to quality schooling, sustainable employment, and equitable socioeconomic mobility are inherent to health care services.
However, even if we factor in education and employment as essential contributors to health, the fact remains that as of 2021, over 85 million Americans older than 25 had attained a Bachelor’s Degree or higher, and US unemployment was a mere 3.7% in August 2022. Since neither education nor employment are able to fully reconcile the disproportionately large number of Americans currently suffering from chronic health conditions, there must be a deeper underlying cause contributing to the pathology of diseases reportedly observed in the country’s citizens and resident aliens.
Compellingly, inflammation has been identified as a central contributor to all aforementioned chronic health conditions and beyond, and is implicated in over 60% of all human deathsaround the globe. Some may already be familiar with acute inflammation in the form of localized pain, redness and swelling, usually in response to an injury or infection. Acute inflammation is typically a normal immune response during which the immune system is activated through the release of specific proteins, essentially called inflammatory markers. These markers then act as beacons to recruit immune cells, which subsequently migrate to the particular body part(s) in need of defense or repair.
In contrast, chronic inflammation is less apparent and far less immediate, but has insidiously dire consequences when left unchecked. Instead of causing localized pain or swelling, chronic inflammation causes systemic issues with immune cell signaling through excess “noise” created by high levels of inflammatory markers. Rather than being recruited to areas of the body most in need of healing, immune cells are drowned in an overwhelming number of biochemical beacons and ultimately disoriented. By disrupting this essential communication between immune cells, chronic inflammation prevents the appropriate direction of immune cells to critical issues needing attention, and may instead direct disproportionate amounts of immune activity to arbitrary areas – thus crippling the body’s capacity to effectively heal itself or prevent systemic disease.
In this self-guided class, we investigate the history, science, and best practices for safe and effective microdosing; with Adam Bramlage, founder of Flow State Micro, Dr. James Fadiman, the “father of modern microdosing,” and a dozen expert guest faculty. Enroll today!
Over the past 20 years, a growing body of research has further investigated the complex relationship between chronic inflammation, various mental and physical diseases, and socioeconomic status (SES). High levels of inflammation measured by markers in the blood of low SES patients were found to prospectively predict whether they would suffer from depression, heart disease, ischemic stroke, and/or mortality.
Furthermore, factors such as poverty, lack of social or educational resources, obesity, and diets rich in refined sugar were all closely associated with increased inflammatory markers, chronic diseases, and mortality rates. Stress derived from socio-political, financial, environmental (chemical, biological, electromagnetic), or psychosocial (relationship experiences, trauma, social conditioning) aspects of a patient’s life also reportedly influenced inflammation, with chronic psychological and emotional stress inducing a significant increase in observed blood inflammatory markers; thus promoting immune dysfunction and ultimately increasing the likelihood of chronic diseases in individuals of low SES.
Psychedelics as Anti-inflammatory Medicine
Despite these undeniable correlations and profound implications, the medical model of inflammation as the root of disease is not a new concept. Whether willow bark or aspirin, both traditional Ayurvedic and modern Western medicine employ preparations of anti-inflammatory drugs to treat a number of maladies, from headaches to heart disease. In fact, many over-the-counter (OTC) medications, commonly prescribed pharmaceuticals, and even psychedelic drugs owe some portion of their medicinal benefits to anti-inflammatory effects exerted in particular tissues of the human body.
For example, recent research has revealed that two of the most commonly prescribed classes of antidepressants, Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs) and Selective Norepinephrine Reuptake Inhibitors (SNRIs), may instead induce their expected medical effect via anti-inflammatory action within the brain itself, thus alleviating underlying neuroinflammation implicated as a central contributor to malaise, fatigue, brain fog, emotional reactivity, and other psychological symptoms. This revelation casts significant doubt on the broadly accepted model for the pathology of depression that classically purports serotonin deficiency as the primary cause. Today, a new breed of antidepressants specifically intended as anti-inflammatory drugs are undergoing feverish development by major drug corporations.
But before we herald these pharmaceutical innovations as the ultimate solution to tame the treachery of chronic neuroinflammatory disease, we must address the unjust marginalization and criminal victimization of disaffected Americans self-medicating via naturopathic means. Notwithstanding their evolutionary, anthropological, and social significance, the potent anti-inflammatory effects of cannabis, psilocybin mushrooms, and other psychedelic derivatives are now well-supported by an ever-growing body of recent scientific research. Although prohibitionist laws previously precluded a thorough investigation of their potential, the US has slowly and begrudgingly allowed the pursuit of psychedelic pharmacological power. As the barriers of outdated, impermissible, and fallacious legislative paradigms fall, clinicians are finally gaining critical insights that have enabled the development of novel pharmaceutical psychedelic derivatives with extreme precision; such that specific medical characteristics like an anti-inflammatory effect or psychedelic effect may be intentionally targeted and enhanced or diminished.
However new this scientific perspective may seem, medicinal preparations of psychedelics have reportedly been used for centuries, and even pharmaceuticals investigated and approved for clinical use decades ago were arguably directly modeled after psychedelics like LSD and psilocybin. Most notable of these compounds, Methergine (methylergometrine), is an LSD derivative used to induce contractions during childbirth since 1582, and is currently included on the World Health Organization’s (WHO) List of Essential Medicines. A similarly indispensable class of pharmaceutical psychedelic derivatives, the triptans, were first developed and patented in 1991 to treat migraines and cluster headaches, conditions which are both implicated to be caused byneuroinflammation. Interestingly, early triptans display remarkable structural similarities to tryptamine psychedelics like DMT and psilocybin.
Further progress spearheaded by brave and dutiful psychonauts in professional practice, underground social circles, and beyond has steadily illuminated the psychological and pharmacological nuances of many psychedelic drugs, revealing that they’re in fact highly safe and effective treatments for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), suicidality, depression, anxiety, addiction, Fibromyalgia, various chronic inflammatory diseases, and more. Tireless efforts across decades of clinical trials using psychedelics such as cannabinoids, MDMA, ketamine, and psilocybin have paved the way to their current or imminent approval by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA).
It finally seems quite possible that psychedelic medicines previously incorrectly admonished as “psychomimetic drugs” that imitated psychosis, damaged DNA, and were toxic to the human body may soon be available as legitimate pharmaceutical compounds aiming to alleviate the suffering of millions. With the current medical and legal trajectories, it’s highly likely that sometime in the not-so-distant future, inflamed Americans in need of psychedelic therapies will be able to access them without the unnecessarily harmful (but now still-looming) threat of social, criminal, and civil persecution. As much as one author celebrates this opportunity for a modicum of much needed progress in the United States, a single question remains:
Do a handful of state-level decriminalization initiatives for some select drugs, as well as the monetization and regulation of a limited number of pharmaceutical psychedelics at the federal level truly represent a sufficiently compassionate and broad solution to remedy the innumerable and egregious offenses against American life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness committed by the war on drugs?
Horizons: Perspectives on Psychedelics, the annual psychedelic conference in New York City, is celebrating its fifteenth anniversary year.
Horizons has been a landmark on the psychedelic conference circuit long before there was ever such a thing. Once a small, single-day gathering at Judson Memorial Church, the conference has grown into a five-day event. In the past, its stage has welcomed speakers such as Steven Benally, Rick Doblin, Amanda Feilding, Roland R. Griffiths, Ph.D., Bia Labate, Ph.D., Nick Powers, Ph.D., Alexander Shulgin, Ph.D. and Ann Shlugin.
From the beginning, the goal has been to create a forum with the credence and respectability that the topic of psychedelics deserves. The conference has, accordingly, sought out historic venues to host its programming: The New York Academy of Medicine, founded in 1847, and The Great Hall at Cooper Union, where; when it was new, Abraham Lincoln spoke. More recently, in September, Horizons debuted the Horizons Northwest conference at the Portland Art Museum, one of the oldest art museums in the country.
After all, why should this subject, which many traditional cultures have held sacred for thousands of years, not be discussed in esteemed cultural institutions?
A panel from last year’s Horizons NYC
What’s Special About This Year?
In previous years, the focus at Horizons has been on advocacy and awareness. But things are changing. Now that we are seeing the fruits of this work – with, for example, the Natural Medicine Health Act in Denver, Colorado, and most prominently with the Psilocybin Services Act in Oregon – the focus is moving quickly toward implementation.
What are the hard problems of making psychedelics accessible to a large group of people? How do we meet this historic opportunity safely, responsibly, and with wisdom?
The Program and Speakers
Classes and workshops for care professionals will be offered on Wednesday and Thursday, October 12 and 13, at The New York Academy of Medicine. Attendees will have a chance to learn from experienced researchers and guides William A. Richards, Ph.D., Brian D. Richards, Psy.D, Matthew W. Johnson, Ph.D., Marcela Ot’alora G., LPC, and Bruce D. Poulter, RN, MPH on Wednesday. Those who have taken classes before can enroll in intermediate workshops on Thursday: “Guiding Psilocybin Therapy Sessions,” with Mary Cosimano, LMSW of Johns Hopkins, and “Intermediate Topics for MDMA Therapy Clinicians,” with Marcela Ot’alora G., LPC and Bruce D. Poulter, RN, MPH.
After a challenging year in the industry, The Psychedelic Business Forum at The New York Academy of Medicine will begin with an overview of the state of the industry on Thursday, October 13. We will hear from companies operating in this space on impact- and values-driven models, as well as from those raising capital for psychedelic endeavors. Mike Mullete, who oversaw the commercialization of Moderna’s COVID-19 vaccine and who is now COO of MAPS PBC, will give a briefing on how MAPS PBC is preparing to bring MDMA-assisted therapy to market.
Sutton King, MPH speaks at last year’s Horizons NYC
Saturday, October 15, is focused on the medical and legal implementation of psychedelic treatments. What are the current successful and ongoing efforts to develop regulated access to psychedelic experiences? What work has yet to be done? Assembly member Patrick B. Burke, who introduced a bill to regulate the medical use of psilocybin in New York State, will kick off the day. Rachel Yehuda, Ph.D. will appear along with retired Lieutenant General Martin R. Steele and Marcus and Amber Capone of VETS to speak about the remarkable confluence of veterans and psychedelic therapy. Brett Waters, Esq. will also give a briefing on federal-level policy reform.
Sunday, October 15, is all about the way people are actually using psychedelics in the world – not in medical or clinical environments, but “in the wild.” Saleena Subaiya, MD, MSc and Kate O’Malley, MA will present two of the larger surveys that have been done on the impact of ayahuasca use on behavioral health and mental illness among users and facilitators – the first time preliminary conclusions have been presented on this subject. Bia Labate, Ph.D. and Joseph Mays, MSc will speak about decolonizing psychedelics, and Sandor Iron Rope, president of the Native American Church of South Dakota, will tell his story and offer an Indigenous perspective on the rise of psychedelics in popular culture.
Looking Forward to Community
The purpose of Horizons is to be in service to the public availability of quality knowledge on psychedelics, as well as to strengthen the networks and communities involved in this work. The decisive ingredient in both? People.
Indeed, because this subject has been prohibited and criminalized for decades, this can be a powerful experience. For many who are on the fence about committing to advocacy or entering this field in some way, this environment can tip the scales, empowering people to become community participants and leaders.
Registration for Horizons New York is still open. Visit Horizons PBC’s website for a detailed event agenda, speaker lineup, and to register.
And when registering, make sure to use code PSYCHEDELICSTODAY-NY-17 at checkout to receive 17% off!
Photos by Andres Bohorquez Marin
This post is part of a 2022 media sponsorship between Horizons PBC and Psychedelics Today.
The history of kratom’s long path to (mostly) legality shows us that if done right, fighting against prohibition can actually lead to wins. But to truly fight these battles, we can’t fall into the trap of psychedelic elitism.
Ever since Westerners first encountered psychedelics, they have been prohibited, demonized, and considered unfit for civilized folk. Beginning with Columbus’s first encounter with psychedelic-snuff-using natives in Hispaniola, this class of psychoactives has always been relegated to the underground. (Ott, 11) While the recent emergence of psychedelic commercialization and medicalization marks our first flirtation with aboveboard operations in nearly 50 years, psychedelic advocates are all too familiar with prohibition after 500 years of psychedelic distrust and drug war assaults.
The road to our blossoming revival of psychedelic culture has been filled with tragedy and struggle. Even with the decriminalization of some psychedelics in select cities, most Americans cannot trip without the fear of losing their freedom. We are criminalized for possessing a portal to an unordinary state of consciousness. Undoubtedly, psychedelic prohibition has brought with it the tragic ruination of thousands of lives. Passionate advocates, then, have a chip on their shoulder – an urge to close the chapter on the long history of the Western demonization of psychedelics.
For many, this is a noble and moral goal. Yet in shedding the chains of prohibition, we must ensure that we thoroughly scrub ourselves clean of it. In our desperation to leave our struggle behind, we must not fall into the trap of a prohibitionist mindset.
Psychedelics are not becoming legal and mainstream because they are “good drugs” in contrast with the rightfully-prohibited “bad drugs.” There is no such distinction, and it was prohibition which constructed the illogical demarcation between “good” and “bad” drugs in the first place. As the Swiss alchemist Paracelsus mused many centuries ago, the difference between a medicine and a poison is the dose – not whether or not it occasions a psychedelic experience.
What is Psychedelic Elitism and Why is it Bad for the Anti-Prohibitionist Movement?
Despite emerging from the same struggle against prohibition that most other “drugs” face, the narrative around psychedelic legalization has often included an attitude which can be termed “psychedelic elitism.” Psychedelic elitism is the belief that psychedelic drugs (psilocybin, LSD, etc.) are harmless and beneficial, and used by responsible, upstanding citizens; whereas other drugs (such as PCP, methamphetamine, or heroin) are bad, inherently dangerous, and only used by the lowest characters in society. As such, psychedelics are seen as wrongfully prohibited, while other drugs are rightfully prohibited.
Dr. Carl Hart’s 2019 presentation at the Horizon’s Conference in NYC directly touched upon this issue. He warned that any internalization of the prohibitionist mindset would be counterproductive to our overarching goals of creating a more just and equitable society. All drugs, removed from their social context, have potential for both good and bad reactions. For example, in mainstream narratives, psilocybin is used by affluent professionals and underlies the business model for publicly-traded companies, whereas methamphetamine is only used by impoverished individuals without social status. So psilocybin is associated with success and health, while meth is associated with ruin and sickness. This narrative holds sway despite the fact that methamphetamine is legally prescribed under the name Desoxyn, which has helped countless patients live a better life – very much confusing the moralizing mindset which demonizes some drugs but not others.
We were honored to have Dr. Carl Hart on the show last year. Check it out here!
Psychedelic experiences can be freeing, euphoric, problem-solving, pain-reducing, easy going, recreational, creative, therapeutic, medicinal, spiritual, ad infinitum. While these qualities drive our passion for psychedelic advocacy, we should keep in mind that the broader category of psychoactive substances, including non-psychedelic drugs (a category which is largely arbitrary and subjective), can also bear these same positive traits. Therefore, they should be included in our struggle against prohibition.
Any drug, psychedelic or non-psychedelic, can also be indicted in unpleasant experiences as well. It seems, rather clearly, that psychedelic elitism comes from a positive drug experience with what happened to be a psychedelic. With this experience, part of the propagandist veil which obfuscates our understanding of how drugs affect us individually and on a societal level falls away. We become acutely aware that a drug – in this case a psychedelic – can have a positive effect; a profoundly different narrative than the one peddled by prohibitionists. Yet this newfound knowledge of the contradiction is internalized as simply: “Psychedelics are good.” There is rarely any further research to see if the prohibitionists were lying about all drugs or just psychedelics.
Psychedelics are worth advocating for, but this should never be done at the expense of other substances and their consumers. Removing the risk of imprisonment for psychedelic users but retaining it for other illicit drug users is hypocrisy at its finest. Allowing individuals and organizations to make exorbitant profits with psychedelics while forcing illicit drug merchants into the unregulated underground perpetuates unnecessary user risk while furthering the divide between the wealthy and the poor.
Prohibition didn’t originate to prevent the so-called “menace of drugs on society.” Rather, it was enacted to broaden the range of authority held by law enforcement. From its origin in the Harrison Act of 1914, prohibition has been about power and control – usually with a racial slant. The Harrison Act was passed to regulate and tax opium and coca imports in the US. This effectively made it impossible for Chinese immigrants to procure opium legally, thus making opium users liable for arrest. Cocaine was described in the press as giving superhuman strength to black men while simultaneously making them belligerent and violent. From the get-go, prohibition has never been about protecting people, but rather about protecting the status of the dominant class.
Selectively opposing psychedelic prohibition may be easier than challenging the entire status quo. Focusing on psychedelics means you don’t have to learn about other drugs and why people choose to take them. And speaking out in favor of psychedelics has become increasingly in vogue. In many places you will be positively received when opening up about your psychedelic drug use. But by including all drugs in the fight against drug prohibition, we can selflessly aid others and reduce overall ignorance of pharmacology while raising awareness of sociocultural inequity.
We should step back and remember why we oppose the prohibition of psychedelics in the first place. If we are committed to fighting for freedom of choice, the reduction of non-violent prison sentences, and the liberty to alter one’s consciousness as one pleases, then complete anti-prohibitionism is necessary. What I hope to convey is that being a psychedelic advocate should be no different than being an anti-prohibitionist. Both fight for freedom, the right to dictate one’s own consciousness, and the end to unnecessary violence instigated by the war on drugs.
An extremely relevant case study in fighting prohibition (and winning) can be found in the story of the Southeast Asian tree leaf, kratom.
What is Kratom?
Kratom, or Mitragyna speciosa, is the leaf of an evergreen tree that grows from the base of the Himalayas to the Pacific Islands of Southeast Asia. In Thailand, there is written historical evidence of kratom’s use since the mid-17th century, but many believe it has an undocumented history of use dating back thousands of years.
A photo by Soren Shade of kratom trees from Top Tree Herbs’ greenhouse
Kratom also has a therapeutic folklore associated with it. A 350-year-old Buddhist temple in Thailand has a message etched in stone recommending kratom for diarrhea. In the “Hamilton’s Pharmacopeia” episode on kratom, a farmer mentions that he reaches for kratom leaves to help with coughing.
Thailand has the richest history of kratom use among the Southeast Asian countries where kratom trees grow and traditional use centers around the common laborer. Regardless of what kind of manual work they are performing; the scorching heat, unremitant sun, and long days wear on Thai workers. They chewed kratom long before coffee was introduced to the peninsula, with kratom leaves or tea serving the same purpose of energizing them and pushing them through the physical discomfort of hard work.
Kratom use originated as simple plucking and chewing of the tree’s leaves. People pick a leaf from the tree, tear the stem from the leaf, roll it into a quid, insert the quid into their mouth and lightly chew on it. They express the juices from the leaf for a little less than a minute, letting the juices come into contact with the mucus membrane, before the leaf is spat out and discarded. This chewing and spitting act can be repeated multiple times throughout the day as desired.
Another popular way to consume kratom is as a tea. Usually, teas are brewed for social settings or to be sold in the bazaar. Leaves are taken from the tree and added to a pot of water, which is left to simmer over a fire for around three hours. In the marketplace, kratom tea is frequently sold in plastic bags to customers who seek it with the same intent as an American Starbucks patron – for the boost. There are also groups of friends who gather in the evenings to drink a shared cauldron of tea that they make over a fire. At this time of day, the tea isn’t meant to give an energizing kick, but rather to be drunk socially while taking it easy and relaxing. Consuming a larger portion actually provides an effect opposite to the one desired when laboring.
Kratom has a unique response curve depending upon how much is consumed. One or two tea bags or anything under five or six chewed leaves may have an energizing effect, while stronger tea (or tea consumed in larger quantities) may have an unwinding and sociable effect while comforting the whole body.
For more about kratom, check out Joe’s interview with Clinical Professor at the University of Florida, College of Pharmacy: Oliver Grundmann, Ph.D.
Kratom and Prohibition
Despite the abundance of native ethnopharmacological options, many Thai citizens were regular opium users in the early 20th century. The opium trade was blessed by the Thai government, and a 20% tax was passed onto the consumer. By 1940, it was estimated that between 8%-20% of all tax revenue in Thailand came from opium.
In 1942, however, Thailand declared war on Allied forces and entered World War II. With war came economic hardship, and in 1943, the Thai government noticed that their opium tax revenue had plummeted. Usually, opium taxes were a fairly constant source of revenue for the government, as consumers maintained their use continually to avoid withdrawal symptoms.
Following an investigation in 1943, the Thai government realized that their former opium taxpayers had switched from state controlled opium to locally-growing kratom after someone had discovered that chewing on kratom or drinking kratom tea allowed them to stop using opium without unpleasant side effects. The word got out and spread like wildfire.
In a special meeting on January 7th, 1943, Police Major General Pin Amornwisaisoradej, a member of the House of Representatives from Lampang, stated “Taxes for opium are high while kratom is currently not being taxed. With the increase of those taxes, people are starting to use kratom instead and this has had a visible impact on our government’s income.” Later that year, kratom was made illegal, marking its first encounter with prohibition. In the 1970s, the war on kratom escalated, and the law changed to require that all kratom trees in Thailand be chopped down. Thousands of people were imprisoned and had their lives ruined, while many more were negatively impacted in other ways.
This self-guided class investigates the history, science, and best practices for safe and effective microdosing; hosted by Adam Bramlage, founder of Flow State Micro, Dr. James Fadiman, the “father of modern microdosing,” and a dozen expert guest faculty. Enroll today!
Terence McKenna and Kratom
In 1987, Terence McKenna was approached by a magazine called Trip to write a column called “Our Man in Nirvana.” McKenna was to be sent to remote locations around the world to relax and report back on the local culture. The magazine closed its doors shortly after he started writing for the column, but he had been sent to Thailand on the magazine’s dime, and had produced a brief article from his journey.
Ever the curious adventurer, he sought out kratom while in Thailand, which he had read about in Richard Evans Schultes’ book, The Botany and Chemistry of Hallucinogens. Impressed with the leniency of Thai culture and permittance of drug manufacture and use – especially heroin – Terence was intrigued as to why the kratom tree was illegal.
According to Terence, “We put out the word, and lo and behold, we got samples of this plant – rootstock. And it was very hush-hush. Everyone was either giggling or looking at us with thin, hard expressions as we scored this plant.” He took the rootstock back to Hawaii and made it “available for certified phytochemists and biochemical researchers to determine what this thing is.” Remarkably, this makes McKenna perhaps one of the earliest kratom vendors in the United States.
Still intrigued by the mystery of kratom prohibition, McKenna continued to look into the issue. Finally he heard a theory that registered with him. “What we learned as we made our way towards it was why it’s illegal. It’s illegal because it inhibits and interferes with heroin addiction.” Referencing how Thailand exported up to “one third of the world’s heroin,” he hypothesized that perhaps the reason it was illegal was due to its threats on their legal opioid industry. “So, who knows, you know, if this is true. But say it were true. So that means, you know, that this is, ethnobotanically, one of the great coups of the decade. And it explains, then, why the Thais are of such an ambivalent state of mind about it, because it’s poised like a dagger at the heart of their economic life if it’s real.”
Americans were first introduced to kratom in the aftermath of the Vietnam war, when GIs returning from Southeast Asia brought leaves back with them. While small circles of interest developed, only hardcore nerds like Terence McKenna were speaking publicly about kratom in the 1980s.
Despite McKenna making it available to “phytochemists and biochemical researchers,” public interest in kratom grew slowly. By 2005, kratom was beginning to develop niche appeal on online bodybuilding forums, and by 2016, the ranks of American kratom consumers were swelling. More and more, people were drawn to kratom by the idea that it may give them energy, help them with an opioid use pattern that they wanted to leave behind, or act as a natural painkiller. The DEA, however, challenged these beliefs when it was announced that they would be scheduling kratom as a controlled substance in August of 2016.
Instantly, passionate kratom consumers jumped into action. Petitions were circulated that drew more than 100,000 signatures. The DEA’s bulletin, the Federal Register, was bombarded with tens of thousands of passionate stories from people recounting how kratom made their lives better. Kratom business leaders joined together to form a lobbying group called the American Kratom Association (AKA). In a short time, dozens of members of Congress, including Bernie Sanders, had written to the DEA expressing their concern that a kratom ban would cause more harm than good.
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Amidst the public outcry, the DEA backtracked on their plan to schedule kratom. This marked the first instance that anything listed by the DEA to be added to the Controlled Substance Act was overturned: a monumental achievement that cannot be overlooked by those studying the history of prohibition.
The parent agency of the DEA and FDA, the US Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), reviewed the claims put forth by the DEA and concluded that there wasn’t sufficient evidence to make kratom illegal. However, following their receipt of the HHS letter, the FDA maintained for years that their official policy was that kratom was a threat to public health. It took a congressional investigation in 2020 to reveal that the executive branch’s official position on kratom was that it presented no substantiated risks, and that making it illegal would likely cause widespread social harm.
In the years that the FDA knew they were directed to not pursue kratom, they still solicited a number of local municipalities and state governments to prohibit kratom anyway. They ultimately convinced six states to make kratom illegal – Alabama, Arkansas, Indiana, Tennessee, Vermont, Wisconsin – driven by an internal, prohibitionist conviction. The AKA responded, and lobbied five states – Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Oklahoma, and Georgia – to pass protections for kratom consumers with a standardized regulatory framework to ensure the quality and safety of the sales. These legal regulations were filling the void that would normally be filled by the FDA, who, instead of focusing on protecting consumers through regulations, chose to pursue total prohibition.
The anti-prohibition trend has caught wind overseas as well. After over 75 years of prohibiting an ancient, traditional, and naturally occurring tree leaf, Thailand announced they would re-legalize kratom in 2020. Since 2021, 12,000 prisoners have been freed from their sentences related to possession or sale of kratom, and the price of a kratom leaf has dropped by 80-90%. In 2021, kratom was estimated to be a $1.3 billion dollar industry, and with an overwhelming majority of the world’s kratom being exported from Indonesia, the Thai government recognized how much money their prohibition was leaving on the table. After such positive change in global kratom acceptance, Thailand’s legalization news, however, was quickly overshadowed.
World Court
In July of 2021, kratom once again narrowly escaped prohibition. After failing to convince enough state governments to ban kratom, the FDA announced that they would be sending an official letter of recommendation to the United Nations, advising them to add kratom to the international list of controlled substances. When it was announced in the Federal Register, the kratom community was once again quick to respond.
Initially, the AKA sent out a mass newsletter to inform kratom consumers that the UN and World Health Organization (WHO) were in the process of making kratom illegal on behalf of the FDA. They concluded that the FDA was likely frustrated with the slow progress of attempts to push kratom prohibition through individual states, so they changed their strategy and decided to take their prohibitionist mission to the international level. Having failed at the federal level in 2016 and having lost the blessing of the HHS, it was no longer feasible to make kratom federally illegal.
The United States is constitutionally bound to UN declarations that it signs. Since the US signed onto the Convention on Psychotropic Substances of 1971, Congress is required to make any substance illegal that finds its way onto the UN’s list of controlled substances. This would allow the FDA and the DEA to effectively skirt the need to supply the evidence required to ban a substance in the United States, and render the failure to prohibit kratom domestically null and void.
Kratom advocates submitted over 70,000 comments against the prohibition to the FDA via the Federal Register. The AKA organized dozens of scientists and researchers to present their work on kratom to the WHO. By the time the hearing date came around, kratom advocates were ready for a fight. The strategy at the WHO meeting was to present as much evidence regarding the safety of kratom as possible, and science was on the side of kratom. Point by point, kratom advocates and scientists refuted each false claim made against kratom, proving they were unsubstantiated. On November 18th, 2021, the WHO’s Expert Panel of Drug Dependence concluded that “there is insufficient evidence to recommend a critical review of kratom.”
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The KCPA has a distinct focus on health and safety regulations. It recognizes that contamination and adulteration are real and dangerous, and any adverse effects resulting from contamination would be spun by the media and prohibitionists to further harm kratom’s reputation. The strategy, then, is to lean into the robust safety profile of kratom to ensure its longevity. The largest kratom businesses have also banded together to enact quality control measures and perform audits on themselves to prove that they are adhering to food grade cGMP (commercial Good Manufacturing Practice) standards. This is not a cheap or easy process, but the effort is undertaken to show in good faith that the industry is mature and responsible.
Finally, the role of normalizing the use of a substance plays a significant role in the fight against prohibitionists. Generally, getting a majority to oppose prohibition (as 91% of Americans feel towards cannabis) is the goal of all grassroots anti-prohibitionists. As such, there have been a few attempts to personalize kratom, oftentimes through pathos-driven commercials detailing the story of people who can enjoy life again because of kratom. Today, kratom is increasingly being seen as a household object, as products such as kratom tea bags grow in popularity and broaden the consumer demographic.
Another kratom shot from Top Tree Herbs’ greenhouse
What to Learn About Prohibition From Kratom
Kratom has successfully defeated every federal prohibition attempt made against it in the United States. Six states have made it illegal, but even those states are now considering replacing their bans with the regulatory framework laid out in the KCPA. Thailand, the country with the richest history of kratom use, recently re-legalized it, likely due to the undeniable economic benefit kratom exportation would bring to their country. The WHO and UN, normally aligned on drug policy with the US, couldn’t ignore the overwhelming outpour of grassroots support and unanimous scientific consensus on the safety profile of kratom.
Still, the most impressive feat performed by the kratom community yet was defeating the DEA in 2016. Normally, the DEA has unilateral decision-making power when it comes to prohibiting substances in the United States. That kratom was able to slip their grip suggests that prohibition at large is defeatable. The methods used to defeat kratom prohibition – hiring lobbyists, mobilizing hundreds of thousands of supporters, and convincing Ph.D.s and MDs to testify – should be taken to heart by anyone who finds themselves standing up against prohibition of any sort.
At this very moment, the DEA is attempting to schedule more than half a dozen psychedelic compounds, including DOI and DOC. Together, they have been utilized in over 2,000 peer reviewed scientific publications and have been indispensable to psychedelic research. 4-OH-DiPT, 5-MeO-AMT, 5-MeO-MiPT, 5-MeO-DET, and DiPT are also slated to be scheduled soon, which would prevent further study of their effects. (DiPT, for example, causes novel auditory distortions which have the potential to elucidate the mysteries of auditory neural-processing.) Some journalists and advocates have stepped up to the plate to fight the DEA for their continuation of prohibition. However, a united psychedelic front hasn’t emerged, which kratom advocates have argued as being essential to stopping these bans.
Like psychedelics, kratom has a storied history of use. Both have been devastated by prohibition, but the true test of their merit is shown in their phoenix-like ability to continually inspire consumers to fight for their legality. Use of a substance – any substance – is not justification to imprison someone. Prohibition exponentially raises the possibility of harm that comes with consuming any substance by preventing education, quality control, and normalization. We must expand our scope to include more than psychedelics in our advocacy. Prohibition needs to end, and the clues to victory may just be found in the story of a tropical tea leaf.
A graphic Top Tree Herbs made when fighting the UN
On the eve before the final vote, Jon Dennis, Esq. shares his thoughts.
If you don’t know Jon Dennis yet, he’s an activist and attorney leading the charge for affordable community access and religious freedom under Oregon’s Measure 109 program, as well as the co-host of our Eyes on Oregon series. He’s been involved in many of the official Oregon Health Authority (OHA) Subcommittee meetings and has been keeping us up to date with everything going on in Oregon.
This week is the week many in the psychedelic community have been working toward and excitedly anticipating, as Wednesday, May 25th is the day the Oregon Psilocybin Advisory Board (OPAB) will make its final vote on whether to recommend allowing a community-use paradigm of psilocybin services that Jon and so many others have been advocating for.
To hopefully bring even more attention to this landmark event, we thought it’d be helpful to share the comment Jon sent to the OHA, as it perfectly summarizes why his proposed entheogenic practitioners framework is so important.
We invite Oregon rulemakers to read Jon’s succinct overview of the issues in advance of their Wednesday vote.
“There is a growing social movement that believes access to psychedelics is a fundamental civil and human right that should be denied to no person. Members of this movement consider psychedelic freedom to be the maligned cousin of religious freedom. For some people, they are the same or very closely intertwined.
Pew Research data show that only 49% of people report ever having had a mystical experience in their entire lives, which is defined as a “moment of sudden religious insight or awakening.” Also, 49% of respondents to your Community Interest Survey on psilocybin under M109 said they were interested in psilocybin for spiritual reasons.
The fastest growing category of religious self-identification in the United States is people who identify as “spiritual but not religious.” For a growing number of people in our society, religious institutions have come to be viewed with distrust, often because they have inflicted religious trauma on people who’ve come in search of healing. When I began talking about the proposed religious use framework under M109, I was initially amazed at the amount of criticism I got on account of it protecting “religions.” People liked the community access model, but they thought they wouldn’t benefit from it because “religion” for them has become obsolete.
I believe, as many do, that we are undergoing a spiritual crisis. Martin Luther King warned that a society that is addicted to war and ignores its problems of racism and poverty “is approaching spiritual death.” There is growing recognition that we have the analytical and technical solutions required to solve many of the world’s greatest problems but lack the social and political will. King recommended that we become less of a “thing-oriented society” and more of a “person-oriented society.”
I see these problems as spiritual in nature and believe they might be solvable only through spiritual solutions.
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Oregon is about to begin a great experiment of introducing legal adult-use psychedelics into mainstream Western society through its safe and legal container of Measure 109. So far as I can tell, nearly everyone who works with psilocybin or other psychedelics in a sincere and personal manner believes that psychedelics have the potential to help us breathe some much-needed spiritual life into society. We believe adoption of an affordable community-access model of psilocybin services to be a moral imperative.
An expensive program in Oregon creates a new kind of religious or spiritual inequity that I don’t think we are capable of fully comprehending yet, but it clearly exacerbates other types of social problems that already plague us.
“Affordable access for all people” doesn’t mean that everyone should take psychedelics. I view the question of whether to take psychedelics as a big decision that should be made only after careful consideration of a number of things. One of the best promises of the M109 system, from my perspective, is that people will be required to consider some of these things before they make potentially life-altering decisions, and that people can agree to purchase these potentially-profound and potentially-destabilizing psilocybin experiences only after giving informed consent. The other great M109 promises: Support is available before, during, and after the experience; there will be a lot more oversight and accountability; a lot more access to medical and legal assistance; and people won’t really have to fear going to jail. This framework is a light-years-leap forward in terms of the safeguards of the so-called “unregulated market.” It really is quite brilliant.
Within the M109 framework, the harms that could be caused by untested, community-grown mushrooms would be practically non-existent in the context of sincere community use and cannot be used as an honest justification for rules that would effectively require communities who work with psilocybin to procure their community sacrament through commercial channels. When regulations drive up costs without serving important government interests, they raise paywalls, deepen inequities, and further racial, gender, class, and other divides.
Affordable, community-grown mushrooms would decrease paywalls and, contrary to the position announced in your Fiscal and Economic Impact Statement, actually drive more of the unregulated market into the safety of the M109 container. More people will take psilocybin under M109 if its costs are considered by consumers to be justifiable when compared with the unregulated market.
Moreover, many religious and spiritual communities who work with psilocybin report having a relationship with the living psilocybin organism that can only be described as sacred. Under federal jurisprudence, religious freedom laws require a “compelling government interest” in order for the government to have any say on how a religious community grows, handles, stores, consumes, or discards their psychedelic sacraments. And (assuming arguendo that the government might have a compelling interest here), any time a government deigns to enforce laws that burden free religious exercise, under federal jurisprudence, it must still tread carefully and impair religious freedom only by “the least restrictive means” of doing so.
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Sincere religious communities are publicly saying that they intend to operate under Measure 109, and it is only right that the State consider the regulation of these organizations in light of the broad federal protections that now exist under the Religious Freedom Restoration Act – and which were, in fact, enacted in reaction to Oregon’s allowing members of the Native American Church to be fired for practicing their religion, which uses peyote.
Oregon isn’t a state that generally tries to short-change people on civil liberties issues.
The ask here is that you permit Oregonians to take and use the non-Western medicine in ways that reflect non-Western paradigms of health and wellness. The truth is: potency-testing is part of a Western paradigm, and psilocybin has always been a non-Western medicine. It is exciting to witness the power of psilocybin beginning to be harnessed by skillful Western medical practitioners, but Western practitioners are relatively new to the psilocybin and the psychedelic scene. It is appropriate for us Westerners to defer to Indigenous voices when their experience surpasses our own, and to incorporate their wisdom and experience into our “Oregon Model.” I believe we can do this if only we make sure these psilocybin regulations aren’t too rigid or too heavy handed.
The entheogenic practitioner framework and manufacturing endorsement work together to do two things:
Honor the religious liberties of sincere religious practitioners who work with psilocybin; and
Create an affordable community-access model and community container for psilocybin services.
A one-size-fits-all system would treat churches and other community-owned nonprofit organizations the same way as luxury resorts. This is out of touch with federal religious freedom laws and raises unnecessary paywalls for 520,000 Oregonians who live in poverty.
I hope you will consider these things when you decide how to balance safety and access.
Yours in service,
Jon Dennis”
Stay tuned for updates and analysis after Wednesday’s vote, as the coming weeks will bring forth a revamped Eyes on Oregon podcast, as well as a new series exploring Oregon’s emerging psychedelic marketplace through the lens of lawyers.
A progress update on the Oregon Health Authority, Measure 109, and religious liberty.
It turns out a whole lot of people care about religious and spiritual freedom issues surrounding psilocybin. A few weeks ago, Oregon had two public hearings on its proposed psilocybin rules on products, testing, and facilitator training. The overwhelming majority of the public testimony received was in support of religious freedom, affordable access, and the community container for psilocybin service. The support was so overwhelming during the first meeting that I tried to keep tabs on the second meeting. I counted 31 total comments that were received. 24 of those 31 – or 74%! – voiced support for the adoption of the entheogenic practitioners framework for safely regulating community-based practice. I do not believe a single person testified in opposition to its adoption.
Additionally, we are starting to receive written comments that people and organizations have submitted to the Oregon Health Authority (OHA).
David Bronner, CEO of Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soaps, has published his comments to OHA about the proposed rules, in which he recommends adopting the proposal in whole and even making some of the provisions around safe, affordable ceremony applicable to the entire M109 program. You can read his statement here.
Concisely: (1) Psilocybin in mushrooms or as synthesized substance provides access to many different states of human awareness, some powerfully facilitative of psychological and/or spiritual development; (2) The safety and probability of benefit are best ensured when preparation/education is provided in the context of a supportive relationship or community, either in a framework of mental health or of religious care; (3) When wisely integrated into our culture, psilocybin may well significantly decrease human suffering and promote the fuller realization of values such as peace, respect for diversity and compassion; (4) Access to this molecular tool for those who desire it, whether in medical or religious contexts, may be seen as a fundamental human right to explore our own minds.
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“Currently, no state or federal law protects religious communities or practitioners who utilize psilocybin from being prosecuted by Oregon law enforcement. As charitable non-profit organizations, most if not all of these communities and practitioners lack the resources to hire attorneys to secure their rights. Measure 109 promised to welcome these communities into a legitimate legal framework. However, we believe that some of the proposed rules for implementing Measure 109 would substantially burden such communities and force them to operate illegally while remaining in the shadows.”
It also points out the following: “We note nearly half (49%) of the respondents to your Community Interest Survey indicated that their interest in accessing psilocybin under Measure 109 was for spiritual purposes. For context, the interest in spirituality ranks higher than interest in psilocybin for trauma-related issues (47%), addiction and substance use (17%), end of life psychological distress (10%), or “other” reasons (9%).”
It also offers some legal analysis to show that, based on the language of M109, Oregon has the legal rulemaking authority to protect religious practice. Here’s just one example:
“…Subsection (C) empowers the OHA to regulate the use of psilocybin products and psilocybin services ‘for other purposes’ deemed necessary or appropriate by the authority. The phrase ‘for other purposes’ indicates that the OHA may create rules that achieve purposes that are not explicitly stated in sections 3 to 129 or implied from them. This too means that OHA can create rules for the purposes of accommodating religious practice.”
You can view or download their full statement here:
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“Affordable access to psychedelic healing is perhaps a wholly new equity issue that touches on racial, health, and spiritual equity. Equity means affordable access. Lack of affordability reinforces inequity that exists around race, gender, and class lines. We believe access to psychedelics to be a means of promoting spiritual equity, that we not create “spiritual privilege” as a function of socio-economic privilege. Equity also means culturally-sensitive. It must not impose Western medical paradigms on non- Western approaches to psilocybin.“
You can view or download their full statement here:
The Oregon Health Authority will be publishing its written summary of the public comments soon. Stay tuned to hear how Oregon responds to the public outcry to protect religious and spiritual communities!
For those who have been following closely, a revised edition of the proposal for the entheogenic practitioners framework can be viewed/downloaded here.
Please note that we are continually striving to improve upon this document and welcome feedback on how we can make aboveground entheogenic practice safe and affordable for all.
Additionally, Eyes on Oregon will be changing shape over the coming month, from a somewhat sporadic web series into a more traditional and more regularly-released podcast. I will be hosting and interviewing various people from the frontlines in Oregon, with Joe joining when he is able. With so much happening, there’s a lot to talk about, and we hope you tune in.
This week, we celebrated a humbling achievement at Psychedelics Today: three million unique downloads of the Psychedelics Today podcast!
This milestone couldn’t come at a more fitting time. It seems like the stars are aligning and shining a spotlight on progress in psychedelics, with Bicycle Day and the kickoff of our new, 12-month practitioner training program, Vital, both occurring in a 48-hour window last week. Amidst it all, the podcast download counter kept going, and rolled over to an incredible three million just a few days later. We couldn’t be more grateful to all our listeners who enjoy, support, and engage with the podcast. You’ve helped Psychedelics Today get to where we are simply by tuning in.
Psychedelics Today has also achieved the #9 rank of all Apple Life Sciences podcasts in the United States, and it stands alone as the only psychedelics-themed podcast in the Top 100 list!
When it comes to podcast guests, we’ve been lucky over the years. Our team has recorded with many world-renowned figures in psychedelic science, culture, and advocacy. But from the day we started recording in 2016, we wanted the Psychedelics Today podcast to be more than a platform for well-known figures.
Intentionally, we’ve made ample space for conversations with people who are quietly doing important work behind the scenes, too. Because this is an area of great complexity and one in which experience matters, the Psychedelics Today podcast is designed to give listeners a richness in perspective they won’t find anywhere else.
Thank you for taking the time to listen to us. We are humbled by your support and your willingness to listen to all that we and our guests have to say – which, over the past six years, has been more than a mouthful.
Looking for some essential listening? These are the Top 8 most downloaded Psychedelics Today podcasts of all-time, and some of our favorite discussions:
Joe had been raving about Dr. Carl Hart’s Drug Use for Grown-Ups: Chasing Liberty in the Land of Fear for months before we were able to get him on, and the nearly 2-hour conversation shows just how much Hart’s views align with ours: that the drug war is doing exactly what those in power created it for, that drug exceptionalism and only seeing one path towards progress is limiting, that our job is to use facts and logic to battle inaccuracies and people clearly pushing a false narrative, and that drugs can be fun and coming out of the closet about responsible drug use only opens up the dialogue more.
This is one of Kyle’s favorites, since it highlighted so much about cognitive liberty and failed drug policy – two ideas central to the Psychedelics Today ethos. And it may be Joe’s favorite episode: “That was a scary one, because I wanted to do it so well and I respect him so much, that I’m like, ‘Can we do this well?’ And we did. So please check that one out. That one’s really important to me.”
“When these people say that they are worried about drug addiction or [that] what I’m saying might increase drug addiction, that’s some bullshit distraction. If you’re really worried about the negative effects of drug addiction, you would make sure everybody in your society is working. You’d make sure they all have health care. You’d make sure that basic needs were handled. Because if you did those things, you don’t have to worry about drug addiction.”
Manesh Girn is a Ph.D. candidate in Neuroscience at McGill University and co-author of over a dozen scientific publications, most recently on the neurocognitive processes behind creative thinking and the potentiality for psychedelics to enhance creativity. He’s been on the podcast twice, runs a YouTube channel called The Psychedelic Scientist, and is now part of the Vital faculty as well.
This one went deep into a lot of neuroscience; covering neuroplasticity, the similarities between psychedelic mind states and dream states, distinctions in creativity, how psilocybin can affect creativity, and the complicated idea of ego dissolution: Do we really understand what it is? Do ego death and a mystical experience always have to go hand-in-hand?
“Other research has exclusively linked psychedelic experiences to the dream state, and seeing that they’re phenomenologically similar. There’s a lot of overlap in a number of different ways of looking at it. So then, on the basis of that, I was like, ok, so if we conceptualize psychedelics as almost being like dreaming (but awake), then that could be a great source of novel ideas and creative ideas because you’re now in this mental state that’s unconstrained by logic, it’s unconstrained by a need to make sense, and you can get this more free flow of ideas.”
Before Michelle was a member of the PT team and featured in many solidarity Friday episodes (and a follow-up to this episode on Magic Mushroom day), we just knew her as an extremely knowledgeable mushroom connoisseur and the author of Your Psilocybin Mushroom Companion, an easy-to-use guide to understanding magic mushrooms, trips, microdosing, and psychedelic therapy. Reflecting back, Joe said: “Michelle saw that there [weren’t] really great resources for people and put this book together. …I actually don’t know of anything better that’s mushroom-specific, still to this day.”
In the episode, she tells her story and why she wanted to write the book, which she also talked a lot about on Solidarity Friday episodes: that despite what many mainstream minds will tell you, there isn’t one right way to use psilocybin.
“As long as you’re being safe with your surroundings and with yourself, any way is the right way.”
In this episode, Joe interviewed computational neurobiologist, pharmacologist, chemist, and writer, Dr. Andrew Gallimore; one of the world’s most knowledgeable researchers on DMT. They discussed all things DMT, from entity encounters to his intravenous infusion model, which would allow a timed and steady release of DMT to induce an extended-state DMT experience – the goal being to slowly make that space more stable (and comprehensible) over time, to eventually live in the DMT space as you would in this reality. “We’ve nerded out and talked about the extended state DMT stuff for a bit. That’s highly fascinating,” said Kyle.
“We know how the brain learns to construct worlds, but we don’t know how the brain learns to construct DMT worlds.”
In this episode, Joe and Kyle finally got to interview legendary author and microdosing popularizer, James Fadiman, Ph.D. Fadiman talked about transpersonal psychology, microdosing and how it emerged, how researchers are finally starting to look at brain waves of microdosers, and his newest book, Your Symphony of Selves: Discover and Understand More of Who We Are, which says that we are all made up of different selves which take lead depending on the situation.
Kyle (who has an undergraduate degree in transpersonal psychology) lists this as one of his favorites, as Fadiman laid out the emergence of transpersonal psychology and the early days of the Transpersonal Association: “I think one of my favorite parts about this was just exploring some of the history of transpersonal psychology. It was really cool to chat with him about that.” Joe added: “He was there. He is named as one of the 4, 5 people, in a sense ‘in the room’ when this came about. He’s got a lot of connection to this stuff.”
“The secret of microdosing is if you’re noticing it, that’s a little too high a dose. …The perfect definition of a microdose is: You have a really good day; you get things done that you’ve been putting off; you’re nice to someone at work who doesn’t deserve it; after work, you do one more set of reps at the gym than you usually do; you really enjoy your kids; and at the end of the day, you say, ‘Oh, I forgot I had a microdose.’”
In this episode, Joe interviewed Wade Davis: Ph.D., Professor of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia, explorer, ethnobotanist, star of the recent documentary, “El Sendero de la Anaconda,” and author of several books, including the bestseller, The Serpent and the Rainbow.
Davis discussed his history with Richard Evans Schultes, the strange phenomenon behind the growth of ayahuasca, Haitian zombies, Voodoo, and Colombia and its relationship with cocaine and coca. This one covered a lot of ground other podcasts haven’t, and it was awesome to have him on, as Joe called him “possibly the most famous person on the show, other than number 1.”
“This quest for individual health and healing, for individual enlightenment, individual growth – which, at some level, is completely understandable, but it is also a reflection, in good measure, of our own culture of self; the ongoing center of narcissism, the idea that one’s purpose in life is to advance one’s own spiritual path or one’s own destiny – that is, in my experience, very much not what is going on in the traditional reaches of the northwest Amazon, where the plant (the medicine) both originated, but also, where today, it’s taken very much as a collective experience, such that the ritual itself becomes a prayer for the continuity and the wellbeing of the people themselves – where you’d never even think of this in terms of Self or I.”
In this episode, Kyle and Joe interviewed Chris Bache, author of LSD and the Mind of the Universe: Diamonds from Heaven. Bache talked about music in psychedelic sessions, the debate on whether facilitators should have experiences before helping others, and the five levels of the universe as he understands them. But he mostly discussed what he learned about psychedelics, the universe, and integration from going through 73 high-dose LSD sessions (after which, he doesn’t recommend working with high doses).
Looking back, Joe said, “I think the most important part are his lessons learned and like, ‘What would you have done if you knew what you knew now? What would your protocol have been?’ I think that’s a big deal. [There’s] no way for him to go back in time but we can all learn from what he did.”
“We are moving toward a collective wake up, it’s not a personal experience, it’s a collective experience – an evolution of our species.”
While most of these episodes have been in the Top 8 for a while, we knew James Fadiman would likely end up here pretty quickly. And we were all certain that it would take no time at all for Hamilton Morris’ episode to take the top spot (also by far our most-viewed YouTube video, even though we weren’t even able to record video for the episode). How could it not take the top spot? From his work with Vice, Morris has become the go-to media consultant around psychedelics, and specifically new psychedelics, as many consider him to be the next Sasha Shulgin.
While they discussed what you’d expect (including his controversial 5-MeO-DMT episodes of “Hamilton’s Pharmacopeia”), this episode is especially notable because it’s the first time Morris had really publicly talked about his relationship with Compass Pathways – a development seen as problematic by many in the space, but a relationship that’s helping him create massive amounts of new compounds week after week.
This was an in-person recording, as Joe traveled to the University of the Sciences in Philadelphia to meet him, and they recorded just outside Morris’ lab. “It was fun,” Joe said. “[I’m] really grateful for Hamilton spending time talking to us and going into some of these fun topics.”
“Yes, there are very serious differences between [psychedelics and other drugs], but if we fall into the same moral binary, then we’re ultimately no better than people that think that the distinction between licit and illicit drugs is a pharmacologically or medically meaningful distinction.”
In this brand new CE-approved series, Kyle, Veronika Gold, and experts in trauma and ketamine-assisted therapy (KAP) explore the ethical and compassionate uses of KAP in the treatment of trauma and post-traumatic stress disorder. Sign up now!
Psychedelics Today Team Recommendations
The members of the team who have been here the longest (and therefore listened to years worth of episodes) talked about some of our favorite episodes as well, and we thought it’d be cool to share which ones we liked the most.
Joe’s picks:
Having been involved in the majority of episodes, Joe was a bit overwhelmed with this question. Dr. Carl Hart’s episode was the first he mentioned, but these were some he particularly liked as well:
“Grof’s work has been at the foundation of PT, so this episode felt like a huge milestone for us and I’m so grateful for Stan and Brigitte’s time,” said Kyle. “One thing I really enjoyed about this episode was hearing what Grof’s vision is for the future of psychedelics.” A few others he really enjoyed were more recent:
In addition to managing several projects, Marisa handles most of our social media, our affiliate programs, and contributes a lot of art and graphics. Marisa wrote the show notes for each episode up until June of 2020. “There are so many episodes that I love, but the ones that make me feel are the ones that resonate.” She particularly loved these three:
“These episodes stand out to me because they are extremely moving stories of how psychedelics have the power to heal, leaving me in tears of inspiration.”
Rob’s picks:
Other than the very early episodes, every episode of Psychedelics Today sounds much better than it originally did because of Rob’s work. In addition to being our main audio engineer, he’s helped with video on many courses at our Psychedelic Education Center. The episodes that came to him right away were:
I didn’t listen to many episodes before (sorry, Joe), but since I took over writing the show notes in June of 2020, I’ve listened to every one. Dr. Carl Hart was also one of my favorites, and although it was hard to listen to, I strongly recommend the same Dena Justice episode Marisa picked. Other than those, the ones that stand out to me are the episodes that make me think of things differently or present opposing viewpoints to what we’re used to. A few that instantly come to mind are:
Between our regular Tuesday episodes and different Friday episodes (Solidarity Fridays and Vital Psychedelic Conversations), there are over 400 episodes of Psychedelics Today to listen to. And the best news of all? With that many episodes and three million downloads now under our collective belt, we’re just getting started.
Keep listening, and we’ll keep bringing you psychedelic conversations that you won’t hear anywhere else.
Follow the Psychedelics Today Podcast on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, or wherever you like to listen. Have an idea for a podcast theme or guest? Was there a guest that blew your mind who you want to hear from again? Do you have feedback about how we can make the show better? Connect with our team on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Instagram or by email at info@psychedelicstoday.com.
The continued exploitation of this fragile species for its DMT encapsulates narcissism itself.
Until recently, the Sonoran desert toad, Incilius alvarius (formerly Bufo alvarius) was not on my wildlife-watch radar. Then an email from the owner of a group of psychedelic retreat centers operating in Latin America, Portugal, and the Netherlands brought the greenish brownish warty native of the Sonoran desert to my attention. He was writing to let me know that the personality disorder of narcissism, the toxic world-killer which has brought life on Earth to an environmental and climatological precipice, could be cured – with psychedelics. Specifically with “Toad Venom.”
“With expert guidance and facilitation, psychedelics can help us… be collectively healthy, happy, and harmonious in the stewardship of our planet,” he wrote.
Curious, I clicked on a link for a “Transformational Bufo Alvarius Retreat (5-MeO-DMT, Toad Venom).” According to the ad, “5-MeO-DMT, also known as the sacred toad medicine, is a beautiful teacher that can lead to profound transformation when facilitated by experienced guides,” and they would be offering dimethyltryptamine (DMT) in its 5-MeO-DMT – toad form – as the chemically mediated gateway to this process.
As something of an expert in identifying displays of cognitive dissonance, the suggestion that exploiting a toad in the interest of curing Homo sapiens of his most reprehensible trait was not sneaking past my cognitive threshold.
Toads, Poaching, and Indigenous Use
I love amphibians. I always have. When I lived in Kenya as a teenager, the red legged Hyperolius viridiflavus flashed from reed to reed in the dam below the house; on a trip to Madagascar, I observed the tomato frog, Dyscophys antongilii, sequestered in a storm drain in a village; near my former home in the Sierra Nevadas, the mountain yellow-legged frog, Rana muscosa chirped in mountain lakes every spring.
Worldwide, amphibians are the most threatened class of vertebrates on the planet. Although thought to be abundant in its home range of the Mexican state of Sonora and parts of Arizona, the Sonoran desert toad is on endangered species lists in both California and New Mexico. In Arizona, a fishing license grants collection of up to ten live Sonoran toads. Shipping them to another state or abroad is illegal and prosecutable, as is possession of the psychedelic 5-MeO-DMT.
Increased toad poaching and illegal transport across state borders and the US-Mexico border has recently triggered the Lacey Act, which prohibits import, export, sale, acquisition or purchase of fish, wildlife or plants transported, or sold in violation of US, Indian or international law. Law enforcement agents for the US Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) confirmed they are currently carrying out an investigation. Whether their efforts are successful in reducing illegal trade remains to be seen.
The now discredited hypothesis that Indigenous groups used a hallucinogenic compound derived from toads was put forth by anthropologist Dr. Jeannette Runquist, and reported in a 1981 issue of Omni Magazine. She described decapitated toad skeletons buried near excavations of ancient Cherokee encampments in North Carolina, and wrongly inferred that what was, in fact, food waste as the telltale sign of Indigenous mysticism.
“Food trash was taken for psychedelic magic,” said Robert Villa, Research Associate, Tumamoc Desert Laboratory, Tucson, Arizona, and President of the Tucson Herpetological Society. “Toads were skinned and eaten as survival food, as part of the ordinary diet.”
Despite claims on the part of modern healers, there is no evidence in the archeological record of toads being used ceremonially by Indigenous groups in the Americas.
“For such a significant smoke, there would have to be some record of it,” said Mr. Villa. “Even though Indigenous cultures can be good at hiding things from outside inquisition, this is too significant to go unnoticed,” he said. “The significance of the toad in Indigenous culture isn’t what people want to believe,” said Mr. Villa. One of his goals is “to stop the appropriation of Indigenous culture around the Sonoran desert toad. All of the archeological leads are dead ends.” Using the abundant depictions of toads in Mesoamerican culture to bolster the specious claim that the toads were used in psychedelic rituals represents cultural hijacking.
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For ancient cultures, the life cycle of the Sonoran toad embodied rebirth and renewal. Its seasonal appearance – they spend ten months of the year underground, emerging briefly in July and August during the rainy season to mate and reproduce – as well as its complex life cycle, which involves metamorphosis from a water-dwelling, gill-breathing, fish-like tadpole to land-dwelling, four-legged adult toad adds to its supernatural aura.
“They were thought to interact with gods of the underworld,” said Mr. Villa. In Sonora, locals avoid them as toxic. Among the Indigenous groups in northern Mexico, their appearance is associated with the arrival of seasonal rains. Disturbing them is an accursed act which can disrupt weather patterns. “You could incur damages from the gods in the form of drought or flooding if you harass a toad,” he said.
The evidence, according to Mr. Villa and other scientists who have explored the natural history of Incilius alvarius, indicates extracting and smoking toad-derived 5-MeO-DMT is a post-industrial phenomenon. It has nothing to do with cultural tradition. In recent years, however, “smoking toad” has become the new psychedelic fad, making Incilius alvarius the latest must-have in the growing list of psychedelic consumables. And in response to increasing demand from the tourism and retreat industries, one Mexican coastal group whose members have subsisted on tourism – mostly selling ironwood carvings to foreigners – have begun peddling Sonoran toad medicine to foreigners.
“The Seri, or Comcaac[an Indigenous group living on the mainland coast of the Gulf of California] adopted toad magic and medicine as a tourism item. They’re trying to make a living by facilitating people smoking this stuff. It’s not part of their history,” said Mr. Villa.
There is hearsay evidence, according to Mr. Villa, that regional cartels have begun exploiting this practice as well, as further means to extort locals in the interest of serving what is becoming a global trade.
Bufo alvarius:the Psychedelic Toad of the Sonoran Desert
The entry of toad medicine into modern psychedelia is itself a twisted tale. Back in 1981, the Omni article piqued the interest of one reclusive resident of Denton, Texas, named Ken Nelson. While studying at the University of North Texas, Mr. Nelson commenced an earnest inquiry into toad skin secretions. He came across the work of the Italian toxicologist Dr. Vittorio Erspamer, whose most important contribution to neuroscience was the identification and synthesis of the neurotransmitter, serotonin. As a toxicologist, Dr. Erspamer was most interested in the exudate from amphibian parotid glands as a possible source of new medical drugs. His chemical analysis of the venom from 40 toad species serendipitously yielded the finding Nelson had hoped for: one species, Incilius alvarius synthesized a DMT-containing substance. Mr. Nelson documented his discovery and techniques for extracting, drying and smoking 5-MeO-DMT in his 1984 pamphlet: “Bufo alvarius: the Psychedelic Toad of the Sonoran Desert,” which he published privately under the pseudonym, Albert Most.**
Hear about Hamilton Morris’ connection to the book in episode 268!
Unwittingly, Mr. Nelson opened a Pandora’s box. Since then, a fabricated sacred mysticism has evolved around Incilius alvarius and the DMT squeezed from its glands. Despite the explicit wishes of Mr. Nelson, an ardent conservationist, who towards the end of his life expressed concerns about the ecological repercussions from misrepresentation of his work, use of 5-MeO-DMT has skyrocketed in recent years. Even though DMT can be fabricated in a lab with legal, commercially available chemical precursors, many practitioners – such as the retreat proprietor – adhere to a new age belief that there is something mystically special about DMT extracted from live toads.
I questioned the proprietor of the psychedelic retreat about the authenticity of his claims about 5-MeO-DMT. Why could he not use the lab-formulated version? Endangering the life of a wild animal in order to cure narcissism did not jive with his stated intentions. This fat little toad about the size of my hand was the embodiment of nature itself; and yet he as a Caucasian, self-styled psychedelic healer was exploiting it as a commodity. The toad had no say in its own destiny.
The proprietor responded by invoking an unknowable mystical consciousness with which he and his associates – the people responsible for collecting toad venom – were imbued. “We know what we are doing is for the good of humankind, in keeping with the sacred spirit of those who have preceded [us] in this practice,” he said. Those who collect the toad, he said, are performing a consecrated task. One of his practitioners, a Swedish man who guides DMT sessions at his retreats, described collection and use of the toad as a sacrament: “I only order [5-MeO-DMT] through sources I know,” he said. “It’s energy medicine, so the energy has to be right.” The source, he said, was a Mexican friend who has tribal connections and harvests the medicine directly. He would never use toads gathered the way he’d seen in videos – en masse and thrown in garbage bags.
“My sources milk toads once a year. They do it with respect and prayers. They put the toads back in the same location. They mark the toads so they don’t milk them several times.” Safety and purity, he said, were of the utmost importance.
Knowing what I know, the invocation of sacred ancestral spirits looked a lot like chicanery. The toad was the prima facie victim of narcissism.
Identification with the Divine as a way to aggrandize oneself out of personal responsibility is, unfortunately, an all-too-common maneuver in psychedelic circles. This reflexive hopscotch affords participants the luxury of justifying anything they do: their particular psychedelic experiences are so sacred and important, normal rules do not apply. Any rules, all rules – whether psychological, medical, scientific, or ethical.
“Piaget’s concepts of schema and assimilation (vs. accommodation) seem relevant for understanding many of the less desirable potential outcomes of psychedelic use, including worsened narcissism, spiritual bypassing, guruism, unethical business practice, and bad music taste,” noted psychotherapist Max Wolff wryly in a tweet.
Assimilation occurs when we modify received information to fit with our existing knowledge and assumptions. Accommodation occurs when we reshape our perceptions in response to problems posed by the environment. We restructure what we already know so that new information can enter our universes. In the psychedelic space, real learning is so rare it is nothing short of miraculous. Most of the time, psychedelic experiences are no more transformative than a day trip to Disneyland.
Although practitioners and hobbyists argue they don’t harm the toad when they milk its glands, Mr. Villa points out toads are harmed when they are handled and moved; and collecting and transporting the toads is tantamount to killing them. “They’re very territorial,” he said. “Imagine if someone picked you from your house, put you in a sack and then moved you to the Saudi Arabian desert and left you there. Would you survive? Would you know how to get home?”
Toad Populations and a Moral Travesty
The biggest impediment to toad conservation, said Mr. Villa, is the absence of real population data. “To identify the problem, we have to have a snapshot of the past, a baseline. We don’t have that.”
The toad’s life cycle itself presents a challenge to population assessment. For most of the year, mature adults live underground in a quiescent state. They emerge when it starts raining, and there’s a breeding frenzy. Adult toads are conspicuous for about a month, then they go underground again. Tadpoles can be seen swimming in surface ponds until they mature. If there’s a lengthy drought, the subterranean toads survive in a state of something like suspended animation for years, making live populations hard to count. Years can pass when very few are observed. A rainstorm, and there are thousands where there were none.
“We think they live a long time,” said Thomas R. Jones, Ph.D., Amphibians and Reptiles Program Manager for the Arizona Department of Game and Fish. “We don’t think three or even more years of poor rainfall affects the toads. They persist. When it finally rains, they come back out again,” he said.
The Arizona Department of Game and Fish has been monitoring a population at one site, but the data don’t account for the toads’ vast range, which stretches from the Sonoran desert in northern Mexico through Arizona and parts of New Mexico. Climate change, habitat destruction, and increased poaching add further obstacles. A local population in southeastern California was extirpated decades ago. None have been observed since the 1970s.
Counting their numbers does not address the fundamental problem with exploiting the toads, though, as reducing an amphibian member of the Sonoran desert ecosystem into raw material in service of a global supply chain is a moral travesty.
“Solutions most people conceive of as viable are implicitly biased by capitalism,” said Mr. Villa. “You might hear: ‘We’ll just breed them in captivity.’ In Hungary, there’s a small-scale operator doing it. Most captive breeding programs fail in some way.” There’s the problem of crowding, of waste water contamination, and of the captive animals becoming reservoirs for amphibian diseases like chytrid. The idea of breeding something to exploit is itself repugnant to Mr. Villa.
“There are more cogs than people really understand when it comes to this,” said Mr. Villa. “Few people have the ability to contemplate whether what they’re consuming is directly exploiting Indigenous people or an ecosystem. Does someone smoking 5-MeO-DMT in an east coast city consider whether they’re directly or indirectly exploiting someone down the supply chain?”
Chemists who formulate DMT have concluded there is no qualitative difference between psychedelic trips using the lab-made product and 5-MeO-DMT extracted from the toad’s parotid gland. Although the argument has been made that other compounds such as bufotenine, another tryptamine psychedelic found in low concentrations in some toad secretions, can contribute a certain je ne sais quoi to the experience, repeated testing of Incilius alvarius secretions yielded negligible bufotenine concentrations. There is no entourage effect. Furthermore, chemically and metabolically, formulated DMT is far purer. Samples of the dried toad secretion typically contain about 30 percent 5-MeO-DMT by mass. The remaining 70 percent is composed mostly of salts, proteins, and other high molecular weight chemicals. In other words, it’s saliva.
To suggest there’s anything special about 5-MeO-DMT flouts an established, well-respected component of the psychedelic tradition. More than any other factor, the subject’s own mindset – part of the psychedelic “set and setting” equation – determines how the trip goes.
5-MeO-DMT extracted from Incilius alvarius won’t cure narcissism. Projecting our spiritual expectations onto a toad only harms the toad.
*Goncalves de Lima, O. (1946). Observacio es sobre o “vinho de Jurema” utilizado pelos indios Pancaru’ de Tacaratu’ (Pernambuco) [Observations on the “vinho de Jurema” used by the Pancaru’ Indians of Tacaratu’ (Pernambuco)]. Ariquivos do Instituto de Pesquisas Agronomicas, 4, 45–80.
**Most, Albert. Bufo alvarius: the Psychedelic Toad of the Sonoran Desert. 1984; updated 2020. Venom Press. Denton, Texas. The 2020 updated edition contains detailed instructions for synthesizing DMT in a lab.
Health Canada’s recent SAP revision brings a new opportunity for patients and a clear responsibility for prescribers.
Health Canada’s recent decision to include psychedelic medicines in its Special Access Program (SAP) was met with a lot of fanfare. The SAP amendment brings good news for certain patients – specifically, treatment-resistant patients suffering from serious mental health conditions that impact individuals, families, and communities.
The new federal amendment has the potential to fill a critical gap for patients in need, including those suffering from depression, PTSD, and end-of-life anxiety. Many who suffer from mental health conditions don’t respond fully to current treatments, so there is a significant unmet need for safer and more effective therapies. The change to Health Canada’s SAP now allows physicians, clinics and hospitals to apply for previously restricted drugs for medical use, providing a new option for the patients who need it most.
I applaud the federal government for responding to the grave situation of the patients who aren’t responding to otherwise adequate treatment – and for recognizing the encouraging clinical data around psychedelic-assisted therapy. This SAP revision represents one small but important step on the road to greater access to psychedelic medicine.
Like most opportunities, this one comes with considerable responsibility. Failure to act responsibly could cause harm to individuals and to this evolving area of medicine. However, I believe that the community of experts in psychedelic medicine are ready and willing to support the practitioners who will be administering these therapies to patients.
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What Does the SAP Revision Provide?
Health Canada’s SAP revision adds certain psychedelics, including MDMA and psilocybin, to the list of restricted substances that practitioners can request to treat patients in specific situations. Decisions will be made on a case-by-case basis, and will be reserved for serious treatment-resistant or life-threatening conditions, in instances where other therapies have failed, or are unsuitable or not available in Canada.
The recent amendment reverses regulatory changes made almost a decade ago that prohibited access to restricted drugs (including psychedelics). Historically, practitioners in Canada have been able to apply for unlicensed medications only through Health Canada’s Section 56 exemption – a fairly long and restrictive process. The SAP revision is expected to provide a much quicker review and more rapid access for approved patients.
