Disclaimer: I am not a medical doctor. I don’t recommend that people take any of the substances discussed in this post unless they have spent considerable time studying their use and effects, thought carefully about their mindset and intention for using them, prepared appropriately, and sought out guidance from experts. Even then, there are certain people who should simply avoid psychedelics altogether, such individuals who are schizophrenic. In other words, do not take the words and reports in this post to suggest that you should take psychedelics; do your own research to determine whether or not they are right for you. These drugs are incredibly powerful and while they can produce positive experiences and insights, they can also have negative effects when consumed irresponsibly, and sometimes even when used responsibly. They must be respected and treated with reverence. By all means, I encourage you to investigate further to learn whether or not you might want to experiment with them, but proceed with caution.
Purdue University. Johns Hopkins. Harvard. Stanford. Yale. New York University. UC San Diego. University of Pennsylvania. University of Alabama. University of Minnesota. University of Bristol. King’s College London. Utrecht University. Imperial College London. Columbia University Medical Center. University of Toronto. US Department of Veterans Affairs.
Before I begin this post, I thought it might be helpful to note some of the well-respected institutions that are studying psychedelics. Despite being listed in the United States as a Schedule 1 drug—thereby classified as a substance with no medical use whatsoever—we are finally seeing a renaissance of research on the therapeutic potential of psychedelics after decades of prohibition. Most of us have been conditioned for a lifetime to think that psychedelics are simply mind-bending party drugs that make you hallucinate, but that is far from the truth.
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I recently read The Psychedelic Explorer’s Guide by Dr. James Fadiman. Written by a seasoned expert with a deep history in the space, it contains a wealth of useful information for those considering exploring psychedelics, and I recommend it. To my surprise, I noticed a praise quote from Jack Kornfield, a Buddhist scholar and teacher who heads up Spirit Rock Meditation Center. I participated in my first silent retreat at Spirit Rock roughly three years ago, and that experience fueled my current education on and integration of mindfulness—a concept that has stuck with me to the point that I’m now teaching it via a class featured in the menu of this blog. I did some digging and found that he has openly advocated for the responsible use of psychedelics in other places as well.
In his book Bringing Home the Dharma: Awakening Right Where You Are, Kornfield writes:
“So, yes, LSD, mushrooms, Ecstasy, or ayahuasca can bring healing and can grant us access to visionary and mystical realms, realms of tremendous, transcendent understanding. They can bring a perception of unity, the reality of our connection with everything. Any methods that open the heart in this way and show us that we are not separate, that touch the realms of universal loving, kindness, and compassion, can be valuable. But you need to be careful. For some people the judicious use of these substances can open the mind and reveal how consciousness creates the world, that physical reality is created out of consciousness and not the opposite. For other people these drugs are a danger, particularly if one has a history of substance abuse or a family history of drug or alcohol addiction.
Hallucinogens are powerful medicine, enormously compelling for some people as an initial opening. At later stages you may be called to use them again wisely, but always with the constraints of virtue and care. They can be easily abused if one is not careful.” [Jon’s note: In this context, the term hallucinogen is being used interchangeably with the term psychedelic.]
It’s interesting to me that Kornfield calls out a history of substance abuse as a reason not to consider using psychedelics. In my experience, and based on what I’ve read, psychedelics can actually help those who suffer from addictions, in that it can open people’s minds in a way that facilitates understanding the reasons and compulsions behind their addictions, ultimately lessening or eliminating dependence as a result. Or, as much better articulated in a 2013 talk by Dr. Bill Richards, a leading researcher on psychedelics since the 60s, “Especially in the case of alcoholics and narcotics addicts treated with psychedelic psychotherapy, this trajectory [Jon’s note: referring to those who have a transcendent experience on psychedelics early on in therapy] works especially well, because with the enhancement and strengthening of their self-concepts, nurtured by memories of transcendental forms of consciousness, it becomes easier for them to explore areas of personal failure, without undue loss of self-worth.” That said, the benefits of using psychedelics are certainly constricted by the user’s knowledge about how to use them and how to interpret their experience, so perhaps the warning refers to those who have not appropriately prepared. And additionally, as with anything, those with addictive personalities have some potential to end up abusing psychedelics—though due to the significance of each experience, and the need to clear your schedule and allow time before and after, psychedelics strike me as substances that are far less likely to result in addiction, at least when compared to alcohol or even marijuana (which may not by physiologically addicting, but which, especially due to its relative harmlessness, may become habit forming). In any case, personally, I always want a great deal of space between psychedelic sessions, to the tune of months or years rather than hours or days.
