A Community Journey
Using psychedelics for spiritual enlightenment and emotional healing has a long history among human beings. The practice is tied to rituals designed to open our hearts to the whole, to bind our souls to the holy. Cultures of old understood that we and the earth are one. We are not something set apart, not the pinnacle of some creative scheme devised by a humanoid deity. Along with the whale, the cockroach, the rose, the coronavirus, the sea anemone, the many kinds of mosquitoes, we are one of life’s creatures. Together, we are bound, flying through this universe that is sacred and eternally old.
When our minds open up to new ways of seeing, we can sometimes touch that place of transformative wisdom. Meditation and prayer can bring us there, though it generally takes decades of dedication to become so insightful. Even the use of substances to induce visions of reality that some insist are more real than the Newtonian world we inhabit, is done, in the best of all possible worlds, with preparation and guidance.
In a research study of individuals who tried psilocybin-assisted therapy, 71% of the participants reported that their trip had been one of the five most spiritual experiences of their lives. [1] But these individuals did not take the substance alone. They were guided by trained facilitators. As Celina De Leon said in the webinar, “What Chaplains Should Know about Psychedelic Medicines,” “They are spiritual medicines; . . . they are not individual medicines.” They work best when used in community and taken for a sacred purpose, such as connecting us to the spirit and to the earth. [2]
The Downside of Psychedelic Therapies
Some people are excited about using psychedelics. There’s evidence that psilocybin can help cure addiction, post-traumatic stress syndrome, depression, anorexia, and other complaints. The drug is challenging to research, though, for the effect is not exactly quantifiable, and it’s hard to come up with an effective placebo. Additionally, it’s hard to know how much of the change participants report has to do with the skill of the practitioner who assists them instead of the usefulness of the drug. [3]
Regardless of how powerful these new therapies might be, there’s a danger that, in our enthusiasm, we will diminish the value of the mushroom itself and of the cultures that developed a cycle of myth and ritual to honor what could be seen as a gift from the gods. By removing the soul of the plant and the practice that surrounds it, are we turning mushrooms into one more sterile medication? Could that cause problems of its own?
Some people who take the drug do not come out of their altered state. That’s why anyone with a family history of psychotic disorders is excluded from taking part in the research studies. But what if, instead of administering the drug in controlled settings, we required months of preparation, years of bonding in a community that understood the power of these chemicals that open our hearts and our minds? Would there be fewer breaks, as opposed to breakthroughs? Or have there always been some who got lost in the alternate reality?
Our Lust for Profit
Profit is another motive in this renaissance of interest in psychedelics. Businesses are already earning money as they guide people on transformational journeys. Researchers earn degrees and grants with their studies.
Of course, some industries may feel threatened by the drug’s use, so we’re likely to see resistance to this psychedelic trend. After all, if psilocybin can cure intractable depression, we won’t need electroshock therapy, and if PTSD could be resolved in five guided trips, therapists would no longer need to see such patients for years.
The tension between effectiveness and profit in the healing arts is nothing new. If, for instance, a skilled chiropractor can resolve back pain with a few deft visits, and especially if she teaches her clients to take care of themselves in the future, how will she earn enough to pay her bills? She needs repeat business. In a capitalist society, altruism must be tempered by the need to make a living.
Not that socialist or communist countries are immune to such problems. No matter where we live, we are human, and every human society has devised a system of exchange. In some, it is barter; in others, a loose record of debt helps us balance how much we give with how much we receive. When money is not the medium of exchange, we can more willingly offer healing for healing’s sake.
In most of the modern world, however, we use money. That means that some become rich, while others become poor. Whoever first thinks to sell a thing or service or idea, especially one that feeds the addictive lusts of consumers, can make a fortune. Everything is a commodity. We seek gain by selling quick cures for heartache or warts or stomach flab. We even sell spiritual enrichment.
Who Decides?
That doesn’t make the use of psilocybin bad. The drug has great potential, not only to heal individuals, but also to change society.
This doesn’t always happen, of course. Some participants have insipid experiences that do little to transform them. Others feel enlightened, but their wisdom may be of debatable value. Take the young man described in an opinion column by Michelle Goldberg. Wanting to find his purpose in life, he took some mushrooms. On his psychedelic journey, he saw the Freedom Convoy, a line of trucks disrupting the life and commerce of the Canadian capital as a protest against Covid restrictions. He decided he was meant to be there. His children were suffering from pandemic restrictions. He wanted them to live mask-free so they could, once again, see people smile. [4]
I think we can all relate to his longing for a return to what once was. Our battle against this virus that both kills and disables has been imperfect and painful. Besides, freedom is a noble cause. It is also complicated. Freedom for some is tyranny for others, and freedoms come with responsibilities. Was this young man’s vision worthy? Who can say?
Such questions highlight the challenge we have in judging the value of using mushrooms in therapy. What constitutes success? Can the person alone decide, or ought the community to have some say in this assessment?