Obviously, the SAP amendment will not bring broad access to psychedelic medicine in Canada, but ideally will help treatment-resistant patients, and serves as a clear signal that the government is acknowledging the potential of psychedelic medicine as a legitimate treatment option.
Celebrate the Progress, Continue the Push for Approval
To me, the government’s decision to include psychedelics in Canada’s SAP is a key acknowledgement that mental health conditions are being placed on the same footing as physical conditions, and frankly, that’s a shift that’s long overdue. Anyone working in mental health can see that treatment-resistant mental illness is indeed a serious or life-threatening condition, analogous to cancer that hasn’t responded to conventional treatment. But mental health disorders aren’t always viewed with that sense of urgency.
I’ve dedicated a good part of my medical career to raising awareness and advocating for changes in the treatment of mental health issues. I spent more than 30 years as a medical officer and psychiatrist in the Canadian Armed Forces, deploying twice and leading mental health programs in Afghanistan. I served as mental health advisor to the Canadian Forces surgeon general, and led initiatives with Canada and NATO as we explored innovative solutions in mental health. Achieving change in attitudes toward mental health and treatment innovation requires considerable effort and persistence.
We’ve seen modest improvement in mental health care over the years. However, I firmly believe we need to do better in this arena. Far superior advances have been made in the treatment of cancer, heart disease, and many other conditions that take an enormous toll on society and represent a significant medical and economic burden.
Yet in the field of mental health, so many patients continue to suffer without adequate or effective treatment. We must review the data while being mindful that each file or data point represents a person who is struggling. We must work to develop medicines with better results, realizing that mental health disorders affect not only patients, but their families and loved ones, their careers and communities.
During my time as the Chief of Psychiatry, I have experienced firsthand the enormous impact that trauma can have on soldiers and veterans. From mass graves in Rwanda to the battlefields of Kandahar, it’s difficult to see people who are putting their lives on the line to protect their country return home to treatments that will only work for half of them.
So the onus is on us to look for better solutions, to refuse to be satisfied with the status quo and to embrace ALL positive steps forward. In Canada, the inclusion of psychedelics in the SAP is one of those steps. That’s progress worth celebrating.
A growing body of evidence continues to demonstrate that psychedelic-assisted psychotherapies are emerging as a successful treatment option in many indications, from treatment-resistant depression to smoking and alcohol addiction to PTSD, anxiety, and OCD.
In the area of smoking cessation, Dr. Matthew Johnson and his team at Johns Hopkins are planning new studies to build on his team’s ongoing research, including the first government-funded clinical study in 50 years evaluating a psychedelic for therapeutic use. The team’s earlier study reported that 80% of participants who received psychedelic-assisted therapy remained abstinent from smoking at 6 months and 67% remained abstinent at 12 months. Those encouraging results show strong efficacy, and demonstrate clear progress.
We see positive data in other indications as well, including PTSD. MAPS is currently sponsoring MAPP2, the second of two Phase 3 trials studying MDMA-assisted therapy for PTSD. In the first Phase 3 study, 88% of participants with severe PTSD experienced a clinically-significant reduction in PTSD diagnostic scores two months after their third session of MDMA-assisted therapy, compared to 60% of placebo participants. Additionally, 67% of participants in the MDMA group (compared to 32% of participants in the placebo group) no longer met the criteria for PTSD remission two months after the sessions.
When governmental and regulatory agencies endorse the positive early results of new, transformative treatments, we can celebrate this success. And when organizations dedicate funding for continued research in our field, we applaud those decisions. We can use every bit of incremental progress as adrenaline to keep gathering evidence, and to use that evidence as our guide as we expand treatment options and promote best practices in administering them.
Setting Up Providers and Patients for Success
As Canada implements its recent change, the responsibility lies with clinicians and regulatory bodies to be very deliberate and safe in the way we use the SAP program. We must ensure that patient selection is based on science, and principles such as informed consent are followed.
I encourage doctors and patients considering these new treatment modalities to review the available research and have open, honest conversations with one another to determine if psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy is right for them. These are far from being first-line treatments and we must continue to turn to approved evidence-based treatments first.
Here’s the government’s process for requesting drugs through the SAP:
To administer psychedelic-assisted therapy under Health Canada’s SAP, healthcare professionals must fill out an application, which will be reviewed on a case-by-case basis.
The SAP considers a “healthcare professional” someone who:
is entitled, under the laws of a province or territory, to treat patients with an unapproved prescription drug
practices in that province or territory
has prescribing privileges in the respective province
Practitioners who receive approval can then request products from manufacturers that meet governmental requirements.
A few examples of questions asked in the application:
“What specifically about this drug makes it the best choice for your patient(s)?”
“Specify all treatments tried and/or failed…”
A request to provide references/evidence:
A question for a request for a repeat patient:
The final section:
How progressive or cautious will Health Canada be in reviewing and approving requests? That remains to be seen. But as a physician, my advice is clear: The practitioners who seek permission to use these medicines should ensure that they have the necessary training, competence, and confidence to provide these treatments safely and successfully.
The innovators in our field are scientists, doctors, and advisors offering extensive experience with psychedelic compounds, as well as mental health and addiction disorders. We must step up and support physicians who want to prescribe these treatments, but who might not have experience implementing psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy. We can provide evidence-based research, education on proper protocols, and access to experienced psychedelic integration specialists to answer questions every step of the way.
My message is simple: Let’s do this right. Let’s do this safely.
Did you know there’s another version of our classic Navigating Psychedelics course that’s all online and can be taken at your own pace? Check out the Independent Learner edition!
The End Goal: Regulatory Approval and Integration into Clinical Practice
The SAP should not be considered an alternative to integrating psychedelic-assisted therapy into existing medical practices. Rather, it provides help for those who qualify for use in exceptional circumstances under the SAP guidelines. It’s a step forward, but it’s not a solution.
Psilocybin and MDMA-based therapies are successful with specific indications and patient profiles. We need to continue gathering data to demonstrate safety and efficacy through clinical trials targeting specific indications. That’s the path to obtain regulatory approval of psychedelics with therapy protocols. Psychedelics must undergo the same rigor as any other medication vying for approval from regulatory bodies. We need to continue the work that will lead to an environment of safe, regulated access to psychedelic therapy in a medical setting. That takes patience, but will pay off in the long run.
Ultimately, the millions of patients afflicted with serious mental illness will benefit most when they have access to more advanced, more effective therapies than those on the market today. We truly see success when medical communities view psychedelic medicine as an accepted and adopted form of treatment within our existing healthcare infrastructure.
In last week’s blog, Ed Prideaux told us everything we know (and don’t) about Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder (HPPD), visual snow syndrome, and flashbacks. In part 2, he addresses ways to deal with the distress of having HPPD and ways to reduce the risk of developing it in the first place.
The real “problem” with HPPD is distress: anxiety, depression, isolation, panic, and the unhelpful coping mechanisms people can develop to overcome these (alcoholism and drug dependency are sadly common among HPPD patients). Remember, this distress is what technically defines HPPD.
Many people live with significant visual changes and do not find them distressing – rather, they may be sources of enjoyment, “free trips,” artistic inspiration, or purposefully leaned into as part of spiritual or occult practice. The world looking different doesn’t necessarily mean you have a problem.
If you’re currently experiencing HPPD, though, overcoming the distress should probably be your first priority. Speaking crudely, once the distress is overcome, the visuals can more or less “take care of themselves.” With less distress, there is less fixation. With less fixation, there is less noticing. With less noticing, the visuals are less noticeable. They may rapidly normalize, filter in the background, and can disappear unexpectedly with time.
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How Can We Address This Distress – and Bring the Visuals Down?
Medication and clinical help: Many in the HPPD community have found relief in the use (especially in the short-term) of medications including Lamotrigine and Klonopin. They can bring visuals and anxiety way down, though some report their symptoms getting worse. They can always bring side effects, too, so some caution is advised.
Healthy lifestyle changes: Many HPPD patients report the decline and resolution of their symptoms – or otherwise acceptance and returning to “normal” life after avoiding further drug-taking, exercising regularly, cutting out processed foods, or trying specific elimination diets.
NotingTriggers: Pay attention to your triggers and act accordingly. Visuals and other HPPD symptoms can surface in response to:
Fatigue
Stimulation, including caffeine
Anxietyand stress
The nature of the environment: visuals are more apparent in the dark, on blank surfaces, in enclosed rooms, and in environments where people had their original psychedelic experiences
Specific foods
Fixation and attention, including staring at blank surfaces and an anxious tendency to look out for visuals
Intoxication with other drugs, especially cannabis
You should also pay special attention to how your condition manifests beyond visuals, in particular, if you are experiencing Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder. More than visuals, it’s often the case that people’s distress comes from DP/DR, and a rich body of literature and therapeutic approaches have been explored for this condition.
Community: You can seek community from others, such as groups on Facebook, or the forums at HPPDOnline.com, r/HPPD, or r/visualsnow. However, tread cautiously around spending too much time on these forums. They can be extremely negative, and cause people to spiral and fixate on their perceptual changes.
Mindfulness meditation: The stress reduction and relaxation effects of meditation are well-established; many report breaking the cycle of visual fixation through learning to hone their attention.
Cognitive techniques: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) may be useful for accepting and reframing perceptual changes. Challenging the internal beliefs triggered by HPPD could reduce both distress and the visuals – in particular, the beliefs that patients are “brain damaged,” “weird,” “isolated,” or a “casualty.”
Psychedelic integration: Introspection, journaling, and (if you can find and afford it) specialist, psychedelic-informed counseling can be helpful. In particular, you may benefit from exploring the particular details and events of what may have caused HPPD to originally materialize.
Somatic approaches: Certain somatic/bodily therapies have proven helpful for people with Visual Snow Syndrome. This includes the use of acupuncture, muscle relaxation techniques, neck massage, and specific dietary interventions.
Reframing: It may be helpful to learn that many people are not troubled by their perceptual changes. Again, they can be just a “thing” – how one sees now – that’s different, and not necessarily bad. Other people actively enjoy their perceptual changes or view them in a spiritual way, such as glimpsing auras, having broadened the possibility of the mind, or in seeing the intrinsic shakiness of ordinary experience.
Without a deep, embodied grounding for your reframing, though, it can be hazardous. Make sure the frame is not just “in your head,” but truly held across your entire mind and body in a felt way. Don’t gaslight yourself into enjoying your perceptual changes if they are actually disturbing you.
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How Can One Reduce the Risk of Developing HPPD When Taking Psychedelics?
There is reason to suspect that the immediate period after a trip – say, one-to-five days – is important.This is because the brain is still neuroplastic and affected by psychedelics for up to a week (or longer) after the trip. And HPPD may be understood as a problem of “resetting” one’s brain back into its ordinary perceptual categories after the shock of a psychedelic experience.
If you want to avoid HPPD, what matters is ensuring that your perception re-transitions to its prior sober state safely. In this one-to-five day period, it may be advised, then, to:
Sleep well.
Avoid cannabisand further drug-taking. Some people report that their HPPD was “kicked in” by a subsequent drug experience.
Process the psychedelic experiencethrough dedicated integrationpractices, such as journaling, contemplation, meditation, and inquiry. Speaking very crudely – and because HPPD may well be a “network disorder” involving cross-connected mixtures of perception, emotion and cognition – it may be that failing to integrate the experience may cause the energy to remain and be reactivated, including in cognition and possibly in perception (especially if the right triggers are also hit).
Keep stress and anxiety to a minimum.
Re-embodiment, or reconnecting to body sensations. Practices may be recommended, including through mindfulness meditation. This may help to reduce the risk of dissociative disorders like Depersonalization/Derealization as well.
Reduce screen use. Focusing on screens may cause a disembodying effect, as well as holding back the psychological energies activated by the psychedelic experience.
Avoid triggering environments, such as places that are enclosed or rich in blank surfaces, and try not to self-induce visuals through staring and fixation. If someone wants to be extra careful, they may wish to avoid the place where they had their psychedelic experience. “Training” the brain in hallucinatory ways of seeing while it’s neuroplastic may cause lingering changes once neuroplasticity is reduced and stable categories are reaffirmed.
Important Questions to Ask Before Having an Experience
Have you optimized your set and setting? HPPD seems to be more likely after bad trips or challenging experiences – the likelihood of which strongly depends on how people organize their set and setting. In particular, stress and trauma going into a psychedelic experience may be a trigger for HPPD experiences, even at low dose (and microdose) levels.
Have you experienced some unusual visuals before? HPPD patients may have had a higher-than-normal experience of certainvisual oddities, which are rare parts of normal perception. In particular, phenomena like visual snow, halos, after-images, floaters, and colors in the dark may suggest an underlying tendency in perception that could be triggered by a psychedelic drug to be more intense.
Have you tested your drug? If so, what drug are you taking? HPPD may be more likely with Novel Psychoactive Substances (NPSs) and Research Chemicals (RCs) with more unpredictable, less-researched, and possibly neurotoxic effects. Adulterants in street drugs may also have neurotoxic and other risky properties.
It seems that long-acting psychedelics like LSDare more likely to cause HPPD. While LSD may have certain advantages over other psychedelics subjective to each user, someone very conscious of developing HPPD (at least compared to other risks) may wish to avoid LSD in favor of a shorter-acting psychedelic.
How often are you tripping? Taking lots of psychedelics frequentlyis likely to be correlated with a higher risk of developing HPPD. This can be explained in a number of ways:
A higher likelihood of having a bad trip
Activating a latent genetic susceptibility
More likely to over-excite relevant perceptual circuits
More “re-training” of perception in hallucinatory ways of seeing
Less time in which to integrate properly one’s experiences, and a possibility of a “cascade” of neuroplasticity from taking psychedelics while still in a neuroplastic state
Do you have experience of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), Complex PTSD, Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), or Attention Deficit (Hyperactivity) Disorder (ADD/ADHD)? While there has not been research on the relationship of HPPD to these conditions, reviews of online forums directly and indirectly suggest a relationship. People with Visual Snow Syndrome seem to experience these conditions more than average based on rough overviews, and people with these conditions may independently report certain visual changes similar to HPPD. Ifthere is a relationship between HPPD and these conditions, the connection may occur through tendencies towards disembodiment, hypersensitivity, overstimulation, and dissociation, all of which may have visual components – and may be amplified by psychedelic experience.
For more, this article’s tips, advice, analysis (and more) is also featured in a more in-depth HPPD Information Guide, which can be freely downloaded from the Perception Restoration Foundation’s website, where a more direct guide for those struggling with HPPD is also hosted. Owing to the tentative nature of our HPPD knowledge base, the PRF invites any and all comments and criticisms for the Guide at info@perception.foundation, and any worthwhile amendments will be quickly published.
Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder, or HPPD, is among the more mysterious, debilitating, and under-researched possibilities of psychedelic drug-taking. As enthusiasm around psychedelics and their possible benefits continues to grow, it’s imperative that researchers, user populations, and clinicians look closely at HPPD and other possible hazards.
HPPD is little-known among clinicians, and many reporting these experiences have trouble finding informed help. Treatments – pharmacological, psychotherapeutic, and somatic – are out there, and by reports, have proven useful for some, but no controlled trials have been performed to gauge their true effectiveness.
In this article – intended as an exercise in harm reduction, raising awareness, and ensuring true informed consent before people ingest psychedelics – we’ll outline the current knowledge base around HPPD, including indications of the gaps and where future research may prove useful. This article’s tips, advice, and analysis (and more) is also featured in an in-depth HPPD Information Guide, which can be freely downloaded from the Perception Restoration Foundation’s website, where a more direct guide for those struggling with HPPD is also hosted.
The HPPD Basics: What is it?
Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder is a DSM-5 listed condition in which people experience lasting, distressing changes to their perception after taking psychedelic drugs. There are two types: Type-1, in which people experience episodic (usually sudden) “flashbacks,” and Type-2 (the more commonly reported), in which people’s everyday perception is altered.
These perceptual changes may be married with shifts in cognition, mood, and somatic experience, and further research is required to understand how they relate. HPPD can last anywhere from weeks and months to several years – some people live with its perceptual changes for decades. In up to 50% of HPPD patients, the changes may spontaneously remit within five years.
The perceptual changes are wide-ranging, but most constellate around a stable set of experiences also reported in other conditions: Visual Snow Syndrome (VSS), migraine with aura, manic episodes, epilepsy, anxiety disorders, brain injuries, and also as experienceable features (under the right conditions) of normal, healthy perception.
This implies that HPPD likely sits on a continuum with other disorders and ordinary perception. Further research is required to understand HPPD’s role in this continuum, the possibly unique contribution of psychedelics in affecting symptoms, and the kinds of treatments people with HPPD would benefit from versus other disorders.
Visual snow: When the field of vision is coated with small, grainy dots like the static of a detuned TV
Haloes and starbusts: When objects have a bright “halo” or “aura” ring around them, or concentric colored rays around light sources
Trails: When an object moves, a trail of faint replicated images follows it
After-images: When the outline or silhouette of an object is seen on a surface after looking away
Enhanced hypnagogia, or the semi-visionary state experienced between waking and sleep
Intensified floaters: Most of us have seen “floaters,” which are the small squiggly lines and shapes that sometimes appear in our vision. With HPPD, these floaters can become more visible, disturbing, and irritating
Blue Field Entoptic Phenomenon: The appearance of tiny bright dots moving quickly along squiggly lines in the visual field, especially when looking into bright blue light such as the sky
Changes to size and depth perception: Things can seem smaller, at-a-distance, expanded, or possessing a two-dimensional quality
Assorted psychedelic-style effects: Fractal kaleidoscopic and geometric patterns, faces, “breathing” walls, moving, “wavy” or shaky text, flashing and strobing lights, closed-eye visuals, enhanced phosphenes
Complex pseudohallucinations
Other, non-perceptual symptoms are reported, too:
Physical effects, such as head pressure, acute neck pain, unequal pupil sizes, muscle twitches
Tinnitus and ringing of the ears
More intense dreams
Auditory changes
Confused and unclear thoughts, including brain fog, trouble processing information, memory loss, dyslexia, and the onset of stammering
Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder (DP/DR), in which people feel detached from their bodies and the world stops feeling real
Psychosis
Anxiety, depression and panic
Note, to be diagnosed with HPPD, these changes must prompt distress – which they do, in many cases. They can disrupt people’s everyday function – relationships, work, operating heavy equipment, driving, navigating the day-to-day, and beyond – and cause anxiety, panic attacks, depression, and suicidal thoughts in high numbers of clinical patients. Many report a strong degree of isolation and loneliness, and the disorder is also strongly-correlated with dissociative experiences like Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder (DP/DR).
How Common is HPPD?
We don’t know. It seems that developing perceptual changes after taking psychedelics is not necessarily that uncommon; the distressing, intrusive kind that manifests in HPPD is likely a real but minority experience.
A 2011 survey of 2,455 users of psychedelics (via Erowid) found that up to three-fifths of psychedelic users reported lingering changes, 25% in ways that were seemingly permanent, and 4.2% in ways so distressing that they could prompt seeking clinical help. The latter is suggestive of diagnostic HPPD.
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What Kinds of Psychedelics Are Implicated?
Practically every psychedelic, but some more than others: LSD, psilocybin, ayahuasca, 2-CB, ibogaine, etc., but also related (but not classically psychedelic) drugs like MDMA, cannabis, dextromethorphan (DXM), datura, ketamine, salvia, and diphenhydramine (DPH) have been implicated.
In anecdotal reports and the existing literature, it seems that LSD is the leading cause of perceptual changes compared to other kinds of drugs. Whether this is because LSD has been historically the most commonly-used psychedelic or there is something special to the LSD experience or its effect on neurophysiology is unclear. Short-acting psychedelics like DMT seem to be less implicated.
Some report that, after heavy use of classic psychedelics, their HPPD developed suddenly after the use of research chemicals like 25-i-nBOME, which is often mis-sold as LSD; HPPD is also reported in particular among users of synthetic cannabinoids. Cutting agents in street MDMA, including synthetic cathinones (“bath salts”), may make HPPD more likely.
Can Non-Psychedelic Drugs Create These Perceptual Changes?
At the same time, compared to other drug classes, it seems that psychedelics (in particular, LSD) provide a higher risk factor for developing these perceptual changes. It may also be that HPPD patients report different kinds of visuals (perhaps more psychedelic ones), or more cognitive and emotional changes (as with psychedelics’ powerful psychoactive effects), compared to non-psychedelic groups.
Is HPPD the Same Thing as Flashbacks? Aren’t Flashbacks a Myth?
It’s complicated. The “flashback” describes a particular kind of experience in which people feel they truly re-live a prior psychedelic state: something that is real and can happen, and is what people may experience in Type-1 HPPD. Most cases of Type-2 HPPD, though, will likely not be true examples of flashbacks in this way.
To give a brief overview, the idea that psychedelic drugs could cause lasting changes in perception was noted from as early as 1954 – 15 years before the notion of the “flashback” was ever coined. A number of authors in the first wave of psychedelic research from the 1950s to the early 1960s reported patients experiencing a wide range of complications after their drug experiences – including what sounds like standard HPPD – but also states that blur more into psychosis and the experience of complex pseudohallucinations. They noted that some patients were acutely re-living their trips.
The “flashback” label was coined by author Mardi J. Horowitz in 1969, and used for many years afterwards, including by Dr. Henry Abraham, who first developed the psychiatric diagnosis of HPPD. Perhaps contrary to what we’d expect, authors in the “flashback” literature were at pains to emphasize the complexity, variation, and need for further research in explaining the phenomenon, as well as noting that many (some surveys suggested the majority) did not find their experiences distressing.
The Flashback Problem
Unfortunately, the idea of the flashback was later sensationalized by journalists and prohibition activists, who tied the idea to certain marked untruths: that the drug can be “stored” in the spine or fat cells, make people legally insane, or otherwise cause major brain damage.
The flashback idea also had some conceptual problems, which is perhaps to be expected from the first attempts at describing a new phenomenon. With some critical exceptions, authors were bound by a consensus that post-psychedelic visuals and flashbacks were re-experiences of the visuals glimpsed in the psychedelic state – as if the drug had not properly worn off, perhaps as a matter of lasting changes to neurological function. The notion that HPPD is a “re-experiencing” has also become one of the core criteria of the current DSM-5 diagnosis.
As noted earlier, though, identical perceptual phenomena can be experienced both through non-psychedelic drug classes, and as part of experiences in which drugs played no necessary role: other kinds of neuropsychological conditions, or otherwise as a feature of normal perception.
In contemporary literature, some authors have noted that many patients experience visual effects that never manifested in their trips – though this isn’t the case for everyone. Those who are “reliving” their trips may be described plausibly as experiencing flashbacks.
The idea of the flashback is also not unique to psychedelics – in particular, it’s used as a descriptor for experiences of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), in which people can feel “flung back” to the original trauma in quasi-visionary states. This implies that the psychedelic “flashback” may not be a distinct phenomenon for some (or most) cases: rather, that it’s an example of a psychedelic drug-induced traumatic flashback, where the real issue is trauma (not drugs per se).
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How Do We Explain What’s Going On?
Since authors first noticed that psychedelics can cause lingering changes in perception, a variety of different hypotheses have been pursued to explain what’s going on. The HPPD experience will likely involve a complex, multi-factor origin that varies from patient to patient.
Could psychedelic experiences alter neurophysiological function?
HPPD’s leading neurophysiological hypothesis, introduced by Dr. Henry Abraham, relates the condition to a “disinhibition” of the visual cortex. Drugs like LSD decrease, or “disinhibit” the filters of the brain’s visual cortex, so visual noise that would otherwise be filtered out may remain in the field of vision. HPPD occurs when these filters do not return to their pre-drug state. This may make HPPD akin to a form of “visual tinnitus” (and tinnitus is also experienced as a symptom).
This disinhibition is linked to reductions in alpha waves in the brain. A neuroimaging study by Abraham (2001) suggested that alpha wave frequency increases with HPPD patients versus controls. The role of an objectivealteration to visual perception was lent support by 1982 and 1988 studies executed by Abraham, in which he found both non-HPPD LSD users and HPPD patients had decreased ability to discriminate color differences and light sensitivity during dark adaptation, with HPPD patients reporting further decreased ability.
There could be a role for neuroplasticity, or neurons’ ability to change and reform in response to experience. This may be explained in the context of a “Bayesian Brain” model, similar to the REBUS and entropic brain hypotheses introduced by UCSF’s Robin Carhart-Harris: by shaking the “snowglobe” of our nervous system’s categories of perception through a psychedelic experience (or psychoactive changes altogether), it could be that those categories donot settle as before. A neuroplasticity model may explain why, in some cases,further psychedelic experimentation can reduceor eliminate HPPD presentation. It may underlie also why teenagersare especially vulnerable, as they have more plastic, developing brains.
LSD’s long durationmay explain why the drug is so associated with HPPD – that is, with more hours of seeing abnormal visual changes, the brain is more likely to reprogram itself than with shorter-acting drugs. Smokeable DMT, for instance, isn’t particularly-associated with perceptual changes, while longer-acting ayahuascais.
Synaptogenesismay also be involved. As described by Samuel Štancl, “Psychedelics induce strong synaptogenesis, or the creation of new synapses, resulting in high synaptic density. EEG scans show less inhibitory activity in the visual cortex both in people on psychedelics and in people with HPPD.” This means that electrical currents are being enhanced in the visual cortex by increased synaptic connection. This also underwrites why pruning excessive synapses through pharmacological treatments like lithium – or even exercise – may be useful.
What about psychological factors?
A 2018 paper by Halpern and Passie suggested that challenging drug experiences, including intense reactions of panic, dysphoria, anxiety and trauma, may be associated with a higher likelihood of developing HPPD. This is more likely for psychedelic use in uncontrolled settings.
Recall, HPPD often co-arises with Depersonalization/Derealization, a dissociative reaction in which people feel disconnected from their bodies and immediate environments. This is suggestive of anxiety and trauma. Drug-free anxiety and depersonalization are independently-associated with similar, if not identical, perceptual changes. Somatic cognitive changes, including head pressure and brain fog, are also associated with anxiety. Challenging and traumatic drug experiences may therefore induce elevations of anxiety, which has its own uncharted pathway towards many changes, including perception.
In the historical flashback literature, there was tentative evidence that visual phenomena could be experienced as matters of attention, hypnotization, and placebo suggestion. The role of trait absorption – or a person’s tendency to become occupied by mental imagery and internal experience, including daydreaming, fantasy and hypnagogia – has also been discussed by authors as a possible personality determinant of HPPD likelihood.
What’s more, there are case reports of people altogether resolving their distress and visuals through targeted psychotherapies without pharmaceuticals: in particular, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) to target the destructive internal beliefs people formed around their condition (“I am brain damaged,” “I’m a weirdo,” “I’m a freak,” etc.), including in combination with relaxation techniques. The sense of isolationmay also be addressed through the therapist leaning into their owncapacity for abnormal visual phenomena, and experiencing them with the patient – something that resolved one person’s HPPD.
Psychedelic researcher Stanislav Grofexplained and resolved his patients’ cases of HPPD through psychodynamic therapies. He interpreted HPPD as a problem of the psychedelic surfacing unconscious material that needed to be re-integrated through additional encounter experiences, including with psychedelics and breathwork.
Could HPPD patients simply be noticing more stuff that previously filtered into the background?
Yes, at least for some patients. Phenomena like visual snow, after-images, tinnitus, and floaters arenot necessarily uncommon, even among “normal” people. As a possibly overlapping mechanism with anxiety and fixation, it may be that somepeople with HPPD are noticing perceptual features that had previously been filtered into the ignorable background of their experience.Halpern and Passie found that HPPD patients were possibly more likely to have experienced visual oddities before they took drugs.
This led Krebs and Johansen to recommend re-attributing some HPPD experiences to Somatic Symptom Disorder, whereby people fixate and ruminate on normal somatic experiences and perceptions.
This is unlikely to be exhaustive, because many HPPD patients report florid and extreme visual changes that plausibly could not have been ignored before; it will also have limited applicability to those whose visuals are distinctly psychedelic and are experiencing Type-1 HPPD. It’s possible, too, that histories of such visual experiences implyavulnerabilitythat has been activated or catalyzed by drug experiences.
Part 2 of this article, focusing on harm reduction, will be posted shortly!
This article’s tips, advice, analysis (and more) is also featured in a more in-depth HPPD Information Guide, which can be freely downloaded from the Perception Restoration Foundation’s website, where a more direct guide for those struggling with HPPD is also hosted. Owing to the tentative nature of our HPPD knowledge base, the PRF invites any and all comments and criticisms for the Guide at info@perception.foundation, and any worthwhile amendments will be quickly published.
With the emergence of more and more psychedelic religions, many people are finding themselves in a situation where proving that their religion is sincere is the difference between being able to practice their religion legally or not. Could an International Psychedelic Religious Survey be the answer?
My lord, I suspect an incredible secret has been kept on this planet: that the Fremen exist in vast numbers – vast. And it is they who control Arrakis.
-Duncan Idaho, David Lynch’s “Dune” (1984)
To expand and clarify religious freedom and liberty in the United States and abroad, it is sometimes necessary to seek court rulings. One of the missing pieces of evidence that would prove helpful in most psychedelic religion cases is a reliable data set evidencing the demographics and statistics behind the world’s psychedelic religions. How many religious groups exist? How many members are there? What type of sacraments do they use? How to quantify communities that may not have stable membership? And more? I have gone looking for a reliable resource but have not found one yet. Indeed, I have spoken with some of the lead legal practitioners in this area, and they also lament the absence of this data. And the concern is not limited to lawyers. My friend, Brad Stoddard, Ph.D., a professor of religious studies, points out additional challenges in defining and applying metrics, including:
Some people will identify as spiritual but not religious.
Some people are likely to identify as neither religious nor spiritual but will still engage in practices many would consider religious or spiritual (the so-called “nones”).
Many Native Americans reject the category of religion as something that misrepresents their traditions. They also reject the categories of entheogens and psychedelics as they relate to sacraments like peyote and San Pedro. The politics of labeling these groups “religious” is tricky.
Beyond the U.S., even today, wide groups of people don’t have a category in their native language that corresponds to Western definitions of religion or spirituality, so assessing psychedelic religion in, say, rural India, would be almost impossible without extensive ethnographic surveys.
So, this gave me an idea. I would like to propose that some ambitious Ph.D.-types consider undertaking (as a Ph.D. thesis?) an international survey. For purposes of this article, I call it the International Psychedelic Religious Survey, but it could have a variety of different names. What is important is that the survey be conducted under scientific principles that could withstand court scrutiny, and that the data it procures answers the right sorts of questions.
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Why are Psychedelic Religions Secret?
Psychedelic religions are not mainstream, and they are dogged by the omnipresent threat of allegation of criminality. It is therefore natural that psychedelic religious groups and their adherents stay mostly out of public scrutiny. There is justifiable fear of social stigma and risks to liberty, amongst myriad downstream repercussions. But these same forces that keep the psychedelically-inclined underground also serve as a shackle for things to remain so. The existence, nature, and populations participating in the world’s psychedelic religions is not well-documented. Some are out in the open, but most are not.
Why a Survey?
The importance of having numbers and an understanding of the types and varieties of psychedelic religions is helpful in court cases. This sort of data could be especially important in aiding the defense of persons criminally charged for their participation in psychedelic religious practice. Such data could also inform legislatures and other policy makers, increasing their awareness of (and possibly, sensitivity to) psychedelic religions. Indeed, the information could be useful to the United Nations, and could help the UN Office on Drugs and Crime with policy reform.
Similar to how a census counts a population and derives statistics, psychedelic religions might benefit from being counted. My suspicion is that revelation of the true demographics of psychedelic religions is apt to be a lot like Frank Herbert’s Dune – like the Fremen, the numbers of people who participate in psychedelic religions is secret and vast. When it comes to psychedelic religion, there persists popular ignorance and misunderstanding that have dampening effects on how these minority psychedelic religions are treated. Having data, even if it be anonymous, reflecting that these minority religions are not nearly as small as they appear helps to give these religions presence. From presence can flow understanding.
Consider that most psychedelic religions do not behave like more broadly accepted mainstream religious organizations. Out of fear, most psychedelic religions do not have billboards, do not evangelize, do not have television or radio ads, do not seek public donations, etc., and for similar reason, most do not fight court fights. Litigation is often prohibitively expensive, and minority religious groups trying to fly under the radar tend not to have financial means. A survey could provide synergy by which these minority religious groups could gain collective leverage. A survey could change the conversation about psychedelic religions with backed statistics and data. A survey might even move public policy focus away from chemical structures (the metric law enforcement uses) toward purpose and effect (the metric psychedelic religions use). Courts are not presently accustomed to the argument of “it is not how you get there that matters, it is that you get there,” but a reliable data set could further the point.
The Importance of Court Admissibility
If you are sitting in a criminal defense chair, charged for psychedelics but claiming religious exemption, the burden is on you to educate the judge and jury on the nature, basis, and supposed validity of your defense. The probability that the judge and jury are going to be well-educated about psychedelic religion is low. Your burden to come forward with credible, persuasive, court-admissible evidence supporting your psychedelic religion defense is made that much more difficult and necessary.
The key is court admissibility. To have a jury or a judge consider data, it needs to be admissible. It also needs to be relevant and authenticated. The most compelling and relevant evidence is meaningless if a court will not admit it. Hence, the need for a scientifically-run survey that considers all the details: who will gather the data, how that data will be gathered, what form of survey will be used, what questions would be posed in the survey, the types of answers permitted, etc. The survey will also need to be verifiable and be able to demonstrate things like chain of custody, all encapsulated in a report that can be admitted within a hearsay exception or over a hearsay objection.
Why International?
Religion is not national. Indeed, the First Amendment to the United States Constitution would find the notion of national religion abhorrent, and no court in the United States could rule a religion “un-American.” Rather, at most, a court could rule an organization altogether not a religion, or a person’s observation thereof insincere, but a court could not weigh the merits or values of a religious group. Rather, under Constitutional principles, court inquiry is limited to examination for the trappings of things commonly associated with religion – concepts like contemplation of the imponderables of existence itself, contemplation of the source of all things, the nature of spirit, etc. Neither nationality nor nation of origin are relevant points of inquiry.
Pragmatically, it is a lot harder to claim religious exemption when the court knows nothing about, has had no life experience with, and is questioning the validity of your religion or the sincerity of your practice. The benefit of having a court-admissible survey demonstrating that you are far from alone, but are acting in conformity with possibly millions just like you, is manifest. Likewise, one of the greatest challenges that many of us entheogen lawyers are hoping to crack is the multi-sacramental conundrum, or the wholesale legal transcendence of relevance of sacrament. Along with the many holes in appellate precedent, there is no high-level appellate decision that has affirmed multiple psychedelic sacraments as acceptable religious practice. But that case can be made, and it can be made better with better evidence.
Although the United States Constitution contemplates a variety of religious expression, it would still be dangerous in court to ignore that Abrahamic lineage dominates in the United States. Statistically, it is more probable that the judge and jury in any psychedelic religion case will be most familiar with concepts of a revelatory religion that is manifested in scriptural texts, and whose members meet in some form of congregation and group worship, employing scripted prayers and relying upon faith. Many psychedelic religions look like this. Many do not. And getting that point across in a meaningful fashion to a court can make the difference between winning or losing a psychedelic religion case. An International Psychedelic Religious Survey can help demonstrate that minority adherents in one country may not be as minority as they seem, when taken in a global context, and could likewise reveal trends in the spread of psychedelic religions around the world.
Content and Manner of the Survey
The precise execution of the survey is admittedly at the edges of most lawyer’s skill sets. I imagine this project calls for a Ph.D. or aspiring Ph.D. theology student, or a professor excited to take on one of the most significant projects of their career (not to mention perhaps a couple qualified statisticians). I also offer that while we won’t do the survey ourselves (again, not our skill set), I and fellow entheogen attorneys, Greg Lake, Ian Benouis, and Dan Peterson are happy to contribute, particularly regarding framing survey questions that would be helpful for court admissibility. Brad Stoddard, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Religious Studies at McDaniel College, is also available to assist and welcomes contact. Anyone interested in picking up the mantle and running with it is invited to reach out to any of us. My friends and I hope this article inspires one or more of you to take on this very important task.
Prolonged negative body image will often lead to depression and anxiety, and unfortunately for many people, can lead to body dysmorphia or an eating disorder. Could psychedelics help reframe one’s relationship with their body?
These conditions primarily impact women, and now more of them are coming forward to share how psychedelics are helping them leave a constant cycle of dissatisfaction, body dysmorphia, and the accompanying anxiety, depression, and stress. They explain how the use of psychedelics helped them develop a new relationship with their eating disorders and improve their self-image.
While large-scale studies are (currently) scarce, the anecdotal evidence of these shifts is powerful.
“The first time I sat with a hero’s dose of magic mushrooms, I realized I could put my eating disorder down and never carry it again,” shares Francesca Rose, who is now an eating disorder recovery advocate. “It finally clicked: my eating disorder was not part of me. It wasn’t even mine. It all made sense. I was free from my eating disorder. I no longer needed to control food or my body to feel safe or worthy.” Having her life changed through the use of psychedelics and being on the recovery path for 13 years, this psychedelic-assisted shift is part of what led her to add her current work; supporting other women with eating disorders along their healing journeys.
For many women, talking about their insecurities is still seen as a taboo, weakness, or shameful. Yet finding a supportive space to speak of one’s challenges, plus engaging in embodied experiences – including psychedelic sessions – can offer a gateway to healing. Rose’s work also includes leading embodiment practices via yoga and conscious dance. By helping women speak of their struggles and reconnect to their bodies, she aims to break these stigmas.
Adding in the intentional and safe use of psychedelics can allow women to reconnect with their bodies and cultivate a gentler relationship with themselves. Rose says, “An eating disorder is unconsciously employed as an attempt to feel protected in the world and to even give a sense of meaning and identity. The internal world is fractured and the eating disorder is a way to try to stitch things together, even if it’s an unsustainable method. When we are journeying with psychedelics and engaging in post-journey integration, people can find they rely less on the eating disorder because there is a general sense of ease in the world and more internal wholeness. We can get in touch with our essence, and connect with our inherent worth, belonging, dignity and divinity. Psychedelics can help us embody pride and self-acceptance. We can connect to love, and feel our capacity to give and receive love.”
To have a better understanding of these conditions, we need to first comprehend body image. For most women, it’s not as simple as liking or disliking their own bodies. Body image is complex, and can include a combination of our feelings, beliefs, and perceptions of how our body looks to us and others, the understanding of what it can do, and its estimated size.
Body image issues can start as early as 5 years old. Changes to our physiques kicked off by puberty can deepen our dissatisfaction. Culture also exerts a huge influence on the way we view ourselves. The way society sees gender, the color of skin and hair, and countless other things can also impact the way a person thinks and feels about their physical appearance.
Body dysmorphia is a psychological disorder characterized by an excessive concern for the body, causing the person to overvalue small imperfections or even imagine imperfections. This creates a negative body image and lowers self-esteem. It can drive possible eating disorders and problems in social, professional, and personal lives. Both men and women may experience body dysmorphia and eating disorders, though women are three times more likely to have their lives affected by it.
In the United States, approximately 30 million people suffer from some type of eating disorder. Of these 30 million, 70% do not have the assistance of a specialized professional. As a consequence, anorexia nervosa, one of the most common eating disorders, has a 5.9% mortality rate – one of the highest rates within mental health conditions.
The Potential of Psychedelics in Building a Positive Body Image
Eating disorders are notoriously challenging to treat relative to other mental health disorders. Traditional treatments, such as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), have a remission rate of about 45%, a relapse rate of about 30% within one year, and can be hard to follow. Now, some experts and researchers are considering psychedelic therapy as an alternative, and are analyzing the potential benefits of this treatment.
“Eating disorders typically develop as maladaptive coping mechanisms when internal resourcing is overwhelmed by what’s happening in a person’s life,” says Lauren Taus, a California-based therapist who offers ketamine-assisted sessions. Taus and other therapists who contributed their perspectives for this piece say that psychedelic therapy can alleviate the symptoms that are normally associated with these conditions, such as depression and anxiety, in ways that traditional therapy fails to achieve. As Dr. Adele Lafrance points out in this article for EdCatalogue, psychedelic therapy has “the potential to alleviate symptoms that relate to serotonergic signaling and cognitive inflexibility, and the induction of desirable brain states that might accelerate therapeutic processes.”
Taus shared an example of her own work with psychedelics as an alternative treatment that helped her with many of her challenges, including her eating disorder: “My experience with empathogens has invited me to see how much conflict was warring inside of me. I saw all the pain of my personal history, and all that was beyond my control in my family system. Fundamentally, these psychedelics invited me to directly process what was beneath the surface. I accessed great grief, rage, and fear while opening to deep levels of love and compassion for myself and everyone else. I understood my parents and the choices they made, so I could forgive them. I also sourced the willingness, desire, and strength to fight for myself – and my life.”
Listen to Lauren Taus in her episode, “Wellness Through Yoga, Meditation, and Psychotherapy here.
So what is it about psychedelics specifically that can facilitate profound breakthroughs like Taus’? For starters, they can positively impact the Default Mode Network (DMN), which handles communication between brain regions. This region appears to be hyperactive in some mental health conditions, including depression, anxiety, and OCD. And certain hallmarks of eating disorders, such as the poor cognitive flexibility seen in many anorexia nervosa patients, may also be related to an overactive DMN. Studies such as “Rethinking Therapeutic Strategies for Anorexia Nervosa: Insights From Psychedelic Medicine and Animal Models” indicate that psychedelics lower the activity in this area, and, by doing so, allow us to create new thought patterns, giving us a fresh perspective on life, the world, and ourselves.
Another way that psychedelic psychotherapy can be effective is by helping a person understand the true source of their feelings of dissatisfaction. A 2013 analysis of why eating disorder therapy fails reveals that a patient’s resistance stems from the disorder’s “ego-syntonic” nature. Ego-syntonic means that the ego’s demands and aspirations drive many of the disorder’s behaviors, feelings, and values. Psychedelic substances can offer a temporary dissolution of the ego, allowing the possibility of transformation, healing, and change of certain behaviors, thought patterns, or addictions.
Taus explains that “Psychedelic assisted psychotherapy supports embodied change where traditional psychotherapy often stays in the realm of cognition and intellect. A person, for example, may come to understand with depth and clarity their patterns in therapy, but still struggle to shift them.” For example, a woman might know that purging is a harmful behavior that leads to feelings of shame. “She may even know exactly why and when it all started, but still she may not be able to stop. Psychoactive substances can create experiential shifts that more efficiently translate into internally-led and sustained behavioral change. The job of the therapist is to provide a safe container for the exploration and a good relational context for a person to make sense of the experience and to anchor in the good that comes from it.”
It’s important to highlight that the use of psychedelic substances on their own does not work as a magic bullet and treatments must be done alongside psychotherapy and/or other healing modalities such as journaling and yoga. A holistic approach seems to be the most effective path to long-term healing for women with eating disorders and body dysmorphia.
Ketamine, ayahuasca, MDMA, and psilocybin are the four psychedelics that have been the focus of the majority of the latest research for the potential treatment of eating disorders. Let’s take a look at how each one could help with eating disorders:
Ketamine:
Ketamine is a non-classical psychedelic that can alter consciousness for a short period of time. This synthetic compound’s antidepressant qualities have been researched for treating severe depression, PTSD, and OCD.
Ketamine can be administered through IV, injected, taken orally, or it can be insufflated (blown into a body cavity, such as the nasal passages). The dose is titrated according to weight, with the understanding that everyone metabolizes the medicine differently. Ketamine is known for its dissociative effects, such as feeling like things are moving in slow motion or that you are separated from reality, with objects looking different and other characteristics that can be seen in this study.
“With regards to ketamine, the dissociative experience can translate into more joy in embodied experience. Ketamine-Assisted Psychotherapy (KAP) creates a break from the ordinary mind and a loosening of the belief systems that eating disorders are so rigidly held by. From a scientific perspective, psychedelics interrupt the default mode network, which governs self-image, memories, beliefs, and patterns.” says Taus. “The drug essentially creates an opportunity to reorganize the brain into a system that is more supportive for good living. Ketamine also results in increased neuroplasticity, which creates a golden hour opportunity for potent therapy work with a client 24-48 hours after a KAP experience.”
Ayahuasca is a fermented herbal drink that contains dimethyltryptamine (DMT), one of the most potent psychedelic drugs known for its role in shamanic or religious ceremonies. The brew has been utilized as a sacred ritual by various South American Indigenous tribes for at least 1000 years. Journeyers frequently claim mystical and transcendent visions that lead to self-discovery.
The ayahuasca experience has the ability to favorably affect behavior, stimulating self-reflection and increased awareness. Studies suggest that drinking it can aid in the treatment of anxiety, addictions, and depression, as well as eating disorders by also shifting body perceptions.
MDMA, another laboratory-created compound, has a physiological effect that alters people’s behavior such as openness. MDMA boosts serotonin levels while also upping oxytocin, dopamine, and other chemical mediators, resulting in feelings of empathy, trust, and compassion. The substance also has an effect on the way people process trauma and emotions for a period of several hours.
In clinical settings, MDMA is taken orally in capsules. The patient first takes a full dose (75-125 mg) and has the option to add a second dose about 2 hours into the session. An MDMA session will typically last between 6 to 8 hours.
MDMA causes an increase in prefrontal cortex activity, which is important for information processing, and a slowing in the amygdala, the part of the brain that is key in processing memories and emotions associated with fear. The key therapeutic benefit of MDMA is its capacity to excite the brain, allowing it to create and store new memories. Patients become more emotionally flexible and capable of exploring challenging memories during psychotherapy sessions, which often leads to long-term changes in how they react to emotional changes.
Psilocybin is a substance generated by more than 100 different mushroom species around the world. Psilocybin is said to have the best safety profile of all psychedelic substances. The fungi could be useful in the treatment of eating disorders by targeting the brain’s serotonin imbalance and therapeutically shifting the person away from symptom-focused treatment. This could establish changes in self-worth and self-compassion.
Aside from that, the efficacy of psilocybin therapy in the treatment of OCD shows how it could be useful in the treatment of eating disorders, as obsessive thoughts and compulsive and obsessive actions are also common hallmarks of eating disorders.
Reclaiming Ownership of Your Body with Psychedelics
Psychedelics can help women see their eating disorder as a coping mechanism and not as part of their identity. Once they embody this insight, they can also slowly start to replace bad habits with healthier and kinder new habits. They can rewrite the inner narrative of lies and self-limiting beliefs about their bodies.
Once more, there is a need to emphasize the importance of integration, relationships, and a holistic approach alongside other therapeutic methods and modalities. Change comes with time, effort, and consistency, especially when deconditioning behaviors that have been a big part of our lives for many years.
When asked about how long it takes for those changes to fully take place, Rose points out that “Eating disorders and addiction are transformational experiences that hold enriching value. Indeed, the word, ‘transformation’ means change or conversion. When thinking about recovery, it is not about stopping or restricting a behavior but rather allowing it to change and transform, taking us along for the ride so that our beliefs, feelings, thoughts, behavior, and action take a new form. Grounded, sustainable change does not happen overnight.”
“For me, recovery is about inner personal and spiritual growth, and incremental daily, positive changes. My experience with eating disorders and addiction has led me to believe that they offer lessons and advantages, transforming me into more of who I truly am: alive, free, appreciative, and connected.”
Although more research is still needed to better understand the safety and efficacy of psychedelic medicines and therapy in the treatment of eating disorders, the promising results we’re seeing show that this is a worthy goal to pursue. Stories such as Rose’s and Taus’ are just two among many other women who have experienced transformational change thanks to these compounds.
“With the support of therapy, community, spirituality, and relationships, I no longer judge my body, or effort to dominate her,” says Taus. “My experiences with plant medicines have supported me in understanding my body as a perfect part of nature, and in much the same way that I don’t complain about the shape of a leaf or a wave, I accept – even appreciate – the parts of me I’ve historically struggled with.”
“The power of psychedelic-assisted therapy is in its experiential quality,” she says. “When knowing meets feeling and understanding, we can galvanize the courage and strength needed to shapeshift our lives and reconstruct ourselves.”
With the power dynamics inevitably involved in psychedelic therapies and underground facilitation, can consent truly be established? And what can we learn from past abuse?
On behalf of all the survivors of psychedelic guide abuse, or abuse under any other non-ordinary states of consciousness such as hypnosis, meditative states, or other forms of induced or spontaneous trance and non-consensual shaktipat, I write this piece to elucidate how consent is not as simple as asking beforehand in a preparation session, or reiterating before the client “goes under/in.”
We need to begin by defining our terms, and understanding what we mean by consent is the first step in unpacking this issue.
Consent: permission, choice freely given with full acknowledgement of context, circumstances, possible consequences, and with full agency.
Consent is not only about the event/action/behavior itself in the moment, but the consequences of it, and the context within which those consequences unfold. For example, if a person is abused, psychologically tortured in a session, or touched in a way that triggers past trauma, then the fallout of that – as well as what resources and needs arise in the recovery process – have to be taken into consideration as well.
If the guides/facilitators, therapists, and other space-holders do not know about spiritual emergence/y as the deepest traumas come to the surface, then they will potentially hospitalize folks, call them crazy, and then de-validate any of the grievances they may bring up about the guide abuse – when in fact, it was them that induced the state of emergency in the first place, and therefore it is their responsibility to have proper resources and support in place for these inevitable openings.
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These questions need to be asked to assess the power dynamics and ability or inability to give consent under certain conditions:
Is it truly possible to give consent if:
We are in trauma states (The 4 Fs: Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fawn)?
We are under the influence of entheogens or in other non-ordinary states of consciousness?
We have a history of violation of consent (rape, assault, abuse)?
The guide/facilitator is in an authority position?
We are less privileged due to race, gender, socioeconomic status, etc. (power dynamics)
Is consent truly consent if the aforementioned conditions are present?
Methods of Manipulation and Control
Another way to begin to protect ourselves and others from abuse within these vulnerable spaces is to understand more deeply some of the methods of manipulation and control that abusers use to coerce their victims.
These are the tactics that abusers use to prey upon the vulnerability from our trauma – AKA overriding consent.
Playing the victim themselves, to elicit the Fawn Response: By saying that they are the ones in need or the vulnerable one, they elicit caring and compassion from their victims, thus creating a false sense of security and intimacy, as well as being seen as innocent.
Pointing the finger at the other, saying they are the crazy one; gaslighting: They say that someone else is the crazy one to de-validate any grievances or anything that might be heard about them or their work from former clients who were harmed.
Repetition of narratives, AKA brainwashing: This is an actual technique used by lineages of guides and torturers to break down and break open peoples’ psyches so that they will be receptive to whatever narratives they want to implant.
Cues/post-hypnotic suggestions to activate certain feelings, thoughts, and behaviors: Similar to brainwashing, some abusers use cues to manipulate the victim’s actions.
Claiming that you are not trying or working hard enough: This is the victim-blaming portion of the protocol, where the abuser says if you just let go more, take more, break down your resistance/ego more, then you will be able to heal, creating a gatekeeper effect.
Romanticizing the pain and suffering they cause as for for our benefit: They will say things like, “This is for your healing” or “This is your warrior training” or “The universe/ancestors want you to do this.”
It’s like the opposite of false memory implantation – using actual memories and vulnerabilities against their victims to take control and exert power over them. They know where it hurts and how to take advantage of those wounds for their own benefit. And how do they know the vulnerabilities? Because they are your therapists too! They know all of your wounds, trauma, and history because you have come in good faith to them for healing, and instead, these vulnerabilities are used against you.
This perspective – the veil lifting and seeing things as they are, Shadow and all – may seem bleak or hopeless, but in fact, it is the opposite. It is the opportunity to create safer, more effective psychedelic therapies, facilitators, and guides, which can allow us all to feel like this renaissance is truly an evolution of consciousness, and not the Wild West; its reckless charlatans and gurus leaving wreckage in their wake as they burn though the souls of their victims.
How Do We Persevere?
So what are the implications here? How do we vet and refine our discernment to weed out the psychopathic and sadistic? Is it even possible to ask for consent or to properly give it under these circumstances? Is that the end of the story? So consent isn’t truly possible in these cases?
Of course not, no. What this means is that we need trauma-informed guides, facilitators, and space-holders, who are well-versed in spiritual emergence/y, and who are as close as possible to the same level of privilege as their clients; which means we need more guides of color, more access to training, more BIPOC representation in the media and at conferences, and more financially-accessible and ethically-held medicine spaces.
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And we need to check power and privilege, and understand trauma history and how to work ethically with trauma survivors. We need to implement peer-support in medicine guiding/facilitation and not hierarchy systems, which lends itself to overt or covert power-dynamics and the abuses that manifest from that. Also, we need to create accountability structures though independent bodies that are not beholden to economic, legal, or political pressures, which can protect the survivors from incriminating themselves when reporting abuse. There are many organizations that are often driven by agendas for funding and research, and have silenced concerns for decades. Survivors are through being silenced, and are now part of the solution for creating safer, more effective protocols and standards. Let their voices be heard, and help to create a safer, more ethical psychedelic movement.
Jon Dennis, Esq. looks closely at what Oregon’s Measure 109 really says, and provides a possible framework for the fair treatment of religious-use sacrament.
Oregon’s Psilocybin Services Act, aka Measure 109, is currently undergoing a reputational makeover. Although primarily advertised to voters as “psilocybin therapy,” clinical use of psilocybin is only one of the many modalities of psilocybin services that may soon be permitted in Oregon. Nearly all of the media reporting on M109 have echoed the messaging of the M109 electoral campaign, creating a narrative that Oregon voted to legalize “psilocybin therapy.” But now that people are beginning to write and speak about M109 in a more careful and nuanced way, many are surprised to find out that the psilocybin law passed in Oregon allows people to take psilocybin for virtually any reason. If there is still any doubt about whether M109 is a “therapy” program, Tom Eckert, one of the chief co-petitioners of Measure 109 and now the chair of the Oregon Psilocybin Advisory Board (“OPAB”) (as well as a practicing therapist), said in a recent interview that “The idea [of M109] is to create safe space under the facilitation of licensed professionals to explore [the psilocybin] experience for personal benefit.” According to Eckert, taking psilocybin under M109 is “about your consciousness and using psilocybin however you really want to, whether it’s creative, spiritually, or for a therapeutic benefit.” This means, of course, that psilocybin may be used pursuant to religious or spiritual exercise. It means that psilocybin churches might soon become commonplace in Oregon. The intersection of M109 and religious liberties is an important and complex topic that so far has received very little attention during the meetings of OPAB and its 5 subcommittees. Religious exploration is already a large part of this so-called “psychedelic renaissance,” and all signs point to religious use of psychedelics becoming more prevalent over time. Because the “Oregon model” of psychedelic services has become one of the leading models in psychedelic policy reform, it is paramount we build religious protections into the model. In response to public comment, the Oregon Health Authority (“OHA”) recently published the following statement:
Q: Can the psilocybin services be offered within a ceremonial or religious context?
A: Yes, if psilocybin services take place at a licensed service center and is otherwise compliant with statute and rule requirements.
In other words, OHA intends to allow the religious use of psilocybin if performed in accordance with Oregon’s regulatory framework for psilocybin. The preceding sentence constitutes pretty much everything we know so far about how Oregon intends to address religious practice under the measure. This is particularly concerning in light of the fact that OPAB has many complex issues to still resolve, and it must issue its final recommendations by June 30 – meaning there are only 15 hours of full OPAB meeting time remaining. Time is running out for Oregon to create thoughtful and nuanced policy on this matter of great importance. Fortunately, serious conversations about religious practice are about to begin. The February 2 meeting of the Equity Subcommittee and the February 3 meeting of the Licensing Subcommittee and the Equity Subcommittee will address religious use.
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What is Essential to a Religious-Use Framework?
When considering what a religious-use framework might look like under M109, I identify six elements that are essential:
It must permit a broad range of religious practices and ceremonies without unnecessary interference from the government. Protections should accommodate practices and beliefs ranging from traditional Indigenous practices to contemporary Western, Eastern, and neo-shamanic religions that incorporate psilocybin into their practices;
It must create a pathway for religious practice that is affordable to marginalized communities;
The regulations should allow special rules around the growing, storing, handling, and testing of psilocybin mushrooms that reflect the view common in many entheogenic communities that the mushrooms themselves are sacred objects worthy of reverential treatment;
The regulations must provide meaningful oversight of and accountability for religious practitioners, particularly in:
Screening new members;
Disclosing risks/obtaining informed consent;
Preventing abuse; and
Ensuring that religious practice is conducted in a safe manner;
Given the Oregon constitution’s protection of both the religious and the non-religious*, the regulations must not give preferences to “religious” over “non-religious” organizations or individuals. Accordingly, the criteria for who may operate within the “religious framework” should be framed in terms of sincere practice relating to one’s deeply-held values, beliefs, and convictions, rather than affiliation with a religious organization;
It should be simple enough to administer that it does not cause a substantial burden on OHA.
With these considerations in mind, I have taken the liberty of drafting a proposed model regulatory framework for how religious practice could be protected under Measure 109. My proposed framework may be found here:
I am actively seeking stakeholder feedback. Please email me with questions or comments. To execute this project well means compiling and assembling a wide range of stakeholder input, so please do reach out.
One of the fundamental assumptions underlying the model is that if religious-use privileges are only affordable to a small subset of the population, it might actually be better to not grant special religious privileges at all. Perhaps the most iniquitous aspect of M109 is that access to psilocybin will be unaffordable to a lot of people. Luckily, as we will see, religious use privileges can be structured in a manner that creates new pathways to affordable access. Several key features of this framework may be aided by some explanation.
Peer-Support Assistance
Measure 109 requires that all psilocybin be purchased, possessed, and consumed “under the supervision of a …facilitator” (Section 57 (2)). The measure does not otherwise describe what that supervision should look like, which leaves open many possibilities. Currently it appears that Oregon is poised to require that the majority of assistance given to clients must be provided by paid facilitators, who are prohibited from taking psilocybin while serving as a facilitator. If this is the case, even if Oregon adopts liberal rules that require lower amounts of paid facilitation, I estimate that a “cheap” group session, offered by a nonprofit, will not be available for less than $500 per person, including the costs of psilocybin. This is inequitable. We can do much better. Luckily, Indigenous and other religious and spiritual communities have substantial history and experience using plant medicines as sacraments in ceremony. They provide clear proof that ceremony can be safely conducted without the need for paid facilitators who abstain from fully participating in the ceremony. Accordingly, religious communities who operate under M109 should have the option to provide their own peer-support assistance through community members that have been certified by their community as being qualified and capable to provide that assistance. Reasonable minds could disagree about how much the state should regulate that certification. Regulation could be enacted to encourage the slow and sustainable growth of these organizations and to ensure that the clients who provide peer-support assistance are familiar with and oriented to the community in which they intend to serve. Successful implementation of this system will require relationship-building within each community, and the regulations could require that a client be involved with a community for a period of time (which could be defined by a minimum number of ceremonies attended) before they begin providing peer-support assistance. Or the regulations could simply trust the community to responsibly manage itself, particularly in light of the fact that its licensure could be lost if it behaves irresponsibly.
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The freedom to exercise one’s religion means little if paywalls keep most people out. However, if peer-support assistance is allowed, it could avoid having to pay unneeded facilitators to “supervise” ceremonies. The number of facilitators that are needed to safely supervise a ceremony may vary by community, but well-organized communities could conceivably conduct ceremonies safely with only one facilitator present. By reducing the number of facilitators that must be on hand for a ceremony, we drastically reduce the cost of the ceremony. Additionally, many entheogenic religions do not permit people into their ceremonial space who have not consumed at least some amount of their sacrament. The idea in some communities is that the presence of people who are on a different vibrational wavelength (i.e., who have not partaken of the sacrament) fundamentally prevents participants from receiving certain religious benefits. Facilitators are prohibited from taking psilocybin while serving as a facilitator, so allowing facilitators to supervise from outside the ceremonial space is the only option if this view is to be respected. This could be safely done if peer-support assistance were permitted by clients who are participating in the ceremony. This permits a higher degree of self-governance and self-reliance, which is healthy. This peer-support assistance model was inspired in part by the practices of the Church of the Holy Light of the Queen (“CHLQ”). CHLQ is the Santo Diame church who successfully sued the federal government for the right to use Daime (which some people call ayahuasca) in their religious practices.** In their 25 years of practice, it is my understanding that CHLQ has never had a safety situation which they were not able to safely manage internally. For people interested in learning more about that, I interviewed Padhrino Jonathan Goldman, the spiritual leader of CHLQ, on Episode No. 6 of Eyes on Oregon.
Religious Manufacturing Privileges
The religious manufacturing privileges contemplated by the framework are severalfold: 1) Religious communities are granted permission to grow mushrooms in a less-regulated (i.e., far less expensive) manner than is required of standard manufacturers; 2) Religious growers may grow the species of mushrooms using techniques and substrates that are consistent with their beliefs and convictions, provided that products are safe; 3) Testing of religious products is not required, unless indicated by a client’s adverse medical reaction; 4) Religious products may not be delivered to a service center that is not a religious service center; and 5) Religious growers are under a duty to provide safe products and avoid creating nuisances and other environmental hazards. The policy considerations behind the proposed religious manufacturing privileges are two-fold: 1) it gives communities the option to offer very low-cost products (mushrooms are famously cheap to grow); and 2) it creates space for Oregon plant medicine communities who believe that the mushrooms themselves are sacred and must be handled with reverence. Product safety can be maintained without the need for expensive laboratories. Unlicensed, unregulated mushroom growers – many of whom grow in their basements or closets using improvised laboratory equipment – currently create the bulk of consumer psilocybin products. This matters because it serves as a counterpoint to the concern that “under-regulated” manufacturing operations pose a threat to public health or safety. In truth, reports of adverse reactions to unsafe psilocybin products are exceedingly rare, particularly in light of the amount of mushrooms being eaten nowadays. While the idea of permitting a religious or spiritual community to have homegrown sacramental mushrooms might make some people uncomfortable, it’s worth remembering that you can buy myceliated grow kits for gourmet mushrooms virtually everywhere, and society allows that practice without question. Moreover, the practice of a religious or spiritual community handling its own sacrament in accordance with their beliefs and convictions is a practice that predates Oregon statehood.
Oregon is required by M109 to consider the costs of testing to the client when deciding its testing rules, and testing may not be more onerous than is reasonably necessary for health and safety (Section 96 (7)). Moreover, testing standards must be different for different “varieties of psilocybin products” (Section 96 (1)(d)), which could presumably include mushrooms grown for use in religious ceremony. Relaxed testing rules for religious products will help the state achieve its statutory mandate of striving for an affordable system, while also respecting practitioner beliefs. While this could create greater imprecision in dosing, this is the current state of things in our existing unregulated market, and people safely manage that imprecision.
Affordability
In addition to providing meaningful autonomy of religious practice, the combination of peer-support assistance and less-regulated religious manufacturing and testing starts to get us close to an affordable system. If all three are adopted, a lower and more satisfying price point begins to emerge. The costs for services may even be as low as the combination of one facilitator’s time that is spread across multiple clients (or which may be donated by volunteer facilitators), low-cost products sold by a nonprofit manufacturer, and overhead costs of running a nonprofit service center. To drive costs lower still, OHA could adopt a progressive fee structure that permits nonprofit service centers and manufacturers to pay a little less than their “fair share” of the program’s fees. Additionally, onsite manufacturing centers could possibly create a direct manufacturer-to-client sales pipeline that might allow entheogenic service centers to avoid the application of that pesky tax rule, 280E (which disallows tax deductions or credits attributable to businesses that “traffick” controlled substances). This appears to be allowed under M109, as sales by manufacturers must be either “to or on a premises” licensed as a manufacturer or service center (Sections 53 (1)(a) and (2)(a), and Section 57). With all of these cost-savings measures in place, it is foreseeable that a psilocybin ceremony under M109 could cost well under $50 per participant. That’s still too expensive. But it’s considerably better.
Participation in reciprocal exchange programs should be required of all who engage with the M109 program, from clients to testing laboratories. Involvement with a reciprocal exchange program is important because the programs help minimize the harmful impacts that extraction of cultural and natural resources have on the Indigenous plant medicine communities who have stewarded plant medicines for centuries or longer. It also helps ensure that Indigenous knowledge and wisdom do not become lost or forgotten. The proposed model framework requires entheogenic practitioners to have an unspecified level of involvement in a reciprocal exchange program, and an annual public report of that involvement. This doesn’t punish bad actors for negligible involvement, but it provides social incentives for people who can demonstrate meaningful participation.
Discipline of Entheogenic Practitioners
Because this framework gives entheogenic practitioners a considerable set of privileges, it also creates a reciprocal set of duties to use those privileges safely and responsibly. To achieve this, the proposed framework borrows language from the Oregon law that protects the religious use of peyote. In order for religious use of peyote to be protected in Oregon, the use must be done “in a manner that is not dangerous to the health of the user or others who are in the proximity of the user (ORS 475.752(4)).” Oregon should adopt the same standard for psilocybin religions who operate under the measure. Ultimately, if a religious practitioner engages in conduct that is unsafe or irresponsible, the practitioner risks losing their special religious privileges, as well as their general psilocybin licensing. Given the significant financial and personal investment that will go into opening any psilocybin business in Oregon, this provides powerful incentives to operate within the bounds of the regulatory framework.
Conclusion
In conclusion, if we think of M109 not in terms of “therapy” vs. “not therapy,” but rather (as Tom Eckert put it), a “safe space under the facilitation of licensed professionals to explore [the psilocybin] experience for personal benefit,” it appears the best way for Oregon to reduce the most harm to its people is to invite all beneficial use of psilocybin to come and operate within the relative safety of the M109 container. This includes religious use. The model framework proposed herein would create a type of partnership or alliance between religious practitioners and OHA. In exchange for paying licensing fees and submitting to administrative oversight, religious communities who use psilocybin gain mechanisms of accountability*** and the freedom to practice with substantially less fear of criminal repercussions. However, in order for entheogenic practitioners to accept Oregon’s invitation, the M109 religious container must not be unduly restrictive in what it allows, and it must be affordable. If these interests can be balanced, psychedelic religious practice could soon find its way out of the shadows of the underground and into the full light of day. The following is my presentation from the February 3 Oregon Psilocybin Licensing Subcommittee Meeting. Bob Otis of the Sacred Garden Community also presents.
*See, e.g., Meltebeke v. Bureau of Lab. & Indus., 322 Or at 147. (Oregon’s constitutional religious protections “extend[] to religious believers and nonbelievers alike.”) This also avoids giving nonreligious clients a financial incentive to seek religious services from a religious provider, which is important. For more information about the inappropriateness of confusing religious and non-religious containers of psychedelic use, see Matthew Johnson’s article entitled “Consciousness, Religion, and Gurus: Pitfalls of Psychedelic Medicine.” **It’s worth noting that Oregon regulatory agencies have already granted religious exemptions to religious organizations that use controlled substances. See the Oregon Board of Pharmacy’s 2008 letter to CHLQ.
***The need for greater mechanisms of accountability in psychedelic communities is described in horrifying detail in a new podcast series called Cover Story, which is produced by a collaboration of New York Magazine and Psymposia.
“Education is not the filling of a pot, but the lighting of a fire.” – William Butler Yeats
The interest in psychedelics as a therapeutic tool is growing at a rapid pace, both by individuals looking for better solutions outside the current medical regime, and by practitioners looking for new and better ways to help their patients.
Even though regulatory systems lag behind, a paradigm shift in healthcare is clearly under way. The demand for safe, ethical, and effective treatment and integration is growing exponentially. Now more than ever, it is vital that educated, informed practitioners are ready and equipped to provide care when called upon.
After enrolling over 9,000 students in our eLearning platform and graduating over 500 in our eight-week, 47-hour program, Navigating Psychedelics, we’ve heard a lot about what people want and need from an in-depth training program – and also, what isn’t being offered out there. Our students have told us that training can be overly prescriptive, rigid, and clinical, with logistical hurdles and barriers to acceptance.
That’s where Vital comes in. Our new 12-month certificate program fills gaps in the current landscape of psychedelic training – both in course content and structure – and takes a holistic, experiential, and reflective approach to psychedelic practice and integration.
Here’s how Vital is different:
A truly inclusive training program. Vital welcomes students of all backgrounds – licensed or unlicensed clinicians, medically-trained healthcare professionals, legacy operators, and integrative wellness practitioners. All previous experience, informal learning, and formal training will be considered when reviewing applications.