After seeing that quote, I decided to explore the Buddhist connection further. I ordered a book called Zig Zag Zen which I look forward to reading. More pertinent to this post, I found an article by Matteo Pistono that discusses some of the views of Buddhist teachers who support the respectful use of psychedelics as a catalyst for growth, for seeing the world as it is and breaking free from the collection of associations and conditioning that often defines our lives. I recommend the article for anyone with an interest in either the modern views of the connection between psychedelics and Buddhism, or really, for anyone interested in the growth potential of psychedelics. Interestingly, it contains another brief mention of Kornfield’s stance:
“Insight Meditation teacher Jack Kornfield, speaking last year at a Spirit Rock conference titled “At the Intersection: Psychedelics and the Buddhist Path,” opined that the new generation of Western Buddhist teachers is ‘on the cusp of something revolutionary.’
‘But,’ Kornfield cautioned, ‘it has to be done carefully and with the boundaries that the Buddha offered regarding ethics—not to harm yourself and not to harm others.’”
With this last statement, Kornfield likely references the fifth precept of Buddhism, which is that one should refrain from intoxicants that can lead to heedlessness (in other words, intoxicants that can lead to breaking one of the other four precepts, which are basically to refrain from killing, stealing, speaking falsely, and sexual misconduct). This precept has been somewhat open to interpretation because of the final clause “that can lead to heedlessness” as people debate whether or not that means that some intoxicants can be used carefully and in moderation so long as you do no harm to yourself or others. Some also debate whether a substance like psilocybe cubensis (psychedelic mushrooms) actually qualifies as an intoxicant since it helps you see the “real” world, though that argument is less persuasive to me.
Reading about Kornfield’s (and other Buddhist scholars) endorsement was quite a revelation for me! I mean, it’s not surprising, in that I see strong connections between Buddhism and the insights that I’ve experienced while (and after) tripping. But hearing such a prominent spiritual voice speak positively and openly about psychedelics gave my suspicions newfound legitimacy. As I contemplated writing this post, which was initially going to simply discuss my views on the growing use of psychedelics in scientific research as a reputable way to experience inner growth, reduce/eliminate the fear of dying, and treat various psychological conditions, these endorsements motivated me to instead relay a snapshot of my own personal experience with these substances. Not just to journal out loud, although there is surely some cathartic value to that, but in order to help explain the influence that psychedelics have had over my life, and how I hold them in my current worldview alongside my meditation and mindfulness practices. This will help contextualize my own positive opinions about the potential of psychedelics, opinions which have been further strengthened by the supporting discourse from Kornfield and other Buddhist teachers, but which originated from my own personal experience.
That, and everyone enjoys a good story, right? Speaking of good stories, you can read my “On Addiction” post for a tale about my history with a different drug, alcohol.
The Beginning
I first used psychedelics in my mid-teens, starting out with LSD and psilocybe cubensis. In the beginning I used them as a new way to get fucked up, because reasons. But I quickly saw that they were so much more than just an intoxicant, that there was something other-worldly about them. At the time I was depressed and used a lot of drugs as a coping mechanism, whatever I could get my hands on and afford—from OTC products like Nodoz and Robitussin Cold and Cough to alcohol (at the time, unavailable OTC for me due to my age), Adderall, opium, and of course marijuana (in countless forms—flower, kief, hash, tincture, butter, pipes/bongs/vapes). And that’s to say nothing of the other things I tried to get high off of…remember nutmeg, anyone? Spoiler: It’s not worth it. Thankfully I couldn’t fathom affording cocaine or heroin, and I had enough wherewithal to avoid crack. But even with my cornucopia of drug use in those days, once I started experimenting with psychedelics, well, it was obvious to me that they were different.