Understanding Oneness
In ancient societies, when individuals took their journeys, guides assisted them during their trip and debriefed them afterwards. The community had a stake in their learning, and the individuals integrated their vision into the life of their village. If a psychedelic trip enhances our sense of oneness and connection, it can bring us closer to our neighbors. Wouldn’t it be nice if, during their trip, people received visions and insights that encouraged them to treat others with kindness and tread gently on the earth, our home?
But not everyone believes that oneness is at the core of life and death and the sacred. In fact, it goes against much of Western thought. This belief, however, is not new. It exists in the histories of tribal cultures, in the modern-day resurrecting of ancient traditions, and in the stories handed down by ancestors. In more modern times, we find this worldview in feminist and liberation theologies, as well as in the writings of anti-racist activists and quantum scientists.
From them, there is no pinnacle, no top nor bottom. The center is not more important than the edges. If we humans die out, something will arise to take our place, and something after that, until the earth shatters in an explosion of fire, and life as we know it on this world will merge with the cosmos. What matters is not the form of matter, nor even the fact that life exists. What matters is the sacred that infuses it all.
The Wisdom Lies in Our Own Minds
If psilocybin helps us rediscover such a sacred story, more power to it. I am leery, though, of trendy enthusiasms and miracle cures. We generally want something for nothing. In our Western world, we have been seeking enlightenment through five-minute meditation practices, chemical medications, special prayers, and spiritual retreats. So far, we have failed.
Yet who am I to say true transformation cannot come in a pill? Who am I to deny what people report about their journeys?
At the same time, though, as Michael Pollan reminds us in his book about psychedelics, How to Change Your Mind, the revelations that occur during a trip don’t come from the chemical itself. They arise out of our own minds. [5] Thus, if our minds are closed to change, if we are unprepared for soul-shattering images, we will either disintegrate in the face of visions we cannot begin to comprehend, or slough them off as another superficial New Age adventure. On the other hand, if our minds are receptive, we can still only learn what, on some level, we already know.
Even if we have the sense of self and understanding of our own story that allows our psychedelic experience to crack us open, and even if that insight is wildly expansive and deeply significant, we still have to integrate it into our entire being before we can find an inner wholeness. [6] Such integration can take years. Some of us spend the rest of our lives making sense of a momentous spiritual experience. Psilocybin is not necessarily a quick fix.
Wisdom Comes from Within
But it may be a fix of sorts. After all, does it matter how we heal? If a few journeys into the psychedelic realm will resolve conditions that cause pain and suffering, why not? Not everyone is suited to long and arduous spiritual practices.
Still, I wonder. If we divorce drugs from their sacred trappings, will they be as effective at inviting peace and encouraging wisdom as psychedelics were in the past? Assuming we do make changes as powerful as ever, how long will they last?
But again, the pill doesn’t bring us wisdom; our minds do. The benefit is unlikely to be equal for everyone. Studies may be skewed because those who take part are those who want to. They’re eager for transformation. Perhaps it’s the type of people in the studies that makes the psilocybin effective, not the chemical itself.
The Sacred Journey
We are who we are. Out of our genetics and our experiences, we are formed. Because of this, we actually have very little free will. Taking an assisted journey through the realm of the psychedelic might shake things up inside us enough that we will take a path we wouldn’t have considered before. We might become someone new. It’s likely, though, that we will simply become more of who we are at our core. Not a bad thing, but not the salvation some of us want to believe in.
While psilocybin holds the promise of individual growth and freedom, as well as a promise of a return to a worldview that honors the earth and our place in it, if we don’t already believe in the reality of oneness and the need to treat everything as sacred, will the mushrooms teach us these lessons? Probably not.
It’s tempting to believe in a magic pill. The likelihood, however, is that if we want to become as one transformed, if we want to heal ourselves and our planet, we will still need the slow slog of listening, loving, inviting, and forgiving. We will still need silence and kindness and grace. There is no shortcut to salvation. There is only the sacred journey, and that takes a lifetime and more.
But before we start on that journey, which begins with a single step, we will probably need to experience something momentous. If that something is a guided excursion into the psychedelic realm of psilocybin, so be it. There are worse ways to begin.
In faith and fondness,
Barbara
Credits
- Anderson, Brian, Celina De Leon, “What Chaplains Should Know about Psychedelic Medicines,” Chaplaincy Innovation, February 4, 2022.
- Ibid.
- See, for example, Tullis, Paul, “How Ecstasy and Psilocybin Are Shaking Up Psychiatry,” Nature, January 27, 2021, https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-021-00187-9, accessed February 19, 2022.
- Goldberg, Michelle, “The Giddy, Terrifying Siege of Ottawa,” The New York Times, February 19, 2022, A21.
- Pollan, Michael, How to Change Your Mind, New York: Penguin Press, 2018, 406.
- Ibid 402.
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Copyright © 2022 Barbara E. Stevens. All Rights Reserved.