A drug agnostic approach that equips practitioners with the knowledge to work with clients who use or are interested in exploring a range of psychedelics. There is no one-size-fits-all approach to psychedelic therapy, and the potential benefits are not limited to a handful of substances.
A holistic curriculum balanced between clinical and scientific research and protocols, while also focusing on philosophical self-reflection, transpersonal psychology, Indigenous traditions, and somatic approaches to healing trauma.
An opportunity to learn from and interact with world-renowned researchers at an economical scale.
A modular and malleable curriculum with finance and scheduling flexibility, designed to accommodate a global student population.
An open forum on harm reduction that encourages honest discussion on personal experiences with substances in a safe space.
Vital at-a-Glance:
Vital was created by Psychedelics Today Co-Founders Joe Moore and Kyle Buller, M.S., LAC, and a team of people dedicated to helping others master the elements of psychedelic practice and contribute to the healing of the world. The culmination of over 15 years of work in psychedelic practice, the first Vital cohort of 100 students kicks off on “Bicycle Day,” April 19th, 2022.
Course content is packaged into five core modules, covering: psychedelic history and research; clinical therapies; the art of holding space; medical frameworks; and integration theories and techniques. Each comprehensive module spans between seven to ten weeks of specialized lectures led by guest expert teachers as well as more intimate study groups facilitated by our instructors.
The best teachers are those who show you where to look, but don’t tell you what to see.
-Alexandra K. Trenfor
World-Class Teaching Team:
Over the years, Psychedelics Today has developed relationships with a humbling number of leading researchers, historians, clinicians, and bright minds working in research and application, advocacy, spiritual practice, and patient care. We’ve assembled some of the very best to work with Vital students, including:
Ben Sessa, M.D. Chief Medical Officer at Awakn Life Sciences, licensed MDMA and psilocybin therapist, academic writer, and psychedelic psychopharmacology researcher.
Ayize Jama Everett, M.A., M.F.A. Fiction writer, practicing therapist, and Master’s of Divinity who teaches a course called “The Sacred and the Substance” at the Graduate Theological Union.
Richard Schwartz, Ph.D. Developer of the Internal Family Systems (IFS) model, adjunct faculty of the Department of Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School.
We believe that no amount of learning from clinical studies, reading textbooks, or listening to an instructor can make up for first-hand experience with holotropic states. Furthermore, we believe openness and sharing of experience validates clinical evidence, helps inform research and the approach to patient care, and helps undo stigma and misguided perceptions caused by the war on drugs.
Throughout the course, students will be challenged to deepen their personal understanding of psychedelics and reignite their transformation by attending one of six experiential retreats (in either the United States or abroad). Stay tuned for more details on dates, locations and pricing.
While the deeply experiential nature of the course supports the growth of practitioners, the course is also designed to equip participants with the knowledge they need to establish a psychedelic-informed practice from the ground up. For coaches, facilitators, mental health and complementary health practitioners, Vital provides a thriving community of specialists to support their mission.
Promoting Equal Access and Career Development:
Fair access to psychedelic medicine begins with fair access to essential education. In addition to flexible payment plans for all students, we’ve committed to provide scholarships for 20% of students from each cohort, sponsoring up to 100% of tuition to support their mission.
Scholarships are awarded on a case-by-case basis, and are reserved for people who:
Are in demonstrated financial need
Identify as BIPOC
Identify as LGBTQIA+
Are military service members/veterans
Serve marginalized or geographically underserved communities
At the end of the program, graduating students receive a certificate in Psychedelic Therapies and Integration. CE credits will be offered, but stay tuned for more details.
Full details on scholarships and credits are in the extended course brochure, available on the Vital website.
Program registrations are open now, and close at midnight EST on March 27th. Acceptance will be offered based on eligibility and order of submission (with priority to students receiving scholarships). Once all seats in the initial cohort are filled, subsequent approved students will be placed on a waitlist and invited to join the course when a spot becomes available. Interested students are encouraged to apply as soon as possible. Apply here.
Gathering as professionals in psychedelics has taken on new meaning. It’s more – a lot more – than just networking now.
In early December, Horizons: Perspectives on Psychedelics (an annual conference often referred to just as ‘Horizons’) re-emerged from the proverbial ashes of COVID-19; a pandemic that led to the dismantling of social connectivity and a general feeling like we were moving with momentum. With the pandemic came distance: social distance, emotional distance, and psychological distance. We stopped going to work together, we stopped learning together, we stopped moving and growing together. Reconvening at Horizons was therefore much more significant than just attending a regular conference.
Pandemic or not, the Horizons conference already played the role of a psychedelic sandbox where the psychedelic community convenes each year – a place where we get to see how widespread the community really is, and where each conversation is an opportunity to learn from our peers. It is a place where we can learn together, cry together, break bread together, and dance together. It is a place where we can be our most authentic selves, see others, and be seen. And it is a place where difficult conversations are encouraged to be had.
I heard a colleague explain that at other conferences, we are often introducing psychedelics to a new audience that sometimes lacks the capacity to grasp the shadow of psychedelic therapy. Contrarily, Horizons seeks to shed light on our shadow. It seeks to broaden our collective dreams of what is possible in the psychedelic space while learning from our past. By having those difficult conversations in front of 2,000 people, we get to grow collectively – as a community, and as a movement. And this year’s Horizons, more than ever, was an opportunity to rebuild a sense of collective effervescence.
Collective Effervescence
Sociologist Emile Durkheim coined the term “collective effervescence“as a “shared state of high emotional arousal related to intensification of emotions by social sharing, felt in religious and secular collective rituals, irrespective of their content (joyful feasts or sad funerary rituals), which empowers the individual.” Essentially, collective effervescence occurs when there is a shared sense of engagement with something bigger than the self, warranting a personal sense of empowerment. In developing the Perceived Emotional Synchrony Scale, psychologists Anna Wlodarczyk, Larraitz Zumeta, and their fellow researchers determined that some of the key conditions for collective effervescence to emerge are a “shared attention on one or more symbolic stimuli” and a sense of “intentional coordination or behavioral synchrony among the participants in a given gathering.” Ultimately, they argued that “the relevance of emotional synchronization in collective gatherings [is] conducive to strong forms of social identification, particularly the overlapping of the individual with the collective self.”
Our new 12-month certificate program, Vital, begins April 19th. Registration is closed, but sign up for the waitlist for next year’s edition now at vitalpsychedelictraining.com!
By blurring the lines between the individual and the collective self, Wlodarczyk and her colleagues suggested that a sense of collective effervescence ultimately “pulls humans fully but temporarily into the higher realm of the sacred, where the self disappears and collective interests predominate.” It is no surprise that a conference discussing the ethics and future of the psychedelic movement would incite a collective effervescence so strong that a perceived sense of emotional synchrony may occur, where there is indeed a “co-present other” that becomes closer and closer to a perceived sense of self.
This is how I want to see the psychedelic movement evolving and growing, with the collective interest dominating a sense of self. The uniqueness and radicalness of this movement will only come from our ability to enter into this shared sense of togetherness, and into a “higher realm of the sacred” and not to bypass it. How can we do this?
“Shadow work” is a term those in the psychedelic movement have heard countless times. In psychedelic healing, shadow work is not about eradicating the shadow. Rather, it is about shedding light on it and getting to know it deeply, so that when it shows up, it is not unfamiliar. By working with the shadow, we become better equipped to handle what may come up as a result of trauma. If we do not have a safe space to have these conversations, to be held in our confusion, and to be educated on our blind spots, then how can we move forward? How can we call ourselves a revolution if we are not rethinking the way we engage with our work each and every year?
Horizons is a place where we learn about cutting edge research in science and in the clinic, new models for approaching business, and cultural matters. But more importantly, it’s an opportunity to converge as a community and reflect on the previous year together, shedding light on our blind spots and engaging in shadow work to build a sense of collective effervescence and a unified goal. While there were many great presentations this year, three in particular really encapsulated all of this.
Doing the Work with Laura Mae Northrup
Without a doubt, the most impactful talk of the weekend for me was from marriage and family therapist, Laura Mae Northrup, who, in light of recent events, spoke about sexual misconduct in the psychedelic space. Shivers ran down my spine as she powerfully proclaimed these words into the microphone: “Mental health clinicians self-report engaging in sexual violations with their clients at rates of 7-12%. We don’t have data on corresponding rates of psychedelic therapies, but we have no reasonto believe it would be any less than our non-psychedelic counterparts.” She spoke with conviction, with grace, and emotion. She had us all in tears, reflecting on the very real fact that the clinicians who are at a higher rate of sexually abusing their clients are male clinicians who were sexually abused as kids.
Northrup highlighted that we are in a cycle of abuse; that healing trauma is painful, and without doing so effectively, we will continue to cause harm to others. She did not name names, and she did not stand on that stage building a pedestal for herself (regardless of how compelling it seemed, as she noted). Instead, she served her community and said what needed to be said. If there was one takeaway from her powerful talk, it was that “we need to heal ourselves.” She took what was frantically scrambling around everyone’s minds and hearts, and put it into powerful and sensical words. She made it make sense.
Tears continued to flow down my face as Horizons founder Kevin Balktick approached the podium, applauding Northrup for the outstanding courage it took for her to get on that stage and speak from her heart. He then declared that sexual abuse and misconduct should not be a “women’s issue”; that it always has, and certainly should be, a men’s issue as well.
Eradicating the Promise of a “Miracle Cure” with Juliana Mulligan
The second presentation that captivated my attention was from ibogaine treatment specialist, Juliana Mulligan, who spoke of her experience of being sent to jail for using heroin, being thrown on the streets in the middle of Bogota, Colombia, and finally seeking refuge in what she was told was a miracle “cure” for opioid dependence. She then shared her own horrifying journey of getting off of opioids by going to an ibogaine center that did not have the proper protocols in place.
She brought about gasps in the crowd when she told us that the clinic did not have a heart monitor and that they gave her twice the safe dose of ibogaine – certainly enough to kill anyone, she clarified. When the clinic noticed her abnormal EKG readings and decided to seek professional and medical help, she was refused by three hospitals largely due to a lack of understanding on how to handle her situation, being overwhelmed with patients, and not believing that someone her age could be having a heart problem. Finally, when the fourth hospital almost turned her away, she had her first of six cardiac arrests due to her high dose of ibogaine. She explained that she remembers very little about her experience on ibogaine, but that she woke up with a tiny fraction of the usual opioid withdrawal symptoms, the feeling of a huge weight lifted from the guilt and shame of years of substance use, and a newfound clarity around her life’s mission.
Despite her experience at this ibogaine clinic, Mulligan has not turned her back on the promise of ibogaine in treating opioid dependence. In fact, she has dedicated part of her career to ensuring that people are equipped with the tools and knowledge on how to choose an ethical and effective ibogaine clinic – something she realized was necessary due to the many vulnerable people who don’t know what to look for when choosing an ibogaine clinic. Often, people do not take the time to learn about the proper protocols needed to provide this treatment, with many acting out of desperation in an attempt to “fix” their issues as quickly as possible. Her main point was to remind us of the dangers of selling ibogaine as a “miracle cure,” and how damaging it can be for people to have the idea that Ibogaine will fix their issues overnight.
Speaking Softly in Recollection with William Leonard Pickard
Finally, ex-convict William Leonard Pickard held us all in a state of awe as he eloquently and captivatingly shared his story of spending 21 years in prison for allegedly producing 90% of the United States’ supply of LSD. He spoke softly, and took long pauses between his sentences, his descriptive tone allowing me to truly visualize the scene where a CIA agent pointed a rifle at his forehead while uttering, “I’m going to blow your brains out.” He told us about the violence that occurred in prison, and how he became desensitized to fights and killings while he would quietly sit and eat his lunch. He showed us photos of a prison cell, and told us about how he fell in love with American Literature, and that without that – coupled with deep meditation, he may have not survived.
Pickard reminded us all why we were sitting in that room and why we need to change the way psychedelics have been viewed since the 1970s. The majority of the people in that room are privileged enough to never experience going to jail for psychedelics, and getting a glimpse into that reality reminded us why rewriting the psychedelic script in America is critical.
Composting Emotions into Inspiration
In exploring rituals where collective effervescence is powerful, Wlodarczyk and her team discuss the way in which both positive and negatively valenced rituals ultimately lead to a shared sense of emotion and heightened well-being. Indeed, what truly comes through in these rituals is “the creation of a positive emotional atmosphere in which grief, sadness, anger, and fear are transformed into hope, solidarity, and trust.”
Contextualizing these experiences –sexual misconduct in psychedelic healing, the wrongful advertisement of ibogaine as a miracle cure, and the harsh realities of the drug war and the American justice system – provides our collective community with the opportunity to transform these emotions of grief, sadness, anger, and fear into a shared sense of solidarity. We were provided with the opportunity to compost these moments of disappointment and turn them into something productive, where the unified goal of ethically bringing psychedelics to modern American lives empowers each and every one of us, both on a collective and individual level. This is how we can heal and move forward as a collective movement.
These three presentations are simply a glimpse into the moving stories that were told on that stage. The breadth of content shared allowed us the opportunity to reflect on what the world could look like once we systematically dismantle the war on drugs, and what is effectively involved in doing so: the clinical trials for which researchers have put their careers on the line, the endless volunteer hours that policy makers and lawyers have been putting toward changing legislation, the repairing of relationships with Indigenous communities through the work of the Native American Church and the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, the importance of doing our own work in order to help others heal from their trauma, and the dangers of presenting psychedelics as a magic bullet.
There are many pathways to attain psychedelic healing. Horizons provides a space for the entire range of themes that ought to be considered in bringing psychedelics to the modern world. In order to achieve this goal, we must do so collectively. We must reimagine what it means to be successful, and we can only do this by building a collective sense of self. To do this, we must continue to have these conversations, processing fear and anger into hope and solidarity. If we want to see the psychedelic movement radically change the world we are living in, we must face the music by continuing to have these difficult conversations and seek to elevate collective effervescence.
Our understanding of the brain in the 1800s was quite different from what we know today – and pretty weird, too.
You can’t throw a tab of LSD without hitting a story about psychedelics these days. While psychedelics are going through a scientific renaissance, 150 years ago, the field was a circus of misinformation and racism. Occasionally though, through that potpourri of misguided madness, it nailed some concepts that still hold up today. Granted, future scientists will most likely write an article clowning the state of psychedelics in the early 2000s to today, but let me be the first to start that vicious cycle by highlighting some of the more ridiculous concepts people believed in the 19th Century.
While there may have been many ethnographic studies of psychedelics dating back to the Bronze Age, the concept of modern neuroscience is a fairly new field. In the 1880s, the interest in neuroscience formed from humanity’s attempt to explain mental illness and addiction through scientific terms as opposed to supernatural spirits possessing bodies. Some neuroscientists in the 19th century believed a person’s cognition, along with predisposition of behavioral traits was rooted in neuroanatomy, which some believed was reflected in the physical structure of the skull. The idea that chemistry played a role in brain functionality was a novel concept that didn’t have much support in the scientific community in the early 1880s. In fact, the closest thing science got to neurochemistry was in 1809, when Johann Christian Reil soaked a brain in pure alcohol for a week just to see what would happen (if you’re wondering, it got really hard and took on the texture of shoe leather).
To first understand the state of neuroscience in the 1800s, we must first comprehend the state of science at the time, and it was bonkers.
Cell Theory, Darwin, and Phrenology
The idea that all living organisms consisted of cells and that all cells originated from pre-existing cells (cell theory) proposed by German physiologist Theodor Schwann in 1839 was revolutionary. It shifted the deeply-held religious belief that life originated supernaturally, and instead, emerged from biological means. It sounds trivial now, but society took a collective seat and came to the realization that each person was a community of cells working in unison to create a ‘Bob,’ Connie,’ or ‘Karen’ (and of course, all those Karen cells wanted to see the manager shortly after being created).
Twenty years after the world recovered from Schwann’s cell theory, Darwin dropped The Origin of a Species, giving birth to the concept of evolution, a radical idea that once again shifted humanity’s focus away from divine creation and more closely towards the modern worldview we hold today.
Science in the 1800s was also notoriously racist. Many people used Darwin’s evolutionary theory to justify hateful pseudoscience that revealed the most vile aspects of humanity. While he was able to consciously remove himself from the 19th century racism that prevailed in science at the time, most could not. Franz Joseph Gall constructed the basic ideologies of phrenology in 1808, which was a belief that a person’s mental aptitude could be determined by bumps and ridges in a person’s skull — evidence Gall believed was the pressure of the neuroanatomy of the brain on the skull. More specifically, he believed a person’s behavior was localized in different compartments in the brain — a total of 28 areas to be exact. Things like ‘the firmness of purpose,’ ‘love of poetry,’ and even a place in the brain that’s responsible for a person’s tendency to murder, Gall insisted, could be determined through cranial anatomy.
When phrenology emerged in Europe in the 1800s, most scientists discarded the idea since its foundations were based on faulty neuroanatomical information. Gall was tossed out of Austria for proposing such an obviously absurd idea and eventually ended up in France, where even Napoleon Bonaparte ridiculed his concept of phrenology. When the rest of the world seemed to collectively reject phrenology as the pseudoscience it truly was, it found a home in America — because at that conflicted time, obviously it would.
With abolitionist movements spreading across the country along with the social underpinnings of what would be known as the Civil War, phrenology was used as a “scientific” reason to justify slavery in America and the overall disgusting treatment of Indigenous people as land continued to be removed from tribal territories. However, phrenology did have its fierce opponents, like John P. Harrison, editor of the Western Lancet, a peer-reviewed medical journal that caught the attention of Southern political leaders when it was introduced to America (and is still in print today). With the assistance of books like Phrenology Vindicatedby Charles Caldwell and Crania Americana by Samuel Morton, political leaders had the “scientific” backing to make absurd claims like Africans were neurologically designed to be enslaved and Indigenous Americans were biologically a different species than white people — which made stealing their land a natural process ordained by God.
Amongst the incendiary nature of science during the 19th century, the unlikely emergence of psychedelic neuroscience occurred — and like all things in the 1800s, it was undoubtedly a product of its time. That’s a nice way to say it was sometimes wrong and mostly racist, but interestingly enough, it got some things right.
Neuroscience can be defined as the objective study of the brain and the central nervous system. The first neuroscientist to analyze the effects of psychedelics was Germany’s Louis Lewin in his book, Phantastica. Although it was officially released in 1924 when Lewin was 74, it contained his collected psychedelic research that took place in the late 1800s. Among the many drugs he categorized, he decided not to call psychedelics “hallucinogens” since not all substances elicit a hallucinatory response. “Phantastica” was the word he decided on, along with other equally interesting names like “Inebriantia” for drugs like alcohol, and my personal favorite, “Excitantia” for substances like caffeine and nicotine.
Lewin was never really a scientific rock star in his time though, mostly because he refused to renounce his Jewish heritage in 19th-century Germany – racism and anti-Semitism in the scientific community at this time went hand-in-hand. However, Lewin did get the props he deserved in psychedelics when Paul Henning of the Berlin Botanical Museum named peyote Anhalonium Lewiniiin Lewin’s honor.
Around the time Lewin came on the scene, most people were describing psychedelics in a subjective manner, wrapped up in pseudo-science and religious mysticism. People weren’t tripping because of psychedelic-induced neurological activity — evil spirits possessed the taker of the psychedelic, which meant evil behavior was soon to follow. Metaphysics, with its focus on the nature of human consciousness and existence, was rapidly growing in the 1800s. Lewin believed that describing psychedelics in metaphysical terms would ruin what we could potentially learn from them. His research was wholly focused on dispelling the pseudoscience that surrounded psychedelics, yet Lewin fell into the trap of anointing psychedelics with otherworldliness with his idea that an invisible force called ‘vital energy’ surrounded all living things. Lewin believed this vital energy governed all chemical, mechanical, and physical properties of each person and that psychedelics had the ability to interrupt this energy. He also believed a person’s resistance to psychedelics was dependent on the strength of their vital energy.
This wasn’t the first time Lewin would take an L in his neuroscientific research of psychedelics. When assessing the capability of certain psychedelics on the brain, he assumed (1924, p. 8) that black people naturally had a higher recovery rate than whites:
“We may take it as a fact that Negroes have greater recuperation powers than white people. This is due not to climatic conditions but to certain innate qualities possessed by them.”
In his writings, he didn’t seek to prove this theory — it was just taken as matter-of-fact; another symptom of the 19th century. Lewin also insisted Indigenous people knew of their own racial inferiority, which is why they self-medicated with psychedelics:
“The Indians of South America are said to have an intuitive appreciation of their own defectiveness, and to be ever ready to rid themselves of such melancholy feelings by intense excitement, i.e. through kola and similar drugs” (p. 2).
Still somehow, Lewin believed psychedelics ‘form bonds in people of all walks of life’ (p. 7). He realized the diversity of people was so great that a one-size-fits-all explanation of human physiology and psychology in regards to psychedelics wouldn’t suffice. Likely influenced by Darwin’s The Origin of Species, Lewin made a strong case for the adaptations of organisms to a variety of external influences like psychedelics. He believed a skilled anthropologist could trace the development of culture directly to the availability of psychedelics, an idea shared 100 years later in Terence McKenna’s Food of the Gods. Lewin was also one of the first scientists to see the health benefits of psychedelics, mostly based on accounts of Indigenous people taking them for mental health.
In the 1800s, a small but prevailing idea amongst scientists was that psychedelics created a “trip” by activating ductless glands in the body to secrete hormones into the endocrine system. Lewin thought the theory was BS and instead theorized that psychedelics excite certain “brain centers” to “transmit agreeable sensations” (p. 3) through the chemistry of the substance. He basically described what we now know as psychedelics acting as serotonergic agonists that bind to mostly 5-HT2A receptors in the brain — an original theory Lewin established nearly 50 years before the discovery of serotonin.
Lewin’s assumption that psychedelics hit specific cortical regions through something like the serotonin system was remarkable, but only because he made other successful guesses like recognizing that every chemical study on the brain up to that point was conducted ex vivo, or on a dead brain, and that in vivo neuro research conducted on a living brain may have chemicals that were not present or didn’t transform into something else upon death. He also knew about the brain’s need for oxygenated blood and suggested that psychedelics may affect this process. Neuroscience had to wait 100 years for Lewin’s idea to be tested with BOLD (Blood Oxygen Level Dependent) brain imaging through MRI.
When it came to theoreticals, Lewin had a few. One of his notable ones was the idea of a toxic equation, which is a loose formula that dictates everyone has a certain resistance to the effects of psychedelics based on their neurophysiology and overall physiology. On the surface, it sounds like a reasonable idea, but digging deeper, it gets a bit irrational. His general belief was that people built up a resistance to psychedelics due to parts of the brain weakening and not being able to process these substances. There’s still no proof of this over a century later though, and in 2021, Dr. Ling-Xiao Shao conducted research that pointed to the opposite. Psilocybin actually strengthens dendritic density in the brain and repairs neurons that have atrophied due to stress and depression. Lewin also believed cells had ‘will-power’ and when a person takes a psychedelic after not taking it for a long time, the memory of the ‘agreeable sensation’ is just too strong to resist and that’s how people become addicted again (p. 18).
Learning From the History of Psychedelics
Unfortunately, psychedelic neuroscience research didn’t really catch on in the 19th century, mostly because civilization almost collapsed due to a global opioid addiction that crippled nearly every economy and led to prohibition in the early 1900s. The bigotry and racism of the 19th century confined Louis Lewin’s research of psychedelics into a box that takes a lot of ethical unpacking to fully absorb.
The origin of neuroscience is shrouded in poorly constructed science and whacky ideas which were specifically designed to marginalize groups of people from the discussion of who could be considered human. It has a dark past, but with a more defined scientific method and newer ideas, the future of psychedelic neuroscience is whatever we make it. In every natural system, diversity is the key defining factor for the progression of that system. These ideas aren’t mine or even new — Darwin wrote several books on this. This same need for diversity also applies to psychedelic neuroscientific research. History shouldn’t serve as an obstacle for the exponential amount of discovery that can be revealed if we all work together. We will get there.
Some commentary on recent events and long-standing issues in psychedelia.
The psychedelic world had a major shake-up in the past few weeks. A few popular teachers in the space had some pretty serious accusations leveled at them by Will Hall, who has previously been on our podcast here and here.
You can read Will’s article on Mad in America here. He had further things to say in this article on Medium.
I’ve been hearing rumors and firsthand accounts related to the accused for a few years now and have been working internally and with allies on the best approach for dealing with it all.
It’s not talked about a lot, but sex and psychedelics are closely linked (drugs and sex generally, for that matter). Think about the sexual liberation that boomed in the 1960s and is still seen in parts of the Burning Man and EDM culture today. Think about how powerful feelings of love and connection can be while on any number of mind-altering substances, and how easily they could morph into something more sexual.
Perhaps you’ve never experienced it, but regularly in psychedelic therapy sessions, sexual feelings do arise and can create challenging dynamics for both the client and therapist to navigate. What does someone in a fragile mind state, dealing with a maze of conflicting emotions and energies, do with an affectionate or sexual feeling they may suddenly have? What does the therapist do? How does either person know they can truly trust the other? This all leads to a big question many may not want to consider: Is it possible to totally divorce sexual feelings and ideas from psychedelic sessions?
I’d suggest that no, it isn’t possible. Psychedelics unleash all sorts of energies without any bias or filter, so why would sexual energy be exempt?
Our new 12-month certificate program, Vital, begins April 19th. Registration is closed, but sign up for the waitlist for next year’s edition now at vitalpsychedelictraining.com!
I believe that psychedelics can be transformative for mental health, religious practice, spirituality, physical healing, creativity, celebration, rites of passage, and even for the development of planet-saving technology — and this is an abbreviated list. Psychedelics are extremely powerful things that can serve as near miracle cures and beautiful spectacles, but unfortunately, they can also be used as weapons.
For a long time on the podcast (and in day-to-day life — sorry, friends), I’ve complained about how I’ve unintentionally taken on the role of the “Psychedelic Police.” Because of my many years in the psychedelic world and my perceived expertise, many folks have divulged negative or abusive stories about what they’ve experienced in underground (and occasionally aboveground) situations. I shouldn’t complain about this, since it’s an honor to be so trusted, and some stories may have helped me side-step traps Psychedelics Today could have fallen into.
It is frustrating though, and puts me in a tough spot.
Due entirely to the drug war, there are serious legal and financial consequences for bringing such things to light on behalf of someone else. What if the story isn’t entirely true? What if it is, but can’t be proven? What if proving it relies on multiple people admitting illegal activity and they’re not willing to do that? I could be hit with cease-and-desist letters, defamation lawsuits, or just be perpetually dragged into court for any number of things. Lawyers are expensive and what’s right doesn’t always win. Without ruining my reputation and finances, and possibly destroying my best tool for bringing positive impact to the psychedelic space (this very website), I have little recourse. We have developed some ideas about the next best steps, but it is hard to know with certainty if we are doing the right thing. So I do what I can, which never feels like enough. I anonymize these stories and turn them into generic ethical warnings, encouraging people to do their research and be as safe as possible.
At the Horizons Conference in 2019, Dr. Carl Hart suggested that immediately ending the drug scheduling system would be an amazing first step in resolving a range of harmful consequences from the war on drugs. Others have proposed that a state-by-state or region-based decriminalization similar to what we’ve seen over the last few years in Oakland, Oregon, and Denver would be the ideal starting point (especially from the perspective of political expediency). Whichever side of the solution you land on, I think we can all agree that we need to fix our laws around controlled substances and plants.
Given that facilitators and guides work with substances that are federally illegal, there could be massive consequences for someone participating in underground work who is apprehended by law enforcement for any reason. For both the facilitator and the participant; consider the attention to detail needed to ensure you’re protected from liability, the knowledge and support systems needed to be able to handle serious medical cases, and the amount of apprehension and secrecy necessary to maintain anonymity for all involved. Add in the complications of how differently an action can be perceived by different people in different mind states, and this almost creates an incentive structure to sweep things under the rug — a bypassing of anything perceived as a threat to the overall good. People who could force change can be, and often are banished from communities for asking the “wrong” questions.
Since so many people are forced to operate in an underground capacity, it makes sense that these problems exist. And they will continue to exist if we can’t have open and honest conversations about what we’re experiencing, and start working together to figure out how to answer so many of these complicated questions within the confines of the drug war.
How do we talk about sex and psychedelics?
What are the appropriate ways to deal with sexual energies and consent in situations where people consume mind-altering substances in situations with clear power dynamic differentials?
How do we report issues of abuse to local leaders and elders?
Will they fight for us?
Do they have any teeth?
What capacity do they have to investigate?
Does the victim have any legal ground?
Will law enforcement toss out reports due to drugs being involved?
What if other senior leaders become complicit in a cover-up surrounding their colleagues?
At what point should leaders step down and elevate new leaders?
Is restorative justice even possible if the victim or perpetrator doesn’t feel safe or supported enough to come to the table?
While some acts are inexcusable, we have to be honest with ourselves and understand that good people make mistakes; bad people can be anywhere; and while it’s easy to blame the individual person, bad policies and dysfunctional systems incentivize bad behavior and can scare good people into silence.
Ending the destructive and racist drug war in the US and internationally would improve safety and transparency in vulnerable spaces that often don’t have much of either. When the legal status of underground work is improved, frameworks for safety can be established, and abusers simply won’t be able to get away with bad behavior to the same degree they can today. When we can be more open, people will be safer, and practices can be improved more rapidly.
Ending the drug war is an enormous undertaking, and while there aren’t clear steps on how to accomplish such an incredible feat, many in this field are working tirelessly to do what they can.
The best thing I can do is to use my voice at Psychedelics Today; creating courses, podcasts, and articles that help normalize psychedelics as part of everyday, contemporary life; shed light on under-discussed topics; and give voices to people who aren’t well-known in the space.
I will continue to do my best to address these tough questions around abuse. I hope you’ll join me.
What is the ‘Anima Mundi’ and how can it help us understand psychedelic experiences?
This is part of our column ‘Psychedelics in Depth‘ which defines and explains depth psychology topics in the context of psychedelics.
Once upon a time, people saw nature as vividly alive, full of gods, spirits, and beings that existed beyond the realm of human culture. Nature was ensouled, and the earth was animate. In the tradition of depth psychology, this concept is known as the Anima Mundi: the Soul of the world. In this article we will explore the interplay between psychedelics, the earth, and the spirit of place.
Can psychedelics put us in touch with a more-than-human intelligence that emanates from the earth itself? Do certain places carry particular energies or “souls” which psychedelics might allow us to perceive? Finally, what role can psychedelics play situated at the crossroads of nature and culture, especially in this time of dire ecological collapse?
Ask yourself: have you ever felt immersed in some ineffable communication with an aspect of the natural world during a psychedelic experience? Have you ever felt uneasy upon setting foot in certain places, yet unable to say why? Have you ever felt a powerful sensation upon visiting an ancient redwood grove, a stone circle, or one of the earth’s many sacred sites?
Truth be told, there is an extremely high likelihood that most long-time users of psychedelics would report at least one instance of the natural world having a profound influence on their trip in ways that defy rationality.
But before we go any further, a story.
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Land Memory and Psychedelics
I work as a psychedelic therapist with MycoMeditations, a legal psilocybin retreat based in Jamaica. I’m fortunate to get detailed insights into a vast array of psychedelic experiences on an almost weekly basis.
During one retreat, a woman shared about a repetitive vision she had during her trips. She explained how, on each mushroom journey, she heard a certain kind of “tribal music”—drumming and singing in an incomprehensible language. During her third and highest dose, she found herself near a campfire glimpsing the “people” responsible for this ecstatic sound. She described them in detail, especially their uniquely pointed heads. She had no explanation for this.
As it happens, the Taino, the Indigenous people of Jamaica and the wider Caribbean, practiced what is known as “cranial shaping,” a method of elongating the skulls of their newborns. This practice, done by many Indigenous peoples of the Americas, was a distinguishing cultural marker of the Taino, who lived in greatest numbers on Jamaica’s south coast—exactly where MycoMeditations happens to be based.
In fact, the very stretch of coast where our retreats occur, an area now called Treasure Beach, is known as an archaeologically rich zone for Taino pottery, confirming this region as one of, if not the most significant ancient centers for the Jamaican Taino population.
As a colleague informed me, guests having visions of “pointy-headed people” was not something new to her. She was utterly unfazed by this seemingly inexplicable synchronicity.
What do we make of this? Despite mounting research, there is still a healthy dose of mystery lingering about these plants and molecules. To discard her experience as meaningless, or simply ‘coincidence,’ either briskly diminishes its significance and robs her of potential avenues for meaning-making—the very antithesis of psychedelic therapy and integration—or reveals something concerning about the practitioner themselves.
No psychedelic facilitator worth their salt attempts to dictate the meaning behind someone’s experience.
Depth psychology would have us take seriously these moments of exchange between the human psyche and the living earth, and encourage us to lean into these liminal crossroads of perception. For if myth and medicine tells us anything, it is that the most fertile ground for growth is where our domesticated understanding of life ends and the wild unknown of the forest begins.
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The Anima Mundi and the Ensouled World
Yet, why is it that the idea of a tree or a river or a gust of wind having something to say to us is so unsettling? Why is the notion of an ‘inanimate object’ having some claim on our senses so confronting to the modern Western psyche?
Author and professor of history, Theodore Roszak, who coined the term ecopsychology (along with counterculture, interestingly enough,) wrote in his book Voice of the Earth, “If we could assume the viewpoint of nonhuman nature, what passes for sane behavior in our social affairs might seem madness. But as the prevailing reality principle would have it, nothing could be greater madness than to believe that beast and plant, mountain and river have a ‘point of view.”
To believe that the natural world has a point of view, or is ‘ensouled’, as archetypal psychologist James Hillman explored in his book, Re-Visioning Psychology, is to understand that rocks and waterfalls contain an equally relevant quality of psyche that allows for avenues of communication between our two seemingly disparate beings.
The idea that the world itself has a Soul, and is therefore an animate, even conscious being, is one of the most radical notions within the depth tradition. Carl Jung deemed this old idea the Anima Mundi: a concept with rootsgoing far back into esoteric religious and mystical traditions such as hermeticism, gnosticism, kabbala, and of course countless Indigenous traditions across the world.
Tracing European culture’s disconnection from this ancient notion of the ensouled earth, Jung wrote in his Collected Works Volume 11, “The development of Western philosophy during the last two centuries has succeeded in isolating the mind in its own sphere and in severing it from its primordial oneness with the universe. Man himself has ceased to be the microcosm and eidolon [image] of the cosmos, and his ‘anima’ is no longer the consubstantial scintilla, spark of the Anima Mundi, World Soul.”
The research on psychedelics’ capacity to dissolve the ego and increase one’s connection to nature places these substances in direct conversation with the climate crises, which could be seen as an equally, if not even more valuable benefit of psychedelics.
Embracing the notion of the Anima Mundi can help us navigate and integrate psychedelic experiences that blur the culturally constructed lines that our society would have us believe separates humanity from the living earth.
In this regard, the Anima Mundi and depth psychology asks us to question many pillars of European thought, specifically the legacy of Enlightenment thinkers like René Descartes, whose work marked a decisive turning point by cleaving apart any remaining threads of pagan belief, which connected European consciousness to the living earth.
The Research: Nature-Relatedness and Psychedelics
If generations of ceremonial plant medicine use by Indigenous people across the globe was not sufficient evidence, current research shows us that psychedelics can foster a greater sense of connectedness to the natural world. A 2019 study by Kettner et al. concluded that a sense of “nature relatedness was significantly increased 2 weeks, 4 weeks, and 2 years after a psychedelic experience”, and that the frequency of lifetime psychedelic use was positively correlated to a baseline sense of nature relatedness in healthy participants.
Concluding their research, Kettner et al. wrote: “With the loss of self-referential boundaries being a defining characteristic of ego-dissolution experiences under psychedelics, as well as experiences of awe in nature, it may be that the loss of perceived boundaries between the self and the other may in turn facilitate an expanded perception of self/nature continuity or overlap, reflected by increased feelings of nature relatedness.”
This discussion of “self/nature continuity or overlap,” invokes and calls into question the legacy of Descartes mentioned above. Indeed, it places these types of psychedelic experiences squarely in the other corner from centuries of Western philosophy and worldviews. In the age of global climate collapse, the implications of this research cannot be understated.
Current research on psychedelic medicine’s potential to treat many intractable mental health issues is invaluable, to be sure. As a mental health professional, I could not be more thrilled. Yet, the research on psychedelics’ capacity to dissolve the ego and increase one’s connection to nature places these substances in direct conversation with the climate crises, which could be seen as an equally, if not even more valuable benefit of psychedelics.
Many Indigenous traditions embrace what anthropologists called an “animistic” way of perception, and have woven it into their cosmologies, ceremonies, and the very fabric of their cultural belief systems. The personification of plants and places within certain Indigenous traditions, especially terms like “madre ayahuasca”, “grandfather peyote”, or “La Pastora” (one of the many Mazatec names for Salvia divinorum) plainly acknowledges that there is more going on within the earth than an “inanimate” accumulation of minerals and dirt.
From my own time spent with Indigenous peoples from many different cultures, as well as years of formal academic study in anthropology, religion, and depth psychology, this is one of the clearest messages that I’ve received: the earth does indeed have something to say to us, if only we can remember how to listen.
Indigenous ways have always been relevant to depth psychology because of this very understanding, that the earth is undeniably ensouled, living, sentient, and worthy of respect. Psychedelics can play a crucial role in helping many people remember this humble fact, and guide us down a path which, at heart, requires a style of listening, reverence, and attention which our culture has quite painfully forgotten.
Anima Mundi for Facilitators: Relationship to Place, Grief and Soul
Now would be a reasonable time to ask how any of this applies to actually working with people navigating and integrating psychedelic experiences.
To start, establishing some form of relationship to the actual land where one’s work takes place is the bare minimum. Learn about the Indigenous people of your particular place, who they are and were, and any Indigenous place names you can manage to dig up; even better if you can learn it in person from their living descendants, and cultivate a relationship with them.
The story shared at the beginning of this article would have not meant much to me if I were ignorant of the Taino people and their particular practice of shaping their skulls. Uncovering the untold story of the land, its ecological and geological timeline, and especially its history of human migration, colonization, and modernization, must factor into a holistically grounded relationship with a place.
Sitting with the raw story of a place often leads one down the dark stairwell of grief. This is a good thing. But it is wise to be prepared for it, and to know how to support others who may find themselves immersed in a story whose weight might be much more than they can bear. Grief, however, can be one of the most profound gateways to feeling, and therefore to the Soul. Psychedelic experiences which bring one face to face with land-grief are important because they are emanations from the place itself. One could say that it is one of the earth’s many attempts to speak to human beings—a process which we have conditioned ourselves to largely ignore.
Finally, cultivating one’s own relationship to the natural world, to the unique curvature and temperament of a place, will inform what occurs when the mists of the otherworld begin to encircle one’s perception. Personally, before any psychedelic journey, I offer some tobacco, and ask permission from whatever ancestors called that place home. You wouldn’t just wander into someone’s house without knocking first. There are many reasons for doing this, the least of all being that it’s simply polite.
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Closing Thoughts on Anima Mundi and Psychedelics
Psychedelics can provide a key to unlocking our culturally fractured and traumatized relationship to the natural world, and its indwelling Soul, the Anima Mundi. Psychedelics have the capacity to dissolve the ego and open one to experiences of awe in nature, which in turn help a sense of greater nature relatedness take root.
As individuals, we need awe-inspiring encounters with the Anima Mundi which crack open the ego and reveal the Soul. As a culture, we are in dire need of a renewed sense of reverence and respect for the more than-human-world, which psychedelics may be able to instill in our increasingly adrift society. And as ensouled beings, we need deeply personal, Soul-level encounters with something greater than ourselves, which help us remember how to listen to the language being sung all around us.
The other road, I’m sorry to say, is bleak.
The poet-philosopher Goethe knew this when he wrote, “And so long as you haven’t experienced this: to die and so to grow, you are only a troubled guest on the dark earth.”
About the Illustrator
Martin Clarke is a British Designer and Illustrator from Nottingham, England. Specializing in branding, marketing and visual communication, Martin excels at creating bespoke brand identities and striking visual content across multiple platforms for web, social media, print and packaging. See more of his work here.
Microdosing TikTok is a vibrant community of everyday people researching and experimenting with microdosing for mental health, and finding support in the process.
What if I told you that the microdosing movement has taken TikTok by storm? Or that TikTok wasn’t just a place for dancing or kids, but a community connecting people in a unique way? Now a cultural force, TikTok has even been invaded by psychedelics, specifically the microdosing movement. And I was there to see it unfold.
When people said I should join TikTok, I politely told everyone the same things you probably think right now. It was for kids, it was for dancing, it was too conservative for people like me mainly because I am the founder of a cannabis company. And of course, who needs another social media app in our already connected world? But during quarantine I (like many) eventually caved, and I found myself trying to make sense of an app that truly felt like another world.
At first, every word I tried to say was censored and I found myself unable to even post about my own business or much of anything outside my dog. I learned the sophistication level of TikTok’s algorithm is part of its beauty and design, and because it’s a Chinese-based company it is skilled at censorship. And don’t get me wrong, censorship is prevalent on all social media apps, but TikTok is inarguably the most strict.
Author Olivia Alexander’s viral microdosing TikTok that put her on the ‘FYP’ for the first time and connected her to a vibrant community.
As a cannabis social media influencer, I’ve dealt with my fair share of getting ‘deleted’ (when an app deletes your profile) and eventually lost 1.5 million followers on Instagram in 2017. On TikTok, I couldn’t find anything to talk about that was both authentic to me and interesting to the audience. Then one day I tried something new, I told my mental health story about being bipolar and how microdosing completely transformed my life. Given the level of censorship, I didn’t say or show much, just a photo series of myself along my journey. You could see the changes, the impact, and the joy in my face. That’s when it happened—I got my first taste of the FYP.
That’s the ‘For You Page’ in TikTok lingo. The app explains the FYP as “a curated feed of videos from creators you might not follow, but TikTok’s algorithm thinks you will like based on your interests and past interactions.” Once I made it to the FYP, I had my first bonafied ‘hit’ and two things were obvious: The first was that microdosing had slipped through the cracks of TikTok’s censorship algorithms, and the second was that the audience craved more.
It’s hard to describe what happens on TikTok when your video lands on the FYP. To be honest, in the past 15 years of being on social media, I have never seen or felt anything like it. The views, comments, and follows piled up—fast. I was in sheer disbelief that I had stumbled upon something that people wanted to know more about that also wasn’t censored by TikTok. In the months to come, I would be connected to a community I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams.
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Why Choose TikTok for Microdosing Info and Community?
The TikTok community, much like I was, is mentally ill, yet at the same time disillusioned by the mental health system; they’re also desperate for healing, while being courageous and hopeful. I was excited to tell my story—despite being a relative newcomer to psychedelics—I’m farther along on my microdose journey than most TikTokers, and I wanted to use this new, powerful platform to share what I’ve learned. Over the next few months I began to contribute pieces of short form content daily from ‘How I Got Off Pharmaceuticals’, to my viral recap of microdosing with LSD for 30 days, to my mother’s microdosing journey.
Was it that microdosing—the act of ingesting 1/10th to 1/20th of a psychedelic substance for enhanced mood rather than classic psychedelic effects—was so new or was it that the psychedelic movement had successfully evaded TikTok’s strict censorship policies?
If you saw the TikTok hashtag #microdosing, which had 60 million views until it was removed in mid-August, 2021, you probably witnessed the broad spectrum of people and their reasons for microdosing. TikTok is a place where people with authentic stories and interesting lives thrive; where you don’t need to be a celebrity to be an influencer, you can just be you. Mental health TikTokers regularly show off their meds, spill revelations from therapists, and share both their traumas and explorations in healing. Microdose TikTok heavily intersects with mental health, fitness, and wellness TikTok. Even with censorship of the microdosing hashtag, the community has continued to evolve and share microdosing content. In the world of ‘the Tok’, there’s an ever evolving lexicon created to skirt the app’s advancing censorship. So soon #microdos or #mycrodose will replace #microdosing like #ouid replaced #weed.
What you’ll find in certain communities of TikTok is that you are encouraged to be yourself, which is unlike other social media platforms where a more polished version of yourself is rewarded. The people who use and create content on TikTok—referred to as ‘creators’—are as unique as the algorithm itself. And unlike other social media apps, these creators can see a quick rise, thrusting them into the spotlight, allowing them to share their journey and experiences with thousands of people seemingly overnight.
One of the most beautiful things I have found at the intersection of microdosing and TikTok are the vibrant people who tell their stories. The bravery it takes to share your life online is often overlooked by people who don’t do it or look down on social media. It’s a compelling array of stories and personal experiences that could be such a benefit to the psychedelic and scientific communities, especially at a time when microdosing research is so desperately needed.
There’s something about TikTok’s design that makes you feel instantly seen, heard, and validated, and connects you with others in an authentic way. It’s why I believe the work of psychedelic and microdosing creators is so effective and special. Being seen and heard is an important and valuable part of the healing and integration process that’s built right into the platform.
The first person I ever saw cruising the FYP was Veronica Ridge, a hair stylist who shares her story of microdosing for ADHD with candid and endearing videos that her husband Patrick Ridge, also a well-known content creator with 16 years of sobriety, often joins. Veronica’s content about microdosing was endearing and approachable; even though she was microdosing for different reasons, seeing her content made me feel less alone. I was excited to see someone else normalizing microdosing.
Next I discovered TikTok’s microdosing mom (TikTok loves moms), Coach Kathleen who has over 130K followers. Coach Kathleen, a long time coach who focuses primarily on CEOs and executives, told me she went to TikTok after seeing the speed in which users go viral. Since then, she has garnered tens of millions of views on the app. In one of her largest videos, she explains how psilocybin affects the brain’s ‘default mode network’ that has a whopping 8 million views.
Coach Kathleen’s educational content and frequent ‘lives’ (specifically microdosing Q&A’s) are much needed support to the TikTok microdosing community. Live is another feature that drives authentic conversations and page growth for creators. It allows users to get to know creators on a much more intimate level. Creators who activate these features often see their communities blossom way beyond what they imagined their reach could be.
There are also athletes and coaches like CoachJeremy305, who has over 875K followers and who has been a long time fixture on the FYP page sharing how microdosing has aided in his fitness and wellness journey. He often encourages his audience to avoid alcohol and frequently posts psychedelic legislation updates.
Another creator, HolisticHustle, who calls herself “a crunchy mom with depression” has over 60K followers, shares her microdosing and parenthood journey. She focuses a fair amount of her content at the intersections of microdosing, motherhood, and healing her own generational trauma.
While some will write off TikTok as another social media app, I truly believe that would be doing a disservice to everyone. Believe it or not, TikTok has become a cultural mecca and there is so much to learn about people and community on this app. With the culmination of the mental health crisis, opioid epidemic, and of course the COVID-19 pandemic, people needed a virtual space where they feel safe to share, and TikTok has been the answer for a lot of people.
“TikTok has influenced my microdosing journey in the most positive way. Just following you and watching your lives has helped me tons!” Zenia, a 37-year-old mom of three kids who had resigned from her job to run an online business in order to spend more time with her children, tells Psychedelics Today. “Hearing how open and real you are about your journey and experiences made me want to do my own research and create experiences through my own journey.”
“It took me a while and lots of research to start my journey because it was such a new concept to me, but I’m glad I did!” Zenia continues. “I have really felt at home knowing that there is a huge community out there going through what I’m going through.”
This content is serving so much more than likes and views to the creator. It’s carrying microdosing to people who desperately need to know there are other alternatives, and giving them a place to share their microdosing experiences within a community. On TikTok, we see ourselves in the popular creators and feel hopeful for a new therapeutic tool, like microdosing. Plus, TikTokers, like many, are terrified to even speak to their doctors about psychedelics, but are completely out of traditional pharmaceutical options. So by finding community on TikTok, they find hope, access, and most of all, people just like them being transformed in a way they dreamed of for themselves.
“I discovered microdosing [on TikTok] in January of 2021. In the fall of 2020, after almost a year of unemployment and the utter failure of my romantic relationship (epic implosion), I decided it was time for me to go off of the anti-anxiety/anti-depression pill I’d been on for the past three years. By the end of the year I wanted to learn more about how I might holistically begin to heal myself and by chance, I saw a TikTok where you’d discussed your journey with mental health, pharmaceuticals and microdosing popped up and I thought the universe must have heard my heart because this was exactly what I was looking for,” Jen, a 38-year-old project manager from NY tells Psychedelics Today. “I went through all of the videos and consumed the information like a fire. I looked up the Microdosing Institute, reached out to Psychedelic.support, spoke to and described microdosing to my personal support circle of family and friends (and urged them to do their own research), found a support group online and based in my region and reached out on Instagram to find my own healer who could act as a guide. By February, I had all of the resources to begin my first journey and so I did at the end of March.”
Microdosing and TikTok Are the Future: Will the Psychedelic Community Join?
Over my time on TikTok I have been able to come to a unique understanding of the sheer magnitude and scale of the future surrounding the psychedelic space as an industry and the mental health crisis it will be meeting. I sit up late at night and worry about the time it will take for real progress and access for the countless people who endlessly direct message me for help. I feel hopeful for the clinical trials on psychedelics, for FDA approval of these drugs as medicine, and for the legalization of psychedelics because Gen Z and Millenials are not the generations of the past.
We want to be part of the future where entheogens are regulated and accessible. We want to appreciate, know, respect, and understand Indigenous practices. We wish we could talk to our therapists, psychiatrists, and psychologists about alternative treatments. We will fight for a future where universal health care covers psychedelic therapy. But for now, we are struggling with mental health—and with the COVID-19 pandemic, there’s new people arriving to the struggle everyday. We’re dealing with despair, isolation, and the side effects of antidepressants for the first time in a broken and overloaded system, and we need help wherever we can get it.
In the unlikeliest of places I have seen and felt a snapshot of humanity that was simply unexpected. A place built so perfectly imperfect, like humans themselves, that even with censorship and sophisticated algorithms alike it could not be stopped or suppress the needs of the people. And it’s my greatest hope that progress, unity, science, Indigenous and modern culture can coexist for the greatest success for all. In the race for the golden ticket of the burgeoning psychedelic industry, TikTok has shown me what’s really at stake—our mental health and wellbeing. I hope more clinicians, researchers, leaders, and companies in the space take on the challenge of joining the rest of the community.
The cultural storm and human need for psychedelics can’t be stopped or slowed down because of the sheer speed of social media, and the psychedelic community can do the important work during this digital age on an app where the impact can be truly astounding.
This next chapter of the psychedelic renaissance will not be televised, it will be on TikTok and I hope the psychedelic community will pay attention.
About the Illustrator
Martin Clarke is a British Designer and Illustrator from Nottingham, England. Specializing in branding, marketing and visual communication, Martin excels at creating bespoke brand identities and striking visual content across multiple platforms for web, social media, print and packaging. See more of his work here.
Understanding what spiritual emergence and spiritual emergency are, how they differ from psychosis, and how to integrate them as a psychedelic traveler or practitioner.
This is part of our ongoing series on transpersonal psychology and how it can help us understand psychedelic experiences. Check out part 1, ‘What is Transpersonal Psychology?’ here.
In recent years there has been a resurgence of interest in the therapeutic potentials of psychedelic substances within both clinical and non-clinical settings, with many seeking out psychedelics and plant medicines for spiritual purposes and attempts at self-healing. Psychedelics have the ability to catalyze immense shifts in our understanding and perceptions of reality as well as the potential to bring forth that which is latent within the psyche. Although the sudden eruption of psychic content or change in ways of seeing the world is at the core of psychedelic healing, it can be a destabilizing process that occasionally triggers a type of unintended psychological distress known as “spiritual emergency.”
Our new 12-month certificate program, Vital, begins April 19th. Registration is closed, but sign up for the waitlist for next year’s edition now at vitalpsychedelictraining.com!
What Is Spiritual Emergency?
The term “spiritual emergency” was introduced to the field of transpersonal psychology by psychiatrist Stanislav Grof and his late wife, psychotherapist Christina Grof, in the 1980s to refer to a kind of spiritual or transformative crisis in which an individual could move towards a greater state of integration and wholeness. In their groundbreaking book on the subject, Spiritual Emergency: When Personal Transformation Becomes a Crisis, the Grofs describe spiritual emergency as “both a crisis and an opportunity of rising to a new level of awareness.”
Intentionally constructed as a play on words, the term “emergency” indicates crisis, all the while containing within it the term “emergence”, pertaining to the process by which something becomes known or visible, implying that both—crisis and opportunity—can arise. The Grofs thus differentiate between a spiritual emergency and the more gradual, less disruptive process of spiritual emergence.
Compared with spiritual emergency, the process of spiritual emergence, sometimes referred to as ‘spiritual awakening’, consists of a slower, gentler unfoldment of psychospiritual energies that does not negatively affect an individual’s ability to function within the various domains of their life. Thus, spiritual emergence is a natural process of attuning to a more expanded state of awareness in which individuals generally feel a deeper sense of connection to themselves, others, and the world around them.
Conversely, cases of spiritual emergency usually share many characteristics with psychosis, and as such are often misunderstood and misdiagnosed. However, spiritual emergencies differ from psychosis in that they are not suggestive of long-term mental illness, and provide individuals with an opportunity to use their woundedness to go deeper into themselves and find healing.
The fact that the concept of spiritual emergency is not known and widely accepted beyond the context of transpersonal psychology is partially bound up with an age-old argument that has long permeated Western science and culture. In culture at large, spiritual and mystical-type experiences have long been ridiculed and pathologized, being considered delusional and reflective of mental illness. Dominated by materialist approaches to consciousness and mental health, Western science generally lumps spiritual crises together with psychosis, attributing their origins to biological or neurological dysfunction and treating them on the physical level. However, in the context of transpersonal psychology, spiritual experiences are considered to be real and integral to the evolutionary development of the individual.
Inherent to the Grofs’ concept of spiritual emergency is their holotropic model that revolves around the central tenet that we have an innate tendency to move towards wholeness, possessing within us an “inner healing intelligence.” Similar to the way the body starts its own sophisticated process of healing when we injure ourselves physically, the psyche possesses its own healing intelligence that takes place unseen within us. Just like fevers fighting off infections, spiritual crises can be understood as the psyche’s way of signalling that imbalance needs to be overcome as it moves toward a state of greater integration.
Although experiences of spiritual emergency are highly individual, they all share in the fact that the typical functioning of the ego is impaired, and the logical mind is overridden by the world of intuition. Scary and potentially traumatizing, spiritual emergencies can be interspersed with moments of fervent ecstasy in which an individual believes that they have special abilities to communicate with God or cosmic consciousness, giving way to a temporary messianic complex.
Conversely, a person might become possessed by a potent feeling of paranoia, feeling that the universe is conspiring against them, or they may feel detached from material reality, only connected to this realm through a fine, ephemeral thread. Happenings and material objects might become imbued with symbolic, other-worldly meaning. For some it means spirit possession, compulsive behaviors which lead them to forget to eat and sleep, or a soul-crushing sense of depression that makes them choose to isolate themselves from others.
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Spiritual Emergency Triggered By Psychedelics
Although states of spiritual crisis can come about spontaneously, they can be triggered by emotional stress, physical exertion, disease, near-death experiences, childbirth, meditative practice, and exposure to psychedelics, among other things.
Psychedelics, in particular, have the ability to trigger spiritual emergencies in that they rapidly propel a journeyer from one state of consciousness to another in a mere matter of hours. If an individual is not adequately prepared, these sudden encounters with the numinous can be incredibly destabilizing and have challenging, unintended impacts.
Furthermore, psychedelics can activate parts of the psyche, throwing us off balance by rapidly bringing forth material from the unconscious that we need to integrate. The Grofs expand on this further in their book, Stormy Search for the Self: A Guide to Personal Growth through Transformational Crisis, writing, “Occasionally, the amount of unconscious material that emerges from deep levels of the psyche can be so enormous that the person involved can have difficulty functioning in everyday reality.”
According to Kyle Buller, Co-Founder and Director of Education here at Psychedelics Today, M.S. in Clinical Mental Health, and certified Spiritual Emergence Coach, psychedelics and engaging in spiritual and contemplative practices can make individuals more prone to spiritual emergencies. “Psychedelics and plant medicines open us up to new ways of seeing the world, and this new way of being or seeing can be destabilizing for some,” he says.
Additionally, Buller explains that those with existing traumas or underlying mental health disorders are more at risk for spiritual emergency-type experiences. “I come back to Grof’s notion that psychedelics are ‘non-specific amplifiers of mental or psychic processes,’” he explains. “If someone is already dealing with a lot and difficult content is brought to the surface and amplified, they might not be able to contain it without a proper set and setting or support.”
In the context of psychedelics, spiritual crises can occur when there is an expansion of consciousness that happens without adequate containment. For that reason, most spiritual emergencies triggered by psychedelics don’t occur in the context of clinical studies, but rather through recreational use, self-exploration, and even ceremonial use. Arguably, within plant medicine ceremonies, there are clear parameters that contain the experience as it is unfolding, however, upon leaving the container of the ceremony, most individuals go back to their normal, everyday lives, and this shift can be challenging.
Research fellow at the Centre for the History of the Emotions at Queen Mary University of London, Jules Evans, detailed his experience of a psychedelic-induced spiritual emergency in his self-published, Holiday From the Self: An Accidental Ayahuasca Adventure. In Evans’ case, he went to the Peruvian Amazon to participate in an ayahuasca retreat.
Although Evans gave it careful consideration and had a positive experience at the retreat, once he began travelling back to Iquitos, he found himself feeling disconnected, and moreover disorientated. As the days passed by, an eerie and intense feeling of doubt around his sense of reality washed over him. In an article recounting his experience he writes, “When I got texts from loved ones, I thought my subconscious was constructing them. I felt profoundly alone in this fake reality.”
Evans had previously spent time studying ecstatic experiences academically, and was partially familiar with the concept of spiritual emergency, helping him to not “freak out.” However, for most of us, that isn’t the case and when spiritual crises start to unfold, not knowing what is happening can plunge us into a deep state of fear and terror.
Another reason why those who experiment with psychedelics are more prone to spiritual crises is the lack of cultural support. Buller places emphasis on the need for adequate cultural containers, suggesting that the fact that psychedelics and plant medicines are not accepted by dominant culture poses another hurdle for integrating these experiences.
“When a person has a profound experience, where do they turn or seek support? Does the cultural cosmology around them embrace these types of experiences and if not, how does that exacerbate one’s difficult experience?” Buller says.
In Western culture, we have lost the cultural frames and mythological maps that could usher us through intense experiences of psychospiritual opening, a process which we need to go through at times. Reflecting on this subject in a 2008 paper, medical anthropologist Sara Lewis, explored how Westerners are at increased risk for experiencing spiritual crises and psychological distress following ayahuasca ceremonies due to what she describes as a “lack of cultural support.”
Spiritual crises have been suggested to resemble instances of ‘shamanic illness’ as experienced by shamanic initiates in certain Indigenous cultures. Compared with those in Indigenous communities, however, Westerners lack community resources and guidance to contextualize experiences produced by psychedelic plant medicines, and often fear becoming mentally ill as a result.
Distinguishing Between Psychosis and Spiritual Emergency
The Grofs suggest in their book, Spiritual Emergency, that mainstream psychiatry and psychology make no distinction between mystical states and mental illness, tending to treat non-ordinary states with suppressive medication rather than recognizing their healing potentials.
For psychedelic practitioners and integration providers working with those experiencing psychological distress after a psychedelic experience, evaluating whether the individual is a danger to themselves and others, and determining personal or family history of mental health disorders can be incredibly helpful in understanding whether the phenomenon is a psychotic break or a spiritual crisis. An additional indicator is understanding how a given individual relates to their spirituality, ascertaining whether it brings them a sense of hope. Further, it is useful to rule out any form of neurologic or physical disorder that would impair normal mental functioning such as an infection, tumor, or uremia.
Another crucial factor is the client’s ability to understand the phenomenon as an unfolding psychological process that they can navigate internally as well as cooperatively with the mental health provider, being able to differentiate to a substantial degree between their internal experience and consensus reality.
In a 1986 paper on the subject, the Grofs caution, “It is important to emphasize that not every experience of unusual states of consciousness and intense perceptual, emotional, cognitive, and psychosomatic changes falls into the category of spiritual emergency.” Further highlighting that the concept of spiritual crisis is not intended to counter traditional psychiatry, but rather offer an alternative to those who are able to benefit from it.
Thus mental health practitioners looking to learn how to distinguish between spiritual emergency and psychosis must learn there is a fine line between the two which often makes it difficult to discern. While there is a tendency for traditional psychiatry to pathologize mystical states, the Grofs jointly warn of the dangers of “spiritualizing psychotic states”, placing emphasis on the need to use proper discernment around a given individual’s experience.
Speaking to the subject, Buller offers advice, “I would encourage a combination of open-mindedness and critical thinking. For many mental health professionals, this concept is going to push against most of our training, however, we need an open mind to explore this area and do our best to listen to the experiencer.”
In a culture where spiritual issues are not easily understood, spiritual crises can be incredibly isolating and shameful in that the person undergoing them feels that they cannot open up and share about their experience with others for fear of being labeled as “crazy.”
Reflecting on people’s reluctance to share about these types of challenges, Buller offers, “I think this highlights some distrust in the current system around these types of experiences.” He adds, “It also makes me wonder how many people may be struggling with difficult experiences and aren’t reaching out for help because of fearing what might happen if they disclose their experience to a mental health professional.”
For those undergoing a spiritual emergency, it can feel comforting to know that they are not alone in their struggle, and that many other people have been through similarly challenging experiences. It is also helpful to remember that the crisis is part of the healing process, and that it too will pass.
One resource is the Spiritual Emergence Network (SEN), founded by Christina Grof in 1980, or its global sister project, the International Spiritual Emergence Network (ISEN) which provides practical advice for navigating spiritual emergency as well as offering a specialized mental health referral and support service for those seeking help. Additionally, for those merely looking to learn more about the subject, Psychedelics Today offers a free webinar called, “Spiritual Emergence or Psychosis,” which explores some of the research around psychosis and spiritual emergence.
When experiencing a spiritual emergency as a result of psychedelic use, it is important to factor in set, setting, and integration, just as one would factor those components into an intentional psychedelic trip in the first place. In terms of ‘setting,’ the person experiencing the spiritual crisis should seek out a non-judgemental space in which they feel safe and supported—whether that be with a mental health practitioner or in the hands of family and friends.
Beyond the environment, ‘set’ refers to our mindset and the way we frame the experience. Because there is a conceivable amount of stigma surrounding spirituality, cultivating one’s mindset means understanding that there is nothing ‘wrong’ with the person experiencing a spiritual emergency, and that the difficulty may very well be a crucial stepping stone on their personal path to healing.
Lastly, meaning-making in the context of psychedelic integration is of paramount importance as it allows individuals to take the crucial step of transforming negative experiences into something of value, which could take anywhere from a couple of months to the rest of their lives.
When working with someone experiencing a spiritual emergency, it is important to take a destigmatizing and non-pathologizing approach. Recognizing this, Stanley Krippner, psychologist and parapsychologist, wrote in a 2012 paper, “The naming process is one of the most important components of healing.” As such, mental health practitioners working with those experiencing psychological distress after a psychedelic experience need to be mindful in how they frame what is happening.
Spiritual Emergency Beyond the Scope of Transpersonal Psychology
While the Grofs’ concept of spiritual emergency was undoubtedly ahead of its time, there is still room for growth and maturation, and some suggest it may be helpful to use different terminology around the concept.
David Lukoff, professor of psychology at Sofia University and licensed psychologist specializing in the treatment of religious and spiritual crises, was influenced by the Grofs’ concept of spiritual emergency early on in his career, and has partially used the concept to inform his work in co-authoring new diagnostic category of “Religious or Spiritual Problem” included in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) 4 and DSM-5.
Lukoff suggests that although the term spiritual emergency, which is well-known in transpersonal psychology, is not used or necessarily accepted in mainstream circles, spiritual and religious issues are now becoming understood through different terminology.
“I think Stan and Christina nailed the concept, but as soon as you use the term ‘emergency’ in the healthcare field, it implies the worst case scenario in which a person might need hospitalization,” Lukoff tells Psychedelics Today. “The more neutral term ‘problem’ is now used within psychiatry as a result of the DSM category that I helped author, and the term ‘struggle’ is now used within psychology.”
Further, Lukoff emphasizes that he has seen a major shift, even though it is still a minority, in psychology and psychiatry programs on the coverage of religion and spirituality. “I know that the transpersonal world doesn’t always pick up on this, but there is a real renaissance within the healthcare field in which more attention is being heeded to religious and spiritual strengths as well as problems and struggles,” he says.
“There are definitely times when spiritual issues can become crises or conflicts, however, it is also true that for the majority of people their religion and their spirituality are sources of strength, more often associated with positive coping,” shares Lukoff.
In his early 20s, Lukoff experienced his own LSD-induced spiritual crisis in which he believed that he was a reincarnation of Buddha and Jesus, manifested in his present form to unite the peoples of the world. In part, Lukoff attributes his career trajectory as a clinical psychologist and professor of psychology to the psychosis-like transformational crisis he experienced early on.
Reflecting on his own psychedelic-induced spiritual crisis, Lukoff offers the view that careful preparation goes a long way in being able to mitigate the potential negative effects of psychedelics. Even so, it is important not to trivialize or reduce psychedelic-induced spiritual crises to conjectures about “bad trips.” Spiritual crises need not merely be the product of challenging psychedelic experiences as they can be similarly triggered by potent positive experiences.
Spiritual Crisis and The Future of Psychedelic Healing
Psychedelic healing is not linear. It is not as simple as popping a pill and being miraculously cured. Rather, it is a messy process which sometimes involves psychospiritual distress that is integral to the healing process. As medical and mainstream interest in psychedelic substances continues to expand, and more and more people have these kinds of experiences, it is imperative that psychedelic practitioners develop literacy around the concept of spiritual crisis, as well as develop frameworks to help individuals contextualize their challenging experiences.
With increased awareness and use of psychedelics, are practitioners ready to deal with some of the transpersonal experiences that clients will bring to them? Buller emphasizes the need for diverse and nuanced perspectives as we move forward into the psychedelic renaissance.
“While I appreciate the trauma focus and narrative in psychedelic research, I worry that we might end up reducing everything down to psychological terminology, discrediting a person’s experience,” he shares. “What happens when someone has an entity encounter in a psychedelic experience? Do we just reduce that experience down to a possible traumatic event in someone’s life or write it off as unreal because we have a mechanistic understanding of what that experience is?”
Moving towards the future, it is important to remain open-minded, and take holistic approaches that interweave multiple narrative frameworks, including that of transpersonal psychology, through which people can understand and make meaning of their experiences, including the potential for spiritual emergencies and their transformational—yet difficult—outcomes.
Psychedelic VR—or virtual reality claiming to give users a psychedelic trip—is here, but is there any truth to the claims? And theoretically, how would it work?
A few years ago I took five grams of psilocybin mushrooms and went to the E3 video game expo in Los Angeles only to be lost in a world of virtual reality. It’s not something I would suggest for everyone, unless you want to spend the rest of the day wondering if cosplayers are just regular people from the future.
There’s an untethered prism of technological potential that has been emerging from VR in the past decade. However, you’re reading this because you want to know if a person can have a psychedelic trip while in VR. The short answer is ‘no,’ and any VR company that makes these claims is not being truthful. The long answer is—definitely not right now, but the more neuroscience and technology advances, the closer we will come to having a psychedelic trip exclusively in virtual reality. I’ll explain one of those ways, but first how did we get this far with virtual reality?
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A Brief Rundown on the History of VR
Let’s get the definitions straight. Virtual Reality (VR) is the complete immersion within an artificial world usually through a headset. Augmented Reality (AR) is the addition of virtual components to reality, like an email notification that appears in your vision, usually through glasses. Mixed Reality (MR) is the combination of VR and AR that brings together the digital and real world. An example would be a real-world object that is QR-coded so a person can see a virtual image emerging from the object when wearing mixed-reality glasses. Microsoft HoloLens is pioneering this technology. Finally, there’s Extended Reality (XR) that’s a blanket term that combines VR, AR, and MR.