My first few experiences weren’t particularly remarkable, because a) I didn’t realize/appreciate what I was using, b) I hung around friends who took a recreational approach, and c) I used very small doses. In smaller doses, without guidance, it is easier to just view the experience as one where you laugh a lot, uncontrollably at times, and see cool trippy hallucinations. Also I was always around a small circle of friends, so I always had company—company which, while in some contexts might provide support, might also be viewed as distractions to fully embracing the experience. It wasn’t until I went to a cabin with friends and took a moderate dose of mushrooms that I experienced my first revelations from psychedelics, and came to appreciate their transformative potential. I say potential because, again, without guidance, it can be hard to interpret and understand what you’ve just experienced. And it can be confusing to know what to do with it moving forward—what happened last night? Was that real? What did it mean? Without context, and without a way of understanding and thinking about what occurred, it’s easy to simply view your experience as just another drug moment. After all, at that point, that’s all you know!
During that fateful cabin trip, I took mushrooms with a small circle of friends somewhere between 4-5pm. The cabin was owned by one of my friends, and it was located on a lake, complete with a lovely and fairly secluded beach. It was a pretty amazing setup, to be clear. Now my trip was far from perfect; one of our friends became paranoid and despondent fairly early on in the trip, and the rest of us had to comfort and console them to a place of security. Thankfully we were able to do so, but it was a bit of a rattling experience, one that might have shook me up even when sober, but that while tripping, felt like a whole_other_level. After things had calmed down, I left the security of the cabin to seek some space to myself, and headed down to the beach area. It was a warm night, so I didn’t have to worry about the shivers, something I frequently experience on psychedelics (I naturally do not have great circulation and often struggle with feeling cold, and like many feelings, this tends to be exacerbated while on psychedelics—one of the reasons I prefer to trip during the day, in nature, in sun, whenever possible). As I settled down by the lake, I had my very first moments of insight, likely of my entire life.
As I had always previously been surrounded by other friends while using psychedelics, I had never given my mind the freedom to explore unencumbered by the presence and actions of people around me. This was the first time where I was able to quietly surrender. It was like the chains of my mind were broken, and instead of being trapped by the confines of a physical reality and all of the social conventions that came with it, I was free to fly. On that beach I experienced a feeling of oneness with the universe, the likes of which I’d assumed were confined only to those who had spent a lifetime purifying their mind through meditation and deep contemplation. I came to recognize the deep connections we all share—I thought in terms of the collective “we” rather than the self-absorbed “I”—the interreliance on each other, the interplay between all living beings and all living plants and mother earth and whatever lies beyond understanding. The knowledge, the knowing, that we were all in this together. That every fight or conflict we had with “others” were really actions that hurt ourselves, that each wound I might inflict on others in turn flecked off a piece of “my” humanity, my existence, my oneness with the world. The deep, warming, embracing contentment of just knowing, being. It was a happiness I had never experienced, one that must be contained within me, and within all of us, but which we are unable or unwilling to access.