When was Extended Reality invented? The history is debatable—was it the Ancient Greeks that constructed theaters and used the science of acoustics to mimic reality on stage, or should we go back to cave dwellers and their ‘subterranean cyberspaces’ they crafted filled with imagery that replicated the outside world? Let’s skip a few centuries, past Sir Charles Wheatstone’s 19th century stereoscope and Ivan Sutherland’s ‘Sword of Damocles’ machine of the 1960s, and go straight to Thomas Furness’ VCASS (that is, Visually Coupled Airborne Systems Simulator) built in 1982. It was astronomically expensive, and the technology alone filled up several rooms with computers. However, it was the first VR headset to fully immerse the user in an interactive artificially-manufactured world.
Aside from a few Hollywood films like “Lawnmower Man” and “Johnny Mnemonic” in the early ‘90s, VR didn’t really explode into mainstream culture like it was intended to. By 1999, the VR industry was deceased. Not like it laughed itself to death, but the world laughed the technology out of existence. It would take another decade and a 17-year-old named Palmer Luckey to invent the Oculus Rift, the current standard for virtual reality. Now, every VR headset available on the market is built on Luckey’s binocular LCD innovation.
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The Neuroscience of Psychedelic VR
You’re a virtual reality history buff now, so let’s talk about the capabilities of the technology and why all claims that it can induce a psychedelic trip are misleading and erroneous—if not outright lies.
Currently, the only way we know a psychedelic trip can happen is through direct interaction with 5-HT2A neural receptors. When a person ingests psychedelics, those substances sit in these receptors. The molecular neuroscience of this process is largely unknown, and psychedelics can also induce other neurological changes like thalamic afferents and shifting cerebral blood flow between cortical regions. We’re still trying to understand why this happens, but the one consistent occurrence is the excitement of the 5-HT2A receptors in the brain.
That should be the end of the story, but you guys want to dive deeper in the rabbit hole—so let’s do it.
I spoke with neuropharmacologist and founder of Psychedelic Support, Dr. Alli Feduccia, about the possibility of inducing a psychedelic trip exclusively through VR—without the interaction of 5-HT2A receptors. She said while it’s highly unlikely, it’s theoretically possible through what’s called ‘neural oscillations.’
Neuroscience discovered some neurons and even entire regions can be activated through neural oscillations, which is the synchronization of activity in certain regions of the brain. For example, when a person speaks you understand them better when you look at their face to receive visual information (happiness, sadness, etc.), which aids the auditory information (what they’re actually saying) that’s being processed in your brain. Those two sensory inputs (auditory speech and visual facial cues) are coupled as a neural oscillation.
It’s been proposed that oscillations also reflect changes in the excitement of neurons from these sensory inputs. Excitement from these neural oscillations mostly show dendritic synaptic activity in the brain—the place where serotonin receptors reside. The synaptic activity seen through this neural oscillation is a ‘ping-pong’ effect bouncing between pyramidal cells (the brain cells that process serotonin) and inhibitory interneurons (neurons that assist the activity of pyramidal cells). Theoretically if any extended reality device can create a collection of sensory inputs (visual, auditory) and vestibular inputs (balance, direction) to create a ‘transient evoked’ (a response to discrete stimuli) or a ‘steady-state evoked’ (response to periodic rhythmic stimuli) neural oscillation that would be strong and complex enough to excite certain brain regions responsible for psychedelic trips like the medial prefrontal cortex—then we would be able to see technology like VR induce a psychedelic trip.
All of this sounds like it’s possible only because I explained it to be understood. In reality, neural oscillations from an exogenous stimuli like VR that would activate a cortical region like the prefrontal cortex to excite the 5-HT2A receptors and induce a trip is a scientific and technological process that hasn’t been invented yet. In fact, we aren’t close to having even the fundamental understanding of these systems to begin the research and development of technology that would be capable of doing this. It would be like creating the Deathstar and all the technology inside entirely from cardboard. Oh, that’s happened already? Well I take that back.
When I spoke with @Trippy, the largest psychedelic community in the world (1.7 million followers and counting), about the potential of creating a psychedelic trip through technology, the curator said,“It’s impossible to deliver or duplicate an authentic psychedelic experience utilizing only technology. Humanity finds a sense of comfort in believing we can quantify or recreate all things. We have an unending desire to control things outside our understanding.”
The long and short of it is, there are a lot of VR companies out there that want you to believe they have invented a way to have a psychedelic trip through digital means. This could be the result of overzealous writers dropping extraordinary headlines and less about the CEOs of the VR companies that are represented. Everyone wants a good story, especially when you’re in the market of garnering investor interest for a capital raise.
A company that was brought to my attention is the Los Angeles-based VR company TRIPP (not to be confused with @trippy). Judging by the name one would easily believe the company is rooted in the psychedelic experience. Even their site suggests that for only $19.99 you can “start TRIPPing”. When I reached out to the company with a few questions (the first being, “Why do you think TRIPP works?”) the PR department sent me this:
“TRIPP does not elicit a psychedelic experience, nor does it act as/mimic a serotonergic agonist. TRIPP is simply a digital tool to help you manage stress and your emotional well-being. We don’t make claims on therapeutic efficacy.”
Certainly not the response many were hoping for—considering in June 2021, CEO of TRIPP Nanea Reeves told TechCrunch: “Many people that will never feel comfortable taking a psychedelic, this is a low-friction alternative that can deliver some of that experience in a more benign way.”
We’re not picking on TRIPP, there are far more dubious claims from individuals that suggest they have the technology to put the brain in altered states. Right around the VR craze in the mid ‘90s, Stanley Koren came out with the ‘God Helmet,’ a device that claims it can give the wearer a feeling of otherness, similar to the subjective effects of DMT and ayahuasca.
Through oscillations of low magnetic fields, the God Helmet allegedly disrupts the communication between the left and right brain lobes, which gives a person the perception of another ‘godly’ presence. There’s only one problem: No one has fully been able to replicate Stanley Koren’s claims with their own God Helmet study.
None of this is meant to degrade VR’s therapeutic use, which has been proven in clinical studies. For instance, Hunter G. Hoffman’s 2004 ‘Snowworld VR’ study showed patients can withstand pain longer in a tranquil virtual environment, the first evidence in history that VR changes brain activity during painful procedures.
VR is not an alternative that can deliver a psychedelic experience. If there’s one thing from this article to take away, it’s that. In the future, however, this statement has the possibility of turning around, and judging by the advancements in neuroscience along with an array of psychedelic research being unraveled, it will most likely be untrue. But for now, we’re still a long way to go before VR will give you a psychedelic trip.
Everything you need to know about Carl Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious and how it can help us process, navigate and guide psychedelic journeys.
This is part of our column ‘Psychedelics in Depth‘ which defines and explains depth psychology topics in the context of psychedelics.
A boundless sea rises to engulf the land. A solitary ship floats delicately on its churning surface. On the boat there are two figures, rapidly bailing out water from the deck, while a pair of animals look nervously over the edge. Out of the water bursts forth a massive tree, lifting up the boat in one of its thousand limbs, rescuing the people and the animals from the murky abyss below. The moon blocks out the sun, an eagle soars across the sky, and all falls into darkness…
Dream, psychedelic vision, or ancient myth? Can you tell the difference?
If you answered no, that’s because this outlandish sequence of events cannot possibly be based in objective reality, and therefore must be subject to interpretation. Who’s to say what any of it means—for now it remains a tapestry of evocative images containing infinite avenues where we might create meaning.Perhaps only the dreamer, journeyer, or culture of origin is truly capable of this, since an image’s deeper meaning can only become clear when its context is provided.
What is clear, however, is that the images which emerge in dreams, psychedelic states, and myths share themes in common, which is a foundational principle of depth psychology.
While the patterns or images themselves might be considered ‘archetypes,’ the question of where they come from is our main concern in this article.
Did that story above seem somehow familiar? Did it remind you of other stories you’ve heard before, once upon a time? Jung and other depth psychologists would likely say that they emerged out of the ‘collective unconscious,’a foundational concept in depth psychology.
The idea of the collective unconscious is perhaps one of the most unique and enduring concepts of Jungian and depth psychology. The very question of its existence caused the never-healed split between Freud and Jung, which marked one of the most significant moments in the history of psychology.
To embrace the reality of this mysterious, timeless realm is to embrace the notion that there are indeed regions of consciousness that we cannot, and will not, understand by our usual ways of knowing.
In this regard, the collective unconscious opens the way to the unknown, which psychedelics can, gracefully or otherwise, escort us into closer communion with. It could even be said that modern Western culture’s long standing fear and stigmatization of plant medicine, psychedelics and altered states of consciousness is an intense fear of the unknown projected onto the plant, pill or powder in question.
Psychedelics can ferry us across the river into the storehouse of repressed human experiences that modern culture has sought to obscure, dilute, or completely ignore. This can look like vivid encounters with death, powerful reminders of humility or sobering wake-up calls that break us out of whatever psychological trance state we all seem to occasionally fall into.
Despite all of our technology and scientific discoveries, to this day the collective unconscious remains as mysterious as the dark side of the moon.
What Is the Collective Unconscious?
According to Jung in his Collected Works, Volume 8, the terrain of the collective unconscious “contains the whole spiritual heritage of mankind’s evolution, born anew in the brain structure of every individual,” and can seem “something like an unceasing stream or perhaps ocean of images and figures which drift into consciousness in our dreams or in abnormal states of mind.”
In other words, the collective unconscious is a universal aspect of the human experience—something akin to a genetic heritage of the psyche, composed of primordial images and which express themselves symbolically through dreams and myths across time and space.
In his later writings, Jung used the term‘objective psyche’to refer to the collective unconscious because of a refinement in his thinking and a desire to steer his work away from focusing on overtly social phenomena like collective projection or groupthink. While this was a facet of Jung’s work, the true scope of the collective unconscious far surpasses this domain.
Additionally, there exists the personal unconscious and the collective unconscious, the difference of which is important to understand and explore.
The personal unconscious contains all of the unique aspects of your personality and psyche which have been repressed, such as difficult memories, traumas, and behaviors you’re not even aware of. The personal shadow, according to Jung, is composed of all the aspects of your personality which fail to neatly conform to your ego’s idea of who you are, which is called your ‘persona’. Unless these shadow aspects are consciously faced and integrated (often called ‘shadow work’), they inevitably tend to be projected outward. But more on that another time.
The collective unconscious is a different beast entirely, and refers to regions of the psyche far beyond the personal repressed material described above. Nearly all of Jung’s most evocative concepts, such as complexes, archetypes, anima/animus, and shadow arise from or are connected to the collective unconscious. By its very nature, the collective unconscious is unknowable and imperceivable to us by our usual methods of perception.
Over the course of his life and work, Jung postulated different ideas as to what this infinite realm might be and what its purpose could be for humanity. His work contained within The Red Book expresses his personal journey of delving into his own uncharted depths through cryptic prose and evocative, semi-religious artwork.
What is clear is that the collective unconscious remains an elusive concept, and that any discussion of it requires a healthy dose of mystery and wonder. Because it is ineffable and eludes full definition, the collective unconscious remains something beyond our ability to fully control, manipulate, and know—actions which, from a depth perspective, all emerge from the ego. And perhaps it should remain so.
“Psychedelic substances don’t cause specific psychological effects. Although they increase energy levels that activate psychological processes, which allows one to consciously experience otherwise unconscious content, they don’t give rise to specific experiences or content. The content that arises from the unconscious during a psychedelic session, like the content that arises in a dream during sleep, is what is available in the unconscious at the time. What emerges can naturally vary, then from session to session for each person, and can certainly vary from person to person.”
Psychedelics cause a “lowering of the threshold of consciousness,” according to Jung, meaning that they bring one into closer contact with the unconscious. Another way of looking at it is that unconscious material bubbles up to the surface during altered states of consciousness, leading to the vast array of reactions that psychedelics are known to evoke. From this perspective, the unconscious material rising to the surface is emerging both from the personal and the collective unconscious.
The ego has a hard time believing that anything could be beyond its realm of knowledge and control. Experiences of fear, which can often infuse the onset or peak of psychedelic experiences, can be seen as the ego’s response to losing its grip on psychic control. As we plunge ever more deeply into the waters of the unconscious, fear is the ego’s alarm system, signaling that it’s well-maintained boat appears to be going down. Yet this descent, as we know from some of the world’s oldests myths and ceremonial traditions, is where real transformation begins, and as any psychedelic guide worth their salt will tell you, the best course of action at this point is to surrender, breathe, and go within.
What actually happens within the psyche while immersed in a powerful psychedelic experience can be interpreted from a variety of perspectives, as decades of psychedelic literature and multidisciplinary studies demonstrate. But like most great mysteries, psychedelics create more questions than they can possibly answer.
From a depth perspective, however, one could say that psychedelics catalyze the emergence of previously repressed psychic material which arises from both the personal and the collective unconscious —a sentiment expressed by many before. Stanislav Grof deemed psychedelics ‘abreactives,’ meaning that they bring to consciousness whatever material which has the most emotional charge.
Because psychedelics can open one’s psyche to experience aspects of the collective unconscious, various archetypes, images, complexes, and energies can be personally experienced, leading to profound moments of catharsis, healing, insight, and what Jung called, ‘numinosity’: overwhelming feelings that burst forth when one is confronted with the power of transpersonal images, archetypes, and experiences. In other words, a full-blown mystical experience.
The implications of understanding the psychedelic experience through a depth psychological lens cannot be overstated, and helps us better understand what Grof meant in his famous axiom: “Psychedelics are to the study of the mind what the telescope is for astronomy and the microscope is for biology.”
The Collective Unconscious and Psychedelics For Psychedelic Facilitators
If you are a psychedelic therapist or facilitator seeking to integrate a depth psychological approach into your practice, it is important to never overlook the significance of the unconscious and the critical role that it plays in psychedelic work. This means expecting the unexpected, listening for the deeper, unconscious threads in a client’s process, and always approaching this work from a place of humility and caution. One could say that the essential function of psychedelic therapy, from the beginning of preparation, through the dosing session, to post-trip integration sessions, is essentially one long process of integrating material from the personal and the collective unconscious.
Depth psychology will inevitably require you to learn to speak two languages at once, as you keep one foot grounded in the world of ego consciousness, persona, and outer objective facts, while maintaining another firmly rooted in the world of symbol, metaphor, myth, and subjectivity. Becoming literate in this dream language takes time, practice, and a dedication to your own inner work as well.
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It’s important to remember this challenging stance requires letting go of dogmatic perspectives, beliefs and certainties, as well as cultivating a certain level of humility and openness. Never forget that each time your client is venturing into psychedelic space, they are venturing into the unknown. The role of the guide or psychedelic therapist is to be a light along the way, to clear the path as much as possible, and to point the journeyer in the right direction as they bravely step into their own star-lit darkness.
The enduring message of depth psychology, however, is that those stars, and that darkness, are not yours alone. The inner world is not an empty void of nothing, but a fertile space utterly saturated with meaning, the comprehension of which can take a lifetime. The collective unconscious belongs to the collective heritage of humanity, is passed down to us in myth over countless millennia, and is remembered in our dreams and visions.
Perhaps this is what Joseph Campbell meant when he famously said, “And where you had thought to be alone, you shall be with all the world.”
About the Author
Simon Yugler is a depth and psychedelic integration therapist based in Portland, OR with a masters (MA) in depth counseling psychology from Pacifica Graduate Institute. Weaving Jungian psychology, Internal Family Systems therapy, and mythology, Simon also draws on his diverse experiences learning from indigenous cultures around the world, including the Shipibo ayahuasca tradition. He has a background in experiential education, and has led immersive international journeys for young adults across 10 countries. He is passionate about initiation, men’s work, indigenous rights, decolonization, and helping his clients explore the liminal wilds of the soul. Find out more on his website and on Instagram , Twitter (@depth_medicine) or Facebook.
About the Illustrator
Martin Clarke is a British Designer and Illustrator from Nottingham, England. Specializing in branding, marketing and visual communication, Martin excels at creating bespoke brand identities and striking visual content across multiple platforms for web, social media, print and packaging. See more of his work here.
Raising children requires a lot of patience, compassion and energy, which is why parents like me turn to microdoses of LSD.
My introduction to LSD happened in 1997 at Penn State University. Phish’s Lawn Boy CD acted as the soundtrack and de facto tour guide for that trip. It was such a fantastic experience that I crammed seeing dozens of Phish concerts on psychedelics into my college curriculum. The acid ignited my senses and soothed my soul; worries about my future and body fat percentage faded and I could live in the moment; one with the music. Then late one night in 2004 atop a muddy mountain in Coventry, Vermont, Phish momentarily ended and a new era of my life began.
I met a man. We fell in love. Swept up in the fairytale romance, I was blissfully unaware that my freewheeling, psychedelically enhanced Phish festival days were being replaced with the crushing realities of juggling a job with family life and childcare concerns. For years I feared that I would never find balance without making myself—or my husband and kids—miserable. Luckily Phish and LSD still play an important role in improving my life, though in much smaller doses. So how does a modern mom—between work, cheer practice, swimming lessons, and PTA meetings—find time to start microdosing lysergic acid diethylamide?
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How Does One Become a Microdosing Mom?
In 2009, I was too busy working long hours at a weekly tabloid magazine, planning my wedding, and buying a house to care that Phish reunited. During the next few years, life changed so rapidly in such a short amount of time that I lost sight of my own needs and could feel the light inside me dimming. I got married in October and was pregnant by Christmas. Those were happy days, but just a week before my daughter’s first birthday (and the day before my own birthday) my father died undergoing heart surgery.
The day after his funeral, I dropped my one-year-old off at my mother-in-law’s house in an utter haze before heading to my first day of work at a brand-new celebrity weekly magazine. Quietly sobbing in a bathroom stall during lunch and panic attacks before editorial pitch meetings became my normal routine, while everyone I loved told me that the demands of the job would be the best way for me to get through my grief. I wanted to believe them. Instead, I felt sadder and meaner to those closest to me as they reminded me that I was no different or special than any other working mother. My doctor gave me a lecture on my weight gain and a Prozac prescription.
For years, I self-medicated with too much cannabis and wine and popped Prozac. I quit it all to get pregnant again. My second daughter was delivered in distress at 31 weeks. She weighed just two pounds. I was too scared to celebrate her birth and fell deeper into depression. Today she’s a strong-willed, fearless five-year-old and I love her more than words can express. The entire NICU experience left me with severe PTSD, which I had no time to truly treat because I had to get back to my magazine job. I spent just two hours a weekday with my girls and half that time I couldn’t wait to put them to bed because I was too mentally drained and depressed to find any joy in the motherhood journey.
When I got laid off a year later, I felt relief for a brief moment before the anxiety, despair, and depression of not having a steady income crept back into my brain. Of course, there is no time to properly deal with those feelings when you’ve got a teething toddler and curious kindergartner. I desperately wanted to be a better mom, but some days all I could do was prop them up with snacks and the Disney channel and weep silently in the next room. I know I’m not the only parent that experiences this.
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Could Parenting and Psychedelics Go Hand in Hand?
“When you’re a trauma survivor, you think you’ve healed and then you have children and they just push you into your shit,” Pepper Wolfe, a New York-based yoga therapist and wellness coach tells Psychedelics Today. “After my first was born I was struggling with postpartum [depression] and then my mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She died when I was six months pregnant with my second and I could not snap out of it. No amount of meditation, yoga, talk therapy, or breathwork made me feel better. I was hitting a wall, not getting better.”
While Wolfe, who is also a licensed social worker, recalls feeling short-fused and super-triggered by normal childhood things, like tantrums and messy meals, I flashback to my own experiences with my young daughters. “I fell apart and was not the mom I wanted to be,” Wolfe tells me. Her dark days could be my dark days. And then, while cleaning her basement she found a long-forgotten stash of magic mushrooms. She took them. “And it was powerfully transformative in my perspective, my reactivity, my patience, and how I felt my body,” says Wolfe. “It was like the lightness came back.”
While that was a full-on trip, Wolfe says that she has since learned how to use psychedelics “in a more disciplined, formal way,” which has helped her to be a better parent by healing her past wounds. “I found that things that I had been working on for years in talk therapies, these issues were just clearing up, these blocks were being removed, and I was having new insights.”
Curiosity got the best of me once I noticed microdosing being discussed as a sort-of-Hail-Mary-miracle in my Phish-loving parents’ social media group. I recalled the bliss of tripping at a show immersed in the sounds and lights and energy. Though I have no desire to melt my face off and then attempt to make patty melts for family dinner, I did wonder if microdosing could be the key to calming my short-fuse and lack of patience for the nitty-gritty of parenting.
I am still in awe of the fact that a tiny bit of LSD helps me to be the mother I’ve always imagined I’d be. I can’t say the same for Prozac.
Obviously, taking a do-it-yourself-at-home approach to dabbling in psychedelics is not for everyone. I’ve used cocaine in conjunction with Weight Watchers to lose 100 lbs., so I may be a little crazy, but I’m also open to experimentation for the sake of self-improvement. That’s how I ended up asking a friend to “get me some Lucy.” I skipped the shrooms and went right for the chemical because I have never been a big fan of psilocybin—it gives me intestinal distress, that is, if I could even chock them down, which for me, is a bad way to begin a trip. Plus, I’ve always preferred the smooth climb to the peak and comedown cycle of an acid trip as opposed to the continuous up and down sensations I experience on psilocybin-containing mushrooms.
A Microdose Experiment
My friend showed up with a little, inconspicuous bottle and said, “This is such a small amount, I can’t charge you.” He left with a carton of eggs from our backyard flock. I stood, alone, in my kitchen looking at that tiny drop encased in amber glass. No one was home; I had hours alone ahead of me. I thought back to that night at Penn State and all of the Phish shows where I felt carefree. Yearning to feel some iota of that joy again, I touched the tip of the dropper to my tongue. Must be a microdose, right?
Twenty minutes later I was at the grocery store, giggling about cheese names and wandering around the glossy stacks of apples and pears in produce. I patiently waited with a smile on my face to pay for the manchego. Back home the living room curtains rippled and dewdrops glistened like chunky metallic glitter on each blade of grass in the backyard. Giggling uncontrollably, I realized this might be more than a microdose.
An acid trip can last anywhere from eight to 12 hours on average. When my husband walked in, I informed him of my microdosing misjudgment. We laughed and he promised to get the kids off the school bus and handle homework duty. I asked Alexa to “play Phish songs” and danced while dusting the house, enjoying the burst of energy. As the sun set on that evening, I began to come down but still had energy to run around the backyard helping my girls catch and release fireflies. I felt genuinely connected to them for the first time in as long as I can remember.
Brad Smith* had a similar experience. The father of two tells me that microdosing LSD “continues to bring me to a more open and understanding place in my daily life, which includes dealing with my two toddler boys. Empathizing with a struggle they are enduring that I would have considered trivial previously, has helped me to better communicate and provide for them.”
Remember, the whole point of microdosing for me was to get mentally healthy and happier without actually hallucinating. Since that day, I’ve learned 10 micrograms works best for my body—I spent a week experimenting while my daughters were on vacation at their grandma’s farmhouse. And I can honestly say that microdosing has made me a better parent by easing my depression and making me more approachable. Plus, I’m more active, aware, and available to my girls both emotionally and physically. I delight in playing games and crafting with them and even have the energy to race around the backyard playing Freeze Tag. I am still in awe of the fact that a tiny bit of LSD helps me to be the mother I’ve always imagined I’d be. I can’t say the same for Prozac.
What The Experts and Other Microdosing Parents are Saying
Much like my own experience misjudging a microdose, it’s a common occurrence. Adam Bramlage, who hosts a microdosing course for DoubleBlind Mag and is the Founder and CEO of Flow State Micro, explains to me that the very first thing a person needs to do is dial in their dosage. “It’s important to remember that a very small amount of LSD—especially in liquid or even paper form—can be very, very strong,” says Bramlage. “It is important for parents to start low and go slow—that’s somewhere between 5 or 10 micrograms. Once they find the ‘sweet spot,’ which is the dose that they feel but doesn’t have that classic psychedelic effect, they can experiment with protocols.”
Bramlage recommends microdosing a few days in a row to properly start the process. The Stamets protocol—either five days on and two days off or four days on and three days off—is a popular approach. For beginners, Bramlage usually recommends the Microdosing Institute protocol, which is one day on and one day off. He says, “There is a 48-hour effect to psychedelics, even in small doses. We call it the afterglow or the halo effect. If starting specifically with LSD, which can be considerably stronger than psilocybin in small doses, the user wants to make sure they have the right dose; having the day off will let them see how it’s affecting them.”
According to Bramlage, the Fadiman protocol, which is one day on and two days off, is “a great one for parents because again you’re getting the day off, which is the afterglow, and then the second day off, you’re getting back to baseline so you can notice a difference.”
He speaks from experience. As a single dad with shared custody of a 7-year-old daughter and a 12-year-old son, Bramlage says that microdosing LSD “helps increase my energy and stamina throughout the day. It seems to block that default grumpy old man that overreacts to the spilled milk. It puts you in a flow state and when you’re more in the moment and not thinking about other things you can be more present. It allows people to live in the moment instead of worrying about the future or ruminating over the past.” Who couldn’t benefit from that?
Wolfe says she has a lot of friends that “microdose on LSD and are having a lot of peak experiences, flow states, and great work performances. And I just kept thinking, ‘I just want to be a better parent. I want the generational trauma to stop with me. I don’t want to make my wounds their wounds.’ And for me, that’s what psychedelics did.”
Microdosing for Parents: Not a Miracle Cure for Everyone
Of course, microdosing doesn’t work for every parent. Oregon mother of five, Ashleigh Stevenson*, didn’t see any benefit from trying microdosing. “I was looking to improve my mood and allow me to be a more present parent to my crew, which includes 2-year-old twins,” she says. After getting no relief from magic mushroom capsules, she moved on to LSD. “But it still didn’t do anything for me. I knew it wouldn’t make me trip or anything like that, but it didn’t make me feel any happier or at peace with my crazy home life. I just felt more anxious, like what is wrong with me? Why won’t this work?”
She’s not alone. Washington D.C. native Leo Greene* is disappointed in his microdosing experience, too. “I’m normally a pretty happy-go-lucky guy. But the pandemic and being home with the kids nonstop for like a year really put me in a difficult place, and I struggled not to default back to yelling. Parents in my social circle were raving about finding their joy and having the energy to chase their kids around the National Zoo,” he shares. “So I tried [microdosing] a few times, and what a letdown. I felt nothing, nada, zilch.” Though Greene says, he is open to continued experimentation. “I will keep messing around with the dosage and hopefully find one that works for me. My kids are the best, and I want to be my best as a dad for them.”
Due to restrictive drug policies, placebo-controlled studies on psychedelics are few and far between. Despite that, the Imperial College of London managed to conduct the largest placebo-controlled trial on microdosing psychedelics, although it was ‘self blinded’ meaning participants did it all themselves. The results suggest that the benefits of microdosing may be the result of the ‘placebo effect’—or all in our minds. In other words, we might be creating our own microdosing euphoria more so than the LSD. During the study, 191 participants followed online instructions on incorporating placebo control into their microdosing routines to observe whether it can improve cognitive function and psychological well being. There was significant improvement of all psychological outcomes for the microdose group, however the placebo group—who had no idea they weren’t taking the psychedelic—also experienced nearly equal improvements.
However, that doesn’t stop many parents from having very positive effects, like Oregon native Danica Aria* who is positive that microdosing LSD makes her a better mom, too. “I don’t think it’s hindered my parenting skills but rather helps bring me more patience and calmness to many scenarios that would normally stress me out. I wish other parents would know the beneficial qualities hallucinogens can provide,” she says.
Bramlage believes that day is coming. “We have long known that LSD has been an amazing chemical and agent for change,” he says. “I believe that psychedelics and microdosing are the secret to saving our society and that all starts with re-educating people. We need to break the myths down, to tell the truth—let parents know that there are amazing potential benefits and uses for LSD.”
Until then, you can find me hanging out with my friend Lucy whether I’m at home getting crafty with my kids or at Phish shows surrendering to the flow.
*Name has been changed
About the Author
Amy L. Hogan delights in writing about celebrities, cannabis, psychedelics and sometimes even witches for both print and digital media. In 2001, she received her Bachelor of Arts degree from The Writers Institute at Susquehanna University. She resides on the East Coast with her husband, two daughters, three cats and a chicken named Fluffhead.
Phencyclidine or “angel dust” is a misrepresented psychedelic intertwined with a history of racism and police brutality. But efforts to rehabilitate this drug are met with scorn.
This is the second part of a two-part series on why the psychedelic scene ignores PCP. Check out Part 1 here.
PCP, a drug that also goes by the names “angel dust” and “dipper” among others, remains one of the most stigmatized and misunderstood psychedelics around. However, there is little scientific evidence to suggest that PCP is any more dangerous than any other drug. Alcohol, ketamine, LSD and acetaminophen (Tylenol) can all be just as hazardous if used recklessly.
Much of what people think they know about PCP is shaped by outdated media scare stories and urban legends, not actual evidence. (For more on the science, history, discovery and true dangers of PCP, read Part 1 of this series.) Yet the psychedelic community largely ignores PCP while pushing for the legalization of drugs like MDMA and psilocybin.
One aspect of PCP that cannot be ignored is how this mythology directly plays into the militarization of law enforcement and the proliferation of police brutality. The specific demonization of PCP is not only unwarranted, the stigma can be more deadly than the drug.
PCP was discovered in the 1950’s and was used clinically as an anesthetic for about a decade before being replaced by ketamine—a closely-related drug that offers the same pain-killing benefits with less hallucinations. Sometime in the ‘60s, PCP made its way onto the streets of San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury district, then spread across the nation. In its wake, horrific stories of users gouging out their eyes or withstanding storms of bullets followed.
Strangely, illicit PCP use has largely been restricted to the U.S. “It has failed to gain traction anywhere else on the planet,” according to an analysis byVICE. Its popularity has waned since the ‘80s, and PCP use remains largely constrained to cities like Philadelphia, Los Angeles and Washington, D.C. But for much of the ‘70s and into the ‘90s, PCP was the panic drug du jour.
In 1977,Time Magazine described it as “A Terror of A Drug” while in 1980 the Chicago Tribune warned its allure was the “Sniff of Madness.” In 1982 the Los Angeles Times pegged it as a “Modern-Day Plague,” according to historian Jacob Taylor’s thesis,PCP in the American Media.
“It’s kind of like a part of police lore, this substance that people take that makes them immune to pain and unreasonable and gives them superhuman strength,” Hamilton Morris, a chemist and documentary filmmaker who has done films about both the positive and negative aspects of PCP, tells Psychedelics Today. “It’s almost designed to terrify law enforcement.”
The stark reputation of PCP soon became a justification for police violence, as the idea spread “that users of the drug, once on a violent rampage, were almost impossible to stop,” Taylor reports. “Police spoke of being thrown around ‘like ragdolls,’ and of needing six or more officers to physically restrain one intoxicated individual. Most notoriously, several incidents were documented in which arrestees high on PCP broke free of handcuffs by simply tearing apart the steel-link chains.”
There’s really little actual evidence to back up these claims. A 1988 analysis in theJournal of Clinical Psychopharmacologylooked at 350 studies of PCP and only found three instances of violence, leading the authors to conclude, “PCP does not live up to its reputation as a violence-inducing drug.”
Furthermore, these tales of super human strength may sound familiar: The “negro cocaine fiends” of the early 20th century were an invented media legend used as an extension of the Jim Crow South to demonize Black people. Similar stories of bloodthirsty cocaine users with hyper-strength impervious to bullets were instrumental in banning cocaine and heroin under the Harrison Tax Act.
The specific demonization of PCP is not only unwarranted, the stigma can be more deadly than the drug.
Phencyclidine and Police Brutality
There are echoes of that history in how PCP is perceived by law enforcement today. And the reputation of this drug making users into frenzied killers has real world consequences, especially given that PCP is a cheap drug “linked to urban zones of poverty, unemployment and high crime,” as VICE reports. “In other words it’s a drug linked to inequality, and groups of people who are more likely to be excluded from the mainstream economy, with housing and employment problems, such as the Black community.”
Police officers commonly use fear as an excuse for lethal force—and this defense often works. In the shooting of Philando Castile, officer Jeronimo Yanez of the St. Anthony, Minnesota Police Department, told jurors “I was scared to death. I thought I was going to die,” according to thePioneer Press. Yanez was not convicted. And the “I-feared-for-my-life narrative” is only multiplied when a strange, infamous drug is introduced.
“When you really think about what that does to the psychology of law enforcement, it’s a terrifying idea,” Morris says. “If they genuinely believe that someone has superhuman strength, that means they can kill you easily. If you believe that the people who use this substance have superhuman strength, that’s a justification for excessive lethal force.”
This is exactly what has happened on numerous occasions, even in recent history. On March 23, 2020, Rochester police approached Daniel Prude, who was naked and having a mental health episode. Officers placed a ‘spit hood’ over Prude’s head, a mesh bag designed to prevent spitting and biting. They then pressed his face into the ground for two minutes, suffocating the 41-year-old man.
A year later, the New York State Attorney General announced the seven officers involved in the case would not face any criminal charges—their lawyers argued that PCP had killed the man, not their actions. A medical examiner’s report listed the death as a homicide, but noted that PCP in Prude’s system contributed to his death.
Of course, just a few weeks after Prude’s death, George Floyd was murdered in Minneapolis by officer Derek Chauvin under similar circumstances: suffocation while being pressed into the ground. In fact, one of the other officers, Thomas Lane, can be heard asking Chauvin if Floyd might be on PCP. Floyd later tested negative for the drug, but methamphetamine and fentanyl were found in his blood. So Chauvin’s defense emphasized that these drugs must have killed Floyd—not the fact that his knee was on Floyd’s neck for 9 and a half minutes. A jury did not agree and convicted Chauvin of two counts of murder and one count of manslaughter.
The case of Laquan McDonald is another rare case in which a police officer was convicted of murder for killing an unarmed civilian. In October 2014, McDonald was walking away from Officer Jason Van Dyke when he was shot 16 times in the back. Van Dyke wasn’t charged until over a year later when dashcam footage was released via a judge’s order.
During the trial, a pharmacologist named James Thomas O’Donnell testified that McDonald was “whacked on PCP,” which had been found during an autopsy. But jurors weren’t convinced and found Van Dyke guilty of 16 counts of aggravated battery with a firearm and second-degree murder.
Typically, however, when PCP is involved, that isn’t the case. In 2016 Terence Crutcher was shot dead by officer Betty Jo Shelby in Tulsa, Oklahoma. An autopsy showed “acute phencyclidine intoxication” and also the presence of TCP, a similar drug to PCP. A jury found her not guilty.
“Psychedelic enthusiasts were conspicuously silent when Van Dyke used PCP as justification for his savagery,” Dr. Carl Hart, a neuroscientist and professor of psychology at Columbia University wrote in his most recent book, Drug Use For Grownups. “We also didn’t hear a peep from them when Betty Jo Shelby, a white Oklahoman police officer, evoked the ‘crazy nigger on PCP’ defense to justify her killing of unarmed black Terence Crutcher.”
But PCP doesn’t actually have to be involved, either. The most famous example is likely from March 1991, when Rodney King was yanked from his vehicle and savagely beaten by four Los Angeles police officers. One of them yelled, “He’s dusted!” but King later tested negative for PCP—only alcohol was in his system.
However, during the trial, a “drug expert” declared the officers were “justified” in their belief that King was under the influence of PCP, according to the Chicago Tribune. The officers were acquitted, although two were later sentenced to 30 months in prison by a federal court.
‘Non-Lethal’ Weapons And PCP
One particular PCP-related incident fundamentally changed policing in America. In 1977, 35-year-old biochemist Ronald Burkholder was naked in the streets of Los Angeles, high on PCPy (also called rolicyclidine), a PCP analogue in the class of arylcyclohexylamines. Burkholder was allegedly climbing a sign pole, came down and tried to grab LAPD sergeant Kurt G. Barz’s nightstick. After a struggle, Barz shot Burkholder six times. Because he was naked and unarmed, the case drew considerable controversy, including from the ACLU.
According to Morris, this case and other police murder incidents “produced enough social pressure on law enforcement that they started to carry tasers and pepper spray,” Morris says, adding, “You can actually trace the history of non-lethal incapacitating agents being used by law enforcement to PCP.”
“Cops wanted some kind of tool that would allow them to subdue folks high on PCP without having to lay hands on them. The Taser did the trick,” journalist Matt Stroud reported forOneZero. According to Taylor, some police departments “experimented with ‘grabbing-sticks,’ nets, water-cannons, sound-wave guns, bean-bag guns, and, in a surreal example from New York City, mace-spraying robots … It created a culture of fear among police which must have had a lasting, negative impact on their work.”
“As Americans, when we participate in racism, I think we use at our disposal whatever tools are available. And sometimes PCP can be used as one of those tools.”
With a new market, many companies soon filled the gap, often openly advertising so-called “less-than-lethal” weaponry using PCP as a selling point. “A lot of companies would market to law enforcement non-lethal equipment, like tasers, stun guns, there were nets, and they would really play up the fact that these are for people that are intoxicated on PCP specifically,” Dr. Jason Wallach, a neuropsychopharmacologist who has studied PCP and related chemicals, tells Psychedelics Today. “Anytime they can sell using fear, companies will.”
Encouragement came from the federal government as well. For example, a 1994 bulletin from the National Institute of Justice advertised oleoresin capsicum—that is, pepper spray—and flat out quotes a police sergeant saying, “When confronting subjects under the influence of PCP … ‘OC is the best option short of a lethal weapon. If we did not have pepper spray, we would have to use lethal force. Having OC is another tool to use at the lowest possible level versus impact weapons, which won’t work anyway on subjects under the influence of PCP,” implying that people on PCP are impervious to bullets.
Even today companies market misinformation about PCP to sell something. Lexipol, a Texas consulting company that provides training to police departments, has a blog post on its website from 2016 titled, “5 safety tips for cops when dealing with a subject high on PCP.” It contains multiple urban legends, such as suspects breaking free of handcuffs or that PCP can be absorbed through the skin, an echo of the fentanyl touch myth that persists in the media today. It even suggests drugging people: “allow medical providers, if available and authorized, to use sedative medications to chemically restrain the patient.”
But describing these tools as “less-than-lethal” is just a euphemism—they can and do kill. A 2017Reuters investigation documented 1,005 deaths from tasers, in which 9 out of 10 involved unarmed people. The news organization was able to obtain 712 autopsies, reporting: “In 153 of those cases, or more than a fifth, the Taser was cited as a cause or contributing factor in the death.”
Tasers also don’t reduce police shootings. An eight-year study of the Chicago Police Department by the National Bureau of Economic Research, for example, noted that, “Police injuries fell, but neither injury rates nor the number of injuries to civilians were affected. There is no evidence that Tasers led to a reduction in police use of firearms.”
PCP is uniquely treated among drug users and law enforcement. Even drugs that are somewhat similar to PCP are not given the same level of stigma. But in the end, drugs are often just used as an excuse for racism and over-policing in America—the chemical itself is irrelevant.
“As Americans, when we participate in racism, I think we use at our disposal whatever tools are available. And sometimes PCP can be used as one of those tools,” Hart tells Psychedelics Today. “I don’t think that PCP is special in that way or anything like that.”
People who care about ending the drug war or generally reforming drug policy should be aware of the history of racism and police brutality that has played into PCP’s reputation as a dangerous drug. Like any drug, PCP can be abused. But what actually makes drug use dangerous often has more to do with prohibition than any intrinsic nature of a chemical. And police overwhelmingly benefit from the power dynamics of prohibition, meaning they have a deep investment in this mythology.
“It’s not really about PCP, of course,” Morris says. “The bigger issue is the way that we assign certain values to drugs as pharmacological determinism, and what the medical and political outcomes of that can be in terms of prison sentences, in terms of law enforcement’s behavior.”
This is why PCP should probably be more centered in the conversation about psychedelic drug reform. The efforts to decriminalize drugs shouldn’t just focus on the substances people think are safe or socially acceptable, but focus on ending the systems that inflict suffering on minorities and low-income communities.
“The main most important thing is for people to know that pharmacologically, [PCP] is not that dissimilar from ketamine,” Hart says. “And the sort of narratives that we tell ourselves about it has less to do with pharmacology, and more to do with these social sort of issues. I just hope that they’re not fooled by those cop stories any longer.”
About the Author
Troy Farahis an independent science and drug policy reporter that lives in Southern California with his wife and two dogs. His work has appeared in National Geographic, The Guardian, VICE, WIRED and others. He co-hosts the podcast Narcotica and can be found on Twitter @filth_filler or on his website troyfarah.com .
Stigma against PCP or “angel dust” contradicts the science of this misunderstood psychedelic. But, will the psychedelic community ever look at phencyclidine favorably?
The retro schlock horror of cannabis turning teenagers into murderous sex fiends is nothing but laughable today. The same Reefer Madness applied to psychedelic drugs like LSD or psilocybin “magic” mushrooms is also rightfully judged to be an absurd relic of the Nixon era. Even attitudes on heroin, cocaine and methamphetamine have slightly relaxed—sure, these drugs can be highly addictive, but few believe they turn you into a bloodthirsty monster.
Yet one narcotic still remains in the public consciousness as nothing but a lethal menace that will drive users into fugues of brutal rage: PCP.
Ever since its arrival on the black market in the 1960s, PCP, or phencyclidine, has been saddled with a reputation of extreme violence, cannibalism and superhuman strength. Urban legends of “angel dust” consumers breaking squad car doors off their hinges or bursting from handcuffs persist—despite the fact that scientific evidence for PCP causing any such behavior is non-existent, to put it lightly.
Like many other demonized drugs, such as ketamine or MDMA, PCP has a long history of therapeutic use. And PCP is a psychedelic, too, not just a dissociative anesthetic. But while drug policy reform advocates are pushing the Overton window when it comes to so-called “classic” psychedelics, PCP is notably left out of the conversation. But why?
“I am deeply disturbed that there is a deafening silence from the psychedelic community while fellow drug users continue to be brutalized as a result of PCP-related misapprehensions,” Dr. Carl Hart, a neuroscientist and professor of psychology at Columbia University wrote in his most recent book, Drug Use For Grownups. But he acknowledges a likely explanation: “Drawing attention to the fact that PCP is also a psychedelic might jeopardize the reputation, and thus the availability, of other psychedelics.”
PCP could be seen as another example of “psychedelic exceptionalism,” in which certain drugs are seen as “better” than others because they are used by certain people and not others. For example, the Decriminalize Nature movement has taken the U.S. by storm, loosening laws against “plant medicine” like ayahuasca, ibogaine and mescaline cactus, not to mention psilocybin fungi. But these laws—which have passed in at least seven cities, including Oakland, Ann Arbor and Cambridge—exclude other plant medicines like opium, coca leaf, khat and more.
The same narrow-mindedness or lack of political scrutiny could be said about PCP, according to Hart and other experts, such as Dr. Jason Wallach, a neuropsychopharmacologist and assistant pharmaceutical sciences professor at the University of the Sciences in Philadelphia. Wallach has closely studied PCP, ketamine and related drugs like 3-MeO-PCP, publishing numerous reports on this class of drugs (known technically as arylcyclohexylamines), including a textbook chapter devoted to dissociative anesthetics.
“I don’t see anything about PCP that makes it inherently more dangerous than other dissociative drugs, like ketamine, for example,” Wallach tells Psychedelics Today. “I think the stigma around PCP is almost exclusively of the media’s creation.”
Understanding how that myth of PCP was created—and how the power structures it serves persist today—is essential for anyone who truly cares about drug policy reform.
Like many drugs, the profound psychoactivity of PCP was an unexpected discovery. On March 26, 1956, a medicinal chemist named Dr. Victor Maddox was developing various compounds for Parke-Davis and Company in Detroit, Michigan. Maddox showed one molecule, which he temporarily named GP 121, to his coworker, Dr. Graham Chen, who said it was the most unique compound that he had ever examined. This was phencyclidine, or PCP.
Structurally, PCP resembles a stupor-inducing drug that is produced in Corydalis cava flowers called bulbocapnine, which was used by the CIA in the agency’s Project MKUltra mind control experiments. Chen dubbed PCP a “cataleptoid anesthetic” and began giving it to animals. Some of the cats he injected with PCP would remain in a state of rigid, fixed posture for 24 hours, while a wild rhesus monkey became so calm it allowed researchers to jam their fingers in its mouth without biting.
Following further testing in animals, a Dr. Edward Domino revealed that PCP was much less toxic than opioids and human trials began around a year later. By 1963, PCP was patented and sold as a drug with the brand names Serynl and Sernylan, which come from the word “serenity.” (Not exactly the word most people associate with PCP today.)
“As patients were anesthetized with PCP, it became obvious that the drug, when properly administered by an anesthesiologist, was indeed very safe, far safer than most anesthetics that were then available,” Domino wrote in the Journal of Psychedelic Drugs in 1980. But there was a problem. Some patients experienced “the sensation of feeling no arms or legs and being in outer space,” Domino wrote.
The side effects of PCP—hallucinations, delirium, confusion—were too much for many clinicians. Chemists quickly cooked up an alternative and in 1962, chemistry professor Calvin Stevens presented a new drug to the world: ketamine. PCP was voluntarily withdrawn from the market in 1965.
“PCP and ketamine are chemical cousins,” Hart tells Psychedelics Today. “So if you’re going to classify ketamine as a psychedelic thing, you have to classify PCP as a psychedelic.”
Yes, ketamine and PCP are very similar in nature. But while ketamine is heralded as the latest “breakthrough drug” for treating mental health—which it very well could be—PCP is still considered by some to be the “most dangerous drug.” But how dangerous is it really?
For Brian, who lives in the Washington, D.C. area, PCP was like “the boogie man.” He was familiar with stories of people taking it and stripping naked in the street, so he’s not sure what finally motivated him to try it. But a friend with sickle cell anemia was dipping cigarettes in liquid PCP—what locals call “the dipper”—and said, “If this guy has fucking sickle cell anemia and he’s not scared, I can’t let him go out by himself. So I hit it too.”
Brian, whose real name is not being used, says the first thing he noticed was ringing in his ears like an alarm going off in the distance, followed by a feeling of being immersed in water. On the phone, he made a warbly sound, like batteries dying in a cassette tape deck.
“It feels fucking odd and awkward,” Brian says. “But once you come down, it’s like clarity out of the chaos. I just descend it to a single cell organism and feel in tune with every fucking thing.”
Brian says he’s had multiple, profound psychedelic experiences on PCP. “I’ve literally had moments where I definitely feel that my fucking heightened crown chakra just exploded,” he says. “It actually exploded to a different consciousness, where I was an observer of myself.”
However, Brian, who has also used DMT and mushrooms, is first to admit that it’s “not all peaches and cream,” as he puts it. Several times, he says he’s woken up in the hospital. “It’s more chaotic, and more traumatizing and more negative than it has been positive,” he says. “But those positive times have been extremely fucking groundbreaking.”
Filmmaker and chemist Hamilton Morris has tried to show both sides of this drug. In fact, Morris says PCP was behind the entire genesis of his drug documentary series on Viceland, Hamilton’s Pharmacopeia. Morris recalls arguing with an executive producer about the show’s content, who said, essentially, “Well, you have to admit that some drugs are bad.”
Morris tells Psychedelics Today that he responded, “No, I don’t have to have to admit that at all. And he said, ‘Well, what about PCP? You couldn’t possibly say that PCP is good.’ And I said, certainly I could make the case that it’s not what people think it is. And that was sort of the origin of the show.”
Episode two, “A Positive PCP Story”, aired in 2016. It features Morris as he journeys across the U.S. to speak with PCP chemists, both clandestine and legitimate, as well as people like Timothy Wyllie, a British author, a founding member of the Process Church of the Final Judgment, and artist who illustrated sacred landscapes while under the influence of phencyclidine.
In contrast, Morris also interviews people who have struggled with PCP addiction, as well as Christ Bearer, a rapper who attempted suicide on PCP after amputating his penis. Christ Bearer survived his attempt, but now says he’s “proud” of what he did.
“He felt his penis had a negative impact on his life, and cutting it off allowed him to focus on his art,” Morris told The Guardian. “If he stands by it and thinks his life is better as a result, does that really mean he did something bad?”
Horrific self-amputation stories aside, it’s clear that PCP tales like these are anomalies. It doesn’t take much Googling to find almost identical stories involving alcohol. But few people are worried about booze driving people to such violence. Yet, when it comes to PCP, stories like this tend to rise to the top.
“What you shouldn’t do is then try to extrapolate that and say, ‘This is a normal response with PCP,’” Wallach says. (Side note: Wallach and Morris are friends. Wallach appears in the “Positive PCP Story” episode, and in 2014, Morris and Wallach published a scientific review of dissociative drugs, including ketamine and PCP.) “There absolutely have been horrible things that have happened while people were intoxicated. But you could say the same thing about any intoxicant, including ethanol. There’s no good, solid evidence that PCP has a higher propensity to cause this type of response.”
Morris has himself sampled PCP, both by snorting the hydrochloride salt and smoking the freebase. “My experiences with it were, on one hand, unremarkable,” Morris says. “Given that this is a substance that is almost exclusively associated with psychosis and adverse responses of one kind or another, the major takeaway for me was that whatever supposed problems are associated with this drug are not intrinsic problems of PCP. The problems [are] associated with poverty, lack of control over the dosing, black market distribution patterns, mental illness, and so on.”
Will the psychedelic community ever come to terms with PCP like it has other synthetic psychedelics like MDMA, LSD or ketamine? Similar horror stories and misperceptions have plagued these drugs in the past, but today most people recognize the medicinal and (relatively safe) recreational value of psychedelics. PCP seems to remain a hold-out.
“I think it’s certainly something that has been ignored partially because of its association with impoverished people who have no connection to the counterculture, really,” Morris says. “Maybe the biggest issue of all is that this is a substance that middle upper class people don’t use. So in order to really change people’s minds on a large scale, it’s often the case that people have to have direct experience with the substance.”
However, the people I spoke to for this article didn’t seem optimistic that the stigmatizing attitudes toward PCP would change any time soon.
“That sort of myth is too important to opinion makers in our society, including law enforcement, including some people who are trying to distance their favorite drug away from something like PCP,” Hart says. “PCP does not have an advocate. It’s bad enough you don’t have an advocate, you need to have a powerful advocate. And I don’t see PCP having such an advocate.”
Morris agrees perceptions about PCP have been hard to change, even after the success of his TV show. And even the most adventurous psychedelic startups probably won’t want to investigate the scientific, therapeutic value of PCP, although analogs of the drug gacyclidine (a PCP derivative) are being trialed for tinnitus treatment.
“I don’t predict anyone will advocate for that in the near future. But you never know,” Morris says. “It’s just another one of many instances of a substance that has a reputation that has been sculpted, not by any intrinsic property of the substance itself, but by the social framework in which it’s used.”
Troy Farahis an independent science and drug policy reporter that lives in Southern California with his wife and two dogs. His work has appeared in National Geographic, The Guardian, VICE, WIRED and others. He co-hosts the podcast Narcotica and can be found on Twitter @filth_filler or on his website troyfarah.com .
Sacred psychedelic plant medicines are increasingly entering the Western mainstream, but is it cultural appropriation?
From the medicinal and ceremonial use of mescaline-containing plants by the Indigenous peoples of Mexico thousands of years ago, to the brewing of ayahuasca by several Indigenous groups in the Amazon today, entheogens have been a part of the cultural heritage of these communities in ways that Western society is just starting to understand.
Because there are significant differences in the ways these plants have been used historically and the way Western society is integrating them, let’s take a brief look at both approaches.
Indigenous Uses of Sacred Plant Medicines and Traditions
Various Indigenous cultures have used medicinal plants with psychoactive properties for hundreds of years including the Mazatec and Huichol of Mexico, Native North Americans, tribes in Africa, and Indigenous groups in the Amazon. The uses of these plants vary from culture to culture, but have a few commonalities when it comes to their healing purposes. For most, there is a general belief in their sacredness and spiritual properties.
“Plants, in general, have been used for ceremony, food, and utilitarian purposes. Sacred plant medicines were always used in ceremonies and never used for recreational purposes. Plants were placed on this earth to heal humanity as I understand it,” Belinda Eriacho, Native American Healer, tells Psychedelics Today. “In my own experiences, these sacred plant medicines have helped me to heal intergenerational trauma, to find peace with deceased loved ones, and to look at my own life and improve many areas of [it].”
When it comes to ayahuasca, Indigenous peoples from Brazil, Peru, Bolivia, Colombia, and Ecuador have used the brew in their sacred rituals for many years. It served and continues to serve as a basis for the establishment of different spiritual traditions by these peoples. They hold the vine in high regard and believe it can facilitate the perception of the complexity of the natural world and human creation.
Similarly, the consumption of peyote in sacred rituals allowed the Huicholes and the Tarahumaras of Mexico to come into contact with divine beings or ancestors and to cure various diseases. To this day, peyote has also been adopted by several Native American peoples. They see peyote as a gift from the creator, and a direct communication channel with the “Great Spirit”.
These cultures have preserved rituals and sacred medicines but have also gone through extreme hardships in order to do so. Many Indigenous spiritual practices in Mexico were severely persecuted and banned during the Spanish Inquisition, and hundreds of thousands of natives were brutally murdered. Many other Indigenous communities in the Americas faced the same barbarities during colonization, having their codices destroyed and much of their ceremonial knowledge lost.
Western Uses of Plant Medicines
In the Western world, the use of psychedelic plant medicine can also be traced for thousands of years. A few examples are The Eleusinian Mysteries, the most famous of the secret religious rites of ancient Greece that involved ceremonies with psychoactive plants. Furthermore, Indigenous peoples of Siberia and the Sámi people of Northern Europe used Amanita Muscaria mushrooms in their sacred traditions.
Many medicinal plants have found their way into numerous products that the pharmaceutical industry sells today to treat a variety of diseases and health conditions, from aspirin derived from willow tree bark, to the current growing interest in entheogens for therapy and the possibility to revolutionize global mental health.
Scientists have been carrying out research for decades on psychedelic plants for their chemical properties and pharmaceutical potential. In this model of Western medicine, science seeks to understand these substances simply as chemical compounds detached from their ethnobotanical origin.
Adapting the uses of sacred psychedelic plants to Western medicine brings the advantage of making them accessible to people who can benefit tremendously from their properties on a global scale. In recent years, research into psychedelics has demonstrated their potential to address disorders that have proved difficult to treat including depression, anxiety, chemical dependency, and post-traumatic stress disorders.
But in reality, there is a suspicion that dominating the market is more important than addressing the mental health crisis. For instance, we are currently witnessing a debate on whether it’s ethical for companies such as COMPASS Pathways to try and monopolize the psychedelic industry with their patent strategy.
Additionally, in the past few years, the New Age spirituality movement has merged with positive psychology and the wellness industry, bringing many to seek healing, transcendental experiences, and self-improvement through entheogens. For many, these plants are the catalyst of positive life changes and are also revered with respect. However, there is concern that some are engaging in ceremonies so often that “spiritual bypassing” is now a recurring theme in psychedelic community discussions.
“I find it interesting how often I hear stories of people doing ceremony [using sacred plant medicines] every weekend. In many indigenous cultures, you were blessed to have one ceremony in your lifetime,” says Eriacho. “I would suggest that if individuals are finding that they need to use these plant medicines every weekend then (1) they are not taking the time to fully integrate into the experiences shown to them, and (2) these plant medicine(s) are not working for them.”
This high demand and constant search are not without negative consequences. Issues related to cultural appropriation, sustainability, and the commercialization of spirituality are often ignored by Westerners while engaging in such frequent ceremonies and spiritual tourism when they should be taken into greater consideration.
What Is Cultural Appropriation?
To understand the meaning of “cultural appropriation”, we need to understand the meaning of “appropriation” and ”culture” on an individual basis. We can define culture as the set of practices, symbols, and values that a specific group shares. For example, tattoos are an important symbol for many Indigenous cultures, as they are an essential part of the historical constitution of the groups to which they belong.
On the other hand, appropriation is the act of taking for oneself a certain element without the owner’s consent. So cultural appropriation would be the action of adopting elements of a culture to which you don’t belong without consent. An important detail to remember is this becomes problematic when it involves a power relationship. For example, it’s cultural appropriation when a culture which has historically been suppressed and marginalized has its elements stolen and its meanings erased by another culture that has dominated it.
Cultural appropriation contributes to the maintenance of structural racism in our society and the continuity of different stereotypes about cultures. But we must not forget that individuals appropriating a culture are just symptoms of a much larger problem. A capitalist system that aims for profit and uses extractivism (the exploitation of natural resources on a massive scale generating significant economic profits for a powerful few) to transform a community’s culture into a product but does not value the people whose culture it belongs to, is the real problem that needs addressing.
In the context of medicinal psychedelic plants and fungi, cultural appropriation may manifest itself in different ways. An example was the bioprospecting (the practice of searching for botanical miracle cures) of psilocybin mushrooms out of their Oaxacan context at the end of the 1950s by R. Gordon Wasson. And more recently, cases of “neo shamans” offering ceremonies they label “authentic” without years of experience and a real understanding of the cultures to which these ceremonies belong, are also examples of cultural appropriation.
The Answer? Awareness, Balance and Respect
There is a growing tendency to commodify these substances without giving back to the communities who have held this knowledge for centuries at their own risk. For example, who is really benefiting from expensive retreats in the Amazon jungle? Additionally, the development of new treatments with synthetic derivatives of these substances will reach the market through pharmaceutical patents without properly recognizing traditional knowledge.
For Indigenous people throughout the world, the commercialization of their spirituality is just one of many daily challenges embedded in larger societal struggles. Western engagement with Indigenous spiritual traditions often contributes to a false romanticization of these communities’ situations; it can even feel like an erasure of the injustices that they have experienced in the past, and continue to experience to this day. Indigenous people have to fight daily for the preservation of their lands, their languages, and their cultures. In fact, many continue to be murdered for standing up for their rights. As psychedelic enthusiasts, we have the responsibility to bring awareness to these dynamics.
“While psychedelic plant medicines still have most of their potential still to be taped into for the benefit of society, contemporary psychedelic studies are at risk of replicating harmful colonial behavior with the territories and communities from which the plants originate,” writes anthropologist, Paloma David, in her forthcoming publication, “Decolonizing Psychedelic Studies: The Case of Ayahuasca”. “A decolonial approach is essential to the current renaissance as failing to recognize indigenous perspectives as equally valuable to the discussion in the appropriate use of these substances only contributes to deepening the colonial wound in which these plants are interwoven.”
Will psychedelics be reduced to high-class wellness, healthcare, or self-optimization products that are only accessible for those who can afford the steep price tag while the people that carried this traditional knowledge are excluded from the market? As we are about to enter the era of psychedelic capitalism, it’s important for us to remember that balance can be achieved if we acknowledge that respect is crucial for any relationship.
We need to look at what we are doing when it comes to sacred plant medicine, how we are doing it, and what impact our actions have on other communities around the world. There needs to be an effort to educate ourselves in order to comprehend Indigenous paradigms, and the effect of their loss of languages, land, culture, and knowledge. As we begin to better understand spiritual identity and sacred reciprocity, we can start making an effort to no longer let Indigenous peoples and their cultures be seen as resources to be harvested.
“Through my lens as a Native American woman, when we are ill or when we seek balance in our lives through ceremony, we often look to our plant relatives for healing,” says Eriacho “There is a ritual or practice of utilizing these sacred beings. Before the plant is harvested, we are mindful about how much will be needed, and then explain to the plant why it is needed and for whom. This is done out of respect for the plant in exchange for its life. We offer tobacco, cornmeal as an act of appreciation. This is referred to as sacred reciprocity. We need to be respectful and reverent of these sacred plant medicines.”
So how can we protect and develop traditional ceremonies in a way that is useful and respectful of Indigenous communities? And how can we prevent the so-called psychedelic renaissance from exclusively benefiting non-Indigenous Western entrepreneurs?
When I speak to Paloma David about how we can move forward in a respectful fashion, she says, “Firstly, by being culturally humble in actively listening to Indigenous voices who are authorities on the use of psychedelic plant medicines and actively including them in the conversation on the appropriate use of these substances.”
“By being aware of our own cultural biases. By understanding that people’s making-sense of an ayahuasca experience is highly dependent on their cultural background, religious beliefs (or the lack thereof), and personal psychology.” David continues, “And secondly, by avoiding the harmful reproduction of colonial dynamics of appropriation, epistemicide and exploitation in which the Amazon rainforest and Indigenous knowledges are interwoven.”
Reflecting on these ethical dilemmas can offer us models for understanding and solving this continuing harmful and extractive economy. Another solution might be pointing out paths for fair and reciprocal reparation agreements with Indigenous communities.
More importantly, considering these issues make us question the colonial and racialized Western mentality that contributes to the continued delegitimization of Indigenous communities and their knowledge so we all can at least start asking ourselves: What are the true costs of our healing?
About the Author
Jessika Lagarde is a Brazilian storyteller, Earth and climate activist, and Women On Psychedelics co-Founder. Women On Psychedelics is an educational platform that advocates for the end of the stigmatization around women’s mental health and substance use, and the normalization of the use of psychedelics for its therapeutic potential and healing capacities. Jessika’s environmental work and psychedelic path have made her more aware not only of the crisis of our planet but also of how human disconnection is a direct cause of it. All of her work is informed in taking action in a way that serves the Earth and our human collective, in hopes of mobilizing inner healing towards outer action.
Our regular legal contributor explains why the DEA denied the ayahuasca church Soul Quest’s religious freedom exemption application, and how the DEA may be overstepping its role.
To explain what happened between the DEA and Soul Quest, we first need to step back and start from the very beginning. Our story begins with the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA), a sub-agency of the US Department of Justice, itself an agency of the Executive Branch. The DEA serves as legal gatekeeper of scheduled substances under the Federal Controlled Substances Act, including ayahuasca which contains dimethyltryptamine (DMT), a Schedule 1 substance. Although Schedule 1 substances are generally forbidden, their manufacture and use are permitted for licensed scientific research and as sacrament in sincere religious practice. In fact, there are United States Supreme Court cases that have recognized the First Amendment protected use of psychedelic substances, such as ayahuasca and peyote, in religious practices.
Against this backdrop, the DEA asserts jurisdiction over access and importation of Schedule 1 substances. For religious users, the DEA requires all religiously inclined importers, manufacturers, and users of Schedule 1 substances to first seek DEA exemption (meaning: acknowledgment and permission) before being allowed to import or to access such drugs. The DEA even published an exemption application and requires all parties seeking exemption to provide a raft of data, substantial disclosures, interviews, among other requirements, signed and sworn under oath, attesting to the possession and use of Schedule 1 substances.
In an effort to comply with the DEA Soul Quest Church of Mother Earth, Inc. submitted a request for religious exemption to use ayahuasca as a sacrament in 2017. It wanted to assure its congregants and officiants would be protected from further and future investigation and interdiction by the DEA, which posed a continuing threat of intervention and prevention of Soul Quest’s ayahuasca importation.
Under attorney letterhead, Soul Quest’s request sought exemption from application of the Controlled Substances Act in its totality—in other words, Soul Quest was seeking the ability to import, possess, manufacture and administer ayahuasca, all on premise of religious freedom:
“…request for a religious-based exemption by Soul Quest Church of Mother Earth, Inc., d/b/a, Soul Quest Ayahuasca Church of Mother Earth Retreat & Wellness Center (“Soul Quest”) to the provisions of the Controlled Substances Act, 21 U.S.C. § 801, et seq., specifically as it pertains to the ritual use by Soul Quest of ayahuasca for its sacramental activities. Soul Quest asserts its eligibility for such an exemption, pursuant to the United States Supreme Court’s decision in 0 Centro Espirita Beneficente Uniao Do Vegetal v. Gonzalez, 546 U.S. 418 (2006) (“Gonzalez”), and the provisions of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993, 42 U.S.C. §§ 2000bb, et seq., (“RFRA”).”
In support of its First Amendment and Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) rights, Soul Quest provided a variety of organization records and information, including bylaws, articles of faith, dietary provisions, mission statement, safety and security protocols, among other requirements. Several church members also sat for extensive interviews with DEA agents.
The DEA’s Denial of Soul Quest
Disappointingly, albeit not surprisingly, the DEA took the better part of four years to come to a decision: application denied.
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…”
It is important to make a clear distinction here that the First Amendment does not grant religious freedom. Rather, it acknowledges its preexistence. The US Constitution presupposes religious freedom existed before nationhood and that the innate right would be forever protected from government intrusion through the guarantee provided for in the First Amendment. In this sense, the First Amendment is a brake on governmental regulatory power. But this does not mean the government cannot regulate. It can. But, when those regulations intersect religious belief or practice, the borders of Constitutional right can sometimes be ambiguous and require a court ruling. That is where the Federal Religious Freedom Restoration Act comes into play. It assures that the burden is always on the government to prove that its religion-impacting regulation serves a compelling governmental interest and is being enforced by the least restrictive means. To this end, the DEA’s denial letter actually does a fine job of summarizing the RFRA standard. But for reasons explained a little further below, the DEA is misinterpreting its position in the RFRA analysis flow:
“According to RFRA, the “Government shall not substantially burden a person’s exercise of religion” unless the Government can demonstrate “that application of the burden to the person (1) is in furtherance of a compelling governmental interest and (2) is the least restrictive means of furthering that compelling governmental interest.” 42 U.S.C. § 2000bb-1; AG Memorandum at 3. To establish a prima facie case for an exemption from the CSA under RFRA, a claimant must demonstrate that application of the CSA’s prohibitions with respect to a specific controlled substance would (1) substantially burden, (2) religious exercise (as opposed to a philosophy or way of life), (3) based on a belief that is sincerely held by the claimant. 0 Centro, 546 U.S. at 428. Once the claimant has established these threshold requirements, the burden shifts to the government to demonstrate that the challenged prohibition furthers a compelling governmental interest by the least restrictive means. This “compelling interest test” must be satisfied through application of the CSA to the particular claimant who alleges that a sincere exercise of religion is being substantially burdened. Id. at 430-31.”
Soul Quest is in litigation with the DEA over the exemption denial and is challenging the DEA’s determinations, seeking to enjoin the government agency’s continuing interdictions of its religious practices. Whatever facts the DEA disbelieved or questioned will ultimately be put to a judge (if the case survives to an evidentiary hearing).
Not only does Soul Quest get to challenge the DEA’s application of the facts, but Soul Quest also gets to challenge how the DEA applies the law. In this regard, any psychedelic religious group would be right in thinking to attack the process. That is, just because the DEA says it gets to decide what a religion is, does not necessarily mean the DEA actually has that authority. Likewise, just because the DEA says its policy of wholesale refusal to grant importation exemption is the “least restrictive means” does not mean it is.
In other words, a psychedelic religion seeking to challenge the DEA’s assumptions should not simply let the DEA dictate or frame the issues. Why? Because the DEA has it wrong. Let’s walk through the analysis.
Imagine you just asked (not applied – just asked) for exemption. The DEA, under its current policies, would presuppose it is not dealing with a religion or a religious group. [Why?] The DEA would deny the exemption. [Why?] The DEA would request you fill out its forms. [Why?] Provide a raft of data. [Why?] Sit for interviews. [Why?] The DEA requests this on the premise that it is going to determine, amongst other things, if your group is a religion. [Why?] And the DEA will also determine if your practice is sincere. [Why?]
Consider this: The DEA investigates and makes its own determination on the validity of religion and the sincerity of its practice. If the DEA determines, as it did in Soul Quest’s instance, that your group is not a religion, or it determines your practice is insincere, it will deny you the exemption. But, from where does DEA, a police agency, derive this power? In what statute or appellate decision is the DEA’s espoused belief that it has the right to investigate and to certify religion in the United States found? Doesn’t the First Amendment demand that the DEA presume the religion is valid and its practitioners sincere? Wouldn’t anything less be an affront to the guaranteed protection of fundamental freedoms accorded by the First Amendment?
If imagination helps context, consider if the issue were Catholics having to prove both Catholicism and the sincerity of its practice to a police officer, as a precondition to import or to consume Eucharist wafers. This would be abhorrent to the First Amendment, would it not? Next, imagine that the same police officer approved Catholicism, but still denied the Eucharist because he found your practice of Catholicism insincere (your transgression: not being at Mass last Sunday). A police agency preventing access to Eucharist because of the officer’s arbitrary assessment would even more offend the First Amendment, would it not? Yet, this is present DEA policy. What’s worse, the DEA does this with no objective standards.
Readers must understand, the DEA absolutely has a role to play in the nation’s drug regulatory scheme. It likewise does properly involve itself in scheduled substance importation and tracking. In this context, contact between the DEA and religious groups engaged in the importation of psychedelic sacrament is neither unexpected nor unwelcomed. For example, pharmaceutical companies and medical practitioners are well acquainted with the paperwork and practices that come with the importation and storage of scheduled substances. But those are, compared to assessing religion, very mechanical and objective functions for the agency. Religion is far too ephemeral and Constitutionally protected for a police agency to engage without clear parameters and metrics. And that is the point, even assuming the DEA were authorized to assess religion, it would still need objective metrics, of which it presently has none. In the absence of objective standards, its decisions on religion would be (and are) subjective and applied unequally.
Even if somehow the practice of DEA religious assessment were deemed First Amendment compliant, the DEA would still then have to contend with the Equal Protection and Due Process clauses of the Constitution, two places where subjectivity combined with government intrusion have not fared well. If the DEA does not have published objective standards, then every investigation it conducts into religion is by definition subjective. In every one of those cases, the decisions will be made (and presently are being made) by field agents with no training in religious practices or theology—cops arbitrarily approving and disapproving religions.
This may seem odd, but the DEA being mired in the religion question is a little not its fault. The DEA was created by President Nixon to assist in enforcement of the new Controlled Substances Act, but it was never given instruction or authority over religion. Making matters more complicated, although it sets many of its own policies, the DEA answers to the United States Department of Justice (USDOJ), and neither have ever put forth a cogent and logical policy on religious exemption. The favorable ayahuasca cases, especially the 2006 case, Gonzales v. O Centro Espirita Beneficiente Uniao Do Vegetal, 546 U.S. 418 (2006), caught the DEA off guard, but it never put in the time to work through the problem.
There is a single solution that solves both the problem of helping the DEA to avoid having to act as religious police and helping to arrive at the true least restrictive means to effectuate the DEA’s legitimate governmental interest of preventing diversion of controlled substances outside of the comprehensive regulatory scheme established by Congress. And, no, total prohibition as the DEA advocates is not the solution. Rather, the DEA should abandon its entire exemption policy.
Instead, the DEA should reduce its religious assessments to no more than requiring an attestation of religious intention and sincerity of belief, signed under oath and under penalty of perjury (the DEA could still mandate inspection of storage facilities and other non-religious aspects). The attestation would include details like: name, address, phone number, and other neutral data, much like what pharmaceutical companies or medical professionals provide.
Under this practice, the DEA’s need to track and verify would remain satisfied. Upon exchange of the attestation, the DEA should release the sacrament to the applicant. If the DEA has doubts, it then can refer cases to the US Department of Justice for its exercise of proper discretion, including possible investigation. If things are found inaccurate from the attestation, USDOJ would remain free to charge the parties involved (plus charge a bonus felony for the false attestation). Such an arrangement would keep the DEA out of religion, while still enabling the agency to function. Plus, attestation is a far less restrictive means than the DEA’s current policy of wholesale refusal.
A simple attestation policy (coupled with the DEA’s normal investigatory functions) is what RFRA requires—a burden on the government, not on the religion. Such a practice follows the proper flow of a RFRA analysis: It presupposes religious practice, places the burden on the government to prove otherwise, protects the individual religious right even during the investigation, and only resolves in favor of the government if the government proves its case as RFRA requires.
Will Soul Quest or any other psychedelic religious group argue these points to a court engaged in reviewing DEA policy? We will have to wait to see. Since there are a few psychedelic religion cases pending in various US courts at the moment, perhaps the time is coming.
“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”
-C.G. Jung
This is the first article in a series called Psychedelics in Depth, in which we will explore the many ways that depth and Jungian psychology intersect with the many multicolored permutations of the psychedelic experience.
Our intention is to provide readers with a foundational understanding of the depth psychological tradition, define important terms like shadow or archetype, and explore how this way of interfacing with the psyche can inform psychedelic work for both facilitators and psychonauts alike.
There is a high likelihood we may encounter a mythical beast or two along the way as well. Thanks for being here. Onwards.
When you think about psychology, what images come to mind? A person laying down on a couch, talking about their mother? A man with a thick European accent, cryptically jotting down someone’s dreams? Ink blot tests? Cigars?
Believe it or not, all of these clichés come from the tradition of depth psychology. Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, who’s work we will examine later, were both depth psychologists. But before we get any further, let’s take the advice given to young Alice during her first bleary steps into Wonderland, and begin at the beginning.
What Is Depth Psychology?
Traditionally, depth psychology was any method of psychoanalytic work which focused on the unconscious. Today, the term “depth” is often used as a shorthand for the various permutations of thought influenced by Carl Jung, which can include everything from mythology, to archetypal astrology, to Internal Family Systems Therapy.
Despite Jung’s enduring association with the term, “depth psychology” was actually coined in the early 20th century by one of his colleagues, the Swiss psychoanalyst Eugen Bleuler, who also coined the term schizophrenia.
Depth psychology differs from other schools of psychology (behavioral, cognitive, humanistic, etc.) in that it takes the unconsciousas the primary driving force on our behaviors and emotions. Because it is itself unconscious, the unconscious cannot be known by our usual, logical, and rational ways of “knowing.”
Therefore, depth psychology employs the use of symbols, images, and metaphors to translate the language of the psyche, which historically was approached through dreams and patterns in mythology. Working with myth is one of the hallmarks of the “depth approach,” and clearly distinguishes this field of psychology from others.
Yet it is important to remember that in depth psychology, symbols and images are always used to describe something “as if,” and not as literal representations. This is one of the most important tenets of depth psychology: Images and symbols are used by the psyche to reference something deeper and likely unknown, yet something that our psyche yearns for us to discover. In true depth psychology, there is always space for the unknown.
The etymological roots of the word psychology can be understood as “the way into” or “the study of the soul.” Depth psychology emphasizes this ineffable notion of the soul, and continually places this unknowable facet of the human experience at its core. What this means in practical terms is a focus on the most important and vexing issues which have accompanied humanity since the dawn of time: birth, death, love, loss, mystery, purpose, growth, decay, and the meaning of it all. The very things which make us human.
Who Is Carl Jung?
Carl Gustav (C.G.) Jung (1875-1961) was a Swiss psychiatrist who helped shape psychology into the discipline we know today. His method of understanding the psyche, which he termed analytical psychology, forms what is now popularly called “Jungian psychology.”
For many years, Jung was slated to become Sigmund Freud’s “crowned prince” and protege, but their paths diverged in 1912 over disagreements as to the reality of the ‘collective unconscious,’ which Frued summarily rejected. Jung’s insistence that there is an ancient, unknowable, species-wide repository of psychic information which informs the human experience flew in the face of Freud’s increasingly dogmatic theories, which focused on sex and pleasure as the driving forces behind all human behavior.
This break led Jung into a long period of introspection which he termed his “confrontation with the unconscious,” during which he delved deep into his own psyche and imagination. Eventually, this process resulted in his detailed map and terminology of the psyche, his practice of active imagination, as well as The Red Book, and the recently published, Black Books.
Jung employed a variety of terms to describe his understanding of the psyche and all of the mysterious dynamics he observed within his patients (especially those suffering from severe schizophrenia), and within himself. Concepts such as the collective unconscious, archetypes, the shadow, anima, synchronicity, individuation, and the Self, are all terms that Jung coined and wrote about extensively. They are also topics we discuss in our course that explores psychedelics and depth psychology, Imagination as Revelation: The Psychedelic Experience in the Light Jungian Psychology.
Yet again, it bears repeating that these terms are to be understood as mere symbols or points on a map, referring to places or dynamics within the psyche that our conscious mind struggles to grasp. Jung himself said, “Theories in psychology are the very devil. It is true that we need certain points of view for orienting… but they should always be regarded as mere auxiliary concepts that can be laid aside at any time.”
Depth Psychology and Popular Culture
While the mainstream psychological establishment has eschewed the work of Jung for many decades, his legacy informs our collective imagination and culture in profound ways, perhaps more than any other figure in the history of psychology.
Mythologist Joseph Campbell drew deeply from Jung’s work, and based many of his ideas of The Hero’s Journeyon Jung’s theories. George Lucas consulted with Campbell while creating Star Wars, arguably one of the most significant film series of all time. The poet Robert Bly mentions Jung throughout his book Iron John, which paved the way for the body of work that is now called “men’s work.” Jungian analyst and author Clarissa Pinkola Estes, in her enduring text, Women Who Run With the Wolves, worked directly with Jungian concepts to address aspects of the feminine psyche.
Any reference to ‘archetypes’ or something being ‘archetypal’ plainly invokes Jung and his work on these illusive, yet omnipresent patterns of being. The shadow, or ‘shadow work,’ which has become something of a buzzword in psychedelics in recent years, conjures Jung as well. We have a whole course that examines Jung’s concepts of the shadow, the difference between the ‘Golden’ and ‘Dark’ shadow, and other related issues called, Psychedelics and the Shadow: Exploring the Shadow Side of Psychedelia.
Similarly, Jung also coined the term ‘synchronicity,’ which could be defined as a meaningful coincidence, and was a phenomenon that captivated him for decades. Lastly, any reference to ‘the collective,’ harkens to Jung’s notions of the ‘collective unconscious,’ which is a foundational aspect of his psychological model, and which we’ll address in our next article in this “Psychedelics in Depth” series.
Despite all of these enduring contributions, Jung still remains somewhat of a marginal figure. There are a multitude of reasons for this, a major one being that his theories escape empirical measurement, and eventually lead one outside the rational-materialist worldview we now call “science.” Mention Jung’s name in most mainstream psychology degree programs and the odds are you will be met with skepticism.
Subversion and marginality have arguably always been at the core of depth psychology. Dreams themselves exist at the margins of our consciousness, and can often direct our attention to marginal areas of our psyche which we would rather not see. Concepts such as the anima/animus, which imply that every male has inside him a female soul (and vice-versa), directly subverts our culture’s basic understanding of gender. Archetypes reveal to us that our personal life story is not a unique, singular event, but rather, connected to a greater chain of human experiences.
Lastly, depth psychology’s pervasive insistence on the reality of the soul can be seen as a revolutionary act within a culture that seeks to actively deny the very existence of such a thing. The consequences of this denial can be seen within every great historical, interpersonal, and environmental tragedy perpetrated upon people and the planet across time.
Therefore, the significance of depth psychology extends far beyond the confines of the therapists’ office or the university lecture hall, and stretches out into the old growth forests, indigenous communities, and inner cities across the world.
Depth psychology is not just a school of psychology, but a lens through which to intimately perceive and meaningfully engage with the wider world.
Depth Psychology and Psychedelics
Depth psychology offers an immensely useful framework for approaching psychedelic work, both as a facilitator and a psychonaut. Stanislav Grof, pioneer of psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy and transpersonal psychology and one of our biggest influences here at Psychedelics Today, described the role that psychedelics play as a psychic “abreactive,” meaning that they bring to the surface whatever unconscious material has the most emotional charge. Seen from this lens, psychedelics, which often work directly with unconscious material, could therefore be seen as part and parcel to the larger field of depth psychology.
Interpreting the variety of imagery and experiences that psychedelics can evoke can easily be aided by a grounding in basic depth psychology, especially understanding the interplay between image, archetypes, and complexes. Facing and integrating one’s shadow is a central aspect of both Jung’s work and using the psychedelic experience for personal growth and healing.
Many worthwhile books have been written on the interplay between psychedelics and depth psychology, including Grof’s body of work, Confrontation with the Unconscious, and much of the work by Ann Shulgin,Timothy Leary and Ralph Metzner. Yet the interplay between depth psychology and psychedelics offers immense potential in the realms of research, therapeutic methodology, and integration—more so than I believe has been fully realized.
The history of psychedelic research is almost inseparable from the tradition of depth psychology. Stanislav Grof, mentioned above, as well as other early psychedelic researchers, approached their work from a depth psychological lens. Because of certain cultural shifts over the 20th century, current psychedelic research prioritizes quantitative and statistical analysis which can often overlook the highly personal and emotional aspects of the psychedelic experience.
Yet, depth psychology requires us to return to the real, troublesome, subjective experiences of the individual as its primary territory of work, and for this reason offers one of the most valuable lenses from which to view the psychedelic experience. Because, just like human beings, no two psychedelic journeys are alike, since they are in essence reflections of the multifaceted and endlessly mysterious inner world of the brave souls who dare to explore their own uncharted depths.
About the Author
Simon Yugler is a depth and psychedelic integration therapist based in Portland, OR with a masters (MA) in depth counseling psychology from Pacifica Graduate Institute. Weaving Jungian psychology, Internal Family Systems therapy, and mythology, Simon also draws on his diverse experiences learning from indigenous cultures around the world, including the Shipibo ayahuasca tradition. He has a background in experiential education, and has led immersive international journeys for young adults across 10 countries. He is passionate about initiation, men’s work, indigenous rights, decolonization, and helping his clients explore the liminal wilds of the soul. Find out more on his website and on Instagram , Twitter (@depth_medicine) or Facebook.
About the Illustrator
Martin Clarke is a British Designer and Illustrator from Nottingham, England. Specializing in branding, marketing and visual communication, Martin excels at creating bespoke brand identities and striking visual content across multiple platforms for web, social media, print and packaging. See more of his work here.
How do you draw the line between a healthy escape and a dissociative disorder? And could dissociative psychedelics like ketamine play a part?
We live in a deeply interconnected world. From our ecosystems to our societies, the Earth is made up of living things held in dynamic relationships. We as humans are deeply woven into this fabric. But sometimes, all this connection can be too much to hold. Whether from acute trauma, overstimulation, or constant societal stress, our bodies have built-in intelligence that allows us to dissociate or disconnect from our current experience when we’ve reached our saturation point.
On the heels of the COVID-19 pandemic, the question of how we cope with and heal from traumatic experiences has been front of mind. I spoke with somatic practitioner, Claudia Cuentas, MA, MFT, and Psy.D., psychologist, ketamine specialist and founder of KRIYA (Ketamine Research Institute), Raquel Bennett, to discuss the psychology of dissociation, what happens when it becomes a disorder, the healing power of escapism, and where psychedelics like ketamine fit into the conversation.
Raquel Bennett, who has been studying therapeutic ketamine since 2002 and who teaches the Masterclass on Ketamine in our Navigating Psychedelics for Clinicians and Therapists course, put it this way: “There are different kinds of dissociation or disconnection, including dissociation from your body or bodily sensations; dissociation from your thoughts or awareness; and dissociation from your biographical history, identity, or sense of self.”
Claudia Cuentas explained it another way. “Dissociation is a physiological self protective response, and it is activated when the body feels saturated or overwhelmed by an input or by too much information at once. That information can come from an internal or external stimulus. Dissociation is our bodies’ ability to remove its attention from the present and take a break, pause and/or, hopefully, recalibrate back into presence. Children do it all the time. That gazing and daydreaming is self-regulating. It is an amazing regulatory system we have.”
While they may look the same from the outside, many experts say that dissociation is different from absent mindedness. Many of us can relate to driving home and not remembering the drive, or checking out during a meeting because we are distracted by something going on in our personal lives. Dissociation is a common experience, and not necessarily a cause for concern. The question is: Is dissociation or the dissociation patterns you have developed to cope with internal/external stressors interrupting your ability to enjoy life?
On top of this, the pressures of modern life can almost be too much to bear at times. We are inundated with unlimited newsfeeds and chaotic information overload in a way that no generation has ever been. What are embodied creatures like us meant to do with the realities of systemic injustice, climate catastrophe, and economic collapse, on top of personal concerns like relationships, mortgages, and health issues?
In response to these pressures, we’ve normalized a culture of disconnection. Checking out of life may become a habitual way of coping with the strain of daily life: binge watching TV or scrolling on social media. Gaming out. Numbing with drugs or alcohol. Swiping on Tinder. These are activities that put us in passive roles and don’t require our engaged presence or participation.
Tuning out itself isn’t necessarily problematic. When it comes as a response to overstimulation, it serves a purpose and then the person can return to present awareness naturally when they feel ready. However, this disconnection can sometimes happen involuntarily or becomes a default way of moving through life. Often, chronic dissociation comes as a result of acute or ongoing trauma.
For people living with dissociative states, this disconnection from one’s body, mind, emotions or identity can be distressing and have a major impact on relationships and quality of life. They may experience depersonalization (feeling as though they don’t control their body, thoughts or emotions) or derealization (a disruption in one’s perception of reality, as though the world is unreal, hazy or flat).
Dissociation can show up in a lot of ways: tuning out during a difficult conversation, personality changes, forgetting major memories or stretches of time, difficulty staying present during sex, or feeling unaware of one’s own body. Sometimes these episodes begin in response to overstimulation or an event that triggers traumatic memory or association.
I asked Cuentas how these disorders happen, and how they might be addressed.
“At times, we may feel that life is not that safe or that the present is not that safe. This is especially true when there has not been an ability to heal, digest and process past trauma and understand why an experience was so frightening or difficult. People don’t want to feel present because if they do, they will be overwhelmed by sensations associated with pain, sadness, overwhelm. The body sends a signal to the brain through the nervous system, and the brain and/orr the body disconnect from the present reality. So the mind says, I am going to release attention from the whole system so that you are here… but not here. I am going to keep you safe.. This way, you don’t have to feel the pain you have gone through.”
“Dissociative diagnoses arise when we are using this way of coping as an unconscious default,” she adds. “Sometimes people struggle because they aren’t feeling like themselves. Maybe everything is numb. Or they feel like they are witnessing a facade of somebody else. Most of the time, dissociative diagnoses are connected to intense, deep, unaddressed trauma from very early on stages of life.”
This questionnaire is a useful tool for distinguishing between normal and problematic dissociative experiences.
Could Somatic Practices & Dissociative Drugs Like Ketamine Be The Path Back?
According to Cuentas, the way to alleviate dissociative disorders is to increase one’s tolerance over time for sensations that may be uncomfortable or overwhelming, essentially moving through the trauma at a pace that’s comfortable and tolerable to the individual.
“We have to get beyond this self-protection mechanism that kicks in automatically. So how do we decode the experience to relieve the body from the automatic response in order to enjoy the present? If you keep unconsciously self protecting to not feel the pain, then you’re missing everything– joy, love, intimacy, all your senses. You turn off your ability to sense comfortable or uncomfortable experiences, like enjoying a sky full of colors, feeling the softness of your skin, hearing a song and go, ‘wow, I like that’. It’s numbing, and the person may not, at times, even realize.”
Finding pleasurable ways to exist in one’s body is an essential part of processing, healing, and moving through trauma. Many trauma therapists work with a particular focus on the body, known as “somatic” practices. This is essential because, although the mind can check in and out through dissociation, the body carries the load of a lifetime of experiences. Cuentas’ work focuses on the use of embodied approaches, like art, dance, music, drama and storytelling as healing modalities for families and communities.
Psychedelic substances may offer another path to doing this work. Part of the theory around why psychedelics help with trauma is related to capacity building. By promoting states of openness, they create opportunities for people to re-engage with painful or traumatic experiences and form new relationships to these memories.
Psilocybin and MDMA have received the most press in recent years, but ketamine has held a steady role as one of the only legal psychedelics clinicians can currently offer. It’s common to hear people speak about ketamine as a dissociative. I asked Bennett her thoughts on this classification.
“When you take ketamine, you may be dissociated from your body; in other words, the signals from your sensory input organs may be temporarily muted,” she says. “However, when ketamine is utilized in a physically and psychologically safe setting, people tend to be keenly aware of or connected with their own thoughts and internal images.”
The dissociation felt with ketamine is more physiological than psychological. I asked Cuentas to expand upon this. She explained that, based on a somatic perspective, it seems like ketamine temporarily disconnects the body and the mind, whereas the coping mechanism of dissociation can often disconnect people from their own consciousness as well.
“Seems like Ketamine can turn the body off so the mind doesn’t have to negotiate how to to keep the body safe or what to do with the body’s intense signals of stress, which are common during or after traumatic experiences,” says Cuentas. “So for a period of time, it may not have to navigate the usual intensity and discomfort. If this happens, the mind is released from its usual concerns/stressors, and its attention can possibly concentrate on other sensations or realms of awareness.”
“As the body experiences numbness or dissociation, it is still tracking the experience, but not reacting. When a body is affected by an anesthetic like Ketamine for therapeutic uses, it will put the body in a highly suggestible state,” Cuentas adds. “From a somatic perspective, there is a window of time as a person is coming back to feeling their body again— that is the moment of doing a lot of processing. I believe this is possibly the most effective way to work with ketamine. Whatever happens in this window of reconnection between unconsciousness and consciousness or body awareness, will be recorded in the body. You would have to be intentional because whatever you introduce in that state can have a great impact on your psyche.”
Feeling good is an essential part of our healing.
Returning To Safety From Dissociative Disorders
Dissociation is the human body’s way of trying to achieve safety. As we are unlearning automatic responses that don’t serve us, the need for a sense of safety is still present. How do we develop a sense of safety within ourselves when we can’t guarantee it in our external environment? Therapists refer to resourcing—tools that help people develop a higher tolerance for discomfort. In this way, we can stay in the present moment longer without needing to dissociate.
Especially for people from marginalized communities, creating microcosms of safety, even temporary ones, can be essential practice for dealing with life. These pods of comfort can come from affinity spaces, keeping a close inner circle, getting immersed in something you love, and for some people, exploring altered states.
In pursuit of safety, a natural response to triggering scenarios is to remove oneself from further harm. However, safety can’t necessarily be achieved in a societal context which is inherently unsafe for many people in our communities. Some people may feel they always have to be shut down or running to escape harm. For these folks, there is an even greater need for networks of support and practical tools that grow the ability to stay present. It can be empowering and freeing to stay present through a practice of pleasure, feeling the body’s sensations, and finding what feels positive and safe in the here and now.
When Dissociation Can Be a Positive
For those of us not dealing with chronic dissociation, the question to ask is whether we are habitually checking out from the present moment and if so, what shifts in these habits might help us have a more fulfilling quality of life. Perhaps instead of relying on screens or substances to wind down, we could incorporate activities that invite pleasurable presence: music, dance, breath work, meditation, meals, or the company of a loved one. It helps to view this as something to practice, rather than something to be good or bad at.
On the other hand, escapism isn’t always a bad thing. There is agency in choosing when and how to turn off the outside world for a while. In order to absorb the benefits of this freedom, dissociating needs to be something that is consciously chosen, rather than an automatic stress based response.
In some ways, escapism is a combination of dissociation and resourcing. Tuning out on purpose, or even altering one’s perception, can offer a healthy way to find rest and recovery from the concerns of daily life. It can also help us to remember what it is like to feel good and build capacity for pleasure. Feeling good is an essential part of our healing.
Grammy nominated singer Jhené Aiko often writes songs about the use of cannabis and psychedelics as medicine. As a mixed race woman of color, she poetically contrasts the peaceful haze of altered states and the harsh realities of the world outside.
She says it well in her hit, “Tryna Smoke”:
Life’s no fairytale, I know all too well/ Gotta plant the seed sometimes /Then you let it grow
Inhale, exhale some more/ Heaven in Hell/ If you know, you know/ That sh*t is beautiful
You gotta just let it go/ Spark up a blunt and smoke
Similarly, in her song “Bed Peace”, featuring Childish Gambino, she sings:
Yeah, what I am trying to say is/ That love is ours to make so we should make it
Everything else can wait/ The time is ours to take so we should take it
We should stay right here/ We should lay right here’Cause everything is okay right here
Conclusion: Dissociation Is Complex
Dissociation is multifaceted. It can signal trauma, offer temporary respite from trauma, and potentially even a path to healing trauma.
Altered states of consciousness, whether from known dissociatives like ketamine, or other substances, give us an opportunity to choose when and how to leave our physical realms and return. They shift our awareness of our spirits, minds and bodies, and often create pleasurable sensations and new insights along the way.
Cuentas closes our conversation by reminding me that the intentions we bring to these experiences are important. “You are recording information in your subconscious/psyche. So what do you want to put there?” she asks.
We can’t necessarily make the world safer today. So there is power in creating microcosms of the world we are dreaming forward. In creating a practice of pleasure and joy, we’re able to fill our spirits like a well to draw upon during difficult experiences. Perhaps eventually, as these micro-moments of safety and resourcing find their way into our embodied realities, they will spread like mycelium and we will create a world that is less traumatizing to begin with.
This article was updated on July 19, 2021 to reflect changes by one of the sources.
Rebecca Martinez is a Xicana writer, parent and community organizer born and raised in Portland, Oregon. She is a co-founder of the Fruiting Bodies Collective, an advocacy group, podcast and multimedia platform addressing the intersections between healing justice and the psychedelics movement. Rebecca served as the Event & Volunteer Coordinator for the successful Measure 109 campaign, an unprecedented state initiative which creates a legal framework for psilocybin therapy in Oregon. She is also the author of Edge Play: Tales From a Quarter Life Crisis, a memoir about psychedelic healing after family trauma, spiritual abuse, and police violence. She serves on the Health Equity Subcommittee for Oregon’s Psilocybin Advisory Board as well as the Board of Advisors for the Plant Medicine Healing Alliance.
Keeno Ahmed-Jones shares her experience trying to instill anti-racism values at a major psychedelics institution, and how difficult it proved to be.
As progressive and inclusive as the psychedelic renaissance purports itself to be, there are continuing issues around understanding, respecting, and making efforts to expand equity and inclusion in psychedelic spaces. Without an honest recognition of how systemic issues are manifesting in the burgeoning psychedelic industry, the psychedelic renaissance will inevitably fail to help our world heal from painful, ongoing social injustices.
In October of 2020, MAPS Canada became the subject of these issues when an Open Letter and Call to Action was published. The authors, Keeno Ahmed-Jones and Ava Daeipour, detailed their efforts to help MAPS Canada implement ethical, socially conscious and culturally sensitive policies and move towards equitable access to psychedelics. These efforts were subsequently obstructed by the organization.
In this interview, we hear from Keeno Ahmed-Jones about her experiences that led to the Open Letter and Call to Action. She shares details of her professional background in education advocacy and policy work, and how it helped inform her endeavors at MAPS Canada.
*Note to reader: This interview took place in March of 2021. In the weeks that followed, a second Open Letter was written addressing further issues with the MAPS Canada board. In the past three months, three members of MAPS Canada’s board have resigned.
Sean Lawlor: Can you describe how you came to work for MAPS Canada?
Keeno Ahmed-Jones: I moved to Canada in 2018, after being in New York for over 20 years. My professional background is in K-12 and adult education; I’ve worked in public service for a long time, including for major governmental organizations. My first exposure to systemic stratification in the context of educational opportunities was during my tenure at the New York City Department of Education, which, at the time, served 1.2 million school-aged students. I then served for several years advising the Board of Regents and leadership at the New York State Department of Education on programs and policies for adults and out-of-school youth. When I came to Vancouver, my birthplace, I knew of the research that MAPS was doing on MDMA, saw there was a chapter here, and was interested in seeing how I could contribute to their efforts as a volunteer.
Given my background, I started volunteering on the policy committee, but when I saw that they were well situated, I asked if there was a diversity committee. One thing that was very notable to me upon attending the first general volunteer meeting was the lack of people of color in attendance; out of the 40-plus people there, I was one of three in the room from a racialized background. And so, when I found out that there wasn’t an active diversity committee, I started one, which I co-led with another woman, Ava Daeipour, who ended up helping me write the open letter and call to action sent to MAPS Canada. The letter brought into high relief a lot of the issues that I think are endemic not only for MAPS Canada as an organization, but really… you hear the term “psychedelic renaissance” bandied around, and I think that psychedelic renaissance really needs to raise the bar, based on my experiences at least.
SL: Specifically in terms of diversity?
KAJ: Diversity is one element. But beyond that, I think MAPS Canada really had the opportunity to become an exemplar of an organization and, unfortunately, instead of listening to people such as myself trying to inform and educate them on how to become a twenty-first century organization centered on anti-racist values, collective liberation, and the tenets of cultural humility, they really actively resisted that.
I understand their advocacy for psychedelics, but I think there is an essential question that MAPS Canada and other organizations in this space need to ask, which is beyond diversity. “Is the playing field equal?” Every organization, non-profit or not, loves to talk about “corporate social responsibility,” and publicly place those statements front and center, especially in the wake of Black Lives Matter and the gaping inequalities that came to the fore in 2020. The pandemic illuminated a wide chasm that exists between the haves and the have-nots. And the murder of George Floyd compounded that reality into vivid detail for a lot of people that didn’t understand the traumas that people of color have had to endure—and I want to specifically forefront Black and Indigenous folks who have lived under the yoke of that oppression in North America.
But, beyond the logistical hurdles around regulatory frameworks and proselytizing about legalizing psychedelics—and I do understand the passion and advocacy for that—when it comes to eventual access to these novel MDMA and other psychedelic treatments, some key questions need to be answered. Who’s going to be first in line to receive these treatments? Who’s going to be administering them? Who’s going to be doing the integration work? I’ll venture to guess that the clinic up the street from my old office in New York City charging $4000 for a course of ketamine sessions is not within reach for the vast majority of people.
SL: For folks who are less familiar with the situation, would you be willing to share more about what happened at MAPS Canada, and your experience in the wake of the open letter?
KAJ: I came to my volunteer role from a background where my work was mediated via a policy lens, with a lot of value placed on collaborative and community-based approaches. Gaining diverse perspectives and working within a framework that ensured equity and inclusion was critical because in my work, decisions had the power to materially impact very marginalized people who were already struggling and in need of fierce advocates. And one of the things I came to value through those experiences was being on the ground with people knee-deep in those efforts, including people living those stories of struggle. I find that kind of work not just a calling, but a privilege.
At MAPS Canada, I did not see those conversations happening, frankly—internally or externally. There seemed to be no interest nor engagement. So, one of the things that I started to advocate for early on was introducing a JEDI (Justice, Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion) framework, and talking about collective liberation—which were both in various stages of implementation at MAPS in the US, so I thought that both would be relatively easy to adopt. But I was basically told: hold the phone; we are not about collective liberation, and MAPS Canada is not a “save the whales” organization. It was incredible to hear someone actually say that to my face.
After living in New York City, I think I had a bit of a mythologized vision of what life would be like in Canada, to be in a community that I thought had a better, more compassionate understanding of racism and colonialism. And I quickly found that was very much not the case. Rather, it’s been more problematic, because a lot of people are under the delusion that Canada is a post-racial society. Of course, that myth is quickly debunked if you look around, whether that’s at the overrepresentation of Blacks in the prison population, the deplorable treatment of First Nations in the healthcare system, racial inequities in school suspensions, police surveillance, wage inequities, I could go on.
So, while MAPS Canada released quasi-apologetic statements after the open letter came out about having limited staff, and claims about suffering from the affliction of being white with blind spots, and so on [Psychedelics Today tried to find the links to these statements but could not]… a huge part of what occurred, and what is happening across the psychedelic domain, comes down to worldview. It’s a values decision. And, as far as boardrooms of nonprofits and for profits, white voices, most of them male, are what is valued.
And so, instead of true coalition building, stepping down from that pedestal to engage in critical dialogue around equity, access, and reciprocity, there’s a Gollum effect taking place, a sort of metastasizing hunger for the psychedelic gold ring, if you will. There are the pandemic Instagram photos of these same folks in Costa Rica scoping out places for retreat centers, or multinational corporations looking for real estate in the downtown eastside of Vancouver to open for-profit clinics.
Photo provided by Keeno Ahmed-Jones.
SL: Thank you for sharing all that. Once you put out the open letter, was there any change or acknowledgement? I know there was a lot of exposure around it, but do you feel that it was heard?
KAJ: Well, materially, has there been any change? Not to my knowledge. I know that a lot of declarations have been made, not only from MAPS Canada, but other organizations in this space that are adjacent to MAPS Canada. I feel like when an organization goes through a bit of a public relations debacle, like MAPS Canada did, the propensity is to do damage control. And when you have an all-white board, for example, attempts are made to diversify that board. But just because you now have a brown or black face on your board, that doesn’t really mean anything. The proof is in the pudding, as they say.
I think there needs to be a radical reimagining of what this “psychedelic renaissance” looks like. Many of these organizations have constructed these top-down, colonial projects with extractive ideologies, have conflicts of interest and undisclosed public/private partnerships, and lack accountability and transparency. Those are major concerns that need to be addressed first and foremost, prior to thinking about whether your organization is diverse enough.
SL: So, the open letter was published in October 2020; what has your focus been? Are you still working in this psychedelic renaissance?
KAJ: I am, and thank you for asking that question. A lot of people have asked me that. I think one of the most brilliant things about the open letter was the support it received from all around the world—including Indigenous activists in Canada, the US, and the Global South. I’ve been in conversation with some of them, including in Canada, who shared their interactions with people in leadership at MAPS before and had less than stellar experiences, and so just did not want to engage.
I do have a project that’s in motion, which I hope to share soon, interwoven with the themes of psychedelics, social justice, mental health, and drug policy. And I am working with grassroots activists, practitioners, and other bright lights in the space envisioning sustainable models of self-determination and new ethical frameworks.
SL: I look forward to this project when the time comes to announce it. Last thing I want to ask: As you can probably tell, I am a white person working in the psychedelic field, and I want to keep getting more involved. Looking at the reality that there is a disproportionate amount of white people in this work, what would you suggest white folks in this movement do in order to help change these issues?
KAJ: I love that question and think it’s a good one. Taking the step to educate myself has always been a core tenet of my approach and what I recommend to others. There are so many resources out there on anti-racism. Read books about the colonization and history of the Americas authored by Black and Indigenous authors. Examine issues around white fragility. I think those are solid building blocks.
Being able to sit in that container of self-examination is really important—apart from the psychedelic journeys—because I think a lot of people go to that as a shortcut. But entheogens are not an antidote for racism. MDMA is not some sort of cosmic equalizer.
I think we need to think more holistically about understanding privilege, being in community, and doing a lot of listening. “Why is this space not more diverse?” I think that’s a huge question in these spaces. Why are the people attending these community meetings not representative of this city I live in? Is there something unwelcoming about this space?
I think it has to be a slow, gradual approach. It’s not going to happen overnight. There needs to be trust-building, community-building, and a lot of listening. That really takes time, intention, and effort, and I think it begins with an in-depth examination of privilege. These are deep assumptions and beliefs that people have held onto that have to be challenged.
Psychedelics Today reached out to MAPS Canada for a comment on how the organization has been moving forward since the Open Letters were published and the work (if any) that it is doing to be a more inclusive institution. Their Board Chair, Eesmyal Santos-Brault, provided us with this statement:
MAPS Canada has made significant changes in the past six months to its leadership, board of directors, governance, accountability reporting, and operational structure, and this work is ongoing. As part of this, we are undertaking the work of creating new codes of conduct, ethics, and practice for all current and future board members, staff, and volunteers. Our current diversity committee, which consists of eight volunteer members (all of whom represent a wide spectrum in terms of age, and self-defined gender, sexual orientation, ethnic background, racial identification, indigeneity, spiritual beliefs, ability, and more) are leading MAPS Canada’s work to articulate and embed our commitment to equity, justice, diversity, inclusion, and reconciliation within the structures of our organization and all that we do, beginning with a new Terms of Reference drafted by the committee in November, 2020. This work is ongoing, and we look forward to sharing our progress in these areas with all stakeholders and the public in the coming weeks and months.
This piece was updated on July 28, 2021. In the original article it said that three members of the MAPS Canada Board had resigned in the past two months, it has been changed to three months.
Sean Lawlor is a writer, certified personal trainer, and Masters student in Transpersonal Counseling at Naropa University, in pursuit of a career in psychedelic journalism, research, and therapy. His interest in consciousness and non-ordinary states owes great debt to Aldous Huxley, Ken Kesey, and Hunter S. Thompson, and his passion for film, literature, and dreaming draws endless inspiration from Carl Jung, David Lynch, and J.K. Rowling. For more information or to get in touch, head to seanplawlor.com, or connect on Instagram @seanplawlor.
Defining transpersonal psychology, exploring its history, and examining how it relates to psychedelic experiences.
Transpersonal psychology, the branch of psychology that concerns itself with the study of spiritual experience and expanded states of consciousness, has often been excluded from traditional psychology programs. However, as we traverse the reaches of the psychedelic renaissance and interest in the healing potential of non-ordinary states of consciousness continues to grow, understanding transpersonal psychology is of growing importance.
What Is Transpersonal Psychology?
Sometimes transpersonal psychology is referred to as “spiritual psychology” or “the psychology of spirituality” in that it is the branch of psychology that concerns itself with the domain of human experience that is not limited to ordinary, waking consciousness, transcending our typically defined ego-boundaries. As a discipline, transpersonal psychology honors the existence and latent wisdom contained within non-ordinary experiences, concerning itself with unravelling the implications of their meaning for the individual, but also for the greater whole. It attempts to combine age-old insights from ancient wisdom traditions with modern Western psychology, trying to encapsulate the full spectrum of the human psyche.
Prior to the inception of transpersonal psychology, the idea that psychologists should study spirituality was unheard of. Compared with traditional psychological approaches, transpersonal psychology takes a non-pathologizing approach to spiritual experience and non-ordinary states of consciousness.
Reflecting on the origins of the discipline, psychedelic researcher and author, Dr. James Fadiman, offers, “Transpersonal psychology, in its simplest definition, is concerned with understanding the full scope of consciousness, primarily within the human species, but not limited to that which can be described easily by Western science, religious or mystical traditions, nor by Indigenous categorizations.”
“Unlike the rest of psychology, it has not attempted to use the trappings of scientific method to make it more acceptable,” Fadiman adds. “As a result, it has often been identified pejoratively as part of the “new age” counterculture, since it freely investigated states of consciousness and approaches to personal growth and development that were not being looked at by the other psychologies.”
Although Fadiman is generally more well-known for his pioneering work in microdosing, he was one of the prominent figures in shaping the early transpersonal movement. Together with psychologist Robert Frager, Fadiman co-founded the Institute of Transpersonal Psychology in 1975, now known as Sofia University.
Transpersonal psychology was formally launched in 1971 by psychologists Abraham Maslow and Anthony Sutich. It emerged as a “Fourth Force” within psychology, with the other three forces being cognitive behaviorism, psychoanalytic/Freudian psychology, and humanistic psychology.
In the 1950s, American psychology was dominated by the schools of cognitive behaviorism and Freudian psychology, however, many felt that these approaches to understanding the human psyche were limited and this growing dissatisfaction led to the birth of humanistic psychology. Humanistic psychology was closely linked to the transpersonal movement in that it was also founded by Maslow and many of the same individuals.
No longer a psychology of psychopathology, humanistic psychology concerned itself with the study of healthy individuals, focusing on human growth and potential. One of Maslow’s main qualms with behaviorism was the limitation of applying animal models to human behavior as this approach would only serve to illuminate the functions that we share with given animals. As such, he felt that behaviorism did not serve to enhance our understanding of the higher functions of our consciousness such as love, freedom, art, and beyond. Additionally, Maslow felt Freudian psychoanalysis was lacking due to its tendency to reduce the psyche to instinctual drives and draw on models of psychopathology.
Humanistic psychology attempted to take a holistic approach to human existence, concerning itself with self-actualization and the growth of love, fulfillment, and autonomy in individuals. Despite the popularity of the discipline, and the new “Human Potential Movement” that spawned around it, Maslow and others felt that there were some critical aspects lacking in humanistic psychology. Namely, the acknowledgement of the role of spirituality in people’s lives.
In 1967, a working group including the likes of Abraham Maslow, Anthony Sutich, Stanislav Grof, James Fadiman, Miles Vich, and Sonya Margulies met in Menlo Park, California with the aim of developing a new psychology that encapsulated the full spectrum of human experience, including non-ordinary states of consciousness. In this discussion, Stanislav Grof suggested the new discipline or Fourth Force should be called “transpersonal psychology.” Thereafter, the Journal of Transpersonal Psychology was launched in 1969, and the Association of Transpersonal Psychology was founded in 1972.
Despite the formal beginnings of transpersonal psychology in the middle of the twentieth century, the movement has its conceptual roots in the early work of William James and Carl Jung, psychologists who were mutually interested in the spiritual reaches of the human psyche. Touching upon the relevance of Jung’s contributions to the field in his book Beyond the Brain, Dr. Stanislav Grof, one of the founding fathers of transpersonal psychology and pioneer in the field of psychedelic research, described Jung as, “The first representative of the transpersonal orientation in psychology.”
William James, father of American psychology, is also perceived to be one of the founders of modern transpersonal thought, making the first recorded use of the term “trans-personal” in a 1905 lecture. However, James’ use of the term was more narrow than the way it is used today. Not only did James’ philosophy contribute to the development of transpersonal psychology, his early experimentations with psychoactive substances, in particular nitrous oxide, have also added substantially to the psychology of mystical experiences and the scientific study of consciousness.
Reflecting on his experience in The Varieties of Religious Experience, James wrote, “Our normal waking consciousness, rational consciousness as we call it, is but one special type of consciousness, whilst all about it, parted from it by the filmiest of screens, there lie potential forms of consciousness entirely different.” It is these very forms of “entirely different” consciousness that transpersonal psychology concerns itself with.
Understanding the Nature of Transpersonal Experience
The term transpersonal literally means beyond (trans) the personal, and as such, transpersonal experiences are those which serve to evaporate and transcend our ordinary, waking consciousness. Although transpersonal experiences are sometimes induced spontaneously, they can also be brought on by contact with nature, engaging in contemplative practices like meditation, sex, music, and even by difficult psychological experiences. They can take place in a variety of forms, whether it be a spontaneously induced mystical state, out-of-body or near-death experience, a unitative state elicited by psychedelics, or even an alien encounter experience.
Transpersonal experiences are inherently transformative in that they usually serve to broaden our self-conception, often providing us with a broader cosmological perspective. Take for example, the experience of ego death, or ego-dissolution as it is referred to in the scientific literature, a type of transpersonal experience that can be triggered by the use of psychedelics. In the ego death experience, the ordinary sense of self fades into an experience of unity with ultimate reality or “cosmic consciousness.”
Such experiences are both fearful and enlightening, but are thought to be one of the reasons why the psychedelic experience is so transformative for so many people. Viewed through the transpersonal lens, ego death tends to be understood as a beneficial, healing process in which an individual is able to let go of old ego structures that are no longer of service, making space for new, more integral ways of being.
Transpersonal experience is not limited to the world as we know it to exist in everyday reality. In a transpersonal experience, one might find themselves projected out of their body, viewing remote events in vivid detail or having encounters with entities from other dimensions. Describing the nature of such states in their book Spiritual Emergency, Stanislav Grof and the late Christina Grof, suggest that they include elements that western culture does not accept as objectively real, such as deities, demons, mythological figures, entities, and spirit guides. As such, they write, “In the transpersonal state, we do not differentiate between the world of “consensus reality”, or the conventional everyday world, and the mythological realm of archetypal forms.”
Such experiences facilitate a sense of harmony and meaning, connection and unity, and self-transcendence which are associated with positive effects such as heightened feelings of love and compassion. However, that is not to say that transpersonal states always have positive consequences, as they can also be incredibly destabilizing and have the ability to cause psychological distress, often referred to as a “spiritual emergenc(y)” in the transpersonal literature.
Science, as it stands today, is limited in its purview. Mainstream science and psychology is largely dominated by materialist approaches to consciousness and mental health. Within the materialist paradigm, matter is considered primary to consciousness, which is believed to be an accidental by-product of complex arrangements of matter. According to Fadiman, “The problem for mainstream psychology has been the unmeasurable core of transpersonal’s interest, namely, human consciousness.”
Fadiman suggests that mainstream psychology has become more and more “scientistic.” That is, it has become dogmatic in its belief that science and the materialist reductionist values that underlie it are the only way of objectively understanding reality. “Psychology is more concerned with statistical significance than personal utility, and its subject matter now includes a remarkable amount of research with animals, where their consciousness can be most easily ignored,” he shares.
Fadiman reflects that transpersonal psychology’s interest in the nature of consciousness and states of consciousness that extend beyond personal identity makes it “at its very best, the ugly stepsister that one leaves at home when going out to join material sciences parties.” Sharing an example of this, Fadiman pointed to the American Psychological Association’s refusal to grant accreditation to a transpersonal graduate school.
“This was not because of the quality of its dissertations which were rated quite highly or for the span and variety of its courses nor because of the financial status of the institution,” Fadiman continues. Rather, “It was turned down solely on the basis of its fundamental subject matter.” In essence, it boils down to the question of materialism, as many transpersonal psychologists believe in some form or another that consciousness cannot be explained by processes of the brain alone.
Almost all indigenous cultures who have used psychedelics for hundreds perhaps thousands of years report that as one’s consciousness expands beyond the perimeters of the identity, that there are other beings, other realms of existence which are met, often across cultures with identical descriptions.
—James Fadiman
Further, Grof describes the dominant scientific perspective as “ethnocentric” in that “it has been formulated and promoted by Western materialistic scientists, who consider their own perspective to be superior to that of any other human group at any time of history.” However, he suggests that transpersonal psychology, on the other hand, has made significant advances in remedying the ethnocentric biases of mainstream science through its cultural sensitivity towards the spiritual traditions of ancient and native cultures, the acknowledgement of the ontological reality of transpersonal experiences, and their value.
The Relevance of Transpersonal Psychology in the Psychedelic Renaissance
The resurgence of interest in the medical, psychological, and transformational benefits of psychedelics has naturally generated increased awareness of transpersonal states and their value for the health of the human psyche. When it comes to the study of spirituality and non-ordinary states of consciousness, transpersonal psychology has long paved the way, validating the veracity and psychological benefits of such states. As such, it offers itself as an important reservoir of knowledge when trying to understand the healing potentials of psychedelics within therapeutic contexts, but also when trying to understand their broader socio-cultural implications.
In spite of not being widely recognized, transpersonal psychology has long led the scientific endeavor to understand the totality of the human psyche through its embrace of non-ordinary states of consciousness that have hitherto been dismissed as “psychotic” or merely “hallucinations” by mainstream science. Fadiman explains that transpersonal psychology continues to take seriously and without judgment the results reported by individuals working with psychedelics. “For example, almost all indigenous cultures who have used psychedelics for hundreds perhaps thousands of years report that as one’s consciousness expands beyond the perimeters of the identity, that there are other beings, other realms of existence which are met, often across cultures with identical descriptions,” says Fadiman.
The conceptual frameworks of the dominant model are inadequate when it comes to understanding non-ordinary experiences, including those elicited by psychedelics. As such, Fadiman suggests that, “As we continue to develop more accurate maps of inner space, it is likely that transpersonal psychology, with its emphasis on subjective as well as objective observation will continue to play a prominent role.”
This article was updated on July 19, 2021 to correct the years the Journal of Transpersonal Psychology and Association of Transpersonal Psychology were founded.
About the Author
Jasmine Virdi is a freelance writer in the psychedelic space. Since 2018, she has been working for the fiercely independent publishing company Synergetic Press, where her passions for ecology, ethnobotany, and psychoactive substances converge. Jasmine has written for Psychedelics Today, Chacruna Institute for Plant Medicines, Lucid News, Cosmic Sister, Psychable, and Microdosing Guru. She is currently pursuing an MSc in Spirituality, Consciousness, and Transpersonal Psychology at the Alef Trust with the future aim of working as a psychedelic practitioner. Jasmine’s goal as an advocate for psychoactive substances is to raise awareness of the socio-historical context in which these substances emerged in order to help integrate them into our modern-day lives in a safe, ethically-integral, and meaningful way.
A review of The Nature of Drugs: History, Pharmacology, and Social Impact (Synergetic Press, 2021), a collection of eight lectures given by the “godfather of ecstasy” Dr. Alexander Shulgin.
And so begins one of the best classes you’ll ever take…
“Most of you have already been exposed to drugs, and most of you will personally decide if you wish to become exposed again in the future. The goal of this course is to provide specific information concerning drugs, as to their actions, their risks, and their virtues. And that’s really what my role is, I’m a seeker of truth. I’m trying to find out what’s there. I am not an advocate for nor an advocate against drug use. I have my own personal philosophies that have no business in here. You’ll find that I am quite sympathetic with a lot of drugs that people say are evil and bad. But in truth, I want you to have enough information that you can decide for yourself whether this is something that’s your cup of tea, quite literally caffeine, or whether it is something you wish to stay out of.
“I’m going to have a theme for this whole course called “warts and all.” Namely, what is known about drugs, what is to be found out about them, what do they smell like, what do they taste like, what are the goods, what are the bads. Why is it so bad to use drugs? Why is it occasionally so good to use drugs?”
—Alexander Shulgin, The Nature of Drugs: History, Pharmacology, and Social Impact
The Nature of Drugs: History, Pharmacology, and Social Impact by Alexander Shulgin is out now with Synergetic Press.
What’s beautiful about this work—a volume of the first eight lectures from Alexander “Shasha” Shulgin’s popular course on drugs at San Francisco State University—is that for those of us who never knew Sasha, or only saw him briefly, it’s a window into a beautiful soul. Like Robert Sapolsky, he’s one of those extraordinary teachers of science who brings so many layers to the experience of how science actually works. Through his anecdotes and asides, he does away with science as a function of perfect observers, removed from their subjects with ideal impartiality and presents a messy system of egos, funding priorities, ‘novelty’ and blind groping towards the Truth.
Many of us know Dr. Alexander Shulgin through the landmark books he wrote with his wife Ann, PIKHAL and TIKHAL, which are a mix of autobiography, love story, and drug syntheses. Even more of us know him through his beloved compound MDMA, which he popularized and made famous. But this book, The Nature of Drugs: History, Pharmacology, and Social Impact, shows another side: a teacher of phenomenal worth.
I’ve been studying drugs for twenty years, but Sasha Shulgin’s lectures to his students still gave me new insights on almost every page. He has a way of making the complexities of pharmacodynamics accessible by turning the human body into a bathtub. He talks about how the water gets filtered, how it goes down the drain, and how that makes a difference in the drugs you take. The understanding he imparts of how drugs work is invaluable.
But what feels so special is the glimpses you get of the alchemical man himself. In these lectures, occurring in the Year of our Reagan 1987, he makes clear his opposition to the War on Drugs. The students taking his course might not have expected a year-by-year rundown of the increasing crackdowns since 1980, but that’s what they learned. And if you sit yourself in their seat as you read this book, imagine being a student in Reagan’s Amerika learning about the Drug War from a white-haired chemist who admits in the first lecture, out of the 250 known psychedelic compounds, to have tried about 150 of them.
But he doesn’t look like Hunter S. Thompson. He looks like a tall kindly man with his pretty wife in the front row taking notes. He approaches chemistry as a ‘sacred art’. He rails against ‘holding laws’ that are simply used to hold people that the police don’t like the look of. He drops jokes constantly and calls his scribbled diagrams of molecules ‘dirty pictures’. I like to imagine myself in this classroom and I wonder if I would have been sharp enough to figure out that this was one of the greatest underground chemists of all time.
There’s a clue near the end, while he’s talking about his own history in industrial research and playing one of his imagination games with his students:
“Take, for example, how you define new sweetening agents, agents that you put in coffee that make coffee taste sweet. How would you go about finding them? It’s your job. You’re hired and you are working for Monsanto. “Find a new sweetening agent. We want to knock Nutrasweet off the market.” How are you going to find it? You’re right now at the nitty gritty of research; your task is to find a new sweetening agent. Here are our leads. Here are five materials that do cause sweet tastes, but this is too toxic, this has a bitter aftertaste, this one takes fifteen minutes to come on, this one causes cancer, and that one causes teratogenesis. We can’t use them. But we need one because we’re losing the market. Saccharine is not going to be available much longer. How do you find one?
“Well, my philosophy, that people would cringe at, is to put a damp finger into it and taste it. [Laughter.] That to me is the heart of how you find a sweetening agent. Well, what if it’s going to cause cancer of the jaw? Okay, then you come down with cancer of the jaw, but you’ve found a sweetening agent. [Laughter.] So you have risk and you have reward.”
This was the same method he used to test MDMA when he first synthesized it a decade before these lectures. Unfortunately, only three months earlier, the feds had banned MDMA by putting it into Schedule 1. They also passed the Federal Analogues Act that would be used as a wide club against any “substantially similar” molecule (a phrase that makes him shake his head. “Is the taillight structure of a 1986 Pontiac “substantially similar” to the taillight structure of a 1984 Chevrolet?”). Despite these crackdowns, his wife in the front row would go on to lead an untold number of therapists into an alliance with MDMA and its chemical cousins like 2C-B. And their books PIHKALand TIHKAL would document a beautiful love story, fertilized by his psychoactives. He knew that the drugs that interested him couldn’t be found by testing them in animals. As an alchemist, he knew you had to stick your finger into it and taste it for yourself.
In his first lecture, he shares with the students,
“My first experience with morphine was with a wound I had during WWII and I was going into England. I was about three days out of England on a destroyer and was below decks and we were playing cards and killing the time until we got into England. I was on morphine pretty much all the time because this was one hell of a painful thing. And I was dealing with one hand, I learned to deal with one hand, and the guy in sick bay would come by and say, “Is your thumb still hurting you?” “Yeah, probably a little bit more than it had before. Whose deal?” You know, the next thing you’re dealing cards. The pain is still there. It’s a beautiful, powerful tool to treat pain because the pain is there, but it doesn’t bother you.”
As he doesn’t reveal in the first lecture, in 1960 Sasha first tried mescaline while a young chemist at Dow Pharmaceuticals. He said of the experience, “I understood that our entire universe is contained in the mind and the spirit. We may choose not to find access to it, we may even deny its existence, but it is indeed there inside us, and there are chemicals that can catalyze its availability.’’
Chemicals can also catalyze profitability. The next year, he created Zectran, the first biodegradable pesticide. Dow could sell it by the ton. And as he said to his class—most likely with a wink and a Groucho Marx smile, “And industries love things they can sell by the ton.”
With his success, Dow was content to leave him alone in his lab, puttering around and doing just the kind of things he wanted. It was a chemist’s dream. And this dreamer dreamed up novel psychedelics.
As Hamilton Morris lovingly laid out, Sasha began with a simple modification to the mescaline molecule. He added one carbon to a side-chain and it became the psychedelic amphetamine that he called TMA. He continued experimenting and produced TMA-2 through TMA-6. The last one eventually went on to become a moderately popular psychedelic in the US and Japan.
As an alchemist, he knew you had to stick your finger into it and taste it for yourself.
1963 marked the beginning of the end for the cushy Dow years: Sasha synthesized DOM (his PIHKAL entry here). By 1966, with LSD illegal, this psychedelic amphetamine started appearing on the street under the name STP (Serenity, Tranquility, and Peace). It earns its name. Shulgin himself said on 4 mg, “It is a beautiful experience. Of all past joys, LSD, mescaline, cannabis, peyote, this ranks number one.”
But the effects of DOM can last much much longer than LSD. You might have been enjoying the merry-go-round, but eventually you want to get off and let the world stop spinning. At 5 mg, he wrote, “The experience continued unabated throughout the night with much tension and discomfort. I was unable to get any sleep. I hallucinated quite freely during the night, but could stop them at will. While I never felt threatened, I felt I knew what it was like to look across the brink to insanity.”
Unfortunately, just in time for the Summer of Love, some underground chemist dosed a batch at 20 mg of DOM per pill. On top of that high dosage, the full effects can take two hours to kick in and so it’s easy to imagine redosing because you don’t think it’s working. In Golden Gate Park at the huge and historic Human Be-In, thousands got way too high in trips that could last for three days. Within a year, the feds made DOM illegal and when Dow figured out the mind behind the molecule, they kindly showed Dr. Shulgin the door.
He went to his home laboratory in the hills outside Berkeley, California, and became a gentleman scientist in the vein of Ed Ricketts. But instead of the sea, Shulgin peered into the mind. He kept his Schedule 1 license by being useful to the DEA and funded himself with consultations and teaching. In plain sight of the authorities, he tinkered with hundreds of psychedelics—including the rediscovery of MDMA.
From this unique perspective, the students in Sasha’s class got to learn about two of the trickiest problems in pharmacology and sociology:
How do you define ‘drug’?
How do you define ‘drug abuse’?
He begins, “Philosophy aside, what is a drug? The FDA has given a marvelous, marvelous, long legal definition that goes on for four paragraphs”. He continues to gently mock this FDA definition until he shares a better explanation from Professor Samuel Irwin: “A drug is any chemical that modifies the function of living tissue, resulting in physiological or behavioral change.” But Shulgin takes it farther:
“I would make the definition looser yet, and considerably more general. Not just a chemical, but also plants, minerals, concepts, energy, just any old stuff. Not just changes in physiology or behavior, but also in attitude, concept, attention, belief, self-image, and even changes in faith and allegiance. “A drug is something that modifies the expected state of a living thing.” In this guise, almost everything outside of food, sleep, and sex can classify as a drug. And I even have some reservations about all three of those examples.”
Cue the laughter. In these transcripts, you often see [laughter], and you know the transcribers are probably underreporting it. It makes you want to listen to the original tapes. Those lucky kids, getting to learn about ingestion methods from one of the great alchemists of the century. Sasha teaches on how we metabolize these drugs, how they sequester to different tissues, how we form bad habits with them and how we form good habits with them.
“If you can drink modestly, if you can use tobacco modestly and have a choice, have freedom of choice, and choose to do it and you have a good relationship with it, and it applies to alcohol, it applies to tobacco, it applies to LSD, it applies to heroin—there is nothing intrinsically evil about any of those drugs. Drugs are not intrinsically evil. In fact, we are going to get into the question of what is drug abuse. The problems that are bothersome with the definition of the word “drug” are nothing compared with the ones that are to be faced with the word “abuse.””
He even had a collection of definitions of ‘drug abuse’. From his huge consumption of articles, essays and public talks, you can imagine the different versions collected in his files, like species of beetles pinned in a collector’s cabinet. He found they fell into “the four operative words: what, who, where and how.”
What a drug is…
a particularly lousy definition because drug abuse is linked directly to the shape of the molecule itself.
Who’s giving the drug…
following Szasz, if drugs from a doctor is drug use and if self-medication is drug abuse, then doctors stand between you and your drugs like priests did between you and God before the Reformation.
Where is the drug obtained…
according to Dr. Jerome Levine at NIMH, drugs from “illicit channels, and/or in medically unsupervised or socially unsanctioned settings.”
“I personally believe, most strongly, that in the improper use of drugs lies their abuse. Dr. Irwin has phrased it thusly: “[Drug abuse is] the taking of drugs under circumstances, and at dosages that significantly increase their hazard potential, whether or not used therapeutically, legally, or as prescribed by a physician.
…
“People use drugs, have always used drugs, and will forever use drugs, whether there are physicians or not…
“Any use of a drug that impairs physical or mental health, that interferes with one’s social functioning or productivity is drug abuse. And the corollary is also true. The use of a drug that does not impair physical or mental health or interfere with social functioning or productivity is not drug abuse. And the question of its illegality is completely beside the matter.”
And the Freedom Fighter in him isn’t slow to point out how these definitions are used to harm people in the real world via the War on Drugs. Plus, the sly wizard mentions the recent banning of MDMA as a textbook example of the misuse of drug abuse.
What a prof. He defines terms, rambles on to fascinating asides and uses brilliant metaphors. And of course, he made no secret of his dislike of midterms, finals and grades. He’s the kind of cool teacher who takes a Socratic poll on what kind of final to have and finally decides to make it an essay question where you have to disagree with him.
Buy The Book: The Nature of Drugs
All these lectures give the portrait of a courageous, beautiful soul. And with this book, the course is only getting started. There’s another volume still to be published where he will drill down into the various categories of drugs.
Anyone interested in psychoactives should get this book and support the further compiling of Dr. Shulgin’s work. If you’ve ever spent $30 on any of his chemical creations, helping out by buying the book seems only fair. And you get to own a lovely portrait of someone whom we are very lucky for having lived and having taught.
The two have an intimate conversation that spans from how Carhart-Harris’s work began, how his theories, like the REBUS model, took shape, and what other applications psilocybin may have for treating mental, spiritual, and physical health conditions.
The interview has an interesting twist because Wing participated in an NYU trial of psilocybin for major depressive disorder and experienced full remission from a recurrent battle with depression after his first dose of the magic mushroom compound. Wing shares a lot of his first hand experience with Robin Carhart-Harris on how the trial he participated in changed his mood state and mindset, and what the possible neurochemical changes felt like subjectively.
Court Wing: Is this, in any way, in the arc of what you expected to see when you started out this research?
Robin Carhart-Harris: Wow. Hmm… Maybe it is. Or… no it’s not. No. [laughs] I mean, after a few years, you start to realize the therapeutic potential, or I did.
Initially, it was like, psychedelics are fascinating tools… Powerful tools to revolutionize our understanding of the mind and the brain. That’s what drew me in. And then I was like, “Oh, and the therapeutic application is actually very compelling.” Once I caught onto that (and this was probably sort of midway through my PhD in the late noughties, you know, late 2000s). Then, I remember, Ben Sessa was trying to get a psilocybin for alcoholism study going at Bristol, where I was doing my Ph.D. We had meetings with seniority, who basically weren’t interested in our idea. And then I said, “Leave it ten years,” and we’ll be able to do this research. I think someone said once, “You overestimate what you can achieve in a year and underestimate what can be achieved in ten.”
That rings true. The changes in a decade have been colossal so it’s been beyond expectations, really.
CW: Personally, it’s hard not to feel a great deal of gratitude for the work that you’ve all done. As you know, I went through the NYU psilocybin study for major depressive disorder a year ago. And [now I’m in] total remission. I mean, just so unexpected. And I read the research, I saw the reports, I read the review paper of the neural mechanisms, which actually was the first thing that truly excited me because I had lost track of the prefrontal cortex atrophy and seeing words like neurogenesis, synaptogenesis, dendritic arborization; it’s like, that’s part and parcel of what I had been studying in things like chronic pain for the last ten plus years. But to go through it and to feel a physical absence of the depression; I don’t have a better term for it. Like a missing burden.
Anyways, what type of data were you seeing [early on] that made you want to pursue this on a study level? Because it’s one thing to hear about this stuff occurring anecdotally, but then to [say], “Boy, there’s enough traction there that I think we really have something”?
RCH: Yeah, yeah. I think if we rewind to the end of the 2000s or even earlier, mostly in terms of mental health data, it was abstract. It was the work done in the 50s and 60s that we looked at as a historical curiosity.
It wasn’t enough to put that and Indigenous use in [a] healing context. It wasn’t enough to put that together in my mind and think, “Oh, this is really compelling.” So a few things made the difference. And I think sometimes you need to (even though I’m a scientist, and I shouldn’t say this, in a way), you do sort of need to see things with your own eyes. And what made a big difference for me was doing our own brain imaging research.
Taking healthy volunteers, looking in their brains and seeing things that were suggestive of an antidepressant effect, and then listening to them say, “I feel lighter. I feel unburdened.” And then thinking, well, now this seems really tangible. And that makes sense in the context of Roland [Griffiths]’s work in healthy volunteers, and Charlie Grob’s work in end-of-life anxiety.
So then we started piecing things together for a UK Medical Research Council grant. And that got through. And the reviews were remarkably good. I don’t know, but I imagined some fellow researchers in this space were allowed to review our proposal and did us a favor, because the reviews across the board were top marks. And I think, then the UKMRC were in a difficult situation, because [they thought], “How do we reject this when everyone’s saying this is really top quality research that they’re proposing?” And actually, we proposed a double blind randomized control trial then in 2012 that we couldn’t complete until 2021 because of the difficulties of actually doing the research. We ended up doing that open label trial that was published.
But I would say, a turning point for me was the first patient in our TRD [Treatment Resistant Depression] trial. She just responded remarkably. She visibly became a different person from heavy, head down, minimal eye contact, tearing up when starting to open up, no smiles—gosh, no, just frowns. And then, after the treatment, the warmth and the color and the smiling and a beautiful smile came on her face. And it was just a wonderful, beautiful thing. It’s such a privilege to be able to do that for someone. And that was a massive turning point. It was like, “Oh, my goodness, this really works.”
CW: Yeah. It’s startling, trying to describe to people the one-day turnaround quality of this. And I think it’s actually very much undersold, because I told the researchers, Dr. Stephen Ross at NYU and my facilitators afterwards. You know, I went through the MADRS scores, which you are now more than familiar with [laughs], and at the end of the session, one of the facilitators [asked me], “So how do you feel?” And I’m like, “Oh, good.” And then I did a deeper scan, like reflexively, and I was like, “Good.” Like, I could tell it was gone. And I was like, “That fast? Honest to God, that fast?” And they’re like, “Well, we’ll know when you’re unblinded.” But in retrospect, if I had been given the chance to take the original MADRS evaluation again, my scores would have gone higher. Because now in the absence [of depressive symptoms], I can tell how much more severe they were. It’s a strange thing.
One thing that you’ve said a couple times here, and perhaps it’s a figure of speech, but I believe there’s a somatic quality to it. And since you brought up the fMRI studies, you mentioned people discussing feeling lighter, feeling unburdened, like there’s this description of the condition that has this feeling of extreme heaviness or being bogged down. So there’s some aspect that involves this interoceptive quality where there’s obviously slower reaction times and things like that, but what do you think is operating there? Because I remember, in the fMRI studies, you guys were a little bit surprised by seeing the type of changes in blood flow that were going on. I believe, [you] expected one thing and instead ended up with something else. Do you have any thoughts to that area?
RCH: Yeah, yeah. I’ve often thought (and experience has endorsed this view) that we often intuit mechanisms through our language, the way we’re describing the experience, and whether or not there’s some kind of priming effect or not. Maybe it is [priming], but also, I’m not sure it really matters, when ultimately you do the research and see that it’s endorsed. But the analogies that you’re used to hearing today (the popular ones, or the well-used ones) around heaviness and being bogged down; it’s all weight related. There’s heaviness, there’s weight. You know, you get bogged down. So there’s a gravitational pull to the depression, which means it pulls you in and you can’t get out very easily. And I think (I’ve got to intuit, because we don’t know yet, but) it’s something to do with synaptic weighting, and that certain circuitry gets weighted. If we really zoom in on a very low level, it’s probably the synaptic weighting certain connections belonging to certain circuitry associated with heavy introspection. [They] get heavily weighted in depression.
What happens? Well, that’s another fascinating question, and maybe a different question. But let’s just say that that’s the character. On a descriptive level, that’s the character of chronic depression and a depressive episode is that you get stuck. Literally, you get stuck in a certain sort of dynamic configuration because that heavy synaptic weighting is the reinforcement of that.
RCH: Yeah, it’s very relevant. In people’s people’s mind’s eyes, they can imagine a landscape. And in a depressive episode, you literally have a depression in that landscape. And if you imagine a ball being able to move in this landscape, and that being your mind at any given time, then in a depression, the ball is spending a disproportionate amount of time in the depression in that landscape. It falls in very easily, [and it’s] very difficult to get it out. And so what psychedelics are doing is just pushing up that depression and flattening the landscape.
CW: Right. I’ve heard the ski slope analogy. So either we have fresh powder that’s either filling up the depression, or we have some sort of artificial means like a snow plow that’s smoothing everything out. So if we were to just roughly characterize the nervous system as biasing towards efficiency, even if that depressor, that enemy energy minima is more efficient, it’s not necessarily more effective anymore in our daily lives. At some point, it was the 2A adaptation toward some high priority event, but now it’s become maladaptive… I listened to that lecture byAndrés Gómez Emilsson of QRI [Qualia Research Institute]. There’s this discussion of criticality with the mind and with a depression. It’s almost, to some degree, like an event horizon, almost. Right? The pull is so strong, it’s very hard to get out of there. So why is it, once that landscape is flattened, as these new neural connections in the functional connectivity are occurring, why does it resort into a better, healthier connection? I mean, if this quality of openness is being promoted, why are we defaulting back to something that’s more useful, something that’s healthier, something that’s more, I guess, effective, as well as efficient?
It’s one of the issues with doing psychedelic research. [It’s] almost by saying, “I’m a psychedelic researcher,” [that] you’re seen as somehow a lesser scientist.
-Robin Carhart-Harris
RCH: Yeah. I actually do think that the fresh covering of snow is a good analogy. So if you’re born into this world, and you haven’t been affected by life in any particular way, you have a very smooth, fresh ground of snow there. And I suppose, what’s happening with the psychedelic experience; I mean, this is very mechanistic, and is not putting much on the therapeutic component and so, that’s a little dangerous to put it all on, like, “The brain resets.”