I can attempt to communicate these feelings in words, but they fail to convey the truth of it. Suffice to say that my first true psychedelic exploration experience affected me in ways so vast that I cannot understate them. The day after, I had to return to my home, my normal life, and I even had to go to work—something I highly recommend avoiding the day after a voyage, if you can allow for the space—selling, believe it or not, vacuum cleaners. I’ve done a *lot* of menial and unskilled jobs in my life, but this one was something else. As I tried to convince a client to purchase a $2000 Kirby vacuum cleaner they didn’t need, I found myself regularly thinking to myself what in the heck I was doing with my life throughout the appointment. I had only worked the job for a month, but it was so clearly sleazy, so clearly predatory, so clearly dishonest. We were taught a laundry list of ways to trick our clients, from dropping the pen into their hands when handing them a clipboard to having a fake phone call in which we lamented how close we were to a special vacation bonus, if we could only make one more sale by the end of the day. On top of that, the “leads” they’d give us would be poor households with children running around the house and cracks in their walls, essentially asking us to take the uneducated poor for all they were worth and convince them to buy a ridiculously extravagant vacuum. As I went through the motions and completed my pitch, I knew I just couldn’t do it anymore. I quit the next day. I don’t think the totality of my previous day’s psychedelic experience fully registered at that point, as again I just didn’t have any guidance back in those days, but in the coming weeks, months, and years, that recognition of universality, of the connection between all life, helped drive my career. It directed me to a path where I simply *had* to work in a profession helping others, helping animals, helping the planet…helping something. I could never blindly chase riches or power, doing so was no longer a viable path in life. It just wasn’t. And it unlocked what feels like the full potential of my empathy, the ability to truly understand and appreciate the perspective of our colleagues in the job of life—not that I’m perfect at that, but the potential is always there. And all of this occurred without me really understanding that it had occurred, during a time where I was otherwise a fairly self-absorbed teenager.
The Return
After this experience, in a lot of ways I just reverted back to the path I had always been on. I continued abusing drugs, continued doing “what I was supposed to do” by going to college and getting a degree…a degree steeped deep in alcohol and marijuana, but a degree nonetheless. In thinking back to those days, I wonder how my life might have been different if I had met someone who could have provided that guidance I so sorely needed, both in life and yes, with psychedelics. I managed to get straight As through college despite getting blackout drunk with great regularity; how well could I have done if I was sober? As I write this I feel a wry smile creep up on my lips; ultimately I feel that all my circumstances and experiences have led me to be the person I am today, and really, it couldn’t have happened any other way. Sometimes I’ll spend a brief moment lamenting the fact that my life could have been very different; during my senior year of high school I had planned everything around attending the University of Illinois in Champaign, IL. I had it mostly all figured out, from the classes I’d take to the friend I’d live with while on campus. As the months passed and various schoolmates received acceptance letters, I became concerned and called the University, which proceeded to tell me that they never received my application. I immediately completed another one and sent it off the next day, but I was too late and ended up being thrown on a wait list, despite having the grades, extracurriculars, and membership in the national honor society (I think that’s what it was called; it’s been a while). Because of that, I didn’t get to move in with my overachieving friend (who went on to graduate early with multiple majors and the highest GPA in his department’s history), I defaulted to the local public school at Northern Illinois University, got mixed up in druggie crowds, and ended up spending a good chunk of my college experience entirely inebriated.
But looking back, that’s just the path I needed to follow. I now have the greatest empathy for those who are challenged with substance use and abuse. Really, I came to develop more and more empathy for all folks who struggle, who are pushed to the fringe of society and cast away. I ended up primarily studying psychology, and it was during a Research Methods class that I was able to create a study examining the effects of a month of daily meditation on subjective well-being (shocker: it improved!). Meditation is now a key part of my life. I developed a relationship with a former professor from my high school who was still in the area, and who seeded a lot of Buddhist philosophy by giving me the book Way of the Peaceful Warrior. And in keeping with the themes of this post, in my senior year at NIU I was able to attend a new class entitled “Psychedelic Mindview” taught by Dr. Thomas Roberts, a class where I learned all about the great potential of these mysterious entheogens. At the time there were only 5 of us in the class, though I think it became quite popular later on, so I was able to really dig in. All of these experiences have shaped who I am today, and I would not have had them, had I gone to the school I was *supposed* to go to.