CW: Sorry. Yeah, well, the intent makes a huge difference. That’s clear.
RCH: It does. And so, you could have the snow falling, and you can manipulate things in a way that potentially could even reinforce certain circuitry. But that doesn’t happen, because the contextual; the environment in which you have the psychedelic experience is nurturing in the way that it should be for a newborn coming into the world: You’re not trying to heavily indoctrinate them or drive them in any particular direction, other than to care for them and just say, “You are safe, and I will hold you as we move through life.”
But you know, things could go in a horrible direction there. Horrible kinds of things could happen that could start to reinforce a certain shape to the snow. And so anyway, I think it’s a mix. It’s a mix of the fresh falling of the snow [and] shaking the snow globe, [which] is the one [metaphor] that I came up with personally. But the fresh falling of the snow is like an old neuroplasticity analogy. And there is something called the plasticity paradox, which says that plasticity, in and of itself, isn’t necessarily healing, but if the plasticity comes and is utilized in a positive way (and so in the context of psychedelic therapy, it’s utilized and honest in a therapeutic way), then you have the magic sauce.
And so I like to say these days in as many interviews as I can [is] that psychedelic therapy is fundamentally a combination treatment. It’s not just shaking the snow globe. You could shake the snow globe in someone already psychologically unstable, and when the snow settles, it might not be a great picture. But you shake the snow globe in someone who’s ready for this to happen, and it happens in a perfectly nurturing, supportive environment, then the snow is going to settle. I think you can feel quite confident that the snow is going to settle in a healthier way.
CW: Do you think beyond just the psychiatric applications, which seem quite vast still—I mean, honestly, the smoking cessation and cocaine addiction early results… are just completely astonishing—but do you think there are lateral applications? Obviously, I’m quite invested in the changes that are possible, I think, for chronic pain of a potentially non-nociceptive type, but even for nociceptive chronic pain. I have to give credit here to Dr. Brendan Hussey. I saw his presentation on your REBUS model back in July with a MAPS Canada Journal Club, and he had an amazing slide deck. And, I, myself, personally, had a very deep revelation on March 6th, which was the day after I went through [psilocybin-assisted therapy] (March 5th [was] my dosing day) where it’s like, all of these things suddenly opened up where it’s like this can change this whole picture here. Once I saw Brendan’s work describing yours and I had a visual, [I realized] the REBUS model completely overlies the descriptions for the last decade and a half of what’s going on in chronic pain, in terms of how a pain neurosignature is formed. Have you thought about it at all? I think it’s like, beyond psychological.
RCH: Well, that’s fascinating. Maybe there’s some things there that I don’t know that I could learn. We are planning a chronic pain trial in fibromyalgia with psilocybin therapy.
It’ll start at the end of this year at Imperial. I’m moving to UCSF, but that trial will carry on with the money that I was lucky enough to bring in.
[It relates to] the REBUS model in the sense that the precision weighting is exactly what we’re talking about here. Assumptions are heavily weighted. Certain assumptions—you might call them pathological assumptions, you might even call them adaptive assumptions, defensive assumptions—deserve a bit of compassion, because the body of [the] mind is doing its best to try and stabilize things in a way. So in a sense, depressive episodes, eating disorders, image disorders, chronic pain, they’re often the body and the mind trying to do their best defensive strategies. But we’d rather not have them, you know? And then that takes some bravery, doesn’t it?
Perhaps this is most acute in something like anorexia, where the [adaptation] is so maladaptive, it’s killing people often. It’s ego-syntonic for the sufferer, meaning they don’t see themselves as suffering, like, “This is good, this is working.” And so, it’s adaptive, maladaptive, it depends how you look at it, but to most eyes, it’s maladaptive. But it takes bravery, because [people think], “Oh my goodness, you’re going to take away this thing that I need?” like in an addiction. Like, “I’m not ready to give this up, I need this!”
You know, and there’s sort of irony there: “I’ll die without it.” It’s like, “No, you’ll die with it.” But that’s the sort of pivot, isn’t it? And again, it brings us to the requirement. Sometimes, actually, a conscious decision needs to be made to let go, both in the experience itself, but also the decision to have the treatment in the first place.
CW: You spent the better part of a week, pre-publication [of the “Psilocybin vs. Escitalopram for Depression” trial], going through this long explanation of how someone should look at a study as both proposed and then executed, and then how the results are interpreted, and how a journal can also interpret those things. But you took it upon yourself, I think, slightly unusually, to kind of let people know: Really go to the tables, go to the appendices, that’s where you’re going to see the striking numbers. And there’s been many expert reviews saying, “Well, okay, they were wise to in fact not do an adjusted comparison, because then it doesn’t account for the random chance possibility that it’s just a statistical anomaly,” right?
At the same time, honestly, I met someone who also went through the same trial I went through up at Yale, [being treated for] 26 years of major depressive disorder and [then experiencing] full remission. We couldn’t stop going on about the MADRS [depression rating] scores. I understand the QIDS [depression symptomatology scale] one, and now there’s a little buyer’s remorse in there about like, “Ahh, why [did we choose] this one [for the psilocybin vs escitalopram study]? Why this one [QIDS]?”
RCH: [laughing] I know.
CW: And there’s been some criticism that in the prereq, if I’m saying it correctly, where there was kind of one expected outcome that was supposed to be measured, and they [New England Journal of Medicine] were saying there is one way that was registered with the US boards and another way with the UK boards, and that, in the paper itself, it didn’t actually discuss those things. But it doesn’t feel like you guys were pulling a dodge or anything like that. And I think even if people just look at the QIDS remission and response rates and the secondary outcomes; I mean, I am trying not to fanboy all over the place, but it’s so commensurate with what happened for me and what other people have described.
RCH: Yeah. It was a very interesting experience. We certainly didn’t in any way, or could be accused of pulling a dodge. I would say one way to look at how all of this has gone is that we played it so straight, and so the miss on the primary has to be reported because it was pre-registered ahead of the trial to be the primary.
Do we regret choosing the QIDS as the primary? Well, of course we do. And now we understand. Actually, and this could be sort of sour grapes, speaking to a bias in favor of psilocybin, but I do believe it’s not a great measure. And you just have to look at that forest plot that I’ve now pinned to my Twitter page, to see that it’s an anomaly. It looks like a false negative. And I think the right interpretation is that it’s likely to be a false negative and these two conditions do separate.
So we played it very straight. Was it bad luck? Well, if you believe that the ground truth is that psilocybin is the better treatment, and that hasn’t come through because of the miss on the primary, then yes, it’s bad luck. And so part of the effort in trying to get ahead of the messaging was just that; to try and keep people closer to the results themselves, and to say, “Look at the results in some detail.” And that’s quite unusual, I think, for researchers to do.
RCH: They’re often more wanting people to hear their narrative. And I was sort of, in a sense, saying, “Look beyond the narrative (because it wasn’t our narrative, it was the editor of the journal), and look at the results. And you decide.” I felt that we were made to spin the results in a way that misled the reader, that didn’t accurately represent the results. And that bothered me. So I felt I had to communicate to people early on, and I couldn’t say it at that stage, because I couldn’t reveal the results.
So all I was saying to people was trying to explain the nature of the stats, and then say, you know, if there’s anything you do here, just look at the results in detail, and go to that supplementary appendix. The way we were treated in terms of not being allowed to include that forest plot, what’s the agenda there? Hiding results? It’s very questionable. And I’ve stopped short of getting conspiratorial about it, but it’s almost like, “Well, let’s move that out of the way, and, you know, lift this one up, it’s missed on the primary.” And there was so much more to see.
It was an unusual experience. And it felt like the power of [the] deep establishment wanting to frame things a particular way, like, “Nothing to see here. Carry on, everything’s as usual everybody. SSRIs are for everybody.” I don’t know.
CW: It certainly wasn’t your first rodeo. It’s not as if you were fresh to letting results out or doing deep, intimate work with a well-received theoretical basis, right? And yet, they’re almost acting like, “Well, these young fellows, what a nice idea they have,” or something like that.
RCH: Yeah, [it’s] one of the issues with doing psychedelic research. [It’s] almost by saying, “I’m a psychedelic researcher,” [that] you’re seen as somehow a lesser scientist.
And the deep establishment has that position on things. I actually think there’s some published work on this where people have looked at the opinion of scientific peers on those who declare whether they’ve had a personal psychedelic experience or not, and it does transpire that peers view people disclosing their personal uses as suggesting that they’re a weaker scientist in some way. And that’s kind of frustrating, but it is what it is.
But there are some very high standards that we’re being assessed by here, standards that haven’t always been in place. As SSRIs have developed and got through, there’s been a lot of scandal and bad practice in terms of the data on SSRIs. So playing it very straight as we did, and, in a sense, underselling the results, I’m kind of okay with, because I know in time, the truth will [come] out. And the whole area has been getting so excited and expectations are so high that a little bit of moderation at this stage with this particular trial is probably a good thing. So I sort of accept it somewhat reluctantly, in terms of the way the paper was framed. But it got into the New England Journal of Medicine.
CW: Yes it did.
RCH: And that was really important.
CW: And even if it was a moderate, conservative, staid description of the results, the results were like: It [psilocybin] was just as good as our standard of care [SSRIs] right now. And the appendix; that’s why I wrote the Op-Ed for Psychedelics Today, just to say, look, he’s been telling us, and anyone who’s gone through this, that went into full remission, can say this is not even remotely close to the same thing. I almost wonder if the quality of remission that we’re discussing between the SSRI and psilocybin, if, internally, it’s two different types of remission? Because I’ve been on the other stuff, and this is not that. It isn’t.
RCH: The one result that’s most impressive is probably the remission rates. What we’re seeing with the escitalopram (and this probably reflects a more general rule) is improvement in symptom severity, but not reliably into remission. I think that’s it. If remission is ultimately what you want with a treatment, which of course it is—to be free of the disorder—then you’re much more likely to achieve that (twice as likely to achieve that) on the most conservative measure on the trial with the psilocybin.
CW: I think [on] day two of the study, there [were] approximately (depending on which score you used), something like 25 to 30 plus people [who] had stopped being depressed on day two. I truly envied the fact that you guys were running a two-dose study, because it did seem like, from my perspective, even though things had gotten remarkably better [for me], that a second dose would have made a big difference.
RCH: What time point, Court, do you think a second dose would have made [the] most sense?
CW: I think you guys have got it right on the money. Honestly.
I think three weeks. It’s like you have that first week where you’re just kind of in this freefall, like, “My God, is it really this simple?” And then starting to incorporate it in the following week, you know, kind of like, “Is this stable?” Probably doing a lot of reality checking. And then [you’re] just waiting for that ghost of the previous condition to kind of re-emerge. And then by week three, you’re now actually starting to incorporate all this and it’s like, “I have more questions.” I keep regretting the time I didn’t spend under the eyeshades. [laughs]
Honestly, you know, at a certain point, there [were] things [I was] so compelled to talk about, you know? I wasn’t psychedelically naive. 25 plus years earlier, someone had led me on a set-and-setting transpersonal session with [a] high-dose [of] LSD, and that had been remarkable, honestly, for years. But this was… the psychological material that emerged, it’s like, I had no idea [that] the things that came up were going to, and so a second session, like, by week three, it’s like I had formed enough around what had occurred in the first session. It could have been five weeks and that would have been fine.
But I think if you’re talking about things in the course of treatment, like say, spatial summation vs. temporal summation, I think to kind of maintain that intensity level for that neuroplasticity to really gel, usually you need novelty and intensity. And I think Andrés Gómez Emilsson could probably argue this quality of valence. I think three weeks seems just about right. I don’t know. I’m thinking of Ros Watts, and she’s like a bodhisattva on the planet, I swear. Every time I hear her voice, it’s so calming and reassuring. But I think in the three week period, beyond that, you start to get almost lonely for your therapist and the session, if that makes sense. So, you know, it’s just like, “Ah, good. I finally got to go back to that thing again.”
It’s an extraordinary time [considering] what’s just happened with the MDMA and PTSD studies. And I think that’s about their spread there, too. They have three sessions. And I think (don’t quote me on this) it’s something like three weeks apart.
RCH: Right, okay. Maybe we intuited things the same way.
CW: Yeah.
RCH: It’s a promising time.
CW: Yeah, it is. I’m sorry, we’ve come to time and I don’t want to chew up any more of yours. You’ve been very generous. And just once again [nervously laughs]… See, I used to be very reactive. When I’d say things like this, it was impossible not to get choked up and I’m kind of struggling to be a good representative here, but honestly, it’s [holding back tears]… quite a life.
RCH: Yeah, I hear you Court.
CW: I took mine [psilocybin-assisted therapy] 10 days before the lockdown in New York City. I can’t imagine… I’ve been inside with my boys for a year. I can’t imagine what would have happened if it had been the placebo…
Anything in closing? And also I should [mention], Kyle and Joe, and now Michelle, at Psychedelics Today, were extraordinarily welcoming. They’ve created such an incredible community with so much information there, and really a very broad spectrum. This brings in a very large tent of people. But any final thoughts to offer or anything that’s emerged from the studies in terms of like, lateral effects that have surprised you or anything like that? I’m fascinated to see what else is going to be changed by this quality of openness being enhanced. Because that really, that’s so many things besides just like, no longer being locked in iterative rumination. It’s a whole spectrum of life possibilities and cultural assumptions.
RCH: Yeah. There’s a lot of other measures in the paper, the secondary measures. The REBUS model has a focus more on the relaxing of the top-down, but when you talk to people, often the pertinent statement is, “The things that came up.” I think that’s an important space to get a better handle on in the future. What is that? You know, what is that mechanistically, “The things that come up”? I’d love to understand that better. I mean, I’m mechanistically minded, so I tend to go there.
But it’s been wonderful to chat to you and I very much am moved by what you told me. And I’m so pleased that you’ve had the experience that you’ve had, and it’s helped you as it has. It’s wonderful to hear that. It makes it all worthwhile, what we’re all doing.
This interview has been edited for clarity and grammar.
About the Author
Court Wing has been a professional in the performance and rehab space for the last 30 years. Coming from a performing and martial arts background, Court served as a live-in apprentice to the US Chief Instructor for Ki-Aikido for five years, going on to win the gold medal for the International Competitors Division in Japan in 2000 and achieving the rank of 3rd degree black belt. In 2004, Court became the co-founder of New York’s largest and oldest crossfit gym, and has been featured in the New York Times, Sunday Routine, Men’s Fitness, and USA Today. He is also a certified Z-Health Master Trainer, using the latest interventions in applied neuro-physiology for remarkable improvements in pain, performance, and rehabilitation. You can find out more on his website: https://courtwing.com .
The psychedelic space has an abuse problem, but how do we resolve it? Community accountability and transformative justice can help.
In the past few years, the global psychedelic community has weathered countless ruptures as patterns of problematic behavior have come to light. While calls for accountability have been increasing, we have yet to establish frameworks and processes that support it. Such are the challenges of a decentralized, citizen-powered movement: It is as diverse and situational as the psychedelic experience itself, and accountability is not a one size fits all process. The ways we approach massive, powerful institutions often look very different from the ways we approach those in our immediate social groups.
We have seen sexual assault in underground healing environments and leaders aligning with sexual predators. We’ve witnessed the shameless commodification of ceremonial practices and silencing of voices championing equity and diversity. We can also be sure that more issues are just around the bend. They are bound to surface as the movement grows and we attempt to create practical systems for accountability that can keep up with this rapid expansion.
The mainstream paradigm of accountability is rooted in the legal system. It is centered around the concept of penalty—simply put, if someone breaks the law or a societal contract, they will be punished, often by being removed from community or being made to experience the same pain and suffering they have caused. Justice is seen as a contract between the individual and the state, and harm is defined by legal institutions. It can be static, rigid, and lacking nuance. Among the many issues with this punitive model is the simple fact that the needs and experiences of survivors and those impacted are often an afterthought. In addition, punishment does little to prevent further harm, rehabilitate the person responsible, or address the underlying conditions which contributed to the event.
If we don’t dedicate ourselves to a new vision of accountability while the psychedelic movement is still relatively small, the fallout and damage could be much greater. We are in a world where cancelling and punishing people is our main choice for dealing with harms. If we want to be a culture built on the cornerstones of healing and relationship, we will need to find ways to embody these values in our approach to accountability.
By modeling clear, compassionate, and dialogue-based systems for accountability, we can prevent the invasive seedlings of harm from growing into weeds which choke out the entire garden of psychedelic healing.
The Opportunity
It’s high time for us to circle up, from our smallest pods to our largest public forums, and form agreements on how we are going to show up as a movement to destigmatize and create safer access to psychedelics. What are our core values, and how do we bring them to life? How do we, as a global community, intend to prevent and respond to situations of harm and abuse? We need to define our agreements and put them into practice at home. Whatever we create together in the microcosm will determine what takes shape in the large scale later on.
In the past few years, I have been involved in many behind-the-scenes conversations where I have been earnestly warned about problematic individuals and organizations in the psychedelic scene. I have been given firsthand accounts of behaviors ranging from ethically questionable to outright violent and predatory.
Perhaps this secretive dynamic is a reflection of the social contract around psychedelics. While the space is splintered, we share a broad collective cause—one that is just beginning to gain legitimacy in the eyes of the government and general public—and thus, we have a call to protect one another. This is a community which generally understands the potential legal and reputational ramifications of outing anyone who is a part of the psychedelic underground for bad behavior. But are we more loyal to the movement for psychedelic access itself, or the people who have been harmed within it?
Over and over, when I hear these accounts, the same questions arise for me:
Have we brought these concerns to the person in question? Is mycelial, grapevine-style dialogue the best way to establish safety amongst ourselves? There must be a better way forward which could actually interrupt patterns of damage and promote reconciliation. I fear that our current non-confrontational approach allows problematic behavior to continue due to our own unwillingness to address it head on.
In addition, each person with this insider knowledge must now carry the burden of sorting out what to do with it. Should I warn everyone I know? Should I approach the person directly? How do we get to the truth of a situation, and at what point (if any) should these truths be made public? Who gets to decide? When should someone be muted, removed from a position of leadership, or barred from participating in community? How do we set terms for their reentry?
These are difficult questions that we need to explore together and within ourselves. Though it is more laborious and does nothing to satisfy our own sense of self-righteousness, there are ways to address problems without calling someone out, cancelling them, or permanently destroying their reputation. The challenge is that each situation is different, so developing a formulaic approach for an entire movement is impossible.
It’s no secret that psychedelics are going mainstream. We have an opportunity to set the tone and shape the culture of this movement by how we conduct ourselves amongst one another, how we cultivate community and how we organize our institutions and advocacy efforts. By modeling clear, compassionate, and dialogue-based systems for accountability, we can prevent the invasive seedlings of harm from growing into weeds which choke out the entire garden of psychedelic healing.
Recently, North Star, a new psychedelic nonprofit, launched the first widespread code of ethics for psychedelic practitioners and organizations, based on input from 100 stakeholders in the field. The seven principles in the North Star pledge are:
Start within
Study the traditions
Build trust
Consider the gravity
Focus on process
Create equality & justice
Pay it forward
These values can serve as guiding lights and a first step toward a culture of accountability. The problem with voluntary creeds like this one is that they are mostly symbolic in nature. Without a clear way to vet those who are self-associating with the pledge, there is no way to know whether someone’s public commitment is deeply rooted or performative. We don’t actually know what an individual or an organization is made of until they have been involved for a while and have been given space to act, connect, contribute, and most likely, be under a little pressure.
Ultimately, the nature of accountability is relational. The act of uncovering messy truths and the challenging processes of responsibility often happens at kitchen tables and park benches, not board rooms and convention stages.
Fortunately, we don’t have to reinvent the wheel. The psychedelic community may be new to the justice discussion, but leaders from other disciplines such as Emergent Strategy, mutual aid networks, and prison diversion programs have spent many years engaging with the messy, daily practice of addressing and repairing harm. We would be wise to learn from these leaders. If we do, the psychedelic field will be better off for it.
What Is Accountability?
The basis of accountability is simple: When damage has been done, there is a healing process that needs to take place. At its most basic, accountability is a cycle of harm, recognition, and repair.
But before we can talk about holding one another accountable, it’s essential that we each develop the practice of holding ourselves accountable. It’s hard, lifelong work to take responsibility for our actions and their impacts; it requires us to labor through our own barriers to receiving critique. Only once we get past our own denial, fragility, and excuses can we reach a place of acknowledgment and growth. While reconciliation isn’t always guaranteed, self-responsibility can open the door to remaining in community after harm has been caused. This long-term work rarely happens in isolation—it happens in our homes, partnerships, friendships, professional collaborations, and within the larger movements we champion.
Accountability takes many different forms.
Self-accountability, which is about as sexy as steamed kale, begins with identifying our values. It asks each of us to recognize that we live in an interconnected world in which our actions have immediate and indirect impacts. Once we have clarified our value system, we must then cultivate the practice of tracking whether or not our behavior is aligned with these values. But we all have blind spots; this is why we need community.
Interpersonal accountability can be enticing. On one hand, there’s some primal part of us that feeds off of scandalous news when someone in the community goes rogue. There is an impulse to see folks who are doing damage taken down; perhaps witnessing these takedowns makes us feel superior. Maybe punishment creates an illusion of safety, or at least, demonstrates that the community has boundaries and agreements we can all lean on. The responsibility here is to ensure that before we expend energy confronting others about their behavior, we check ourselves. We need to ask: “Am I the best person, and is this the best time, to call this person in? Is there inner work that I am responsible for at this moment? And importantly, am I ready to participate in a process without doing further damage?”
Then there’s institutional accountability—the fantasy we can’t seem to get enough of. Mainstream media publishes pieces vilifying Compass Pathways and ATAI Sciences, and we eat it up and express our outrage on comment threads and podcasts. Perhaps this is because it is easy to see large corporations as faceless, evil monsters to rail against. But again, we have to go deeper—who is leading these organizations? What worldviews and assumptions are they operating under? What wounds might be beneath the problematic behaviors we love to hate? And importantly, what are the ugly parts within ourselves that are so uncomfortably reflected in their behaviors?
Within a movement like the psychedelic resurgence, accountability becomes a long term process of choosing to stay in relationship. We set out to do this while understanding that as flawed humans, we will certainly hurt one another and we need clear agreements, safety parameters, and systems for repair. While it isn’t always safe or possible to keep people in community who have done harm, it is a pursuit which can create more opportunity for long-term healing than the scorched-earth mentality of punishment and eradication.
When reimagining the idea of safety within community, there are two terms that are often used interchangeably: restorative and transformative justice. While they are related, they have key differences.
The United Nations Working Group on Restorative Justice (RJ) defines it this way: “A process whereby parties with a stake in a particular offense resolve collectively how to deal with the aftermath of the offence and its implications for the future. In essence, we seek to repair the harms caused by crime and violence.” The process seeks to restore the conditions that were present before a harm took place. RJ efforts often work in tandem with local judicial systems. Check out these firsthand accounts of the accountability process from Restorative Justice Victoria.
Transformative Justice (TJ) goes even deeper. It seeks to address the context in which harms occurred and, through a community-centered approach, catalyze long-term shifts in the very fabric of society. This can serve to not only prevent harm, but to create conditions that lead to healing and thriving, as well.
For years, transformative justice efforts have been a part of the movement toward building healthier, more intact communities and reducing the reliance on policing as our only means of creating safety. It is a holistic approach which focuses first on resourcing the victims/survivors of harm, who are often erased within the punitive justice system. Rehabilitating the person responsible is a secondary consideration, in the spirit of prevention. In addition, it holds an eye toward the source and root cause of the harm, rather than treating individual situations as isolated incidents. This enables us to make systematic shifts which can ultimately ripple outward and help reshape the culture of our communities as a whole.
Transformative justice understands that the harms we inflict upon one another are the downstream effects of larger dysfunctions within our society. They may stem from a culture shaped by scarcity, disconnection, domination, and generational trauma. In order to truly prevent harms from repeating, we have to transform the underlying issues and the belief structures that uphold them.
Interrogating our community standards and assumptions, strengthening interdependence, and addressing the root causes of harm are at the heart of transformative justice.
Benefits of the Transformative Justice Approach
Enables intervention before small harms and patterns escalate into major problems
Centers the needs and experiences of survivors or those impacted
It enables all involved to increase their capacity for clear communication, generative conflict, and ownership of responsibility
It creates opportunity for the person who has done harm to reflect on and understand the impact of their actions
It requires an actionable plan for repair
It cultivates greater safety, resilience and trust within the community
Limitations of Transformative Justice
Accountability processes sometimes happen months or years after an incident has occurred
Defining repair is much harder when death or major damage has occured
Results are slower and more systemic (we have to be invested in the long view)
Confrontation can be extremely uncomfortable
Those who are confronted cannot be coerced into accountability processes
Making amends doesn’t often have a clear timeline or resolution
Community involvement over time is required
Potential Misuse of Transformative Justice
People who aren’t committed to their inner work may harness the language or tools of accountability in an attempt to control situations or deflect culpability
People may repeat serious harms over time and rely on the optics of transformative justice to save face when held accountable
Those invested in upholding existing power structures may discourage efforts toward transformative justice, as it is rooted in systemic change
What If We Are All Responsible?
There is a tempting, self-righteous satisfaction in punishing or cancelling people we view as problematic. Part of why punitive systems exist within our society is because they allow us to rely on a convenient binary. When we frame complex situations in right/wrong, good/bad, or involved/not involved, we get a free pass to look the other way. Effectively, we absolve ourselves of the nuanced and laborious process of conflict transformation.
Community based approaches to healing can have major benefits, but they require work. If the goal of accountability is to interrupt cycles of harm and create long term vitality in our communities, we must also work to create healthier systems at the root level. This reimagining takes all of us. In an interview with the Barnard Center for Research On Women, Esteban Kelly, co-founder of AORTA (Anti-Oppression Resource & Training Alliance), put it this way:
“[Transformative justice] distributes the culpability a bit. Which isn’t to say it is even, but everyone holds some amount. What environment enabled the silencing to go on, such that this pattern was able to continue until a crisis? What allowed things to escalate? What were the subtle hints around male supremacy, sexism, white supremacy, or different forms of class power that gave people hidden messages that this was acceptable or that we’re not going to intervene?”
Steps of Accountability in Transformative Justice
Transformative justice acknowledges that there are no quick fixes to complex problems. Calling someone in is a first step, but there is no way of knowing how they will respond. Given the complex dynamics which can often lead to damaging behavior, it is possible that someone will refuse to participate in peacemaking efforts. If they are willing, however, a loose framework can look this way:
Identifying the harm: A problematic behavior or pattern is identified, either by the individual, someone affected, or the surrounding community.
Calling in: The person in question is called in. (Learn about the differences between calling in and calling out here.) If you are called in, it may take some time to wade through your initial reaction and emotional activation, but ultimately, see if you can receive the call to accountability as a loving act. You are being invited to change a behavior instead of being rejected because of it.
Taking responsibility: Feeling badly or saying sorry isn’t enough here. True accountability requires that we take responsibility for our actions and identify where we had freedom of choice when we may have felt we had no options.
Commitment to repair: The person responsible dedicates themself to repairing the harms that were caused.
Clarifying agreements and actionable steps: Ideally, those impacted will be involved in the decision making process around what repair should look like. The more specific you can be, the better. For example, if the person responsible is in leadership, do they need to be asked to step down from their platform for a set period of time? If someone has harmed another person in the community directly, do they need to help cover the cost of healing services?
Following up and ongoing relationship: This is where the rubber meets the road. Change takes time, and the process is not linear. To fulfill agreements and develop new habits, people need to be held in community while also keeping those who have been harmed safe.
The above model is not a hard and fast formula, but more of a roadmap through common situations. Sometimes, harm is so deep and shattering that basic steps toward repair may seem simplistic. For example, what if someone dies during an underground medicine retreat or a clinical trial? Worse, what if there are efforts to conceal or rewrite the narrative of what has happened? When facing situations where loss of life has occurred, the family of the deceased must be heard and empowered to define what efforts toward repair feel supportive on their own terms.
But, what if the person in question refuses to accept responsibility? What if the survivor or person impacted has no interest in being a part of an accountability process? Can Transformative Justice principles still serve when the process is less tidy?
I spoke with Esteban Kelly about his perspectives on creating a culture of accountability within movements. In addition to being a co-founder and worker-owner of AORTA Co-op, he also spent fifteen years as a volunteer member of Philly Stands Up!, a community-based transformative justice collective which worked directly with people who caused harm in sexual assault situations. Through PSU!, Kelly amplified the lessons of transformative justice to help local communities navigate scenarios of interpersonal harm and healing.
“If someone won’t be accountable, we are not going to do something coercive, contribute to call-out culture, or publicly shame them. We ask survivors, please don’t do a public take-down of this person; we’re not calling to cancel people. Instead, we might suggest that communities mute them or say they should not be platformed, but we ultimately want to draw people back into networks of trust. We want to direct resources and coaching to them so they are more capable of the change those around them know they need.”
Developing Muscle Memory in the Accountability Process
Accountability is a process, not an end point we arrive at. It requires acknowledging and taking responsibility for the harm that’s been caused, making amends however possible, and taking steps to change behavior so the harm does not continue. This requires that we develop skills in introspection, communication and sitting with discomfort. It requires us to ask, “What are the actions I can take to make things as right as possible, given that I can’t go back and undo what was done?”
Theoretically, these practices could transfer seamlessly into the psychedelic community. Is this a utopian vision, or is there hope for a lasting, truly just psychedelic movement that doesn’t self-destruct during its ascent? That depends on how committed we are to the process of change, first within ourselves and our immediate circles. Kelly offers up the long view:
“This rhythm of theory, action, and reflection has to be iterative and constantly evolving. What are we trying to do at a societal level if we can’t even figure it out in our own communities? These small exercises are maps and instructions for how we can reprogram things at a larger scale.
“Transformative justice doesn’t really make sense until you are involved in testing it out and applying it in the laboratory of your life. Testing it out in low-stake situations will help these concepts make sense. Then, when the going gets tough, you have muscle memory to handle more difficult scenarios.
“There’s a certain role that everyday facilitators and community organizers can play. Right now, that is where the gap is. So, how can we rise to the occasion ourselves to take these skills that seem professionalized and translate them into everyday skills? Transformative justice is not about running social services through non-profits and institutions. Those may be effective for other things, but there’s something else that can happen in a less codified way, in these intimate TJ settings, and that’s the change we’re trying to achieve.”
In other words, change begins at home. We’ve got to redefine justice on a personal level and learn to be accountable for ourselves and our immediate circles before we’re ready to make institutional change. Here are a few places to start:
Accountability: What Each Of Us Can Do Right Now
Invite mentors and elders into your life
Commit to a practice of brutally honest personal reflection
Get in touch with your body. Notice what comes up when you feel guilty, ashamed, threatened, accused, or misunderstood. Notice these emotions in minor situations and develop tools for managing them
Practice rupture and repair cycles in personal relationships
Learn how to apologize effectively
Develop capacity for uncomfortable conversations
Ask your peers for feedback
Create a culture of radical honesty & authenticity in your relationships
Practice following through on your commitments
Enlist a specific set of trusted “tough love” peers to be in close proximity and call you in when needed
How do we choose the right people to be our inner circle of accountability? Kelly lays out some considerations.
“It might not be your best friend. It might be your coworker, sibling, or neighbor. It’s more about the quality of the relationship than the quantity of people. Who do you share a depth of trust with? Where are the spaces in your life where you can receive direct feedback? The broken conditions of the world can feed into our ideas of victimization and defensiveness.
“When you’re activated, you may not be able to really hear critique. But who can, despite all of this, hang in there through the worst of the hurdles you put up; to have compassion for your human experience and essentially bear hug you into accountability? Who can say: ‘Yes, you can scream, cry, yell, etc. I’m able to hear your initial round of deflection and excuses. I may or may not validate them. But now that that’s off your chest, can you get to a place where you’re able to listen? It may be weeks or months later, but I’ll be here as a support person.’”
Healing For Our Descendants
The theory of transformation is one thing; the embodied, lived experience of it is something else entirely. As many of us can attest, the cosmic downloads we receive during a psychedelic experience may be profound, but the real magic happens as we integrate these insights into our lives. The same is true for accountability: Documentaries, books, and philosophy of change are solid starting points, but they carry with them a call to integrate this new knowledge meaningfully into our lives.
Integrity begins within ourselves, then expands into our relationships, our networks, and ultimately, as an extension, perhaps even the global community. Just as raindrops fill a stream, streams feed into rivers, and rivers become the ocean, it’s impossible to separate the individual from the collective.
How long might it take to really see a shift we envision? When will accountability, rather than punishment, be the norm?
“Realistically, we probably need another… fifty years of actively changing.” Esteban tells me. “Keep in mind, we don’t just suddenly ‘REACH SCALE’. Society changes through gradual, and sometimes speedy, transformation, but even that takes time to take root.”
Fifty years! In the psychedelic context, when we talk about the medicine of ancestral healing, we’re not just talking about healing backwards in time. We’re also healing for our descendants. We have the opportunity to pass along a heritage more healed and intact than what we’ve inherited. Healing our ancestral lines while we’re still living will likely take our whole lifetimes; this is a beautiful, fundamental expression of accountability. We are taking what we’ve been given, understanding its roots and working to transform it.
We not only need each other, we also need to trust and be trusted. We can acknowledge the windows of opportunity before us, but let’s commit to the long path and remind one another of the healing vision and our deep belonging when the noise gets too loud or our shadows come out to play.
Rebecca Martinez is a Xicana writer, parent and community organizer born and raised in Portland, Oregon. She is a co-founder of the Fruiting Bodies Collective, an advocacy group, podcast and multimedia platform addressing the intersections between healing justice and the psychedelics movement. Rebecca served as the Event & Volunteer Coordinator for the successful Measure 109 campaign, an unprecedented state initiative which creates a legal framework for psilocybin therapy in Oregon. She is also the author of Edge Play: Tales From a Quarter Life Crisis, a memoir about psychedelic healing after family trauma, spiritual abuse, and police violence. She serves on the Health Equity Subcommittee for Oregon’s Psilocybin Advisory Board as well as the Board of Advisors for the Plant Medicine Healing Alliance.
What is “moral injury” and how might psychedelics help?
Moral injury refers to the biopsychosocial-spiritual suffering stemming from participating, witnessing, or learning about events that transgress one’s deeply held moral beliefs (Litz et al., 2009; Shay, 2004). Moral injury is not a new construct, and the idea of a “soul wound” has long been evident in the writings of Homer and Plato. However, over the past 15 to 20 years, the term moral injury has resurged as a focus within the field of clinical psychology and psychiatry. At the same time, psychedelics are similarly experiencing a renaissance. Is this mere coincidence or an indication of a deeper underlying process at play? How might psychedelics hold promise for healing moral injury?
Moral injury is not a psychiatric diagnosis (Farnsworth et al., 2017; Jinkerson, 2016), but it can include feelings of guilt, shame, anger, disgust, and sadness, thoughts of personal regret and systemic failures, and avoidance and self-handicapping behaviors (Ang, 2017). Considered to be more “syndromal” than “normative” moral pain, moral injury is associated with significant impairment in relational, health, and occupational functioning as demonstrated by poorer trajectories in these areas (e.g., Maguen et al., 2020; Purcell et al., 2016).
Although the two often co-exist, moral injury is distinct from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). While PTSD is largely rooted in and characterized by fear-based conceptualizations (i.e., focus on life threat, victimization) and symptoms, moral injury is rooted in perpetration, complicity, and betrayal and characterized by moral emotions (guilt, shame, spiritual conflict). Largely studied in the context of military experiences (see Griffin et al., 2019 for review), researchers have bifurcated morally injurious events into transgressions (by others and self) and betrayal (Bryan et al., 2016; Nash et al. 2013). However, morally injurious events are not limited to certain people or contexts, but rather range widely (e.g., killing in combat, deciding which COVID-19 patient gets a ventilator in resource-poor settings, witnessing police violence against people of color, being ordered to break rules of engagement, institutional betrayal in sexual assault cases) (e.g., Badenes-Ribera et al., 2020; Smith & Freyd, 2013; Litam & Balkin, 2021).
In my professional experience, those who experience moral injury stemming from transgression they themselves committed (either through action or inaction) can often carry deeply painful thoughts of “being a monster” and often engage in various forms of self-punishment and isolation in order to “protect others from themselves.” Most often, self-forgiveness feels like “letting oneself off the hook” for what was done, which is unacceptable. This deep sense of accountability, of course, reflects the actual inherent goodness and strong moral compass within the individual. Those who have experienced betrayal and transgression by others may find it especially difficult to trust people, carrying deep existential wounds about the goodness of humanity. However, most often, those struggling with moral injury have experienced all three of these types of wounds to various extents.
Moral injury is in essence a social wound, predicated on the morals and values constructed and shaped by communities and society (Scheder, Mahapatra, and Miller, 1987; DePrince, & Gleaves, 2007; Litam & Balkin, 2021). But how does one heal a social wound? Evidence based treatments for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), a related ailment, yield underwhelming efficacy especially in veterans, with up to 60% not experiencing meaningful improvement (Steenkamp, Litz, & Marmar, 2020). One reason for this may be that these approaches are not adequately addressing moral injuries within traumatic stress responses. Interestingly, the mental health field generally tries not to discuss morals, and yet it is clear that trauma and suffering are inextricable from morality. The false assumption of moral neutrality is deeply damaging and has allowed the mental health field to largely bypass the “moral” nature of trauma, war, and discrimination.
Relatively antithetical to current PTSD treatments, individuals struggling with moral injury need the moral violations acknowledged and held, rather than cognitively restructured away. Even in our approaches to healing, the Western mental health field places high value on the role of the individual as both the source of the problem and the solution, rather than the collective or society. In other words, it’s an individual’s “problem” and it’s on them to do the work to “heal themselves.” Much of current research is an exemplar of this through attempts to pinpoint just what’s wrong in the person’s biology, thinking, or feeling that leads them to be this way rather than searching for and acknowledging the larger truth that often trauma is a form of societal abandonment.
Thus, moral injury has been shied away from at least in part because it requires us to collectively acknowledge and take responsibility for the traumas that happen and their moral roots. Indeed, more often than not, those with transgression by self-related moral injury withhold these experiences from the therapist out of fear of moral judgment. People are often unsure if the person can confront and hold the truths of war and the dark side of humanity without restructuring it away. The same is often true for transgressions by others and betrayal related to racial trauma. However, to heal moral injury necessitates that we carry our share of the weight by confronting the social responsibility we have for each other. In other words, to move through moral injury, a society must actively incorporate and care for their individuals.
Individuals struggling with moral injury need the moral violations acknowledged and held, rather than cognitively restructured away.
Indeed, a recent groundbreaking study in warriors from Turkana, a non-Western, small-scale society, showed the robust buffering effects of having explicitly moral-affirming cultural norms, social responsibility, and integration (Zefferman & Matthew, 2021). This is in line with recent efforts to incorporate community healing ceremonies into treatment for veterans. For example, Cenkner, Yeomans, Antal, and Scott (2020) found a ceremony in which veterans shared testimony on their moral injury with the general public significantly decreased depression, and improved self-compassion, spiritual struggles, personal growth, and psychological functioning. These findings provide preliminary evidence of the healing potential of communitas for moral injury, which is where psychedelics come in.
Psychedelics may create the opportunity for individuals to connect with the prosocial sense of communitas inherent in us all. Psychedelic compounds including empathogens (e.g., MDMA), classic psychedelics (e.g., psilocybin, LSD, ayahuasca), and dissociatives (e.g., ketamine) may provide both the context and content needed to treat moral injury. Psychedelics have the ability to “reopen” critical windows to feelings, thoughts, perceptions, and sensations previously blocked by the ego’s well-intended presence (Brouwer & Carhart-Harris, 2020). Psychedelics induce interactive neural and neuromodular effects across whole brain systems (Carhart-Harris & Friston, 2019), which translate to a context in which rigid patterns of thinking, relating, and feeling are relaxed, allowing for more psychological flexibility (Davis, Barrett, & Griffiths, 2020).
Beyond providing the flexible ego-relaxed context, psychedelics may also “naturally” generate the content for treating moral injury and PTSD. Unlike evidence-based therapies, psychedelic-assisted therapies use non-directive approaches and although there is certainly preparation, there is no way to “enforce” what material is covered during dosing sessions. Despite this, evidence across numerous studies reveals psilocybin and other classic psychedelics consistently incline users toward confronting traumatic material and salient autobiographical memories, which relate self through past, present, and future (i.e., self-definition, expectations) (Camlin et al., 2018; Gasser et al., 2015; Malone et al., 2018; Watts et al., 2017). This is representative of the innate healing wisdom within each person. Much like how the body’s cells know what to do when a physical wound happens, the psyche on psychedelics appears to be naturally directed to the wound, toward confronting suppressed traumatic material, and limiting self-other concepts in need of healing.
There has been no empirical investigation to date into the use of empathogens (e.g., MDMA) or classic psychedelics as a treatment for moral injury. However, MDMA has been extensively studied as a treatment for PTSD, with very promising efficacy in reducing symptoms in combat veterans (Mithoefer et al., 2018). Announced this year, Drs. Amy Lehmer and Rachel Yehuda at the Bronx VA will be conducting a study using MDMA to treat moral injury in veterans (Lehmer & Yehuda, 2021). MDMA holds much promise for healing moral wounds in those who served, likely through its empathogenic qualities. Of particular relevance to military populations, MDMA may facilitate moral injury recovery through increases in self-other forgiveness and self-other compassion. It may help those suffering from moral injury disclose the experiences and get unblocked from beliefs about deserving to suffer and the unacceptability of forgiveness.
To elucidate this point, I spoke with John*, a Special Operation Forces post-9/11 veteran who deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. John has also used psychedelics to treat his moral injury and PTSD.
John shared, “MDMA has allowed me to pull back from how I view the actions I took during war. I now see what I did as reactions to my environment based on the limited insights I had in a moment. The military created me, created my wolf mindset. I see now that I was just operating from how they made me. It’s given me the ability to see myself from a distanced perspective, and I can more accurately see cause and effect without judging myself. I used to view these experiences with just endless pits of guilt and shame, and now I see myself and what I did with much more compassion and forgiveness instead.”
Classic psychedelics may also provide unique benefit for moral injury through the opportunities of mystical experiences and ego-dissolution. Unlike MDMA (Holze et al., 2020), classic psychedelics can induce mystical and ego-dissolution experiences, which can include feelings of boundlessness, oneness with the larger world and reality, a sense of being eternal, and feelings of sacredness (Griffiths et al., 2008; James, Robershaw, Hoskisn, & Sessa, 2019). These experiences can foster a sense of personal meaning or purpose, often depleted in the wake of moral injury, and may offer an alternative felt sense to “feeling damaged or bad.”
The ego-relaxing effects of default mode network disruption may allow for the concept of self and others to be examined and redefined to integrate broader, more complex (e.g., “I’m a father, soldier, caretaker, friend”) versus singular organizations (e.g., “I’m a soldier”). Specific traumatic and morally injurious events can be “de-centered” or “de-weighted” from a person’s identity (Bernsten and Rubin, 2006); which could be considered akin to being able to do parts work (e.g., Jungian archetypes, Internal Family Systems). Relatedly, there is a strong body of evidence showing the effect of classic psychedelics on fostering prosocial affect and cognitions typically impoverished in moral injury such as self-other forgiveness, self-compassion, and connection (Carhart-Harris et al., 2016; MacLean et al., 2011; Pokorny et al., 2017; Preller et al., 2020; Wagner et al., 2017).
Classic psychedelic induced ego-dissolution and noetic experiences (e.g., oneness) may also aid in restructuring the “self” by highlighting our true connectedness with others, the natural world, and spirituality previously hidden by psychic pain. So often, those with moral injury report having lost their faith because what happened, or having their faith turn into solely a source of self-condemnation. Spirituality is often shied away from or at best, selectively present in the mental health field despite substantial ethical guidelines suggesting otherwise. The ubiquity of spirituality in psychedelic experiences will hopefully serve as a catalyst for the mental health field to fully incorporate this essential healing ingredient moving forward. Indeed, mystical and ego-dissolution experiences are consistently shown to be critical for positive treatment outcomes (e.g., Carhart-Harris et al., 2018; Griffiths et al., 2016; Haijen et al., 2018; Roseman, Nutt, & Carhart-Harris, 20118; Ross et al., 2016), suggesting the extent to which “I” can become “we” or “one/all” is important for alleviating psychiatric suffering. It also therefore stands to reason that both individual and group psychedelic-assisted therapies may be of particular benefit to moral injury. One could even imagine the therapeutic potential of complementing psychedelic assisted therapies with community liturgy approaches like those described above.
Consistent therapy and ritualistic medicine sessions with psychedelics has given me the ability to rise out of the grip that guilt and shame had on me. I no longer feel like I don’t deserve to have a good life.
Although there has been no investigation on moral injury to date, there is some converging supportive evidence for classic psychedelics. In gay-identified long-term AIDS survivors who had lived through many potentially morally injurious events in the 1980s and 1990s, psilocybin-assisted group therapy significantly reduced demoralization, a form of existential suffering characterized by loss of meaning, hopelessness, and poor coping (Anderson et al., 2020). Half of the sample reported reductions in demoralization of 50% or greater by the end of treatment. In people with substance misuse, psilocybin and ibogaine increase acceptance of past behavior and self-other forgiveness and reduce guilt, respectively (Bogenschutz et al., 2018; Heink, Katsikas, & Lange-Altman, 2017). Similarly, psilocybin induces realizations of being a “good person” in people with treatment resistant depression (Watts et al., 2017). These findings hint at the potential of classic psychedelics to change relationships to past wrongdoings and heal existential wounds, but experimental evidence is needed.
When asked about possible differences across types of psychedelics, John shared:
“I’ve used psilocybin, LSD, and ayahuasca for the strict purpose of working on myself. These medicines have allowed me to perceive myself, my actions/behaviors as part of the collective whole of humanity. They’ve created a sense of being a super-organism of humanity! When I got back from war, I didn’t belong. I didn’t know this world, I had been in war for five years, all of my adult life to date. I knew I wasn’t really welcome… people didn’t know what to do with what I had been through so I didn’t talk about any of it. I did go to therapy and got cognitive therapy. It helped, but honestly, it barely scratched the surface. There was a level of being blocked that I just couldn’t break through and I just couldn’t get past the shame. But, as I’ve continued to work with psychedelics, I’ve been able to experience my ego dissolve, I felt integrated with all others, even stretching beyond humanity and merging with all forms of life and matter. The lasting guilt and shame from the harm that I caused people because of my actions and inactions has shifted to a more understanding and forgiving stance. War still pops into my mind within the first minutes of waking every morning, but consistent therapy and ritualistic medicine sessions with psychedelics has given me the ability to rise out of the grip that guilt and shame had on me. I no longer feel like I don’t deserve to have a good life. I can see my badness, but I can see my goodness, too. I still have the number of harms I’ve done in my head, but I am focused now on living a full life, doing enough good helping others that maybe one day will balance out that number.”
The rising trend of both psychedelics and moral injury suggest a communitas evolution. The symbiotic renaissance is evidence that society is increasingly tiring of the false perception of individuality. Acknowledging the ineffable truth of our interconnectedness and interdependence on each other for safety and wellbeing is the path to healing—for moral injury and for all of us.
In sum, I leave you with these questions: If moral injury is a social wound, is depression not also a social wound? Is addiction not a social wound? How might reworking the current psychiatric model to legitimize the moral fallout of trauma change the way we understand and treat psychic pain?
*John is a pseudonym as the veteran wishes to remain anonymous.
*Even though this article speaks to the benefits of those with moral injury using psychedelics, it is no way advocated that such individuals should seek to self-medicate. In sharing his story, John* would like to make it clear that he is not advocating for others to self-experiment as he did, rather, his aim is to spark interest in researchers to find more data on this in hopes of providing relief for others.
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About the Author
Dr. Amanda Khan is a licensed clinical psychologist in private practice in California and researcher at the University of California, San Diego (UCSD). She specializes treating trauma, PTSD, and anxiety and depression and offers depth work, evidence-based treatments, and post-psychedelic integration. She has worked as an independent contractor on MAPS MDMA-enhanced psychotherapy for PTSD clinical trials for the past four years. Dr. Khan is trained ketamine-assisted psychotherapy and will serve as psilocybin therapist on the phantom limb UCSD clinical trial in the Fall. She is also currently enrolled in the MAPS MDMA Therapy Training Program. Dr. Khan serves as Chair for the Moral Injury special interest group for the International Society for Traumatic Stress Studies (ISTSS). She writes for Medium and Stress Points, and regularly gives talks and workshops on moral injury as well as working with gender and sexual orientation diverse people. In her spare time, she eats a questionable amount of tahini and enjoys hiking with her partner.
A former NAVY SEAL struggling with PTS and TBI is granted ibogaine and 5-MeO treatment in Mexico by an anonymous donation through VETS, and returns home with more than he could have ever imagined.
Whoever paid for me… thank you.
It was the most profound weekend of my life.
I didn’t expect too much. I guess I anticipated that this would be like most of the other “cutting edge” treatments for my traumatic brain injury and post traumatic stress: pretty cool, it’d help a bit, I’d be grateful, but that’d be about it.
But here I am, two weekends from my treatment, struggling to find the words to accurately convey how transformative this was for me—how transformative it will be for any of us who are willing to let go, really. I keep typing things and then erasing them, thinking I must sound like a crazy person—some wild-eyed zealot who’s just too far-out to relate to. But then I think… this is the most far-out thing I have ever experienced in this life and whatever crazy talk I throw at you won’t be crazy enough to cover what went down.
In other words: I expected a firecracker and I got about six pounds of C4.
I guess I’ll just stop struggling for adjectives and “as ifs” and just tell you my story. Keep in mind please, as I do, that I can’t stand hippie, new age bullshit, and while I grew up in the church, I’m not particularly religious.
So yeah… joke’s on me.
We’re first introduced to the rest of the group via Signal secure text messaging. I’m stoked to see that a classmate of mine from BUD/S, whom I hadn’t seen in almost 20 years, is going to be there, but the other guys I don’t know. Everyone seems a little held back, but that’s to be expected considering the circumstances.
We meet in San Diego on Friday afternoon for lunch, which is to be our last meal for the day, as we need to be in a fasted state for the ibogaine treatment that night. Little did I know that it would be pretty much the last thing I’d eat until lunch on Sunday.
After an uneventful drive of several hours, we arrive at the treatment house in Mexico and everything kicks into gear as a smoothly-functioning operation. The facilitators arrange the spaces, the doctor and his medical staff take urine samples, do EKGs on all of us, start IVs, and lay out some pretty impressive medical support gear for what I imagined to be a fairly low-risk event.
A photo by the author of where the Ibogaine session took place.
**Quick aside here: when I signed up for this, I thought it would be beneficial, sure, but as I started doing the preparatory work that I was sent by the organization, weirdly, things started coming up. Family issues. Relationships. Parts of me and things I’d seen and done that I’d buried out of shame or disgust. They said, “The medicine would start working before you take it,” and it really did. So by this point, I was open to something a lot more than what it appeared to be on the surface. So back to our story….
Evening approaches, and we gather around the fireplace. There’s an air of solemnity, but I can tell not all of us are bought in. Or maybe just none of us are at 100% yet. Most of us are pretty closed off, if still willing. It’s just kind of a SEAL thing, I guess.
We write down what we want to leave behind, and we take turns burning our paper in the fire. It’s quiet except for the crackle from the flames, and then the doc passes out our ibogaine doses (measured for our bodyweight) in little wooden bowls. It feels like a sacrament.
Solemnly, we take our medicine, and one by one, the facilitators lead us upstairs to be saged and smudged as a cleansing before moving to our mattresses. Curiously, the cleansing has a gravitas and weight to it that crumbles and dismisses all the shallow and thin echoes of spirituality in yoga studios and SoulCycles across Los Angeles. I receive it with humility.
Settling in on our mattresses, it’s dark. Only flickering candles and the fading light from the sun just below the ocean’s horizon remain to illuminate the room. The medical staff move quietly through, attaching heart monitor leads and O2 clips on our fingers and chests. Once they complete their tasks, I pull my eyeshade down over my eyes and lay back to wait.
Hyper-attentive to my mind and body, several times over the next half-hour, I think, “Is this it?… No… not yet…”
And then it comes.
Uber-detailed and realized visions flood my mind’s eye. They’re nightmares in 4K. I’ve never seen anything with the detail and clarity through my physical eyes that I’m experiencing now. I am completely in a dream yet 100% in my body. Unknowable machines possessed with alien intelligence build and fold out of the space like fractals from some dark pit. Strange visions that make no sense. A nightmare buzzing, like the sky is being chainsawed apart, howls with a clearly defined shape (shape?!) above my head. There’s a loud talking, without cadence or expression, just behind my left ear. It never ceases or pauses and I understand not a word. I open my eyes under the eyeshade and immediately I’m in fields of stars. I close them and I’m back in an alien, machine hell. They told us that if it gets to be too much, raise your eyeshade and you can come out of the visions, but I keep my eyeshade on. I want all of what the medicine has for me.
I begin to dry-heave. I feel hands around me, holding me in a sitting position. The retching is violent and back-to-back, four, five, eight times. Soon I’m laying down again, fighting the urge to vomit. The visions add strange, expressionless, soulless people standing and sitting around me. Again, they’re alien; there is nothing human about them. It must be hours that I try to make sense, assign meaning, figure out the visions, until, worn out, I give up. Just let them come, I think, and I let go.
Innumerable hours pass, or is it minutes? I try to move my arm and my leg, and while I can, nothing’s coordinated. It’s as if I’m operating a crane, and while I can pull one lever at a time, I can’t make the arm do anything resembling a smooth or efficient motion. I really need to piss but can’t conceive of trying to stand right now.
At some point during the night, six, seven, eight hours later, the “visionary stage” ceases, my mind quiets, and the literal nightmare I’ve been in ends. I’m in a trance-like state now, apparently what they refer to as the “contemplative stage.”
Bullshit.
All I’m contemplating is how tumbled and empty I feel. I still need to piss but can’t move. Unfocused, I feel like I’ve had a hard reset and I’m in the BIOS of the motherboard. Everything is in two-toned, 8-bit graphics. I pull off the O2 monitor and scrape off the eyeshade. I close my eyes but don’t sleep. At some point, I notice the sun rise.
A photo of where the author’s Ibogaine session took place.
Several hours later, I look around the room. All of us are glued to our mattresses in various interpretations of a full-body rictus. No movement.
Sometime later in the afternoon, around three or four I’d guess, I get up and make my way to the restroom and then downstairs. I manage to grab a banana off the counter (which takes a couple tries) and slide down to the floor and eat it. Judging from the expressions on the faces of the staff, I must look like shit… and it appears that they’ve seen this before, or maybe even experienced this themselves.
One of the facilitators comes to me, brings me to the couch, and does some “energy work” on me. I’m too worn out to resist the hippie bullshit… and surprisingly, it helps. A lot. Even though they had no meaning to me, I manage to write down my visions (not that I’ll ever forget them), then make it back upstairs to my mattress.
Several hours later, we attempt dinner. I don’t know how much the other guys manage to get down, but I think I get about two spoonfuls. There’s very little movement and lots of agonized expressions around the table.
Back to bed we go in silence, and in the dark of Saturday night or perhaps the wee hours of Sunday morning, my trance fades and I fall asleep.
When I wake on Sunday morning, I feel like a fever broke in the night. You know the feeling: You’re worn out, exhausted, but you know it’s over. The sickness is gone, leaving only relief.
Still weak, but ravenous, I make it downstairs and as my greedy hands begin to shove food towards my mouth, the facilitator kindly tells me that I still need to be in a fasted state for the 5-MeO-DMT, which we’ll be doing in a few hours.
MORE psychedelics?! I honestly don’t feel up for it. I don’t really want any more than what I’ve just experienced, but I’m in this for the whole enchilada (food metaphors? Fuck, I’m hungry) and I’m committed to following the whole program. I can tell I’m not the only one with hesitation though.
As the rest of the guys make their way downstairs, we gather again around the fireplace and the staff talks us through what’s going to happen next. One of the other guys expresses his doubts about the 5-MeO-DMT, and the facilitator reassures us that this is nothing like the ibogaine. It’s complementary, she says, a nice bookend to what we just experienced. “Hope they’re not matching bookends,” I think.
As she finishes with the brief, the two SEALs there helping out (who had gone through this before) offer a few words: “It’s like a deep dive in the ocean. You’re down 150 feet and it’s beautiful and quiet, and the water pressure is intense, and you’re at peace… but then you look over, and there’s a deep, dark abyss. If you have it in you, go down there. That’s where the jewels are.”
I think we all make up our minds at this point to go all the way, no matter what it feels like.
The staff gives us the order we are to go in and I’m number three of five. They tell us to go wait our turn by the pool, and mention it’s helpful to write what we’re feeling, so I grab my journal and head out to find a private spot by one of the fire pits around the pool. I begin to write, awkwardly, my muscles still not in agreement with my head yet, and I manage to stain the top of a clean page with: “I don’t I.” Frustrated that my hand, brain, and intentions all seem to be separate entities, I try again. This time, slowly, I write:
Ibogaine was a nightmare in 4K that I couldn’t stop or wake up from. I could make no sense of it then or now. I think I had expectations for the medicine as much as I tried not to. I have no expectations of 5-MeO. None whatsoever. It will be what it will be.
I start to put the pen down… but pause… and write:
I feel… different
It’s true. Something’s subtly very different. I write again:
I feel… present
Shocked into an introspective silence, I look inward and feel a clean openness in my soul, like all the accumulated and stored entanglements of my life have been quietly discarded, and I now only recognize they had ever been there by their absence.
Kind of stunned, I sit there with myself and savor the feeling. I haven’t felt this… free since I was probably about twelve. And as I rest in this quiet, subtle peace, awestruck… I hear our first 5-MeO guy scream from the house 50 meters away.
As my turn arrives, I’m led into the house by one of the SEALs helping out. Up the stairs, I’m smudged and saged again, and led into the room. It’s kind of sacred. Candles. Music. The doctor and facilitators have really set the space and I can feel it. Speaking in hushed tones, they sit me up on the single mattress covered in a spotless white sheet, and almost in whispers, describe what’s about to happen. The doctor shows me the vaporizer, inscribed with a medical caduceus, and the three doses of toad venom I’m about to encounter. “The profound from the humble,” I think, and then I’m inhaling the “handshake dose,” just to familiarize me with the process. Easy enough, and with no effects to speak of, I pull my eyeshade over my eyes and we move on to the first real dose. I inhale again as the doctor instructs me, holding for a count of ten, then exhale and fall backwards as instructed.
Only just as I begin exhaling, the world explodes. Gorgeous fractals in vivid primary colors, more detailed and distinct than anything my eyes have ever viewed fills… my field of vision? No… my field of consciousness. I can barely feel that I have a body. Bliss suffuses all of me (what is “me”?) and all I feel is love. I remember what the SEAL downstairs said—that if you can handle it, go deeper. Since I’m able to have these thoughts, I figure there must be room left, so I clumsily signal for another dose. Halfway in my body, I’m pulled to a sitting position and again feel the vaporizer against my lips. Drawing deeply and holding, I hear the doctor count down from five. Far away, he whispers, “Exhale…”
…and I die.
No, really. I die. And here is where words begin to fail.
I feel my body atomize and it’s GONE. I’m in a blackness that is teeming, but warm. Infinite. It’s gentle, but I sense that the gentleness, while truly the essence of this Consciousness, is not all of it, and the power… there is no word that can convey the awesome power of this place. It is infinite possibility. And I? I am a speck, a tiny ripple, a wavelet upon an Ocean so vast and deep, how could I have ever thought; how could I have forgotten that I am no less separate from this great Consciousness than a wave is seperate from the Ocean? How can a ripple be apart from the sea? I am no longer “me,” but still completely “I.” And I remember whatI am.
I feel a scream coming from deep, and it happens—from somewhere I scream, and I hear it as an observer. But here’s the weird(est) thing. Time has no meaning here, and as I hear this scream, I know that this scream is not just from “now.” It’s from five years ago, and 20, and from when I was two, and from when my parents divorced, and from Afghanistan, and from yesterday. The linear time we live in has condensed to a singularity and this scream is from my now, my past, and probably my future.
I don’t know time, space, or have any ties to what I used to know. There is only existence returned from whence I came, and then, at some point in time or space…
…I walk through the Gates of Heaven.
(If you’re still with me, believe me, I know how this sounds.)
Hands around me, bright light more beautiful than anything I have ever seen, and the purest love, acceptance, grace, and right-ness permeates my existence. The greatest feeling I have ever experienced or could possibly imagine is dwarfed by this feeling. I pull my eyeshade off, and with pure wonder and without the slightest insincerity, think, “Are we dead? Are all of you angels?” I lay there on the mattress, alternately weeping with the sorrow of what we’ve lost and laughing with the realization of what we are, and I whisper, “I am born.”
I will never be the same. I wish I could convey more of this experience to you but words are useless. Ibogaine reached deep inside of me and wrapped up all my trauma and sorrow. It wrapped it up in a dark, wet, moldy, wool blanket and when I screamed, it all came out. I walk around every day in awe, feeling this, seeing with new eyes. I didn’t learn anything, I just remembered.
My brain works now too. It’s the strangest thing. Words flow. Thoughts sizzle. Synapses fire and I can discuss, read, think, and elucidate in ways I haven’t been able to in at least 15 years. I feel smart again. All the TBI had made things slow and fuzzy, but these medicines lit up all the lobes, cortices, stems, and folds of my brain and shocked them back into activity (not a scientific analysis, of course). It was starter fluid for my grey matter.
My relationships are healing. My dad and I are reconciling. He’s so happy. So am I.
I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on regarding this therapy and the history and use of psychedelics (I prefer the newer term, “entheogens” these days—it means to “create the divine within”).
These are not drugs. This is powerful, powerful medicine and it has the potential to do enormous good. These are sacraments that require much of you and will bring you what you need and are prepared for.
It is not the molecule, but the door that it opens.
To my benefactor: thank you. I’m going to do my part to take this newfound remembering and make the world better, and bring it to as many people as I can. And the most unexpected, beautiful realization? The Brotherhood that we fight with, for, and next to—the ones who scar us and scar with us are also the ones healing us. What an amazing thing!!!!
I never thought I’d be signing off like this, but….
Defining sacred reciprocity, exploring the historical use of psychedelics, and establishing ways to give back to the communities who have lost the most holding this ancient wisdom.
Nature exists in a dynamic balance of interconnected relationships and exchanges. When more is taken than returned, the results are depletion, imbalance and system collapse. Many of us in the Global North have the advantage of enjoying psychedelics simply by purchasing them or receiving them as a gift. We are no longer in direct relationship with their roots or required to know where they came from, who grew them, or how they were sourced and produced. We do not bear the historic or contemporary burdens carried by those for whom entheogens are integral to their way of life.
The psychedelic movement is surging, in part because many of us have had the privilege of direct, life-altering experiences with these substances. These medicines, whether grown or synthesized, give generously, often in the form of healing, wonder, reconnection, play and illumination. But they don’t exist in a vacuum. Thankfully, they also offer the capacity for openness—and this unlocks a door to a more nuanced and responsible conversation about where our medicines come from and the impacts of our participation in what has become, for better or worse, a global market.
Just as being good stewards on this Earth requires us to know the stories behind our food, clothing, fuel and devices, we also have a calling to ask deeper questions about psychedelics. What don’t we know about the places, cultures, ecologies, peoples, and complex histories associated with the healing modalities we venerate? In asking these questions, we can uncover practical and meaningful ways to contribute to a culture of reciprocity, sustainability and integrity, toward the benefit of all. Then we can begin to see how this reciprocity lays the groundwork for collective healing.
Sacred reciprocity offers an opportunity to help restore balance to a presently imbalanced system of extraction amidst the global expansion of psychedelics.
Reciprocity requires an exchange of value, to be sure—but it should be a meaningful contribution to which we bring our whole selves, rather than simply a bill that we pay.
What Is Sacred Reciprocity?
Sacred reciprocity is the heartfelt exchange, gratitude, and acknowledgment for everyone and everything that sustains us. In psychedelics, it is a call for those who consume plant medicines to give back meaningfully to the communities and lineages who have preserved these medicines for generations. Indigenous communities bear the impact of the expansion, along with, in many cases, oppression from local governments.
The concept of sacred reciprocity comes from the Quechua word, ayni. Quechua is the Indigenous language of the ancestral peoples of the Andes, specifically Peru. Ayni is a principle of receptivity and gratitude, marked by a lifestyle of giving back in an inhale-exhale type relationship with the natural world.
Even those who consume only lab-based substances can participate in sacred reciprocity through a number of practices detailed here.
The History of Indigenous Psychedelic Use
Here’s a quick and dirty history lesson.
So, where and from whom do our medicines come? What is their traditional use? The following list is by no means exhaustive, and it’s important to remember that many entheogens are found throughout multiple continents and their practices vary between lineages. Additionally, much history has been lost and erased through the process of colonization. We recognize the unnamed groups and honor their heritage from which modern life has been severed.
Psilocybin
Psilocybin-containing mushrooms are sacred to many indigenous communities in Mexico, especially in the mountains of Oaxaca.
Psilocybin mushrooms have confirmed Indigenous roots in Central America, most notably the Mazatec people of Oaxaca, Mexico (recall the oft-told tale of Maria Sabina and R. Gordon Wasson), as well as the Mixtec, Nashua and Zapotec peoples.
It has been theorized that ancient Greeks used a combination of psychedelic mushrooms and ergot fungus in their ceremonial brews. Evidence of ceremonial mushroom use has also been found in Africa, with Algerian cave paintings dating back 9,000 years and psilocybe mushrooms found in Central Africa and South Sudan.
Modern Mazatec people have spoken of the “Hippie Invasion” of the ‘60s and the way the commodification of sacred mushrooms reshaped their communities. Learn more about Mazatec Perspectives on the Globalization of Psilocybin in this article from Chacruna Institute.
Ayahuasca
Ayahuasca, also called caapi, yajé, or yagé, is a ceremonial drink made from the stem and bark of the Banisteriopsis caapi vine and the leaves of Chacruna (Psychotria viridis) or other botanicals. It was first formulated by Indigenous South Americans of the Amazon basin, particularly modern day Brazil, Peru, Colombia and Ecuador. In 2010, a 1,000- year old bundle of shamanic herbs with ayahuasca was found in a cave in Bolivia. Ceremonial use for the Shipibo-Conibo people does not always include chacruna leaves, which contain DMT.
While the Shipibo people are the most well-known tribe associated with ayahuasca medicine, close to 100 distinct Indigenous groups use ayahuasca. The global expansion of ayahuasca tourism (and the Western emphasis on visions and DMT) has led to overharvesting, deforestation, violence, non-Indigenous owned retreat centers and competition between shamans.
In addition, deforestation in the Amazon has reached record highs, which has a global impact on climate instability. Yet, a 2020 study found what many First Nations people have often said and may seem obvious: Collective Indigenous property ownership reduces deforestation and protects human rights, as well as cultural and biodiversity.
Peyote
Peyote is sacred to many Native American and Mexican communities. It contains mescaline.
Peyote is a sacred cactus native to what is now known as the American Southwest, Mexico and Peru. With a human-plant relationship dating back 10,000 years, this ceremonial cactus has been used in rites of passage and annual pilgrimages by Native American and Mexican Indigenous groups for millennia and is inseparable from cultural heritage for many tribes, including the Wixaritari, Raramuri, Yaqui and Cora peoples.
Peyote contains mescaline, a psychoactive substance also found in Huachuma (San Pedro cactus). For the last century, Indigenous groups have fought convoluted government policies, environmental degradation, private land ownership, poaching, mining, and urbanization.
The Indigenous Peyote Conservation Initiative is a collaborative effort to preserve peyote and ensure the survival of this sacred practice for generations to come. Learn more here.
Huachuma
Known as the grandfather of entheogens, Huachuma (which came to be known as San Pedro after the Spanish Invasion) is a cactus native to Peru and Bolivia. Its use can be traced back 4,000 years. With roots in the Andes, this medicinal plant is associated with the Chavín culture, which laid the foundations for the Inca civilization. Stone temple slabs dating back to 1,300 B.C. show a figure holding a huachuma cactus.
Huachuma contains mescaline, and while it is legal in the United States to grow the cactus for ornamental purposes, consuming mescaline is illegal. Because it grows so much faster than peyote and is more widely available, conservation and Indigenous rights advocates recommend that those who feel called toward a relationship with mescaline choose huachuma rather than peyote. In this way we can preserve peyote in solidarity with the Native American communities for whom it is a sacrament.
Rapé
Tobacco is one of the oldest and most important shamanic medicines in the Americas. It is impossible to separate Indigenous history in the Americas from the ceremonial use of tobacco, known as Mapacho. Rapé (also called Hapé or Rapéh) is a form of sacred Amazonian snuff tobacco. It is made by combining dried tobacco leaves (Nicotiana Rustica) with sacred tree ash and other botanicals and grinding it into a dust-fine powder. Blends are distinct from tribe to tribe and the shamanic process of making rapé can take several weeks. It is known for its grounding and stimulating qualities.
Tobacco is not prohibited in most of the world the way other entheogens are. However, this open legal market has created other concerns. In recent years, an explosion in global interest in rapé has resulted in many white-owned “shamanic supply” businesses popping up online, selling rapé and other Amazonian medicines on web stores and Instagram. It is wise to dig deeper when companies claim they are in partnership with local tribes or have a “trusted source.” Keep in mind that “a portion of proceeds returned to the tribes” and “mutually beneficial relationship” are undefined and potentially exploitative claims and fair trade practices aren’t always readily enforced.
Kambo
Kambo, also known as toad medicine, is a controversial ritual. Historical use of kambo is very different than the modern practice. Hunters in the Matsés tribe of Peru would coat their blow darts with the frog poison, believing that this purified the animal they shot. They would then bring the animal back to their village to be sacrificed and eaten. Kambo is quite different than other Indigenous medicines; the modern practice, as Westerners know it, seems to be a new invention. The first human use of Kambo (for sharpening the skills of hunters) was documented in 1925 by French missionaries. It was popularized in the 1980’s, by investigative journalist Peter Gorman, and numerous patents were also filed at this time.
Sourcing kambo involves first extracting the peptide-rich poison from the body of the Giant Leaf Frog (Phyllomedusa bicolor). This is done by catching the animals and then stressing them so that they secrete their poison, either by stretching their limbs or holding them over a fire. A stick is then used to scrape the gluey secretion from their skin and save it for later use. This biological material is shipped around the world to practitioners who promote it as a detoxification and immunity-building medicine.
Kambo practitioners burn holes in the skin of their clients and then apply the frog secretions to the wounds. The purging and immune response which follows is believed to cleanse the user of ailments and negative energies.
The Giant Leaf Frog is currently threatened by climate change and habitat loss (though it is currently listed as “Least Concern”). Furthermore, patenting kambo is yet an example of bioprospecting, which is a common practice in the incredibly diverse rainforests of the world and has major impacts on the Indigenous communities from which these molecules are sourced.
Ibogaine
Ibogaine comes from the root bark of the iboga shrub, which is native to Gabon in central West Africa. It has been used for centuries by people of the Bwiti religion as a rite of passage and initiation. The preservation and expansion of the Bwiti tradition and iboga medicine has a complex history involving French occupation, displacement, intertribal violence, religious suppression and political marginalization.
Medicalization of ibogaine began in the late 1930s, with decades of intermittent but promising research into its potential to treat substance use disorders, particularly opiate addiction. Its legal status remains complicated and restricted in many countries.
Global enthusiasm about iboga’s healing potential has created problems not unlike those faced by Indigenous Americans with peyote, such as difficulty sourcing medicine for their traditional use and ongoing political struggle to protect their practices.
Wild iboga is currently endangered in Gabon due to poaching, climate change, illegal export to satisfy international demand, urbanization and habitat degradation. As an alternative, iboga can be grown sustainably in greenhouses and farms, and advocates also point to the option of using semi-synthetic ibogaine from the voacanga tree instead.
DMT
DMT has been called the spirit molecule. This powerful, naturally occurring entheogen is concentrated in modern ayahuasca brew, thanks to the presence of chacruna leaves. It is also produced endogenously by a variety of plants, fungi and animals, including toads, salamanders, rats, shrubs, seeds and amanita mushrooms. Some have theorized that the human body even produces DMT at birth and death, and it has been found in the urine of people experiencing schizophrenia and other psychoses. DMT is structurally similar to LSD.
Due to conservation concerns, many in the movement advocate for the use of synthetically derived DMT to avoid contributing to habitat loss and extinction as interest and demand for this medicine grows.
LSD
Ergot fungus growing on rye. LSD is derived from ergot.
While tiny squares of paper blotted with synthesized LSD and printed with cartoon characters may seem the farthest thing from nature, it was first discovered by Swiss chemist, Albert Hoffman, working with ergot, a fungus that grows on rye.
Lab-Made Companions
Synthesized compounds such as LSD, MDMA, ketamine, 2C-B and others need not be excluded from the list of substances deserving of our gratitude. When we partake with intentionality, the journeys give generously back to us. Sacred reciprocity can be viewed as an essential element of psychedelic experience, regardless of the catalyzing substance.
Qualities of Sacred Reciprocity
Now that we have some context for the historical and contemporary issues surrounding entheogens and psychedelic medicines, let’s look at some guiding lights for giving back meaningfully.
Relational Reciprocity
Sacred reciprocity comes with the humble energy of the ask. To seek consent not only from the medicine itself, but also the elders and medicine keepers, is to set aside one’s own agenda in the interest of the larger good. Are we willing to take no for an answer? This is a nuanced question and cultural considerations are different with every entheogen and context. For example, partaking in ayahuasca may have different steps for accountability than partaking in home grown mushrooms. This is why moving at the speed of trust and cultivating lasting relationships is a responsible approach.
Proactive Sacred Reciprocity
Rather than an afterthought, sacred reciprocity can be woven into the entire psychedelic process, from decision making and intention through to integration and daily life. Think ahead and be intentional with how you want to give back. Involve your peers in this shared effort as well, and watch a culture of integrity bloom and flourish before your eyes.
Practical Reciprocity
When we talk about reciprocation, it’s important to focus on impact over intention. How does this action directly benefit the people, ecologies, and futures we seek to support? This is why we recommend backing organizations without intermediaries so that good intentions are not lost in translation.
Grateful Sacred Reciprocity
Every great medicine journey begins with gratitude. Whether in a deeply healing or rambunctiously festive environment, pausing for a few breaths or words of gratitude can have major impact on the ways we relate to the substances we consume, what we bring to the experience, and what we come away with. Thank the medicine, yes— but also thank the ancestors, wisdom keepers, protectors, ecologies, and chemists!
Humble Reciprocity
Readiness to listen and learn is a powerfully healing force. The forces of colonialism, which could have wiped out these medicines completely, are rooted in ideas of superiority and entitlement. Unwinding these attitudes is a process that comes full circle within the very medicine spaces that have been protected for generations.
The concept of ayni is one rooted in a living, dynamic relationship. If we fall into a guilt-driven, transactional mindset of repetitively taking and repaying, we begin to lose the heart of ayni. Reciprocity requires an exchange of value, to be sure—but it should be a meaningful contribution to which we bring our whole selves, rather than simply a bill that we pay.
Informed Sacred Reciprocity
Recognizing the true history of entheogenic medicine is a tough pill to swallow. We all benefit from the sacrifices of Indigenous groups who have preserved their heritage in the face of colonialism, genocide, religious persecution, criminalization and exploitation. Medicine work calls us to awareness. Awareness calls us to relationship. Relationship inspires action. This is a healthy cycle of responsibility that can have far reaching benefits for global healing, if we’re willing to engage with it.
Understanding also enables us to spread knowledge and context within our communities and gradually shift the culture at large.
Multi-faceted Reciprocity
Reciprocity considers the interconnected social, economic, ecological and spiritual factors at play within the global expansion of psychedelics. Offerings of gratitude seek to edify multiple facets of the movement—for example, financially resourcing native communities hit hard by COVID-19 and spreading awareness of entheogen conservation issues among your social circle are tangible ways to give back.
Committed to Sacred Reciprocity
To step into a reciprocal relationship with entheogens means stepping into the right relationship with the Indigenous communities where they originate. It is difficult to imagine an ethical way to consume psychedelics while ignoring the ongoing struggle of the very groups who have shared them with us.
Commit to supporting indigeous survival, thriving and self-determination. This includes the return of power, agency and resources to the original people of the land. The common psychonautic reprise that “we are all one” and desire to “stay out of politics” becomes difficult to justify while directly enjoying the traditions these people have made sacrifices to defend.
Complex global issues are at play here, so nuanced and open-ended relationships are the name of the game. We have to let go of short term solutions and quick fixes. This is a process of unlearning as much as learning—but the alternative is an old story in which we in the Global North unconsciously repeat the harms of the past in more subtle, but equally detrimental ways.
Commit to learning and honoring the lineage and preservation of medicines you consume (studying and sharing this article is a solid start).
Financially support Indigenous-led organizations* The Indigenous Reciprocity Initiative, hosted by Chacruna Institute, offers a directory of community-determined projects which you can support directly. Check it out here.
Use medicines sparingly. These substances are powerful, limited and rapidly declining. Consider ways to spread out your journey work, and make the most of each experience through self-responsibility, preparation and integration.
Grow your own medicines and choose medicines that can be sustainably grown or produced.
Dig into your own Indigenous history. Get into relationship with your ancestry through family, food, research, community and focused journey work. Solidarity reaches deeper when it hits close to home.
Advocate for drug policy reform and work to understand systems of oppression in your community.
No money? Use what you have.
Volunteer time. Many organizations and projects could use help with web-based marketing, fundraising and awareness efforts.
Talk with loved ones about sacred reciprocity.
Cultivate practices that are good for the Earth and its ecosystems in your diet, travel, and consumption habits.
Do journey work specifically focused in prayer for Indigenous protection and thriving.
Commit to the path of interconnectedness. Embrace systems thinking over simplistic solutions.
*The Chacruna Institute makes an important point here: “It is vital that members of the psychedelic community help support Indigenous groups and the traditional ecological knowledge they practice. Many organizations and individuals have a genuine desire to help, but struggle to find ways of connecting directly with local communities. Sometimes, the only option is donating to massive non-governmental organizations (NGOs) based in Western countries. Many who care about the environment and its interdependency with Indigenous lives are aware that money given to large NGOs often fails to reach the people on the ground due to the large infrastructural costs needed to run these organizations. Yet, small grassroots groups doing the most impactful work often labor to connect with people wanting to offer direct support through donations. For this reason, Chacruna has created the Indigenous Reciprocity Initiative of the Americas.”
Conclusion
With so many converging forces in the psychedelic movement, it is refreshing—audacious almost—to envision a community-led path forward that isn’t shaped by “corporadelics” or pharmaceuticals. The culture of sacred reciprocity is a first step toward healing the traumas of the past and present. The potential of the psychedelic resurgence multiplies when we embrace the inherent value of our roots and the lives that sustain this medicine.
Sacred reciprocity is a worthy cause. It requires humility and dedication. There lies before us a chance to live out a new story—one that our descendants will no longer have to spiritually bypass in order to fully enjoy their trip.
Rebecca Martinez is a Xicana writer, parent and community organizer born and raised in Portland, Oregon. She is a co-founder of the Fruiting Bodies Collective, an advocacy group, podcast and multimedia platform addressing the intersections between healing justice and the psychedelics movement. Rebecca served as the Event & Volunteer Coordinator for the successful Measure 109 campaign, an unprecedented state initiative which creates a legal framework for psilocybin therapy in Oregon. She is also the author of Edge Play: Tales From a Quarter Life Crisis, a memoir about psychedelic healing after family trauma, spiritual abuse, and police violence. She serves on the Health Equity Subcommittee for Oregon’s Psilocybin Advisory Board as well as the Board of Advisors for the Plant Medicine Healing Alliance.
Taking a deep look at what Measure 110 did and didn’t do in Oregon, and speaking with one of the measure’s Chief Petitioners, Anthony Johnson, on the future of drug policy reform.
“There’s never been a better time to be a drug policy reform activist,” says Anthony Johnson, a Chief Petitioner of Oregon’s Measure 110. Amid a sea of despairing headlines, it’s refreshing to hear a streak of optimism, especially from someone who has been working in public service for over twenty years.
Measure 110, also known as DATRA (the Drug Abuse Treatment and Recovery Act), received 58% of the Oregon vote in November. Similar to Portugal’s drug approach, the measure decriminalized the personal use and possession of all drugs. In addition, it allocated cannabis tax dollars and prison savings to pay for expanded drug treatment and other vital services. This progressive policy was passed alongside Measure 109, which created a legal statewide psilocybin therapy program.
Measure 110 was implemented statewide on February 1st, 2021. Addiction recovery centers and services must be available in each of the state’s 16 coordinated care organization regions by October, 2021.
What Measure 110 Does:
Removes criminal penalties for low-level possession of drugs. The amounts are as follows:
Under 1 gram of heroin
Under 1 gram, or fewer than 5 pills, of MDMA
Under 2 grams of methamphetamine
Under 2 grams of cocaine
Under 40 units of LSD
Under 12 grams of psilocybin
Under 40 units of methadone
Fewer than 40 pills of oxycodone
Allocates $100 million in state funding to expand behavioral health, addiction, recovery, housing, peer support and harm reduction services and interventions.
Establishes an Oversight and Accountability Council, made up of people who have direct lived experience with addiction, along with service delivery experts.
Reduces the criminal penalty for larger amounts of drugs from a felony to a misdemeanor.
Replaces the misdemeanor charge for small possession (which held a maximum penalty of 1 year in prison and a $6,250 fine) with a fine of $100. This fine can be waived by completing a health screening within 45 day of receiving a citation.
Nearly eliminates racial disparities in drug arrests, according to an independent analysis.
The Measure Does Not:
Legalize or create a regulated supply of drugs.
Change the criminal code related to drug manufacture and sale.
Change the criminal code for other crimes which may be associated with drug use, such as theft and driving under the influence.
I spoke with John Lucy, a Portland-based attorney focused on cannabis and business law, to clarify. He explained that Measure 110 covers all controlled substances, Schedule I through IV. The defined amounts in the bill language were provided for the more well-known drugs. So in short, Measure 110 really does make simple small possession a Class E violation for most drugs (with some A misdemeanors for larger quantities of the drugs listed that don’t meet commercial drug offense guidelines).
To be more specific, substances such as GHB (Schedule I and III), 2C-B (Schedule I) and Fentanyl (Schedule II) are now all class E violations, subject to the new $100 citation.
Why Measure 110 Matters for Racial Justice
The Oregon Criminal Justice Commission (OCJC) is an independent government body which is responsible for research, policy development and planning. In 2020, the Secretary of State released a Racial and Ethnic Impact Report, which explored the potential impacts of Measure 110. The findings make it easier to understand why Oregonians voted overwhelmingly in favor of this measure.
According to analysts, Measure 110 is slated to:
Prevent 8,000 arrests.
Reduce drug convictions of Black and Indigenous Oregonians by a whopping 94%.
Save between $12 million to $48.6 million from ending arrests, jailings, and convictions.
Also noteworthy are the more systemic solutions that could come from this measure. According to the OCJC’s report:
“This drop in convictions will result in fewer collateral consequences stemming from criminal justice system involvement, which include difficulties in finding employment, loss of access to student loans for education, difficulties in obtaining housing, restrictions on professional licensing, and others,” the report says, adding: “Other disparities can exist at different stages of the criminal justice process, including inequities in police stops, jail bookings, bail, pretrial detention, prosecutorial decisions, and others.”
Q & A with Anthony Johnson on Current and Future Drug Policy Reform
The three chief petitioners of Oregon’s Measure 110. From left to right: Haven Wheelock, Janie Marsh Gullickson, and Anthony Johnson.
I spoke with Chief Petitioner of Measure 110, Anthony Johnson, about the treatment-not-jails approach and where he hopes the drug policy reform movement will go next.
Rebecca Martinez: It’s a little late, but congratulations on the passage of 110. What a huge accomplishment!
Anthony Johnson: It’s a step in the right direction. Oregon took a big sledgehammer to the failed drug war. But I would say there is still more work to be done around the criminal justice element, making sure that harm reduction, treatment, and recovery programs are fully funded. And there’s still more work to be done expunging past criminal offenses that people have suffered from.
RM: Do you foresee new organizations being formed under this measure, or will the funding go to expand existing ones?
AJ: Right off the bat, at least with the initial funds, it will go to groups like Central City Concern and Bridges to Change that set up sober housing living situations and want to expand their programs so they can help people find places to live, get job training and experience, and be able to move on with their lives. Programs like that can expand. There could be rural organizations that understand there are places in Oregon where people have to travel hours to receive drug treatment. Groups could get funding for mobile units and meet people where they are. And then we have organizations like Outside In, who may want to expand the ability to provide NarCan, or fentanyl-testing supplies so that lives can be saved.
So in the short term, it will be organizations that are already up and running, doing good work and have experience applying for these types of funding sources. Over time, I could see new organizations established based upon lessons learned and the needs of the community.
Navigating Psychedelics for Clinicians and Therapists starts up again on May 20th. Reserve your seat today.
RM: When it comes to drug testing [as in checking for purity, not to be confused with urine drug testing], is this something we currently have in some form, and if not, is it legal and allowed under this new program?
AJ: Right now, organizations can get funding to expand programs to test drug supplies. There are organizations working today in Oregon that provide test strips so people can test their own drugs and make sure they are not fentanyl. I’m unaware that this conflicts with federal law if a group is just supplying testing equipment. It’s a little different than say, a safe consumption site where there is a violation of federal law happening on site. It’s more like, “Here’s your kit,” and you’re on your way.
When we talk about the interplay and all these issues of impact, I want to highlight one point, and I believe we did this effectively during the campaign. I hope this can reverberate all throughout Oregon: When people talk about drug policy changes, ultimately it is not about the drugs. It is about the people. Our loved ones. No matter where you live, who you are, you have family members using drugs, most likely illegal drugs, but definitely legal drugs, be it alcohol, tobacco, or prescription drugs.
Knowing the truth about these drugs, treating them without stigma so that when people who do have an issue, they’re willing to come forward and there are resources available to them. Ultimately, what do you want for yourself or a loved one? How do you want to be treated? Do you want them arrested, put in jail, fired, given a scarlet letter “F” labeling them a felon for the rest of their lives so they can’t get certain housing opportunities? Or do you want them treated with dignity and provided resources if they need help. Remember that the majority of drug users actually don’t need help and can lead productive lives.
When mainstream media stories are written, headlines are going to be as inflammatory as possible. The photo’s gotta be needles and lines, razor blades, if they can they throw some guns in the picture too, but that’s not a realistic representation of life in America. As we move forward, we want to be compassionate, empathetic, end the stigma, and treat people how we want to be treated.
When people talk about drug policy changes, ultimately it is not about the drugs. It is about the people.
RM: I have two immediate family members who have been incarcerated. Is there a pathway to ending sentences for people who are serving time for substances that are no longer illegal? Or, is it: “What’s done is done”?
AJ: Something could be done about it, for sure. And we were able to accomplish some of this work with cannabis. We could have something passed that provides a study saying, “Who is in prison for these substances that are now decriminalized?” Or, “The offense was reduced from a felony to a misdemeanor and their prison time should be reduced and they should be let out.”
For whatever reason, there’s often some reluctance around that. I don’t quite understand it. The way I see it, when we legalize cannabis or drug possession, voters and society are recognizing that the state has made a mistake. Cannabis shouldn’t have been illegal in the first place. These small amounts of drugs should not be a felony or a misdemeanor. So, why are people in prison and why do people have criminal records when the state made the mistake?
It will take further legislative changes to accomplish this. We still have such a huge stigma around drugs. Cannabis has taken 25 years. It may be due to coronavirus and other concerns, but really there’s been no movement on further decriminalizing drug possession yet.
RM: What do you want to see moving forward?
AJ: What I want to see, what I’m working for and will continue advocating for, is automatically expunging old convictions. Automatically releasing people from prison. Following Measure 91 [Oregon’s Legal Marijuana initiative, on which Anthony was also Chief Petitioner], one of the most proud moments of my activist career was reading an article on OPB.org in which a man said he cried tears of joy because his cannabis delivery conviction could finally be expunged from his record, after following him for 30 years of his life.
Now, six years later, I am still proud of that, but I am struck that we didn’t go far enough. He was in a position to hire an attorney, pay the court fees, pay for the filing. [But] expunging your criminal record should not depend on your ability to hire an attorney. The law is the law. It should just be off everybody’s record. It should not be based on how much money you have or whether you know how to jump through legal hoops.
RM: Have you heard interest from people in other states who want to create models designed after 110? Given what you know now, what would be the dream model that you believe could be pushed through in more progressive states?
AJ: I have been in touch with people interested in enacting similar policies, and even city or countywide changes where statewide is not feasible. The cannabis movement did the same thing with local efforts. I definitely support anything that moves the issue forward. I became an activist over 20 years ago and I definitely see a key change in where we are and we are definitely going to move forward in other states. My dream model would be largely based in Oregon.
Now, the possession limits of what you decriminalize should be examined and should be realistic around peoples’ usage. One of the critiques I heard a lot from addiction doctors was that the possession limits we decriminalized in Measure 110 were, really, too low for a lot of users.
Even potentially, so long as someone is not selling, [general possession] could be decriminalized. Automatic expungements of past offenses and early prison release, and I think there should be funds allocated for treatment, harm reduction and recovery for those who need it.
This should be looked at as an extension of our healthcare needs. States should also be looking into studies into the medicinal benefits of various psychedelics, be it psilocybin mushrooms or MDMA. Slowly but surely, we are getting research moving forward at the federal level, but it is really up to the states to move these things forward.
In the future, something like 109 and 110 could be combined.
Explore the shadow side of psychedelics in this learn-at-your-own-pace course.
AJ: I support anything that moves the issue forward and educates people. My one caveat [about Decrim Nature and the Plant Medicine Healing Alliance] is I don’t want anybody to possess larger amounts of these drugs [in Oregon] than what Measure 110 allows, believing they are okay under state law because of a city resolution. A city cannot make something legal that the state has made illegal.
This is a problem with not having a city court, and this is something I look at when we are planning future drug policy reform measures. Cities that have their own city court, such as Columbia, Missouri where I went to undergrad and law school, can pass a measure and force the city prosecutor and police to keep that case within city courts and not send it to county or state [court], or refer it to the feds. So in these places, you can actually change the law [at the city level].
The city can’t make, say 28 grams of psilocybin mushrooms legal if the state says 12. It could be de facto legal, if the district attorney chose not to prosecute people, but DA’s change and it may not always be that way. [It’s then up to] local police discretion… it could be “lowest law enforcement priority,” but they could still arrest you.
RM: If it is on the discretion of the police, is it worth putting resources into these city-based resolutions? The last thing any of us wants is blood on our hands or anyone having a brush with the law because they thought they had legal protection when they didn’t.
It is imperative for all advocates to do what they can to be open. Lowest law enforcement priority measures are symbolic measures. If you are not actually changing the law, people can still be arrested and convicted. There could still be a lot of good out of that, but we need education that helps people realize this doesn’t actually change the criminal code. It’s up to advocates to make sure people know the truth of the matter. We don’t want to do harm. That said, if anything is moving the issue forward, I tend to support it. My focus is on changing the law, but I support anything that’s chipping away at the drug war. We should be honest about the pros and cons.
We want to let science, truth, and common sense guide us. We need to be truthful about what a lowest law enforcement priority measure does.
Expunging your criminal record should not depend on your ability to hire an attorney. The law is the law. It should just be off everybody’s record.
RM: What would you say to those who are pro-psychedelics who are new to the idea of broader drug policy reform?
This is something I’ve battled within cannabis legalization, which I’ve been involved in for over 20 years. Early on, and still to this day, there was cannabis exceptionalism. People had the attitude of, “Don’t arrest us [cannabis users]. Arrest these other people who use heroin, or meth, or these other drugs.” And now we’re seeing the same thing with psychedelics.
In the end, I believe people need to do their best to be empathetic to the situations people are born into, how they’re raised, the traumas they go through, and the drugs that are used. If you were born in a different city, state, whatever… you may have used different drugs than what you use today.
When I first told people in cannabis activism that I was working on 110, they were like, “You’re not going to decriminalize meth, right?”
Bottom line is: Arresting and convicting people, whatever the drug is… it’s counterproductive. Throwing someone in jail and taking away their education, housing and job opportunities is not good for them or society. We have to set aside our feelings about drugs because we believe some substances are better than others and that [certain] people should be treated better than others. We all have circumstances and hardships. No matter the drug of choice, arresting, criminalizing and stigmatizing them is a counterproductive policy.
We always need to come back to that. We need to appeal to people’s compassion and empathy. We cannot arrest and jail our way out of people using drugs.
RM: You make an important point. You’re touching on the question of: What does punishment do to us? Does it move us closer or further from the society we want to have?
We have to change the conversation. Imagine the headlines you’d see if other drugs caused the consequences we see with alcohol. Car accidents, death, abuse, other accidents, all these bad decisions people make… if that was another drug, just imagine the headlines, every day. People committing crimes, getting in wrecks with alcohol in our systems. But for better or worse, it is accepted in our society.
But if someone came to you and said they used alcohol and thought they needed help, that is [also] totally acceptable in society. And it should be. That’s where we want to get with all drugs. No matter the substance someone uses. If people seek help, they should get the help they need. Ultimately, we need to end the stigma. It’s difficult when even people within drug policy reform have their own stigmas around certain drugs. I’m a different advocate in 2021 than I was in 2000. Everyone has their own journey, but I definitely see the light at the end of the tunnel.
We got a strong majority of the vote [in Oregon]. Drug decriminalization got a higher percentage of the votes than Jeff Merkeley, who is a very popular senator! This is more popular than we think. We’ve got to thank Dr. Carl Hart, who is braver than most, for paving the way.
I believe in ten years, in this discussion around decriminalization, stigma and use, we’re going to be in a much better place than we are now. It’s not just electoral victories, it’s conversations we have publicly like this one, conversations with our friends and family, we can just chip away at it.
I’m actually very hopeful. Drug policy reform is two steps forward, one step back. But as scary and maddening and the world can be, I’ve never been more optimistic about what we can do. I’m proud that Oregon’s been playing our part and other states are following suit.
I believe in our lifetime we are going to end the drug war.
Rebecca Martinez is a Portland, Oregon-based writer, parent and community organizer. She is a co-founder of the Fruiting Bodies Collective, an advocacy group, podcast and multimedia platform exploring the intersections between healing justice and the psychedelics movement.
There is a growing community of people with autism turning to psychedelics. But how are these substances helping them find relief from the symptoms of neurodivergence?
Current estimates suggest that about 2% of adults in the U.S. have autism. In addition to higher levels of social anxiety, depression, and ADHD, autistic individuals meet unique challenges as they seek effective therapeutic treatment methods available to them; psychedelic-assisted therapy is now seen as an attractive alternative for this often sidelined and marginalized population.
There are promising signs that indicate psychedelics could help autistic individuals manage social anxiety, recover from trauma, reduce depression and anxiety, as well as work through the unique hurdles on their path. However, it may be the case that for people with lower-functioning capabilities, psychedelics might not have nearly the same effects. Despite innumerable anecdotal reports from individuals who have benefited from psychedelics in a multitude of ways, there is still a significant lack of research regarding how psychedelics could be useful for those with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) diagnoses.
What Is Autism?
Before delving into how psychedelics can be helpful for people with autism, it is first important to understand what autism actually is. Defining it can be tricky because there is still no agreed upon mechanistic, neurological basis for the condition. Despite this, there is research to suggest that neurodivergent brains exhibit higher levels of functional connectivity, believed to contribute to the intense sensitivity to sensory input and sense of overwhelm that autistic individuals experience in certain environments.
Moving away from stereotyped definitions of ASD as a social impairment, many believe sensory processing issues to be at the core of autism. Typically, autistic individuals have hypersensitivity or hyposensitivity to sounds, touch, and lights, among other stimuli. As such, autism is characterized by unique, atypical ways of interacting with and processing information. Even so, everyone inherits their own unique neurocognitive version of autism, and although autistic individuals share basic neurological features as well as a common diagnosis, behaviors and traits can vary dramatically from person-to-person. It’s why you’ll commonly hear autism referred to as a “spectrum.”
The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV), defines autism in terms of deficits in social communication and interaction, and repetitive patterns of behavior and/or interests that are present (but not always noticed) in the early developmental period. However, such definitions of autism have led to false stereotypes. Looking at autism through this lens of pathology, scientists have long sought out a “cure.” However, pathologizing autism in this way is both harmful and damaging.
In the book, NeuroTribes: The Legacy of Autism and the Future of Neurodiversity, Steve Silberman reflects historically how the controversial roots in early psychology have led to widespread misunderstanding of what autism is, and how our societal failure to embrace neurodiversity has been inherently damaging. Further, Silberman speaks to the fact that embracing neurodiversity can benefit our existence in that neurodivergent individuals are often endowed with unique, specialized ways of seeing the world.
Within psychiatry, autism is classified as a “disorder,” however, in recent years this conception is being actively challenged by advocates of neurodiversity. When defining autism, Nick Walker, queer autistic scholar and Associate Professor of Somatic Psychology at the California Institute of Integral Studies, makes a distinction between what he refers to as the “neurodiversity paradigm” and the “pathology paradigm.” Walker describes the neurodiversity paradigm as a perspective that “recognizes neurodiversity as a naturally-occurring form of human diversity.”
Comparatively, autistics are marginalized through the pathology paradigm, which rests on the assumption that there is only one “right” way to be and that if you stray from the dominant conception of normal there is something wrong with you. He adds, “In the context of a society designed around the sensory, cognitive, developmental, and social needs of non-autistic individuals, autistic individuals are almost always disabled to some degree.”
Although certain features of autism can be disabling, many of the challenges that autistics face aren’t necessarily related to their diagnosis, but rather, arise from the way in which society treats those who don’t fit the mold of “normal.” Many autistic individuals grow up feeling that their way of inhabiting the world is flawed because they do not conform to certain, socially-conditioned ways of being.
Difficulty meeting certain social expectations often ends in social rejection, stifling autistic individuals’ ability to interact with others. Accordingly, autism is often misrepresented as a social deficit by those who are ignorant of the fact that social difficulties in autistic populations are simply by-products of the heightened intensity of their sensory experience. Through the lens of neurodivergence, autism is a neurotype, and labelling it as a “disorder” reflects a value judgement more than anything else.
Looking Into the Research on Psychedelics and Autism
In the early 1960s, when LSD was beginning to be used experimentally in research and psychotherapy, a series of controversial studies were published around treating young children who were believed to have severe forms of autism and childhood-onset schizophrenia (COS) with LSD. Due to misconceptions surrounding autism, it was previously thought to be closely related to juvenile schizophrenia.
The driving justification for experimenting with a powerful psychoactive substance on children was that all other treatment methods had previously failed. Scientists gave a total of 91 children, aged between six and ten, LSD at differing dosage levels and fluctuating frequencies of administration with different treatment schedules, finding that the most effective results were produced at doses of 100 micrograms given daily or weekly for extended periods of time. Undoubtedly, such a study would be unacceptable to an ethics committee today.
Positive outcomes were reported with the use of LSD, with researchers summarizing the most consistent effects as improved speech, increased emotional responsiveness, frequent laughter, positive mood, and a decrease of compulsive behavior. In one such example, researchers observed that the children “appeared flushed, bright eyed, and unusually interested in the environment.” Despite these promising results, positive outcomes were largely dismissed due to the fact that the study designs were greatly flawed, and were not as scientifically rigorous as those of today’s standards because they lacked experimental controls.
Since this early research, there have been very few studies that have looked into the clinical uses of psychedelics for autism. One of the first to do so was clinical psychologist and MDMA researcher Alicia Danforth’s 2013 doctoral dissertation, which explored how autistic adults experience the subjective effects of MDMA. Danforth looked at qualitative data collected via online surveys from 100 autistic individuals who had taken MDMA alongside a comparison group of 50 autistic individuals who were MDMA naïve.
MDMA is sometimes referred to as an “empathogen” or “entactogen” because it is a substance that has the ability to facilitate experiences of increased empathy, oneness, emotional connectivity, and emotional openness. In part, MDMA is able to do this because it encourages the release of oxytocin, sometimes referred to as “the love hormone,” which is associated with social connection and enhancing responses to positive emotions while decreasing the ability to perceive negative facial cues.
The group who had taken MDMA reported sustained benefits such as improvement in social anxiety and healing from trauma. Most notably after MDMA use, 91% of participants reported increased feelings of empathy and social connectedness, while 86% felt that communication came more easily with the effects lasting two years or longer for 15% of individuals.
Building on the positive trends identified in her dissertation, in 2016 Danforth published a paper detailing the rationale behind and protocol for a pilot study using MDMA-assisted therapy to treat social anxiety in autistic adults. In 2018, Danforth and her team conducted the first randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled experiment with psychedelics and autistic adults.
Broadly speaking, social anxiety is characterized by a heightened fear of what others think about you, feeling an intensified fear of scrutiny alongside the avoidance of social interactions. Research has shown that social anxiety commonly co-occurs with autism, and part of Danforth’s rationale behind the study was to explore MDMA as a psychedelic treatment modality for individuals with an increased need.
One of the principal aims of the study was to explore the safety of MDMA-assisted psychotherapy for reduction of social fear and avoidance for individuals with ASD, finding no evidence of harm to participants. Although the study was small in size, recruiting only 12 participants, results were promising. Participants took part in two full-day sessions in which they were either given MDMA or a placebo. The study used the Liebowitz Social Anxiety Scale to measure changes in social anxiety. Subjects who received MDMA showed a significantly greater reduction in social anxiety than the placebo group. Reductions in social anxiety symptoms were long-lasting, still holding true at a 6-month follow-up.
In her work, Danforth is careful to emphasize the fact that MDMA and other psychedelics do not “cure” autism, rather when used in a psychotherapeutic setting, they can help to alleviate social anxiety and manage other concomitant issues prevalent in autistic populations.
Reflecting on the study, Danforth shared that there were substantial recruitment delays. As anxiety and depression are both common in autistic adults, many participants were ruled out because they were using conventional psychiatric medications such as SSRIs. In addition, many of these adults were often unemployed and living in social isolation, less likely to have access to information about the study.
Beyond the scope of autism, there is a growing body of research that has sought to examine how psychedelics affect social behaviour more generally. A 2020 study done by a team of researchers from McGill University examined the effect of LSD on social behavior in mice, whilst measuring their brain activity.
Under the influence of low doses of LSD, the mice became notably more social and friendly towards unfamiliar mice. While it was already known that LSD activates serotonin 5-HT2A receptors, this study illuminated that LSD’s activation of the 2A receptors also triggered a cascade activation of the AMPA receptor and the protein complex mTORC1, working together to encourage social interaction. This is important because dysregulation of mTORC1 has been linked to autism and social anxiety disorders more generally.
Obviously, behavior and brain function in mice cannot directly be translated to that in humans, however, understanding the foundational mechanism of LSD’s prosocial behavioral effects opens up the door for future research. It also advances the understanding of how the substance could be useful to autistic populations, as well as those that suffer from general social anxiety.
An earlier study conducted in 2013 also showed that both psilocybin and ketamine altered the way that the brain responds to fearful faces. People under the influence of these two psychedelics were less able to identify negative expressions when presented with images of people with angry or upset expressions.
In the same vein, a 2010 study done with MDMA demonstrated that the substance reduced people’s accuracy in distinguishing negative facial cues. Not only does MDMA enhance emotional openness and connectivity, it also impairs the capacity to notice negative emotions in others’ facial expressions. Similarly, LSD has been shown to have an effect on emotional processing, enhancing feelings of trust, closeness to others, and emotional empathy, while weakening the ability to detect sad and fearful facial expressions.
In addition, psilocybin, LSD, and MDMA, all work to reduce the activity of the amygdala, a brain region that is associated with emotional processing and stress response. Brain imaging studies with autistic individuals have shown that the amygdala is differentially activated when presented with anxiety-inducing stimuli compared to the general population.
Psychedelics’ ability to enhance states of social connection and empathy joined with their simultaneous capacity to diminish the detection of negative facial expressions make them a promising therapeutic modality for those that suffer with social anxiety disorders, including autistic individuals.
Even though research into psychedelics and autism is still very limited, we can still draw much insight from psychedelic research into non-autistic individuals and the body of anecdotal evidence that is growing quickly as more and more neurodivergent people share their healing stories.
Beyond Social Anxiety: Navigating Autism with Psychedelics
For Aaron Orsini, author of Autism on Acid: How LSD Helped Me Understand, Navigate, Alter & Appreciate My Autistic Perceptions, and co-founder of the online community for neurodivergent individuals, Autistic Psychedelic, experimenting with LSD led him to understand and appreciate his autism, allowing him to “bridge the neurotypical divide.”
Aaron Orsini’s book, Autistic Psychedelic, is an anthology of self reported benefits and challenges of neurodivergent people exploring psychedelics.
The altered state produced by psychedelics helped Orsini better understand how he was prioritizing sensory input, realizing that he had been stuck in a particular mode of seeing and experiencing the world, awakening a deep sense of interoceptiveness.
Interoception is the awareness of what is going on inside one’s own body at any given moment and the ability to take action based on one’s inner experience. For example, noticing dryness in the mouth might serve as an indication that we are thirsty, encouraging us to take action by drinking water. In general, autistic people tend to have lower interoceptive awareness when compared with average populations.
“If my body was a car, psychedelics allowed me to realize that my fuel light was low, that I needed food, rest, or felt a certain way,” Orsini says. “By being able to notice and interpret the cues coming in, I became able to navigate any situation.”
Speaking about his initial experience with psychedelics, Orsini shares, “ I felt connected to myself, nature, and other people—it was a relief from repetitive thinking, and from there it became the foundation upon which I could rebuild my relationship with myself, my physical and mental wellness, and lead a functional life.”
Orsini draws on the concepts of “monotropism” and what he calls “polytropism” to explain how psychedelics were able to modulate his consciousness. Monotropism, believed to be a key feature of autism, refers to a cognitive strategy in which one has a narrow set of interests and is only able to focus one’s attention on a limited number of inputs at a given time. On the one hand, monotropic thinking can lend itself to deep thinking and flow states, however, it is also limiting in that information which exists outside of the attention tunnel often gets filtered out, and it can be hard to disengage with a given task or activity when one is so fully absorbed in it.
Comparatively, polytropism designates the proclivity to process multiple inputs at once. Naturally, both types of cognitive processing have their pros and cons, however, when it comes to autistic individuals, polytropic processing is generally harder to access. In Orsini’s experience, LSD was able to occasion a state of polytropic awareness, which he committed himself to working with after his psychedelic experience.
By facilitating novel perceptions, psychedelics could also help those with autism learn to embrace their neurocognitive disposition and unique way of inhabiting the world. Many autistic people engage in a behavior referred to as “masking” in which they camouflage certain challenges by observing and mimicking neurotypical ways of acting in social situations. In some sense, masking is a survival strategy used to conceal behaviors that are felt to be socially unacceptable. Often, masking is the result of trauma, as individuals feel they need to hide their true selves in order to fit in.
“Autistic behaviors could be patterned off of early life traumas that are likely because of the sensitivity inherent to an autistic individual,” says Orsini. “I might not have been through war, but I was prone to a more intense sensory experience.”
Independent of neurotype, psychedelics allow for a reappraisal of our default modes of seeing, and a breaking free from the rigid patterns of perception that become habitual. In mental health conditions like anxiety, depression, and OCD, an interconnected group of brain regions referred to as the default mode network (DMN) linked to introspective functions such as self-reflection and self-criticism, tend to be overactive.
Psychedelics have been shown to dampen the function of the DMN, allowing for a kind of “reset” in the brain in which it becomes easier to separate ourselves from ways of thinking and seeing the world that have become ingrained. If psychedelics are beneficial to the general population in this way, why can’t they also be valuable to people with autism for the same reason?
To date, there is no evidence to suggest that having an ASD diagnosis is a contraindication for psychedelic use. “In general, whether it is in a research or retreat setting, there is less certainty on how to navigate autism and so it is often sidelined,” says Orsini. “However, there is nothing obvious about autism that makes it a contraindication or makes it less safe to explore these toolsets.”
Unfortunately, more often than not, larger subsets of the population get attention first, and according to the World Health Organization, a whopping 264 million people worldwide suffer from depression. Comparatively, autistics make up a minority population that often gets overshadowed.
Expressing his hopes for future psychedelic research, Orsini shares, “What I’d like to see is keeping autistics in the conversation when it comes to their ongoing access, and keep them in the domain of people that are considered for early clinical trials.” Additionally, when psychedelic-assisted therapy becomes legalized throughout the US, just as it has in Oregon, Orsini hopes that medical or retreat centers don’t exclude autistic people.
A Future Therapeutic Modality for Autism: Psychedelic-Assisted Immersion Therapy
Based on his extensive self-experimentation with LSD, Orsini proposed a model therapeutic approach for navigating neurodivergence with psychedelics called: “LSD-assisted immersion therapy.” Immersion therapy is different from conventional psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy in that it is formulated with the idea of facilitating social and interpersonal learning as opposed to a purely inwardly-directed experience. In this context, Orsini suggests that a moderate dose of the substance is preferable so as not to elicit a full blown mystical experience.
Moving beyond a therapist dyad, LSD-assisted immersion therapy, or more generally psychedelic-assisted immersion therapy, involves ingesting the substance in a group setting. “If I was to have this LSD, and simply reflect on my social challenges in isolation, I may come to an intellectual conclusion, but it is not the same as actually being involved with other people,” says Orsini.
“I envision a future setting in which individuals who are seeking to work on interpersonal issues and skills would be able to do so in the comfort of other individuals who are equally familiar with them,” says Orsini. “These issues have to do with one’s personal self inventory, but there is a natural therapeutic component to engaging with others in an enhanced state.”
Experiencing challenge around social interaction isn’t specific to autistic individuals, and psychedelic-assisted immersion therapy, or simply psychedelic group therapy, has the potential to help a wide range of people. Current clinical studies into the therapeutic potentials of psychedelics often overlook an important dimension of real-life psychedelic use, namely, the social dimension.
Although pushing for the legalization and acceptance of psychedelics through the lens of medicalization is somewhat of a necessity, there is an inherent problem-solving dynamic that emerges in which psychedelics are viewed exclusively as tools that are effective in treating given issues. However, looking at psychedelics through the lens of neurodiversity, they need not be used to target a given concomitant issues associated with autism, rather they can simply help people understand and embrace their differences. Healing happens when we can move beyond a narrow view of how society should be and encourage people to flourish as they are, instead of attempting to make everyone conform.
*Editor’s note: Though this article speaks to the benefits of adults with autism using psychedelics, Psychedelics Today does not that such individuals should seek to self-medicate. In sharing his story, Orsini makes it clear that he is not advocating for others to self-experiment as he did, rather, his aim is to spark interest in researchers to find more data on this in hopes of providing relief for others.
Rick Doblin and Bia Labate debated Jeffery Lieberman and Keven Sabet on whether or not psychedelics should be legalized, and the results may surprise you.
Last week, we received an invite to attend an early screening of the newest debate in Intelligence Squared US’s online debate series: “Should Society Legalize Psychedelics?” Being immersed in the world of Psychedelics Today, it seems like we’re constantly involved in various similar conversations around legalization, decriminalization, benefits and dangers, and the less-discussed idea of drug exceptionalism. So while I was curious to see how a question like this would be handled by a more mainstream outlet, I also wondered if they’d get it right. When I saw who would be involved, I knew this would be worth watching.
Arguing for the motion to legalize psychedelics were Rick Doblin, Founder & Executive Director of MAPS, as you likely know if you’re on this site, and Bia Labate, anthropologist, drug policy expert, and executive director of Chacruna. Against the motion were Jeffrey Lieberman, former President of the American Psychiatric Association and Chair of Columbia University’s Department of Psychiatry, and Keven Sabet, three-time White House drug policy advisor, president and CEO of Smart Approaches to Marijuana, and author of Smokescreen: What the Marijuana Industry Doesn’t Want You to Know. What instantly caught my eye was psychedelic legend Rick Doblin going against a three-time White House drug policy advisor (i.e. “The Man”), and I wanted to see exactly how Doblin would choose to wipe the floor with him. But this was a debate, and debates don’t care solely about facts, which to me, is exactly what makes them so interesting.
After a brief and somewhat cringeworthy performance by “psychedelic comedian” Sarah Rose Siskind (which felt very odd to me—if we’re taking this seriously, why are we starting it out with bad jokes about drugs?), moderator John Donvan came on and asked us all to cast a vote before the debate started. We’d be casting another one after the debate, and the winner would be declared by calculating which side’s numbers increased more, or really, which side won over more of the undecided voters.
I personally feel that this is a very nuanced topic that probably can’t be answered with a simple yes or no, but decided to vote “yes” anyway.
The debate started and right away, I noticed a classic juxtaposition between Doblin and the Against Legalization team: Lieberman and Sabet wore black sportcoats and white collared shirts with crisp, stylized hair, while Doblin looked to be wearing a Hawaiian shirt, hair as out-of-control as always. Lieberman looked to be sitting in a professional office with hundreds of journals and important books proudly staged behind him, while Doblin looked like someone dug a chair out of the piles of papers in his office and placed him on it shortly after waking him up. The For Legalization team argued passionately, with a more freestyle tone drawing from personal stories, while the Against Legalization team spoke more slowly and seemed to have more prepared statements (Lieberman seemed to be reading off a script several times).
Screen shot of Rick Doblin of the “For Legalization” team at the Intelligence Squared debate.
The opening round consisted of each participant getting a few minutes to make as many points as they wanted. Doblin started out by listing what he believed his opponents would agree with him on, and introduced the idea of “licensed legalization,” where the ability to use drugs legally would be handled the way a driver’s license allows you to drive a car (and would therefore be taken away with abuse or misuse). Labate focused on the prevalence of drug use throughout all of history, the racism and failure of the drug war, and how “the sky didn’t fall” when other countries have legalized drugs.
From the Against Legalization team, Lieberman made it clear that while he has plenty of experience with psychedelics and absolutely sees a benefit, they should be decriminalized only and studied for therapeutic use. He also called out MAPS’s mission statement, saying that their effort to develop cannabis into prescription medicines is a “ruse” to get around prohibition, and posited the idea that the gateways to creativity and spirituality people experience were maybe just the drugs fooling them. Sabet performed pretty strongly here, saying that the historical use Labate talked about couldn’t be further from what would happen if the US legalized psychedelics, which he imagines as stereotypically US as possible, with Super Bowl-level mass commercialization, major lobbyists promoting their agendas, and the rich getting richer off of an addiction-for-profit model. He also said that opioids and alcohol kill more people than all illegal drugs combined, partly because they’re legal and therefore used more.
Round two was more of an open discussion with Donvan moderating. Some good points were made by the For Legalization team: decriminalization means impure drugs; classic psychedelics are not addictive; there actually is a lot of ceremonial use already in the US; commercialization doesn’t mean a psychedelic boogeyman is going to create addictive psychedelics; and decriminalization is not freedom and still comes with fines.
Meanwhile, the Against Legalization team didn’t seem to grasp why decriminalization wasn’t enough, but made some great points about how legalization doesn’t always mean purer and better (look at tobacco and cigarettes), and if we haven’t gotten this stuff right in all this time, why would we suddenly get it right when it comes to the legalization of psychedelics? Much time was spent on the need for scientific proof over tons of anecdotal stories. The open discussion showed some heat, and also exposed some debater flaws, like Lieberman rambling to the point of me entirely missing his point and Labate not realizing when her time was up and talking over everyone several times.
Screen shot of all the debaters and moderator from the Intelligence Square debate, “Should Society Legalize Psychedelics?”
Round three went back to each participant making closing statements for two minutes. Doblin spoke passionately about how much he and his wife have benefited from regular MDMA use, and said opponents shouldn’t let the fear of overcommercialization from “Big Psychedelic” spoil something so many could benefit from. Labate talked about how the US is the “land of freedoms” (which I laughed out loud at), and we’re going to look back on this time in shame, saying that a lot of what had been said against psychedelics was based on fear, a false narrative, and science’s attempt to control everything. Lieberman said that this would be a very dangerous social experiment, and then spent an odd amount of time talking about Prometheus and Frankenstein.
Sabet, on the other hand, really killed it here, spending a good chunk of his allotted time reading a quote from Robert Corry (one of the writers of Amendment 64 on Colorado’s 2012 statewide ballot that permitted recreational sales of cannabis), who fully regrets what he has done after seeing the massive commercialization of the industry. He ended by echoing his main point again: “It’s one thing to advocate for decriminalization, ending the war on drugs. It’s another thing to advocate for the commercialization and normalization,” saying that this would create an industry that cared only about profits, to the detriment of everyone’s health and safety.
The pre-recorded debate ended, and those of us who were able to attend the sneak preview were then sent to a live check-in with all the participants. Here, huge points that were missed in the debate were finally made. Doblin asked Sabet if he’s so against big corporations getting rich off drugs, does that mean he’s OK with cartels getting rich instead?
Labate pointed out that the time people were the most reckless with alcohol was during prohibition. Lieberman hurt himself by making it clear that he felt medical use and recreational use have to be completely separate, and the same drug couldn’t be used for both. Sabet made his same points again, but hurt my view of him a bit by making sure to have the cover of his book prominently displayed twice in his background (I’ve never been a fan of shameless plugs).
My favorite parts of the debate were in this live session. The first was when Founder and Chairman of Intelligence Squared US, Robert Rosenkranz, joined in and made Doblin’s point about money even stronger: If something is bought, that means someone is selling it, so why does the amount of profit and who it’s going to matter so much to Sabet? It can go to corporations and be regulated, or go to criminals and stay unregulated. Which is better?
Labate also shut down Lieberman in extraordinary fashion. Lieberman had already established himself as being extremely focused on science, studies, and needing proof for everything, but also had a really odd moment where he was certain he had more psychedelic experiences under his belt than Doblin. I cringed at this, thinking, “Really? You’re arguing for keeping psychedelics illegal and talking about their dangers while bragging about breaking the law to enjoy them?” So I was filled with joy when he said that he had had wonderful experiences on psychedelics, and Labate immediately hit him with: “But there’s no proof that your experience was wonderful. There’s no peer-reviewed study. How do you know it was wonderful?” Yeah, take that, pal.
There was a place to submit questions, but the live session was kept to a half hour, leaving most questions unanswered. I wanted to know if the Against Legalization team would be for legalization if it was presented in a “licensed legalization” manner—the way Doblin had explained in his first segment (which wasn’t discussed again because it was outside of the main argument). Wesley Thoricatha of Psychedelic Times asked another great question in the chat window: “If our society believes that the benefits of alcohol legalization outweigh the observable risks, how can there be any valid case against legalizing these non-addictive substances that clearly have more potential benefits and less overall risks?” Since the pros didn’t address these thoughts, I guess it’s now the job for all of us to keep asking these questions and having these conversations on our own time.
All said and done, I really enjoyed this debate and found the arguments really interesting. Sabet’s “why would we get it right this time?” overcommercialization argument really hit home with me, as I’m quickly becoming disgusted with the money-grabs, ridiculous patent-filing, and dangerous “magic pill” narrative that keeps proliferating this movement, while constantly being reminded of the ineffectiveness and rampant corruption in the government. But I wondered if he really meant that, or if he was just trying to win the debate by cashing in on the “rich people are evil” attitude he guessed many viewers would have. And while his vision of the future is ugly, was his point (or any others made by the Against Legalization team) any stronger than Doblin’s argument for taking money out of the hands of criminals in favor of safer drugs?
I loved Labate’s passion and realness and she made some great points, but her talking over people hurt her. Lieberman was very organized and prepared, but his rigidity and inability to make strong, understandable arguments hurt him. So this felt more like a debate between Doblin and Sabet, and after breaking it down more, it really felt like hope, compassion, and common sense were going up against pessimism and fear.
At the end of the debate, the results were tallied. My view was a little more nuanced and I was more open to discussion, but I still generally sided with the For Legalization team. This was not the case for others. Before the debate, 65% of viewers voted to legalize psychedelics, while 15% disagreed with the motion and 20% were undecided. After the debate, however, even though the For Legalization vote increased to 67%, the Against Legalization vote grew to 24%, giving them a 9% total increase over the For Legalization’s 2%. Therefore, in the preliminary vote, Against Legalization ended up winning the debate.
Intelligence Squared US then posted the video and encouraged people to watch, leaving voting open for a week for a separate “online audience” tally. I assumed that a larger audience would trend more towards legalization and I’d get my win here, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Not only did the Against Legalization vote jump from 11% pre-debate to 30% post-debate, but the For Legalization vote dropped from 74% to 62% too, leaving me to wonder what arguments swayed people so much.
In the end, as I assumed it would, this debate just highlighted the importance of nuance and looking at huge, important topics like this from all angles. I’m not sure that “should society legalize psychedelics?” is a question we should even be asking (can it really be answered with a simple yes or no?), but the beauty of it is that these questions are even being asked and debated, especially by such big names on such a mainstream platform. And as a culture, we’re now making available both sides of the argument, to be heard by anyone who wants to listen. These conversations need to be had, bad arguments need to be called out, and strong points by the other side need to be looked at fairly. While the complete adult-use legalization of all psychedelics may never happen, this is the only way we’re ever going to get close.
About the Author
Mike Alexander works for Psychedelics Today. He writes the show notes for each podcast, handles most of the email, edits video and audio, helps with the blog, and annoys the rest of the team on Slack. He eats a lot of pizza, spends a lot of time in the woods, and spends most of his money on Phish tour.
Taking a deep look at the trial’s Supplementary Appendix, the response from the psychedelic science community, and the choice to measure the results using the QIDS depression rating scale.
On April 15, 2021 the New England Journal of Medicine published a study comparing the efficacy of psilocybin-assisted therapy to a popular SSRI antidepressant, escitalopram (sold under the brand names Lexapro, Cipralex, and others): titled: Trial of Psilocybin versus Escitalopram for Depression. The landmark paper written by the team at Imperial College London’s Centre for Psychedelic Research, concluded that the “trial did not show a significant difference in antidepressant effects between psilocybin and escitalopram in a selected group of patients”, which caused a bit of an uproar in the psychedelic science community.
Reactions and questions came quickly on social media: Was the paper edited too heavily by the New England Journal of Medicine? Were appropriate rating scales used to judge the effectiveness of psilocybin? Are the “real” results hidden in the study’s appendix? As a participant in NYU’s study on psilocybin-assisted therapy for major depressive disorder in 2020 who received incredible benefits (my depression of five years went completely into remission and has remained there), I felt it was necessary to try and explain the latest results in more depth.
The study in question, under lead authors Robin Carhart-Harris, Ph.D, David Nutt, MD, Rosalind Watts, D.Clin.Psy and others, was a double-blind randomized trial with 59 participants for six weeks to compare the efficacy of psilocybin versus a leading antidepressant in treating depression. Each trial started with a psilocybin dose day; one group received a high dose of 25 mg, the other a negligible dose of 1 mg. Then, the high dose group proceeded to receive a daily placebo while the low dose group received 10 mg of escitalopram each day for the first three weeks. At three weeks, the psilocybin group received a second 25 mg dose of the magic mushroom compound and continued with the daily placebo. The SSRI group received a second placebo, 1 mg dose of psilocybin and also had their daily dose of escitalopram increased to 20 mg. Both groups received an equal amount of extensive psychotherapeutic support and counseling, totaling around 35 to 40 hours during the six week-trial using Watts’s ACE therapeutic model: Accept, Connect, Embody.
Prior to the start of the trial, both groups received multiple and extensive depression assessments, using four different depression rating scales; QIDS- SR-16, HAM-D-1A, BDI-17, and MADRS. Of the four depression inventories, QIDS-SR-16 is the newest, designed for convenience of use so patients can “self-rate” (that’s what the SR stands for), and crucially for this trial, it was the primary scale used to compare psilocybin and escitalopram’s efficacy in fighting depression. However, lead author Robin Carhart-Harris has now stated that should have been better considered because QIDS-SR-16 is the least established of the four scales used. There are several issues as to why it was not the best rating scale to use and its results should be viewed as less accurate, and we will explain those issues below, but first let’s review the trial results as published.
In the abstract, the NEJM concluded:
“On the basis of the change in depression scores on the QIDS-SR-16 at week 6, [the mean (±SE) changes in the scores from baseline to week 6 were −8.0±1.0 points in the psilocybin group and −6.0±1.0 in the escitalopram group, for a between-group difference of 2.0 points] this trial did not show a significant difference in antidepressant effects between psilocybin and escitalopram in a selected group of patients.”
This is an extremely conservative and staid summary for all the rating scales and secondary outcomes. Even so, in my opinion, this alone is phenomenal because they are stating that psilocybin, a psychedelic compound, is at least as effective as a leading SSRI for treating patients with major depressive disorder. But the real results are in the data contained within the appendices and tables, many published in the Supplementary Appendix rather than in the abstract or main study itself, so let’s examine them.
Analyzing the Supplementary Appendix
In clinical research, the two main items to track in depression scores are the “response” rates and the “remission (remitter)” rates. A response rate means there is an improvement in depression symptoms in at least 50% of patients. A remission rate means that a patient no longer has enough symptoms to qualify for a medical diagnosis of depression; for all intents and purposes, it’s effectively gone. So even when we look at the solely at QIDS scores for those two rates, the difference is striking:
“A QIDS-SR-16 response occurred in 70% of the patients in the psilocybin group and in 48% of those in the escitalopram group… QIDS-SR-16 remission occurred in 57% [psilocybin] and 28% [escitalopram]… Other secondary outcomes generally favored psilocybin over escitalopram, but the analyses were not corrected for multiple comparisons. The incidence of adverse events was similar in the trial groups.”
In both ratings for the QIDS scale we see psilocybin outperform escitalopram by nearly double with only two doses as opposed to six weeks of daily doses. But also notice the statement at the end about secondary outcomes favoring psilocybin and that adverse events were similar.
Honestly, these are significant understatements when you look at the secondary outcomes directly in the appendices and tables. Certainly, as a leading scientific journal it’s a far better position to conservatively report the outcome rather than promote the results, but consider the following: In the three other well-established depression inventories, HAM-D, BDI, and MADRS, the response rate for psilocybin at the 6-week mark was between 67.9 and 76.7% while for the SSRI it was only 20.7 to 41.4%. Even more striking are the remission rates, lying between 28.6 and 56.7% for psilocybin while the SSRI produced remission at 6 weeks in 6.9 to 20.7% of participants. (Check out the Supplementary Appendix, pg. 13 to see for yourself.)
As this is a two-dose study, there was a similar outperformance after the first psilocybin dose; in two scales (QIDS and BDI) 33.3 to 51.7% of participants no longer qualified as being depressed by the end of the first week. In my opinion, it can’t be overstated how miraculous these remission rates are; these are patients that have often been non-responsive to other treatments for depression, and have likely been through a gamut of approaches, including psychotherapy, exercise, other antidepressants, alternative therapies, and had yet to find relief, let alone remission after a single week.
When we look at secondary outcomes, there are even more revelations. In a score known as “wellbeing”, participants in the psilocybin group increased 15.8 points after six weeks while those in the SSRI group only improved 6.8 points. This not only shows a reduction in depression symptoms, but a marked improvement in patients’ happiness with their sense of self. This is similarly reflected in the “Flourishing Scale” which found the psilocybin group to improve 14.4 points while the SSRI group only improved by 8.9 points after six weeks.
Other similar secondary outcomes also demonstrated remarkable efficacy for psilocybin including reductions in suicidal ideation, trait anxiety, experiential avoidance, anhedonia (which has implications for chronic pain), emotional breakthrough inventory, psychotropic related sexual dysfunction, and others. A key line to take from the caption for Supplementary Table S1 that compares depression inventory rates across all six weeks is: “All contrasts favored psilocybin. None favored escitalopram.” These are well established depression inventories that are used as the standard of comparison in nearly every modern study testing efficacy against nearly any method or medication for relieving depression, but because they were not chosen as the primary scales, they were classified as secondary outcomes. But if all these scores had been corrected against each other, including the QIDS, psilocybin would have shown to be clearly superior.
So why was QIDS chosen as the primary evaluation instead of the much more frequently employed MADRS inventory? As someone who had to take the MADRS inventory repeatedly in order to qualify for NYU’s investigational study of psilocybin for major depressive disorder, I will tell you it is surprisingly precise and accurate, making it nearly impossible to hide the depths of your disease from yourself. As much as we may mask the symptoms of our disorder to others in order to function in our day to day lives, we may in fact find we mask the severity of our symptoms to an even greater degree to ourselves. According to Carhart-Harris, the choice to use QIDS was almost arbitrary and now considered ill-advised in hindsight. And other professionals on Twitter and elsewhere online are largely in agreement, arguing that QIDS was a scale not designed to measure depression so much as one designed for patient convenience and to measure response to classic SSRIs. For example, QIDS has no measure for wellbeing, emotional breakthrough, experiential avoidance or, dare we say, mystical experiences.
SSRIs modulate and downregulate distressing feelings, but do not generally resolve them, much like a daily salve that keeps negative emotions just under conscious awareness. Psilocybin not only goes to the heart of engaging the origin of troubling feelings, but due to its ability to induce neuroplasticity, it’s theorized that the psychedelic compound directly aids in a cortical reorganization of prior maladaptive circuits and strongly held associations that create the framework of a patient’s life experience and the events in it.
Evaluating the Choice to Use the QIDS Scale
Worth noting about the QIDS scale relative to the other inventories in the study is a concept in statistics known as a confidence interval or CI. When a study is performed, it’s obviously not done on the entire population but on a sample of the population. A confidence interval is a measure of how likely the mean average of the results in the study population would match the mean average of results in the general population. It’s also a measure of how likely those same results would occur if scientists were to repeat the test multiple times.
In a study like this one where two medications are being compared against each other for efficacy, their confidence intervals can be laid out on a table or graph known as a forest plot. When the CIs are displayed on a forest plot, they are shown as a range of most likely results (i.e. -2 to -15). This is key because that allows researchers to demonstrate their confidence that a given range of results would occur for 95% of the general population or in repeated studies. 95% is the agreed upon standard for proof of any statistical significance in patient response to medication for this type of study. However, if on a forest plot, your CI crosses zero (which is the midline between the two groups), there is a far greater likelihood that there is no difference in effect between the groups.
So recall now that Carhart-Harris said that choice of QIDS was arbitrary as the main depression scale for the study and that their team of researchers predicted no difference in effect size between the psilocybin and escitalopram when they submitted the pre-req application to run the study. For more than a week before the study was released, Carhart-Harris did a daily thread on Twitter describing effect size, how different measurements may in fact be measuring the same issue and could be condensed, that NEJM analysis of the results are extremely conservative, but most of all he “implored” readers to view the supplementary tables and appendices, and to particularly look at the confidence intervals for the main inventory and then the confidence intervals for the secondary outcomes.
Carhart-Harris made a very careful note that confidence intervals that do not cross zero are considered statistically significant and those that do cross zero are considered insignificant. He directed us to look at Figure S1 and Table S4 where you will see at the top that the only inventory that crosses zero is the QIDS scale, which strongly implies its result is a false negative in showing no difference in outcome between the SSRI and psilocybin, and we can be confident of that because of the redundancy of the other evaluations they also used. Every other inventory and measure shows psilocybin far out pacing escitalopram by nearly a two to one margin. You can take a look yourself by accessing the study’s Supplementary Appendix, and turning to Section S6. Supplemental Figure S4: Mean change for primary and secondary outcomes with confidence intervals (pg. 16).
Conclusion
Between the extraordinary results in the secondary outcomes, the fact that the QIDS scale was the only inventory to cross zero in the forest plot, and the strong likelihood that modern depression scales aren’t designed to capture the full range of positive personality change that underpin psilocybin’s cortical mechanisms, it’s hard to see how this is not an overwhelming win for psilocybin.
It would certainly be remiss for me to not once again state I was a participant in a very similar study myself who experienced full remission and know others who experienced the same. I would be equally remiss to not mention that for many who took the two doses, their depression returned after a few months—but not all of them. However, this is already the case with standard daily antidepressants. And with psilocybin, there are no sexual side effects, you can actually feel a full range of emotions, and the frequency of dosing is far less. But for people that have either found themselves unresponsive to standard SSRIs, or experience untenable daily side effects from antidepressant medication, psilocybin appears to offer an equal, if not superior, opportunity to recover their happiness and effectiveness in their daily lives.
About the Author
Court Wing has been a professional in the performance and rehab space for the last 30 years. Coming from a performing and martial arts background, Court served as a live-in apprentice to the US Chief Instructor for Ki-Aikido for five years, going on to win the gold medal for the International Competitors Division in Japan in 2000 and achieving the rank of 3rd degree black belt. In 2004, Court became the co-founder of New York’s largest and oldest crossfit gym, and has been featured in the New York Times, Sunday Routine, Men’s Fitness, and USA Today. He is also a certified Z-Health Master Trainer, using the latest interventions in applied neuro-physiology for remarkable improvements in pain, performance, and rehabilitation. You can find out more on his website: https://courtwing.com
A safe and sensitive way to speak with your children about psychedelics, explained.
We are living through rapidly shifting times. As parents in the psychedelic community, we are not only navigating our own medicine work, but realizing a responsibility to help our children make sense of the changing landscape as well. Whether they’re teens perusing Reddit boards and watching Netflix documentaries, or young children overhearing adult conversations about psychedelic medicine or drug policy, young people are constantly absorbing messages about these substances. Parents have an opportunity to help set the tone for ongoing dialogue and intentionally guide their children toward a less stigmatized understanding of psychedelics.
Many advocates feel passionately about reducing stigma around psychedelics as medicine and changing the way we approach substance use as a society. One way that we can interrupt harmful stereotypes and policies is by living our truths within our own families and intervening in the messaging the next generation receives about substance use. By helping young people develop a less sensationalized and more factual and nuanced perspective on psychedelics, we can empower them to make balanced and informed decisions as they grow up.
Because I worked on Measure 109 in Oregon and several cannabis farms beforehand, my son, who is now seven, is unusually adept in his understanding of plant medicine and psychedelics. His introduction to mushrooms came in the context of fighting for healing options in our community, and his understanding of cannabis involved running through fragrant fields on a biodiverse organic farm. We have spoken openly about these medicines his whole life. Because of this, they don’t carry the same frightening charge they had when I was a child, growing up in a strict, Pentecostal home where the mere mention of drugs, let alone curiosity about them, was forbidden.
For those who don’t have opportunities to teach through professional exposure like I did, here are a few tips for starting and navigating a conversation with your children about psychedelics.
Remember that basic communication values apply: Ask for consent before sharing; create opportunities to listen as much as you speak; and be okay with not reaching a tidy conclusion. These topics are far reaching and can be overwhelming. Ideally, they should be infused into larger family conversations and be revisited as they come up naturally over time.
How To Talk With Your Kids About Psychedelics:
Get Clear with Yourself First
Before you open up a conversation with your child, spend some time journaling and reflecting about your own beliefs and assumptions around psychedelics. What are your hard and fast rules about substance use, and how did they come to be? Is it possible that your experience doesn’t paint the whole picture? For example, your profound healing experience with ayahuasca does not mean everyone who uses it will experience the same benefits. Alternately, having a scary experience with LSD does not make LSD inherently dangerous. Do you believe that some substances are inherently harmful and others are inherently beneficial? Why is that? (For a deeper exploration of this subject, read Dr. Carl Hart’s book, Drug Use for Grown-Ups.)
What are your blind spots? See if you can identify your biases, own your unique experience, and not allow your individual narrative to color the entire landscape of your child’s views on drugs. Get clear on the heart of your message and know when to set aside your personal experience in exchange for larger truths.
Get on the Same Page with Your Co-parent
Every family is different. On one end of the spectrum there are parents who use psychedelics together and are prepared to have a family conversation about it. If you are in a co-parenting situation there are added considerations. Is it possible this topic could spark family tension or create a burden of secrecy or pressure to choose sides for your child?
In cases where custody is a consideration, take extra caution. Do you have a co-parent or other adults who may use the knowledge of your usage against you in court?
If at all possible, have a conversation with your co-parent about your relationship with psychedelics and see if you can get on the same page about how to approach this conversation with your children.
Show, Don’t Tell
If you believe psychedelics can be beneficial and part of a healthy, happy life and want to convey this to your child, make sure your lifestyle and substance use reflects this. As the saying goes, lessons are “caught, not taught.” What you model about psychedelics in daily life will speak volumes over the words you say.
Consider the Timing and Risks
The risks and benefits of disclosure are different in every family. If you are currently closeted about your psychedelic use, it might be more beneficial to come out publicly around the same time you open a family dialogue. If you are in a community or job where the implications of your drug use could be damaging to your reputation or employment, seriously consider possible outcomes before proceeding.
Asking your child to keep a secret from friends, parents, and teachers could be a great burden. Make sure you have thought through the potential impacts on your child and your expectations about how they will respond. They may not be able to keep your use a secret, so consider what could happen if they disclose this information to others.
Author, Rebecca Martinez, and her son, Moses.
Open an Ongoing Conversation, Not a One Time Talk
If this is the first time you are broaching the conversation, it may be tempting to overload your child with information to ensure they have all their questions answered. Remember that your support or personal use of psychedelics may come as a surprise and be a lot for them to digest.
Be prepared to have a brief conversation and leave space for questions. Let your child set the terms for how much to discuss. Before moving on to other topics, let your child know you will check in a few days to answer any questions they may have. Be sure to follow through on this.
Consider Age and Awareness Level
How this dialogue plays out will vary widely based on the age of your children. A conversation with small children is not needed. Instead, take a cue from parents using cannabis in the home: Make a habit of keeping substances and supplies securely out of reach and when needed, let children know these medicines are strictly for grown-ups.
If you open the dialogue with your child during grade school, this may be their first introduction to the topic. Ask them questions. Have they heard about psychedelics? What do they already know or believe about them?
Ask for their consent to share about your perspective and explain why you have chosen to have a conversation. Maybe you want to build trust and create a culture of honesty in your home. Perhaps you’re anticipating the messages they’ll get in school and want to offer an alternate perspective. Or maybe you want to be involved in their introduction to psychedelic experiences.
Most older children and teens will be capable of having a more nuanced conversation. Ask them to share what they know and how they feel about drug use. Be prepared to talk about laws, cultural stereotypes, and household expectations.
Don’t Make It a Huge Deal
Kids these days will be exposed to plenty of anti-drug messaging which can feel quite serious and scary. If you approach the topic of psychedelics with too much gravity yourself, you may be sending conflicting messages. They will pick up on your tone, body language, and mood as much as what you say.
If you frame a coming-out conversation more like a confession, or if it is intense and emotionally charged, your child may come away confused about how you feel about your own substance use. By demonstrating that it is easy to have an open, stigma-free conversation about psychedelics, you will open the door to future conversations when they have questions or curiosity.
Explain Your Decision to Use Psychedelics
If your child wants to hear, explain when your relationship with psychedelics started. Talk about things you wish you would have known beforehand.
Discuss your personal path. How has your psychedelic use benefitted or changed you? Do you use them for mental health or in your spiritual development? What are the reasons you support the use of psychedelics?
Share about your personal practices for using them safely. Do you only use them when you’re not parenting? How do you create safe containers and make sure you can still be the best parent and person you can be? Explain what set and setting is, and how intentional use differs from party/recreational use that young people may be exposed to.
Discuss the Laws and Consequences
Times are changing. We are already seeing a wave of changing laws, first with cannabis nationwide, and now with psychedelics in select cities, and possession of all drugs in Oregon. The old reprise, “Don’t use drugs because they are illegal,” is no longer sufficient for talking with kids about drugs. This calls parents to think critically about how they present the issue.
Explain why the age limits on legal substances exist, and the importance of taking extra good care of one’s mind and body, especially during the developmental years.
Help your child understand why you are discreet about your use of psychedelics. Familiarize yourselves with the laws in your area. Discuss the consequences of possession and use of scheduled substances. You may choose to do some research together. It is okay to admit if you feel conflicted about breaking the law to use psychedelics. Most youth appreciate seeing humanity and vulnerability in their parents.
Watch a documentary or read a book together about the war on drugs. Talk about initiatives in your area and what you are doing to help create change. Ask your child to share their thoughts and prepare to be surprised by their clarity and insight.
Explore History and Indigenous Use
Put the use of psychedelics into a historical context. This is information young people won’t be exposed to in school. Emphasize that the ceremonial history of entheogens goes back thousands of years and is far more multifaceted than the American 1960’s psychedelia subculture. Explore stories about Maria Sabina and the Mazatec people of Oaxaca, Mexico, the Bwiti people’s relationship with Iboga in West Central Africa, and other histories of ceremonial psychedelic use around the world. What is your family’s heritage? See if you can find the pre-colonial traditional use of entheogens in your ancestral line.
Discuss the Research
Most children know someone who is affected by depression, addiction, or PTSD. In an age-appropriate way, explain that there are research institutions finding ways psychedelics can help people heal their minds and spirits and live happier, healthier lives.
Ask what your child thinks about these medicines being used in a medical context, and be willing to listen and answer questions they may have.
Explain the Experience
If alcohol is commonplace in your home, explain that, like drinking alcohol or using certain medications, taking psychedelics has temporary effects on the mind and body which make it unsafe to drive or work while under the influence.
Take time to clarify assumptions and common misconceptions. Discuss how the media’s portrayal of psychedelics differs from your firsthand experience. If your child wants to know what psychedelics feel like, be sure to highlight the emotional and spiritual sensations as much as the visual and sensory experiences associated with them. Try to find common ground when broaching this topic, for example, many children relate to the idea of a dream quest or journey, especially if they are interested in fantasy books or media.
Talk about the power of language. To you, are these substances drugs that you trip on, or are they medicines for healing experiences and journey work? Do you use them to unwind and relax, or as a ceremonial part of your spiritual practice? It’s important to get clear with yourself first, and then explain to your child using your preferred language.
Discuss your Expectations and House Rules
Explain why there are age restrictions on the use of legal mind-altering substances. Define what you see as an appropriate age for use, revisit the legal risks and ramifications of use, and set clear household expectations. Some parents want to be present for their child’s first psychedelic experience. Some want to source the supplies for them. Others want their child to feel safe calling them if they find themselves in situations that feel unsafe or out of control. Whatever expectations you set, be prepared to follow through on this commitment.
Remember that your child will choose to do what they wish, and that building trust and open lines of communication will lead to more safety than simply enforcing hard and fast rules.
As you wrap up the conversation, be sure to emphasize your openness to your child with phrases like: “If you ever have questions, I am here for you. There are no stupid questions and I will do my best to create a judgment-free space for you.”
Provide Alternative Resources
Depending on your relationship, your child may not feel fully comfortable opening up about their questions or experiences with you. If they want to learn more, offer books, films, organizations, or documentaries, and perhaps a trusted mentor you can refer them to.
Things to Avoid When Speaking with Your Children About Psychedelics
Overloading: Take cues from your child on whether they have heard enough or are engaged and want to hear more.
One Sided Conversation: Create space for your child’s comments, questions and concerns. If they don’t have much to say, assure them this is fine and don’t push it.
Binaries: Good-bad, us-them, right-wrong type of language can make children feel pressured to pick sides in a highly nuanced conversation.
Showing Your Stash: There’s no benefit in showing your child where your drugs are kept or how they are used during this conversation.
Stories About Bad Trips or Scary Experiences: Modern children will hear enough anti-drug messaging during their lives. Your child needs to feel that you, as their parent, are secure and safe in order to feel secure and safe.
Conclusion
Part of the beauty of psychedelics is they introduce us to a more complex and interconnected view of the world. Through the lens of expanded states of consciousness, the world seems at once simple and profoundly intricate. Children have an innate capacity to see the world this way. Beyond the binaries of modern life exists a space for nuance and relationship. See if you can meet your child there.
It takes courage and commitment to the process to talk with children about psychedelics. When we do so, we are breaking generational patterns of stigma, fear and secrecy. The conversation around psychedelics could open up doors into deeper trust and communication with your child. Perhaps, by changing the culture in our homes, we can begin to change the culture at large.
About the Author
Rebecca Martinez is a Portland, Oregon-based writer, parent and community organizer. She is a co-founder of the Fruiting Bodies Collective, an advocacy group, podcast and multimedia platform exploring the intersections between healing justice and the psychedelics movement.
Paradigm-shifting tools don’t fit into paradigmatically static ways of doing things
Psychedelics. Maybe you’ve heard. They’re having a bit of a moment right now. And for good reason. To name just a few examples, the Multidisciplinary Association of Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) is moving MDMA-assisted therapy for PTSD through the FDA approval process. Decriminalization of psychedelics, including LSD (!), is taking place at a breakneck pace. Psilocybin-assisted therapy was even legalized in Oregon during the 2020 election. And, multi-million dollar research institutions are also popping up left and right.
However, there’s an elephant in the room. The looming presence of large, for-profit companies swallowing up patents left and right and ostensibly becoming the primary option for psychedelic therapies of the future is becoming too big to ignore.
It’s beginning to get called out, for a start. More articles are popping up rightfully critiquing this situation as an issue. About a month ago, famous entrepreneur Tim Ferriss kicked off a question on his blog asking if there are any viable alternatives to for-profit psychedelic companies. In reply, Christian Angermayer, one of the main investors behind Compass Pathways, a for-profit psilocybin-assisted therapy company responsible for a large chunk of the patent grab, basically said, “Nope”.
This is disheartening to many in the psychedelic field, to say the least. Most of us didn’t become advocates for psychedelics because they promised to make our healthcare system a bit more effective and a few people a lot more rich. We became advocates for psychedelics because they offered a promise of a better way of doing things; not just for healing, but for the world.
Traditional for-profit companies that are seemingly dominating the space are a betrayal of that promise, especially when no viable, scalable alternative seems to be in sight. Luckily, I think there is a true paradigm-busting healing model that’s not only a proper fit for psychedelics, but has been worked on for years right under our glitter-speckled toenails. We just haven’t yet given it a name. But first, let’s address the elephant in the room: equity.
The Equity Elephant in the Room
I’d like to call this elephant in the room the “Equity Elephant” for two reasons. One is that this elephant is largely a product of private equity entering into the psychedelic space a few years ago. Think venture capital and angel investors. Another reason for deeming it the Equity Elephant is that the response to large, for-profit companies dominating the psychedelic space has largely been one of increasing equity in terms of fairness—or in other words—increasing access. This makes sense considering that most of the companies in question are derived from our healthcare system, which is not exactly the Cadillac of compassion and accessibility.
Thus, the question around what to do about the Equity Elephant has largely been around increasing access. There’s a problem with this, however. Much like how the old paradigm for mental health failed because it treated symptoms rather than causes, increasing access to a system that is inaccessible by design isn’t really going to do all that much good.
We became advocates for psychedelics because they offered a promise of a better way of doing things; not just for healing, but for the world.
Another issue is that we’ve only so far been using one half of the meaning of the word “equity”. Another important use of the word is equity as ownership. So far, asking who owns the future of psychedelic healing has been relatively off the table when it should really be on the tips of our tongues.
First, let’s dive into what ownership means a little more. Ownership is not just about who gets to keep the profits from something. This is another relic from the old paradigm. It’s also about who has the power to direct something’s future. It’s about stewardship, rather than just status. Equity as a term, defined as meaningful power over directing something, needs to be put to use yesterday in the psychedelic space.
The absence of discussing equity as ownership is, in my opinion, why the Equity Elephant in the room is so disheartening. It exemplifies a radical feeling of disempowerment by us in the psychedelic scene who’ve experienced profound healing benefits from these substances. When faced with these behemoths of capitalism making such large strides in the psychedelic space, it’s no wonder we feel outmatched. These organizations don’t strike us as stewards to the future we’re trying to bring about.
But fear not. Now that we know equity is about access and ownership, or fusing them together to increase access to ownership, I think some very promising alternatives will begin to emerge.
Before we go into what those are though, let’s take a quick look at who, in my opinion, actuallyowns the psychedelic future and why they’re charting its path forward: community-based psychedelic organizations.
Community-Based Psychedelic Healing
Perhaps I’m a bit biased. I have been leading the Brooklyn Psychedelic Society since 2016. But to me, what’s been taking place at psychedelic societies across the globe over the past years is muchmore headline worthy than a new multi-million dollar psychedelic company popping up overnight.
Psychedelic societies are self-organized, mutually supporting organizations that together form a grassroots movement of thousands of healers, seekers, organizers, artists, psychedelically curious, and many, many more that have been healing each other with little input from traditional therapeutic institutions. They’ve been doing this for years in ways that regular for-profit companies can only dream of, in an effective, decentralized, evenly distributed and accessible manner.
Why isn’t this getting any headlines? Well for one, twenty people gathering in a park for an integration session with a net yield of $8 and some palo santo sticks isn’t exactly click bait. It’s also because it’s emblematic of a pattern that took me many a psychedelic trips to realize: The most transformative changes aren’t in the headline-grabbing epiphanies (I’M GOD?!!), but in the little, subtle things that we integrate and adopt into our lives patiently and gradually over time (I really need to start painting again and be nicer to people). And that’s exactly the kind of transformation that psychedelic societies have been holding space for.
Because of this, a bonafide healing modality on its own has emerged: community-based healing. Besides just anecdotes from the hundreds of people I’ve met who’ve gotten healing through our community and other psychedelic societies around the world, there’s good ol’ science to back this up as well.
Much like how the old paradigm for mental health failed because it treated symptoms rather than causes, increasing access to a system that is inaccessible by design isn’t really going to do all that much good.
Mike Margolies, founder of Psychedelic Seminars, even came up with a nifty acronym to describe this approach: PEACH (Psychedelic Education and Community Healing) that I highly recommend reading. But, why is community-based healing its own approach altogether?
As mentioned earlier, the old mental health paradigm was failing because it treated symptoms rather than causes. We know that isolation and loneliness exacerbate some of the conditions psychedelics treat so effectively, such as addiction and depression. Thus, delivering psychedelic healing in environments that lack an authentic social component seems to repeat the same mistake of the old paradigm, albeit with better tools.
Of course, clinical modalities for psychedelic therapy should always be available and made as accessible as possible—if that’s what’s needed by the person seeking healing. I don’t think community-based healing will or should replace therapy altogether. But it does seem to be a genuine fourth context that goes beyond the clinical, retreat, and recreational settings, and should probably be the first place to go when someone is seeking a transformative experience.
Psychedelic Mutualism
While we are on a streak of trying to get to the root of things, I’d like to briefly outline what I think is the core philosophical difference between the community-based approach to psychedelic healing and those of the clinical models.
The difference is that community-based approaches take interdependence not just as a fact of life, but as a necessaryaspectof well-being and growth, especially when it comes to healing. This is called “mutualism” in biology and is something that ecologists have long been saying is key in order to awake from our anthropocentrism.
Therefore, psychedelic mutualism is the philosophy that emphasizes community, interdependence, and proactive peer support as centralto growth and flourishing on both an individual and societal level.
The clinical and retreat models contrast with this approach. These modalities are derived from an older philosophy: We are all atomized individuals with consciences that need to be preserved and kept secure. Hence the model: Go to a clinic and get your healing, and then go back to your private life, work and all the other dysfunctions of modern living included.
Sure, these settings might have some community components to them, such as check-ins with retreat members for a few weeks after the journey. But this is not core to their operating philosophy.
Psychedelic mutualism, and the healing modality in which it’s most exemplified, community-based healing or “PEACH”, puts community at its core. The psychedelic experience shows us this in spades by revealing our interdependence not only intellectually but viscerally, in our minds, bodies and hearts.
So how do we scale these modalities to not only increase access, but also increase ownership over them? In other words, how do we democratize the ownership of psychedelic healing?
The Cooperative Model of Ownership
Most traditional organizations are either non-profit or for-profit, with a board, an executive team, managers, employees, and then the people they serve (usually, the customers). While input is sometimes welcomed by other stakeholders within and outside the organization, the decisions are ultimately made by a small handful of people.
Using our definition of ownership as meaningful power and say over something’s future, these organizations are centrally owned. There is an alternative to this model called worker or member owned “cooperatives”.Cooperatives, or co-ops, work differently than the organizations previously mentioned. A cooperative is democratically owned (decentralized) and controlled by its members. Its members can be its workers, its consumers, a combination of both, or any number of different combinations depending on the needs of the community that it serves. Each member gets to vote on the direction of different parts of the organization’s future.
Thus, the key difference between co-ops and regular for-profit companies is that they’re owned by the people that produce and use their services. Put in another way, the profits made by cooperative organizations are in service to the community, not vice versa.
Cooperatives are social and equitable (in both the access and ownership sense) by design, rather than community being a nice byproduct. In other words, mutualism is baked into how they operate. One of the best accounts of this model specifically in a psychedelic context is Bennet Zelner’s Pollinator Model. In his article, Zelner contrasts “pollinator” organizations—those that contribute to the wellness of its members, surrounding communities and society—with “extractive” organizations that accrue value for its shareholders but don’t distribute that value to those they serve or are adjacent to.
Most of the companies that the psychedelic community is rightfully up in arms about are the latter variety. The co-op model is just the answer we’ve been waiting for, I believe. It just has to be applied.
Owning Our Future with Psychedelic Co-ops
You can’t fit a paradigm-busting tool, like psychedelics, into a paradigmatically-static context, like our healthcare systems and traditional for-profit companies. You also can’t use an old philosophy to help shoehorn it in. The settings and operant philosophy needed for psychedelic healing to scale in an authentic way must be at least as transformative as the tools and modalities they are provisioning.
So far, however, no viable and scalable alternatives have been presented. This is where cooperatives and psychedelic mutualism enter into the picture. Yes, large for-profit companies will be in the space. But they are not the end all be all. One day, I hope for-profit companies in the space will be the alternative to the default model: psychedelic co-ops.
Psychedelic co-ops would treat psychedelics and healing as they are meant to be treated: as a publicly accessible service that’s for the benefit of all, in the communities they serve. We have all the building blocks we need to not only construct our psychedelic future, but to own it. So all we need to do now is build. Together.
About the Author
Colin Pugh is the executive director of the Brooklyn Psychedelic Society (BPS), a MAPS-sponsored organization whose mission is to make psychedelic healing a publicly accessible good through community, education, democratic ownership, and advocacy.
Many in the Black community are weary of psychedelic therapy because of stigma rooted in the racist War on Drugs. But how do we begin to change that?
Last year I wrote an article entitled “Why Don’t More Black People Use Psychedelics?” I cited several reasons as to why we haven’t seen psychedelics embraced by Black people at the same rate as other groups. One of those reasons was that drug use has been highly stigmatized, especially in Black communities.
Another topic that has been heavily stigmatized within Black culture is therapy. As a result, many Black people are hesitant to try a treatment that involves both drugs and therapy.
Numerous research studies have shown that psychedelics can aid in the treatment of trauma, depression and PTSD. According to Medical News Today, “Depression is about as prevalent in Black communities as in white ones, but there are significant differences. Black people face different social pressures that may increase their risk of depression.”
These risks include but are not limited to:
Racial trauma
Difficult life experiences as a result of racism
Barriers and lack of access to mental health resources
Socioeconomic inequalities are another stressor that can increase poor mental health. In 2019, Black people represented 13.2% of the total population in the United States, but 23.8% of the poverty population. According to the organization Mental Health America: “Black and African American people living below poverty are twice as likely to report serious psychological distress than those living above the poverty level.”
Equity in psychedelics has been a popular topic of discussion. For those of us that are committed to equity in this space, what can we do to help destigmatize drugs in the Black community?
1. Normalize Drug Use
Society has led us to believe that illegal drugs are harmful while prescriptive drugs are useful.
This is not true.
We can end this harmful narrative by normalizing the use of drugs, all drugs.
In his latest book, Drug Use for Grown-Ups, Dr. Carl Hart writes about his experience with recreational heroin use. He shares that he uses heroin to unwind at the end of his day, the same way many of us turn to a glass of wine. Dr. Hart is not addicted. Instead, he says that his use of heroin has increased his overall life satisfaction. In order for our society to start to normalize drug use, we need to hear more of these stories.
2. Normalize Therapy in the Black Community
In the Black community, mental illness is a taboo topic and often, we’re labeled as “crazy” if we seek mental health services. Instead, we’re told to find solace in the church or prayer. In order to start to normalize therapy, we need to educate ourselves and each other about mental health. Part of that education needs to involve open and honest conversation about mental health in schools, churches and in the Black community.
3. More BIPOC Representation in the Media
Psychedelics have been portrayed in the media as a drug for white guys. We rarely see the portrayal of a Black man taking a trip on acid or psilocybin. Documentaries such as Hamilton’s Pharmacopeia and Psychonautics have helped to destigmatize psychedelic drug use, but not in Black communities. While I’m glad that these shows exist, they need to include faces that look like ours.
4. More Black Representation in Healthcare
Only 4% of all therapists in this country are Black. Finding any therapist you connect with can be hard. Finding a Black therapist can prove to be even more of a challenge. And if you’re in search of a Black psychedelic therapist, that can be nearly impossible. Just as we need to see faces that reflect ours in the media, we need to see that representation in the healthcare industry as well.
Our current healthcare system includes racial and ethnic biases which can impact the quality of care Black people receive. As a result, this may deter a person from the community to seek care. We need more Black therapists, trip sitters and educators in this space. We can start by seeking out future therapists and introducing them to these medicines and the benefits they offer.
For those in the Black community who want to pursue the path of becoming a therapist or healthcare professional, there needs to be adequate funding offered to support our education as well as our future research studies.
Conclusion
We can begin to normalize the stigma of psychedelics in the Black community by sharing information, having open conversations and seeing diverse representationin this space. The Black community has the added pressure of overcoming the stigma of both drug use and therapy, but the more we talk about these medicines and this work, the more normalized they will become.
Black people are traumatized. We not only live with current daily racial trauma, but the generational trauma endured by our ancestors as well. Psychedelics offer us a path to healing that exists outside of Western medicine. If we can begin to undo the stigma and shame associated with drugs and therapy, then as a community, we can finally begin to heal.
About the Author
Robin Divine is the founder of Black People Trip
Robin Divine is a writer, psychedelic advocate and the creator of Black People Trip, an online community with a mission to raise awareness, promote education, teach harm reduction, and create safe spaces for Black women interested in psychedelic use. If you’d like to support Robin in her mission to bring Black People Trip to more women of color, check out her Patreon or find @DivineRobin on Venmo.
We know this past year has been extremely challenging and isolating. Humans are social creatures by nature, and quarantine and social distancing have been hard on all of our psyches and mental health. But as a community, we have to get real: if we really want what’s best for the collective whole of humanity, the truth is that it’s still not safe to meet up in big groups to do psychedelic work or ceremonies.
We’ve been talking about it a lot on the podcast, especially on Solidarity Fridays, so here is a reminder in print: COVID-19 is real, psychedelics and spirituality won’t make you exempt from catching and spreading it, and therefore, it’s still too dangerous to be doing group psychedelic work.
Often, when people justify disregarding masks or social distancing measures, their line of reasoning is that they’re not a senior citizen or immunocompromised, and so the current safety precautions don’t apply to them. But this is not a zero-sum, “die or survive” game, and it’s not just about you and your healing; it’s about the people around you–employees at your local grocery store, your bus or taxi driver, the nurses, doctors, and teachers in your community–people you don’t know and don’t think about, who still might be harmed by your actions.
And COVID-19 is not temporary. There are psychedelic community members with vagus nerve damage, permanent vocal cord damage from severe coughing, lung issues, and other serious long-term conditions. We know plenty of people in their 30s and 40s who survived COVID-19 and thought everything was fine, but their post-virus quality of life has since been severely lowered. We know folks who are still sick, struggling with chronic pain, brain fog, and low energy for over a year, who have therefore been unable to work and have become dependent on family members to support them as their recovery extends past the 13, 14, and 15-month marks.
Beyond our immediate community, a recent study published in The Lancet journal of psychiatry found that a significant portion of COVID-19 survivors were diagnosed with a neurological or psychiatric condition within 6 months of contracting COVID, many for the first time. And remember- we’re still seeing COVID variants pop up, so while many feel we’re making our way out of this dark period, we may still have a long way to go.
And it sucks. We understand people are struggling right now. Kyle sees it every day in his therapy and coaching practice, and we all feel it. Being in isolation and lacking human connection is extremely hard, unnatural, and affecting us all. The need for healing and contact is immense and only getting bigger, and we absolutely empathize with you all. We understand that it goes against our individualistic cultural conditioning, but this is a social responsibility that is beyond individual healing or personal politics, and we have to think communally. When the community is sick, the individual is sick. And when the individual is sick, the community is sick.
When we’ve posted about this on social media, we’ve had folks bring up suicide statistics from 2020, using the high number as an argument for encouraging much-needed psychedelic healing work. Everyone on our team has lost someone to suicide and we know how difficult that is, and also how easy it is to think that perhaps an ayahuasca or mushroom ceremony could have saved our loved ones from their afflictions. So it feels insensitive to compare numbers of deaths against each other, but since that’s something that gets brought up a lot, look into it: while the 2020 stats aren’t final and don’t take overdoses into account, the numbers are actually very similar to 2019, with the number of deaths directly attributed to COVID-19 being drastically higher. It’s uncomfortable to think about, but the numbers speak for themselves. This is beyond our emotional ties to the issue; this is for the sake of the whole community of humanity.
The fact of the matter is, psychedelic group work involves a lot of touching, being close together for 6 to 12 hours, and being in close proximity to others’ bodily fluids while we cough, purge, or cry. Cups of water, pipes, snuff tools, and tobacco cigars are often shared. People hold hands, hug, and practice bodywork with each other. These are all optimal opportunities for viruses to spread. Plus, when you are under the influence of a psychedelic medicine, the realities of social distancing and spreading germs won’t exactly be in the forefront of your mind and can easily be cast aside as “silly human problems.” And while that belief may feel freeing, it won’t protect you from catching or spreading disease.
Are there safe options for participating in psychedelic healing work? At the moment, we think the safest option for those looking for mental health relief with psychedelics is ketamine-assisted psychotherapy and infusions. Unlike underground group work or retreats abroad, ketamine clinics and practitioners are regulated by organizations like OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration) in the US, meaning they have to follow governmental guidelines for safe and sterile working environments. Also, ketamine infusions, injections, lozenges, and nasal sprays are not typically done in groups, and if they are, they also follow social distancing protocols, as outlined in our recent piece on the topic.
We understand that for many, treatment options like ketamine-assisted psychotherapy may not be accessible or appropriate, and some people will still participate in group work anyway. To those people, we encourage everyone to do everything as safely as possible by only engaging in small ceremonies that are following strict safety and social distancing protocols and have contact tracing in place. If the work can be done outside, do it there. And if you’re traveling, please quarantine in consideration of the communities you’re traveling between. But don’t forget- there are lots of virtual psychedelic community offerings to keep us all engaged too. And think about the other work you can do, from meditation, breathwork, and journaling, to creating art or just going for a walk in the woods. Not all healing comes from psychedelics and group work.
As more people get vaccinated and the world begins to reopen, we are all feeling the excitement to move towards the sense of normalcy we all miss so much. But this is a slow process, and we encourage everyone to continue to move slowly, stay cautious, and continue engaging in safe practices and social distancing measures until we get there.
We know that this is not what a lot of the psychedelic community wants to hear, but regardless of how unpopular putting this out might make us, we feel it’s a necessary reminder that we all have a shared responsibility to keep our communities safe.
Thanks for your support,
Joe, Kyle, & the rest of the Psychedelics Today team
Internal Family Systems therapy, or IFS, is an effective complement to psychedelic therapy and integration. But how does this therapeutic approach – best known for working with the many pieces of the psyche that comprise one’s personality, or “parts,” – work in conjunction with psychedelic medicines?
My own experiences with this modality enabled me to better understand how it works.
Navigating inner space is always a surprisingly visual journey for me. In one particular session, my eyes had been closed for a while. And this time, in a guided Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy session, the powerful visual component was exactly the same.
There are many paths from which one can enter the inner world, known as “trailheads” in this detailed method of psychotherapy. Just taking a few breaths within this dark, introspective place, I could feel something churning like magma in my stomach. I saw and felt hot, crackling flames of anger percolating within my abdomen; painful memories of betrayal filtered through my consciousness.
Using this bodily trailhead as an entry point and working through the “parts” that hallmark the IFS approach, my therapist began to gently ask about it, as if the anger was a sentient presence.
“What would your anger do if it didn’t have to keep doing this job?” I heard from what now seemed like a far-off place.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I like the anger. I know it’s here to protect me. We get along.”
It felt deeply familiar, like a well-worn sweatshirt that I couldn’t bring myself to let go of. It was safe. Or rather, it kept me safe. In the language of IFS, I had contacted a protective part of my psyche, which in this case, was a flaming cauldron of anger.
“Good. Let the anger know that you appreciate it. Really let it feel that… what does the anger have to say to you now?”
“That sometimes we lose people,” I sighed. “And that that’s OK.” These simple words gave way to a massive sense of release.
I felt the turbulent energy inside me suddenly transform into something which encompassed my entire awareness. The fiery magma of anger which coursed through my body a minute ago shifted into something that I can only describe as an emotionally expansive, all-inclusive moment of peace.
This space was familiar. I had felt it before, this wordless balance between bliss and sorrow which the thinking mind, or “ego”, seems to dissolve in.
Now, instead of feeling the flames inside me, I was inside the flame itself. I felt my entire body relax. My mind, a psychic battleground only moments before, was quiet.
I exhaled into a stillness which resonated throughout my cells. The immensity of all of life’s crushing beauty somatically flooded through my nervous system and inner vision. I felt my heart beat and my lungs expand as forgiveness flowed through my entire body. My mind relinquished control, letting the story behind this painful life chapter melt into the purifying, boundless flame I suddenly found myself engrossed in. I was deeply immersed in what IFS therapists call the energy of “the Self.”
The distant voice advised me to stay there as long as I could. And so I did, until time began to loosen its grip upon my consciousness.
As powerful as any psychedelic moment of healing, this visionary journey was facilitated by a therapist in my Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy training program. After being guided through this modality, my suspicions around its potential for use in psychedelic therapy and integration were confirmed beyond a doubt.
What Is Internal Family Systems (IFS) Therapy?
Developed by Dr. Richard Schwartz in the late 1980’s, Internal Family Systems is a psychotherapy modality rapidly growing in popularity. As an outgrowth of his work studying family systems therapy and working with patients struggling with severe eating disorders, Schwartz noticed that his clients spoke about their inner conflict in terms of “parts” of themselves guiding their troubling behaviors and inner conflicts.
In what is ironically a radical act in many areas of the psychological establishment, Schwartz actually took his clients at their word.
Integrating his knowledge of family systems, as well as the work of Carl Jung and other psychotherapeutic pioneers, Schwartz created the IFS model which embraces the notion that our personalities are actually composed of a symphony of different parts, as well as a core, boundless source of energy that both Jung and Schwartz deemed “the Self.”
“There are times where you just can’t convince these protective parts to let us get to an exile and heal it. And a psychedelic session can expedite that pretty easily, it seems,” Schwartz told Psychedelics Today.
When asked about working with IFS and MDMA, Mithoefer said, “I have learned how well the spontaneous observations and experiences of our participants map onto IFS, including both parts and the Self… in my experience, people are hungry for this perspective. (Richard Schwartz) didn’t make it up – IFS taps into real phenomena.”
Schwartz says his experiences with psychedelics and the insights he gathered through substance work helped open his awareness to the “multiplicity of mind,” a core principle of IFS.
In the past, the field of psychology viewed subpersonalities with great skepticism, giving way to infamous diagnoses such as dissociative identity disorder (DID), formerly called multiple personality disorder (MPD). Yet IFS, a non-pathologizing form of psychotherapy, looks at the many subpersonalities, or parts, as natural facets of the psyche–aspects of ourselves which yearn to be known, understood, and healed.
As a depth psychotherapist, I was trained to suss out the unconscious and possibly archetypal aspects of a given dynamic or situation with my clients. Image and metaphor have long been the bread and butter of depth psychology, with myths and fairytales frequently providing the backdrop for some of this tradition’s most memorable texts. In other words, both depth psychology and IFS take to heart the notion that image and psyche are one and the same.
After slowly developing my own therapeutic style, which is influenced not only by human teachers, but psychedelic plant teachers as well, IFS felt like an immensely practical tool with which to weave this odd tapestry of animism, image, and archetypes.
After all, what is an archetype if not psychic energy crystallized into an image?
What are “Parts” in IFS?
For millennia, psychedelic medicines have been used by humans to invoke visions, as well as bring one into dialog with some larger presence: the Great Spirit, the spirits of teacher plants, animals, elements, or the ancestors. Especially with ayahuasca, DMT, and other tryptamine-containing substances, people report encountering beings or entities who often communicate detailed information that can be recalled after the effect itself has worn off.
Whether these entities are mere reflections, or personifications of psychic parts,is a valid, but different, discussion. The point is that when one goes deep enough into the mind, research and anecdotal evidence proves that it is not unusual to encounter presences that seem entirely other than one’s own self.
Instead of entities, beings, or spirits, IFS employs the language of partsto describe the psychic presences which collectively constitute one’s personality.
As a psychedelic integration therapist, IFS provided me with a systematized toolkit for working with people trying to make sense of the paradigm-bending moments that can often occur during a psychedelic journey.
For example: take the voice that suddenly tells you to quit your job; the sinking feeling in your stomach when you think about a memory from childhood; feelings of unworthiness that you’re doing it all wrong; or that suddenly you’re not safe, despite all evidence to the contrary. From the IFS perspective, these are most likely parts expressing themselves and asking for your attention. From a shamanic perspective, these messages might be coming from the spirit of the plant you just ingested, from the ancestors, or from something else entirely.
For psychedelic explorers who prefer not to think in terms of spiritsor entities, IFS can provide a useful method of conceptualizing and categorizing potentially confusing aspects of psychedelic experiences that might not fit within their worldview.
Defining “Self” in Internal Family Systems
Both IFS and psychedelics work by reconnecting one to an internal source of transpersonal energy, which Schwartz, taking a page from Carl Jung, calls “the Self.”
IFS has the potential to lead one into profoundly visionary and emotionally cathartic experiences. For me, IFS has been comparable to some of the most healing moments that I’ve experienced with psychedelic medicines.
IFS can provide both facilitators and participants a language by which to conceptualize and map an experience that would otherwise be, by its very nature, ineffable.
In describing the energy of the Self, Schwartz developed what he calls the “eight C’s”:
Compassion
Curiosity
Calm
Clarity
Courage
Connectedness
Confidence
Creativity
In IFS, it is the energy of the Self, not the therapist, that truly heals.
The good news here is that everyone, regardless of past trauma or experiences, has within them the boundless energy of Self. Thus, IFS believes that everyone has the capacity to heal.
The notion of the Selffirmly locates IFS therapy in the terrain of existential-humanistic, transpersonal, and depth psychology, all of which form the foundations of emerging and long-standing modalities of psychedelic psychotherapy (for examples, see Grof, 1975, Stolaroff, 1997, and Leary, Metzner & Alpert, 2007).
One could say that within the psychological establishment, the idea of the Selfis as radical a notion as LSD being used to heal. In many mental health agencies or governmental health services, both concepts would likely be given a sideways glance at best, mockery or early termination at worst.
In my own psychedelic experiences, I can recall moments of feeling immersed in many of the eight C’s.Formal research has yet to be conducted connecting the Jungian and IFS concept of the Selfwithin psychedelic experiences and its potential for healing, though the work of Stanislav Grof, as well as Griffith’s research mentioned above, comes close.
Perhaps the expansive, all-encompassing energy of the Self is what the famous Mazatec curandera, Maria Sabina was referring to when she said, “Heal yourself, with beautiful love, and always remember, you are the medicine.”
How Psychedelic Integration Could Employ IFS
After a psychedelic experience, my clients often share what can seem like a deluge of information, imagery, and questions. In addition to archetypal imagery, transpersonal, and shamanic perspectives, IFS provides me a detailed map for understanding and deeping into the integration process with clients. Often, there are recognizable themes or patterns that can emerge during a psychedelic experience – for good or ill.
Here are some core concepts in IFS therapy that I have found useful while facilitating integration work: “Unburdening,” “Polarization,” and “Blending.”
“Unburdening” in IFS
If one could distill IFS therapy down to a single sentence, it could be that it consists of helping certain parts of ourselves let go of outdated or inherited ways of being that cause us to suffer.
IFS calls this process “unburdening,” as it understands that certain parts take on “burdens” early in life which, as we grow, might become less and less helpful or healthy.
This unburdening is achieved by establishing a connection to the Self, so that the part can realize it doesn’t have to do it all by itself, that it’s not alone, and that its past experiences don’t dictate the future. Usually, these moments are profoundly cathartic and emotional. It can also take an immense amount of work to get there, which is why psychedelics can potentially play a helpful role in this therapeutic process.
From an IFS perspective, unburdening is often what happens in a positive psychedelic experience, and can be some of the most memorable moments of the journey. For example, metaphorically giving your anger to the fire; letting your grief float away into the ocean; or planting your sadness into earth. Such images are common in both IFS therapy sessions and psychedelic journeys.
Through the lens of IFS, our stories about who we are or how the world is might be a burden carried by a part. For instance, seeing oneself as a savior, victim, martyr, or outcast is a story that might be severely limiting one’s idea of who they really are and their self worth. Tendencies towards workaholism or scarcity fears, chronic shame, feelings of not being enough and needing to prove oneself, are all burdens that certain parts might carry for decades. Many burdens were placed upon us during childhood by family members, and in that sense are not true reflections of who we really are.
On an even deeper level, some burdens are inherited through our blood lineage and ancestry, or experienced through what author and psychotherapist Resmaa Menakem calls HIPP (historical, intergenerational, persistent institutional, and personal) trauma. These heavy burdens may inform every aspect of someone’s life, and are heartbreakingly real, but are still not accurate reflections of who they truly are.
Trauma twists someone’s story about who they are. Healing helps rewrite it.
“Polarization” in Internal Family Systems
Dealing with “polarization” between parts is a common occurrence in IFS therapy sessions. Through an IFS lens, challenging psychedelic experiences can often occur because these same polarized parts are amplified during a journey. Looping or confusion – a frequent element of a bad trip – might be seen as an extreme polarization.
Polarization is like an inner battle. A difficult psychedelic experience might occur because of this inner tension: one part wants to surrender, another part is terrified to do so. One part says to take a second dose, another part cautions against it. One part wants to lay down under a blanket, another wants to stand up, stretch, and go outside. Such conundrums can be viewed through IFS as polarized parts playing a psychic tug-of-war.
This can get exhausting. And usually, there is a much deeper process going on beneath. The IFS therapist’s job is to tend to the parts that arise with compassion, to witness them, help them unburden, and reconnect them to the energy of the Self.
“Blending” in IFS
We all have certain parts that become strong aspects of our personality. Many people who live outwardly successful lives might be plagued by a “manager” part which acts as a strict taskmaster, inwardly limiting their creative expression and spontaneity. High levels of anxiety, especially social anxiety, can be viewed through IFS as a “critical manager” or “worrisome exile” part which gains control in uncertain situations. Or someone struggling with a strong addiction, for example, can often revert to what’s called a “firefighter”–a reactive part that rushes in to dramatically protect the system when triggered, even though it ultimately sabotages that person’s wellbeing.
Such experiences are referred to in IFS as “blending.”
Fear of letting go, or becoming stuck in certain thought patterns is a basic example of being “blended” in a psychedelic state. The psychic energy being taken up by the part in question is inhibiting one from connecting to the body, the deep nervous system, and the Self, which is how healing most easily occurs.
Extreme examples of negative outcomes from psychedelics can often be seen through this idea of blending.
How many of us have experienced someone – possibly ourselves – fresh out of a psychedelic state convinced they are either some kind of messiah with a sacred mission, or at fault for some global catastrophe, disaster, or cosmic mishap?
Taken to the extremes, this is the stuff that psychedelic-induced psychosis is made of.
And almost guaranteed, there is a much deeper reason why the part in question took over. Likely, it is to protect the psyche from facing something incredibly scary or traumatic.
From a Jungian lens, one could view these extreme examples of blending as a type of “archetypal possession,” resulting from some form of inflation. During an archetypal possession, according to Jung, an archetype takes “hold of the psyche with a kind of primeval force and compels it to transgress the bounds of humanity. The consequence is a puffed-up attitude, loss of free will, delusion and enthusiasm for good and evil alike.
Interestingly, psychedelics can both inflate or deflate the ego, filling someone up with grandiose visions of spreading the “good news,” or reducing one into a fragile shell of themselves.
This is the critical role of integration: to recalibrate the ego with the Self, to witness and guide the vulnerable parts that need care, and to ground potentially expansive visions into a genuine path of tangible healing.
Using IFS to Navigate Psychedelic Journeys
Beyond integration, IFS can offer an immensely valuable toolkit for navigating psychedelic space as well. Speaking from personal experience, IFS has helped me to create more psychic spaciousness within a journey. Much like mindfulness, remembering my IFS training has helped me practice observing, rather than getting “hooked” into particular thoughts and feelings that might emerge during a psychedelic experience.
The basic premise of IFS is that the psyche is inhabited, and that we can learn to dialog with these presences or parts. Remembering this simple fact, I’ve been able to remain in a space of gentle curiosity when, for instance, I might fall into a thought pattern that could potentially send me down a critical, anxious, or confused internal loop during a journey.
Cultivating the ability to remain connected to Self, or any of the eight C’swhich characterize this energy, helps me to remain grounded and present within psychedelic space. Much like mindfulness, the goal is to create psychic flexibility, spaciousness, and literacy, so that we might more deeply be able to do “the work” that psychedelics inevitably ask of us.
Every IFS therapy session, like every psychedelic experience, can be worlds apart. Speaking from experiences both as a therapist and client, I am continually blown away by what this therapeutic modality has revealed to me and those I’ve been lucky enough to work with.
Internal Family Systems is not only an effective psychotherapy modality with an extraordinary capacity to heal trauma, demonstrated in a pilot study in which 92% of participants no longer qualified for a PTSD diagnosis, it is also a non-pathologizing, client-directed, and ultimately psycho-spiritual framework for guiding one on the potentially infinite road of inner work.
As every good navigator knows deep down, the map and territory will always remain two very different realms. Yet as far as a set of directions for charting the inner world, and for helping people integrate potentially life-altering psychedelic experiences, Internal Family Systems therapy presents a toolkit which can greatly benefit therapists and facilitators looking for a detailed, multifaceted, and truly psychedelic methodology for exploring the soul.
Nine women of color who are working hard to ensure their communities have access and representation in the psychedelic movement
As interest in psychedelic medicine explodes, it is trailed by conversation about representation and access. From leaders, authors and filmmakers, to researchers and clinical study participants, one simple fact is clear: The psychedelic community is disproportionately white. The recent global focus on racial inequity and social justice has called us all to reflect on our impact and seek out tangible ways to show up for communities of color. Now, this conversation has reached the psychedelic community and called leaders to task. Are we ready to explore why the movement is so homogenous, and to learn from leaders of color who can help us shift and evolve?
While psychedelic press coverage focuses on hand-wringing over the privileged corporate takeover, there is a more hopeful subculture emerging. Around the world there are visionary and collaborative leaders who aren’t waiting for an invitation from the vanguard of psychedelic elites. We spoke with nine women of color who are shaping psychedelic culture at the grassroots level and helping to create more inclusive spaces within the movement for global healing.
Buki Fadipe, Founder Adventures in Om
Buki Fadipe is the founder of Adventures In Om
Buki Fadipe, founder of Adventures In Om, is a transformational guide, artist, and psychedelic practitioner in training based in London, England. Her work focuses on empowering individuals to take part in their own healing and consider all aspects of the self: emotional, physical, environmental, spiritual and psychological. “When we self-heal, we do so for our lineage, community, collective, Mother Earth and all living beings,” Fadipe says.
In the future of psychedelics, Fadipe hopes to see better representation and access.
“Accessibility is a big issue,” she says. “The way the industry is currently heading does not leave much room for focusing on marginalized groups. These medicines are being worked into a psychiatric framework, a system that is already incredibly dismissive of those from lower economic brackets who are often most in need.”
Fadipe’s goal is to positively disrupt the conversation, one which she says overemphasizes the clinical model and dependence on quick fixes, pharmaceutical medicines, and years of ineffective talk therapy.
“This is an emerging field,” she continues. “How can we map its scope without more diverse data coming from a realistic representation of society? I hope that the future will lead us to see more leadership from BIPOC and women who need representation across the industry, from clinical research and decriminalization to harm reduction, education and integration.”
Jenn So, Founder SO Searching Oneself
Jenn So is the founder of SO Searching Oneself
As a femme embodied person from a family of Viet-Khmer immigrant refugees, Jenn So, LCSW and founder of SO Searching Oneself in Washington, USA, is passionate about generational healing. So has worked as a professional social worker for the past 14 years, and her private practice specializes in racial trauma, adverse childhood experiences, and intimate partner violence. She first became intrigued about the healing potential of psychedelics after witnessing firsthand how psilocybin transformed her cousin’s life.
“Psychedelic-assisted therapy could help someone who has experienced trauma return to a specific moment in their memory and know they can be safely walked out of it,” So explains. She emphasizes the importance of trained professionals and safe environments.
“Western life is disconnected from the idea of things being passed down generation to generation. We don’t live with our elders. We don’t have opportunities to be closely involved with their lives and experiences the way traditional cultures do,” So says. She believes we are just beginning to appreciate the way trauma impacts the body and family lineage.
“These medicines are being worked into a psychiatric framework, a system that is already incredibly dismissive of those from lower economic brackets who are often most in need.”
–Buki Fadipe
Is the mental health community ready to take a serious look at the potential of psychedelic medicine? So isn’t sure.
“The stigma around psychedelics is largely because we don’t fully understand them,” she says. “We humans believe that what we know is all there is to know, so new information is met with skepticism and fear. The mental health community isn’t immune to these attitudes.”
So hopes to bridge the conversation and help mental health practitioners better understand psychedelic medicines.
Charlotte James, Co-Founder The Ancestor Project
Charlotte James is a co-founder of The Ancestor Project
When co-founders of The Ancestor Project (formerly The Sabina Project) Charlotte James and Dre Wright met, they connected over their shared experiences in white medicine spaces and the recognition of the need for BIPOC-centered healing environments. They launched The Ancestor Project (TAP) in 2019 with a focus on Baltimore-based events, then shifted online when the pandemic hit.
James outlines some tangible steps the psychedelic community can take to better support Black community members: “We invite White folx to buy our Psychedelic Anti-Racism workbook. To sit in their discomfort as they unravel privilege and find their role in the collective liberation movement.” James continues, “Also, recognize that racism causes trauma, [and so] treat Black and BIPOC folx with the same trauma-informed care you provide others.”
The mantle of leadership is heavy for a woman of color navigating her own healing path while working to further conversations about psychedelics as medicine. James emphasizes how important it is to slow down. “I really try to live my life in ceremony. I have a massive toolbox of practices and technologies that support me: sitting in ceremony, practicing Kemetic yoga with my partner, spending time in nature, dance, meditation, drinking lots of water, and building a healthy, shameless relationship with food. I would say though, when you’re walking in your purpose, the work is less draining–even when it is really intense.”
James shared about TAP’s recent name change, and the importance of modeling accountability:
“We have to walk the walk. We can’t be out here holding White folx accountable to their sh*t and not also reflecting on the ways that we have deeply internalized their ways of being to the point that the system becomes self-replicating. It’s okay to be vulnerable and admit when you have self-reflected and recognized a misstep. I’m grateful for the humans who support us as we do our own liberation work, and to the ancestors, spirit guides, and relatives who are the true geniuses and creators of this work.”
Elan Hagens, Co-Founder Fruiting Bodies Collective
Elan Hagens is a co-founder of the Fruiting Bodies Collective
Elan Hagens is the co-founder of the Fruiting Bodies Collectivein Oregon, USA, which was born out of a need for education, advocacy, and community within the state’s new psilocybin therapy program.
“Just inviting people of color into the scene or making options financially accessible isn’t enough,” Hagens explains. “We need to consider why communities of color aren’t as aware of or interested in psychedelics. We need to understand the history of the War on Drugs and what can happen if we invite people into vulnerable healing spaces and then they return to a world that can be dehumanizing.”
Hagens also explains the need to be mindful of the language we use. “When enthusiastic advocates talk about “magic mushrooms” and “tripping”, we can lose a lot of people due to stigma and cultural connotation. Instead, can we talk about these medicines with respect and in a new way that people from all walks of life can understand and relate to? Healing goes beyond one subculture. We all have hearts and souls and an innate ability to heal in the right conditions.”
“We have to walk the walk. We can’t be out here holding White folx accountable to their sh*t and not also reflecting on the ways that we have deeply internalized their ways of being to the point that the system becomes self-replicating. It’s okay to be vulnerable and admit when you have self-reflected and recognized a misstep.”
–Charlotte James
Ultimately, healing must go beyond the individual. The founders at Fruiting Bodies believe that individual healing and societal change are inseparable. Beyond helping shape Oregon’s program, their mission is to shift the narrative and destigmatize psychedelic medicine through relationship building and storytelling.
*Note: Elan Hagens is co-founders with Rebecca Martinez, who authored this article.
Robin Divine, Founder Black People Trip
Robin Divine is the founder of Black People Trip
Robin Divine is the founder of Black People Trip, an online community with a mission to raise awareness, destigmatize, teach harm reduction, and create safer spaces for Black women in psychedelics.
“There is such a stigma around drug use (as well as therapy) which makes the idea of psychedelic therapy taboo for many Black people,” Divine says. “We need to see the faces and hear the stories of people who look like us in order to begin to break down these outdated ways of thinking.”
Divine explains that Black communities are traumatized. She sees psychedelics as a way for people to take healing into their own hands, down a path to wellness that exists beyond Western medicine.
“I invite white community members to get involved. If you are truly committed to equity in psychedelics, then take action. If you have the resources, then donate money to organizations that are doing the work to create better access in Black communities. I’d also ask them to respect the idea that Black people need their own spaces to heal that don’t involve them. In short: take action, and honor our space.”
Jessika Lagarde & Tian Daphne, Co-Founders Women on Psychedelics
Jessika Lagarde is a co-founder of Women on Psychedelics
Jessika Lagarde and Tian Daphne are the co-founders of Women on Psychedelics (WOOP), which began organically during the COVID-19 lockdown while the two were volunteering for a mushroom-related initiative. “Having ourselves experienced the healing and transformative power of psychedelics, we saw a glaring need to not only normalize the talk around psychedelics, but to specifically work to end the stigmatization around women’s mental health and substance use,” Lagarde explains.
Tian Daphne is a co-founder of Women on Psychedelics
The promising research inspired them to become advocates. But as they dove deeper, they quickly noticed a lack of diversity in the psychedelic space. “Despite having disproportionately higher rates of trauma, people of color and women remain underrepresented in research amongst participants, as well as in underground psychedelic communities and the movement toward decriminalization and legalization,” Lagarde adds.
“Through Women on Psychedelics, we hope to connect women through social, creative, political, and educational content and activities. We truly believe that everyone should have the freedom and ability to access psychedelics for their own healing and growth.”
Mariah Makalapua, Founder the Medicine Collective
Mariah Makalapua is the founder of the Medicine Collective
Mariah Makalapua is a Hawaiian and mixed Native North American artist and mother who is the founder of the Medicine Collective in Oregon, USA. Since 2017, the Medicine Collective has combined art and medicine for the purpose of healing people and the planet. Makalapua’s mission is to provide safe and respectful healing experiences rooted in indigenous traditions.
Makalapua believes respect for indigenous rights and wisdom is an expression of an individual’s healing process. “Trauma healing has to do with diving into your upbringing, your ancestry, and ultimately, decolonizing and clearing your own lineage and understanding where you come from. We all have ancestors. No matter who you are, there is a reality of what colonialism and patriarchy did to your family.”
“We need to consider why communities of color aren’t as aware of or interested in psychedelics. We need to understand the history of the War on Drugs and what can happen if we invite people into vulnerable healing spaces and then they return to a world that can be dehumanizing.”
–Elan Hagens
If people understand these things, she says, we will no longer need to argue about cultural appropriation because we will develop a heart level-understanding of it. “You wouldn’t attend an ayahuasca ceremony and then think a medicine leadership role is yours to take. You just wouldn’t be having that jump. It’s not a healed or whole approach.”
In regards to Oregon’s legal psilocybin therapy program, Makalapua advocates for wisdom, accountability and intentionality.
“Historically, indigenous communities did not exist in a vacuum in their healing. The medicine was part of the larger culture and there was a collective consciousness around it. They understood: This work is terrifying, necessary, and we must go to the right people. But this collectivism has been lost from modern culture. We need support in watering the seeds planted during ceremony. It is deep, inner, relational work: making changes, making boundaries. It requires friendship, community, and at least a few close people who can support and guide you through that change.”
“The mushrooms are going to be mushrooms no matter what we do,” Makalapua continues. “I want to protect their sacredness. It’s like protecting your grandmother. You know she’s strong and a badass, but you’re not going to let her go and do something dangerous. It’s the same with the mushrooms; we should respect them, love them, and help carry their groceries, so to speak.”
Hanifa Nayo Washington, Founder One Village Healing
Hanifa Nayo Washington is the founder of One Village Healing Photo credit: Rachel Liu
Hanifa Nayo Washington is an award winning cultural artivist and sacred activist combining arts, healing, and activism for the last 20+ years. Based in Connecticut, USA, Washington is the founder and principal organizer of One Village Healing, cultivator of beloved community at the Fireside Project, director of community engagement for CEIO, and a founding member of several emerging psychedelic initiatives, including the Equity in Psychedelic Therapy Initiative.
In 2017 she released her third album, Mantras for the Revolution. In December 2018 Washington received a Phenomenal Women Arts Award from the Arts Council of Greater New Haven for her contributions and achievements in the arts. She is currently working on a storytelling project called Growing Wilder, which is expected in 2022.
Washington explains how her own healing experiences led her to the intersection of psychedelic medicines and social transformation:
“Going into ceremony and creating sacred spaces…helped me deconstruct the poisons of internalized systems of oppression. These allies, these plant medicines, have helped me to unhook these things from my body and mindset, and allow me to be in deeper relationship with myself and others in ways that are not poisoned,” she says.
What makes Washington’s leadership stand out is both her joy and her specificity. One vision many emerging leaders share within the psychedelic space is inclusion. Washington carries a torch into the unknown and helps to illuminate the “how” by shaping practical models with which to realize this shared vision. Equity and access are more than buzzwords at One Village Healing–they are the pillars that form the very structure and breath of the organization, which currently provides seven online wellness sessions for free to the community.
“Historically, indigenous communities did not exist in a vacuum in their healing. The medicine was part of the larger culture and there was a collective consciousness around it. They understood: This work is terrifying, necessary, and we must go to the right people.”
–Mariah Makalapua
The immense value of Fireside Project’s Psychedelic Peer Support Line is multiplied by their attention to “providing compassionate, accessible, and culturally responsive peer support, educating the public, and furthering psychedelic research, while embracing practices that increase equity, power sharing, and belonging within the psychedelic movement,” Washington says.
In order to create safer spaces and experiences for marginalized communities, Washington suggests a few practical steps:
Normalize and furthermore, require, inner work as a fundamental part of all psychedelic organizations, businesses, and institutions. “That means creating space and time within the work schedule for individual and collective learning, to practice and imagine ways of being that support healing from the trauma of oppressive systems.”
Within this process, trust and invest in affinity integration spaces.
Listen to, fund, and invest in individuals, businesses, projects, and initiatives led by people who have been impacted the most by systems of oppression.
“Without representation in leadership,” she says, “I’m pretty convinced that these aforementioned aspects will not happen.”
Conclusion
The common threads that come through these interviews help weave together a larger story. It’s a vision for global healing that doesn’t stop at getting over depression or healing family trauma. It’s a call to recognize our interconnectedness with one another and the Earth, and to commit to the work which enables psychedelic insights to transform us into more engaged, justice-focused citizens. Because of their intersectional identities, women of color offer the presence, leadership and perspective which are essential to the integrity of the psychedelics movement. We have endless opportunities to lift them up and learn from them as we grow and heal together in the years to come. Let’s begin today.
About the Author
Rebecca Martinez is a Portland, Oregon-based writer, parent and community organizer. She is a co-founder of the Fruiting Bodies Collective, an advocacy group, podcast and multimedia platform exploring the intersections between healing justice and the psychedelics movement.
The week I am writing this, author and psychedelic philanthropist Tim Ferriss poised a very direct question (via Twitter) to the public and various leaders in the psychedelic community, including Michael Pollan, Rick Doblin, and Robin Carhart-Harris.
Ferriss asked about how best to navigate the apparent “patent land grab” occurring behind the scenes within various private companies, many of which have received millions of dollars in investment capital and stock valuation.
This was in no doubt a response to the bizarre move by the British psychedelic startup Compass Pathways to patent, according to a recent VICE article, “the basic components of psychedelic therapy,” including the use of “soft furniture and holding hands.”
The internet being what it is, Christian Angermayer, a venture capitalist representing both Compass Pathways and a biotechnology company called ATAI Life Sciences, chimed in. Downplaying Ferriss’ philanthropy efforts and deeming his concerns as “wrong,” Angermayer defended the business strategies that Ferriss, along with many other leaders in the psychedelic community, called into question.
We are in the midst of a psychedelic gold rush. This comprehensive article from VICE addresses the nauseating pace at which psychedelic patents are springing up, including everything from psilocybin-infused cannabis to Phillip Morris e-cigarettes containing DMT and patents for psychedelic treatment of food allergies.
As if our world wasn’t getting strange enough.
If the $1 billion initial public offering (IPO) of Compass Pathways tells us anything, it is that we are well into witnessing the birth of an unwieldy and unpredictable psychedelic capitalism–a phrase which would likely compel the Huxleys, Hoffmans, and McKennas of the world to roll over in their infinite cosmic graves.
With multiple decriminalization measures passing this past year across the US, along with Measure 109 in Oregon that will allow the therapeutic use of psilocybin, the trip train is moving fast.
This news is worth celebrating. Personally, I am overjoyed, especially due to the fact that psychedelics played a central role in why I became a psychotherapist. Yet at this very moment, the future of psychedelic medicines is being bought and sold through high-level investment pitches delivered in sleek board rooms across San Francisco, London, and beyond.
Along with it is the potential for equitable and affordable access to psychedelic treatment for millions of people desperately seeking their healing effects–the very same people these companies claim to want to “help.” Forgive me for being skeptical.
Because here’s the thing we all must keep in mind as we trudge along into this wild new century:
Psychedelic Capitalism Doesn’t Exist.
There are psychedelic substances, experiences, music, art, and literature. There are psychedelic philosophies, ethics, worldviews, and sub-cultural communities. And there is psychedelic healing, treatment, and indigenous traditions. Psychedelics dissolve boundaries and reveal the soul, as the Greek definition of the word indicates (psyche– soul, delos – to reveal).
And then there is capitalism: an economic system controlled by private corporations based on infinite growth, resource extraction, consumption, and the bottom line of financial profit. Capitalism engulfs, confines, and extracts the soul from what it consumes.
Like “military intelligence” or the “music business,” the two words create a philosophical conundrum. We are currently witnessing how these paradoxical concepts will mesh in the here and now. The balance will undoubtedly be precarious.
In the heart-wrenching internet comic,We Will Call it Pala, artist Dave McGaughey tells the story about one woman’s vision to start a psychedelic healing clinic colliding with the hyper-optimized ethos of Silicon Valley and the cold-blooded demands of her venture capital investors.
As the story progresses along its all-too-likely trajectory, she faces the monstrosity she has unwittingly created. Grieving for her seemingly naive vision, the heroine laments, “There is no medicine strong enough to blow a corporation’s mind.”
This is because, despite their legal standing in our society, corporations are not conscious beings. By definition, a corporation will never have a mind-altering or heart-opening experience. And though the etymological roots of the word inevitably boils down to “body,” a corporation will never feel a thing.
Art may be one of the best arenas where we might be able to predict how the weird, alchemical vinegar of psychedelics will merge into the oil-laden waters of capitalism.
It is said that art can serve either as a hammer or a mirror for society. Even once a great work has been absorbed by the market–a Banksy or a John Cage or a Van Gogh–the impact of that work can still continue to resonate within the psyche and catalyze an imaginal or inner shift, no matter how many coffee mugs it’s been plastered onto.
Art is able to, at least partially, escape the trap of capitalism because it exists between two realms.
Art takes a form in our physical, time-bound reality, but also lives within the imagination, and is formless. Art can embody and transmit ideas, imparting rare messages that transcend the tangible and time-bound. Art changes culture. Art evokes emotion, even if we’ve seen the same image a thousand times. Art can shock, uplift, or crush us. Art is dangerous.
The Art of the Trick
Lewis Hyde, in his book Trickster Makes This World, argues that artists have evolved to become the mythological trickster figures within our modern culture, previously relegated to ritual and story.
Charting the work of figures as diverse as Marcel Duchamp, Bob Dylan and Frederick Douglass, Hyde explores the very nature of the words “art” and “artist,” tracing their etymological origins back to the Latin “artus,” which means joint, or juncture.
As Hyde playfully elaborates, the “artus-workers” of our modern era now play the role that Hermes, Raven, and Coyote played in their own cultural mythologies, as gods of the threshold, the trick, the lie, and the oft-misunderstood bearer of culture.
These were celebrated beings who, often unwittingly, upset the established and most likely stale cosmic order, and introduced a bit of divine chaos, thereby creating a new cosmic law, sacred technology, or a new world entirely.
Despite their humble or comedic natures, tricksters, like psychedelics, are not to be taken lightly.
Take the Greek myth of Hermes that Hyde uses as an example in his book. Hermes, through stealing and then slaughtering the golden cattle of his brother Apollo, performed the first sacrificial offering to himself and made himself a god. He clearly made a fool of his brother, who had a thing for fancy board rooms in the sky. The other Olympians thought it was hilarious and let Hermes stay.
Another example, Coyote, comes from Native American tradition, as told in the 1984 book, American Indian Myths and Legends. In thousands of tales told across many languages, Coyote creates the world, teaches hunting and tracking, or travels to the land of the dead, amongst other adventures. Up north, Raven brings fire to humans, invents the fish trap, and perfects the art of theft. He also travels between the earthly and heavenly realms, bringing messages across the divide.
Eshu and Legba, trickster gods from West Africa and the Carribean, are invoked before all other gods, for it is understood that every act of divine communication and exchange must pass through their hands. According to Hyde’s book, even though Eshu and Legba are not the most powerful beings in the Afro-Carribean pantheon, these lords of the crossroads are feared above all others because of their pivotal cosmic position. And you never know what you are going to get.
Even the Loki, dark trickster of the Norse pantheon, sets into motion events which would result in the destruction of the very gods themselves–Ragnarok. But what is often forgotten is that Ragnarok is not just about the fiery end of all things. It is also the beginning of the new world, all of which was put into motion because Loki couldn’t help but push a few buttons up in Asgard.
Come to think of it, trickster myths seem to have a lot in common with the role that psychedelics play within the psyche and the brain. Stay with me here.
Neurology and New Worlds
Neuroscientist and psychedelic researcher Robin Carhart-Harris’ landmark 2014 article, The Entropic Brain, highlighted the ways in which psilocybin decreases blood flow to an area of the brain called the default mode network (DMN), enabling novel connections to be made between neural pathways that are normally routed through this cognitive superhighway.
Psychedelics upset the applecart of our normal cognitive functioning, and by introducing a bit of pharmacologically mediated chaos, make room for new and different neural connections to take shape.
Of additional interest here is Carhart-Harris’ discussion of psychedelic states being “poised at a ‘critical’ point in a transition zone between order and disorder” in terms of consciousness. The place between two places, often called the liminal, plainly invokes the many trickster gods we have been speaking of, for all dwell on this same precipice, and can be found anywhere that roads, worlds, and perhaps even neural networks, collide.
Even the many studies showing the promise of psychedelics to treat addictions can be seen in the light of trickster myths (e.g. de L. Osório, et.al, 2015, and Hamill et.al, 2019). Whatever epiphany is granted during the psychedelic experience that might finally help someone kick a long-held, potentially lethal habit, marks a shift from one world to another, mythologically speaking.
True recovery marks an end and a beginning. Such an epiphany, especially in the language of Alcoholics Anonymous, is seen as a message from a higher power, which the Greeks and the Yoruba knew was always mediated by the trickster.
Lastly, let’s not forget the reason why psychedelics were made illegal in the first place. As Terance McKenna famously said, “Psychedelics are illegal not because a loving government is concerned that you may jump out of a third story window. Psychedelics are illegal because they dissolve opinion structures and culturally laid down models of behaviour and information processing. They open you up to the possibility that everything you know is wrong.”
Just like art, psychedelics have the potential to change culture, and can be dangerous to the established order of things. The 1960’s and 70’s proved that with a spectacular flair. It is not difficult to imagine why Nixon deemed Timothy Leary “the most dangerous man in America” at the onset of the drug war.
The simple fact that a naturally occurring plant or fungus could impart such soul-revealing visions may even be “the best kept secret in history,” according to Brian Muraresku in his revelatory book, The Immortality Key. Who needs priests to talk to god when you can do it yourself with the help of a plant? But that’s a story for another time.
Even if these awe-inspiring revelations are “occasioned” (to use the words of psychedelic researcher Roland Griffiths) through a psychopharmacological trick of serotonin agonists, if the above mythologies teach us anything, it is that sometimes a trick is exactly what’s needed for real transformation to occur.
Standing at the Crossroads
Psychotherapy, it has often been said, is both an art and a science. And now as psychedelics firmly make their way into the field, it may require those facilitating this work to embrace the deeper dimensions of what such a sentiment actually implies.
Perhaps the evolving art of the psychedelic therapist or facilitator will be to more deeply embrace the fact that these medicines are as unpredictable as the tricksters we’ve just met, and that their true implications for both individuals and culture lay far beyond simply feeling better and having a nicer day at the office.
To believe that psychedelics can be confined to the clinic, the lab, or the corporate body not only ignores the volatile history of these compounds in the 20th century, it ignores the fact that the very function of these substances is to dissolve boundaries and dismantle familiar, long-held structures on neurological, psychological, and cultural levels.
To bring this all to a close, and to end where we began in true trickster fashion, it seems that Hermes has one last ace up his sleeve. Not only was he the divine messenger, bringer of dreams, guide of souls, and lord of the crossroads, Hermes was also the god of the marketplace. Any time money is exchanged, Hermes is said to be there. The true “free market” is imbued with the spirit of Hermes, and involves much more than the simple exchange of currency and intellectual property rights sold to the highest bidder.
Emerging philosophies, religions from far off lands, rumors of wars, and village gossip were all exchanged in the markets of old. They were places of excitement, cross-pollination, unpredictability, and community–things I think we could all use a bit more of these days.
There’s one last thing. It was said that one could ask for Hermes’ help by leaving an offering at his shrine, located at the heart of the market, covering one’s ears, and walking away. The first thing you heard when you opened your ears was Hermes speaking to you. The fine print is that one had to be firmly outside the hustle and bustle of the market before listening for the winged messenger’s reply. I believe the modern term for uncovering one’s ears too soon is called an “echo chamber,” and we all know how helpful those can be.
What does this mean for our purposes here? I haven’t the slightest idea. Only that the god of the marketplace requires us to maintain a certain distance from his domain to be clearly heard. Just because Hermes rules the marketplace doesn’t mean he lives there.
So just like where we find ourselves today, peering over the precipice of this new psychedelic capitalism, there’s no map for where we must go before listening for Hermes’ synchronistic response. Go far enough out and we might encounter the language of owls, moonlight, and whoever else prowls those liminal wilds. Stay too close, and we risk repeating just more of the same.
And if we get lost, and find ourselves back at the crossroads where we first began, perhaps that is the message we were needing all along. Because ultimately, the joke’s on us.
About the Author
With a masters (MA) in depth counseling psychology from Pacifica Graduate Institute, Simon Yugler is a depth and psychedelic integration therapist based in Portland, OR. Weaving Jungian psychology, Internal Family Systems therapy, and mythology, Simon also draws on his diverse experiences learning from indigenous cultures around the world, including the Shipibo ayahuasca tradition. He has a background in experiential education, and has led immersive international journeys for young adults across 10 countries. He is passionate about initiation, men’s work, indigenous rights, decolonization, and helping his clients explore the liminal wilds of the soul. Find out more on his website and on Instagram , Twitter (@depth_medicine) or Facebook.
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