After I graduated college, I lost connection with a lot of folks, and the prospect of psychedelic use became non-existent. I didn’t know where to get them, and didn’t know who to use them with. My last trip during this period was during the summer of 2005 when I tripped on some mushrooms with my good friend and roommate, whom I still enjoy friendship with to this day. It was an absolutely wonderful experience, and as such, I was sort of ok with that being my last psychedelic experience at the time. Especially for those who don’t know what to expect, psychedelics can bring fearful moments, and those fearful moments can expand into bad trips. I have had those experiences in my life and have no desire to repeat them (unless in the name of personal growth, with a guide), so ending on a really good trip seemed like the right call. Though as I mentioned, it was made easier by the fact that I didn’t have access anymore. My roommate and I parted ways that fall, with several years of living together in a $265/month 575 square foot apartment having taken their toll and each of us needing our respective space for a few years. Truthfully I’m sure I was an annoying roommate at times. I always did my part, but I could also be controlling. I liked things a certain way, and I didn’t fully appreciate how much I impose my desires on others. It’s something I try to be more mindful of these days, though not always successfully.
At that point, I gave up psychedelics for 14 years. It’s crazy to think about how long that is, but that’s just how life goes. We get on a track, put our head down, and march forward. It was only after snagging some mushroom chocolates at a Phish show that I came back to give them another try. And in fact, I wasn’t even looking for it—I actually just wanted to buy a bag of weed, but the seller had mushroom chocolates on hand and so I said sure, why not. It even took me several years before I actually ingested them. I threw them in the freezer as soon as I got them because I wasn’t ready for that kind of experience, and there they sat for a few years until the summer of 2019. Finally I had a full day to myself, so I took a few chocolates and settled in for a day of introspection. I arranged several activities to engage with during the trip, but I ended up mostly just lying on the ground in the full sun for the majority of it, just drinking in the sunlight as it fueled my visions and insights. Pro tip: If you’ll have access to the outdoors, make sure to apply heavy sunblock early on so that you don’t forget. Thankfully I did so for that trip, and I emerged sunburn-free with a collection of thoughtful considerations for reflection.
Since that mushroom experience, I’ve had two LSD sessions, which means I’ve tripped a total of three times in the last 16 years. Each of these trips have been meaningful and insightful. As I’ve explored these substances with a richer knowledge of their potential, and as I’ve come to integrate many Buddhist philosophies into my life and adopted a regular meditation practice, I’ve come to appreciate the value of periodically—with great respect and reverence—using these substances as a way to reconnect with your past insights as well as develop new ones. To explore the unexplored, to see the world through open awareness in a way that most of us don’t conceive of as possible. It’s crucial that they are used with full consideration of set and setting, by setting intentions beforehand, by managing the experience with full knowledge of its potential both for good and for bad, and by ideally working with a guide. But when they are used in this way, they are unparalleled as a lightning rod tool for spiritual and inner growth—though they must be followed with an effort to practice and continue that growth outside of psychedelia.
In my (admittedly limited) experience, the only thing that rivals their potential is the sincere study and practice of meditation. I have been deeply immersed in insight meditation for the past three years, with a daily practice and weekly and monthly meetings with insight meditation groups. To oversimplify, the secular version of this is basically known as mindfulness. Through this practice, I have grown exponentially as a person, and have refined many of the lessons that I have learned, in bits and pieces, from my psychedelic experiences. This in turn has vastly increased my happiness, and significantly decreased my habitual tendencies toward strongly desiring that which I like and strongly rejecting that which I don’t. Instead, I’ve learned to (mostly) accept experiences as they are, to break the chains of habitual reactivity and recognize that most of our suffering is not caused by the stimulus itself but by our reaction to it. I’ve learned to take deep pleasure in the ordinary; my morning walks are infinitely more enjoyable to me as I view them with a lens undistorted by podcasts or music, but rather with open awareness. I’ve learned to take delight in great simplicity, in noticing a backyard or a fence or a landscape that, despite having crossed in front of countless times, I had never really noticed. I’ve learned to notice my inner critic, I’ve learned to notice my anger and irritation arise, I’ve learned to notice the feeling of a desire arising and fading…really, I’ve learned to notice, period. And for me, I feel strongly that the respectful, infrequent use of psychedelics can help deepen these insights, help me notice more, and ultimately, help me be a happier, better human.
The Next Steps
Despite these positive beliefs about psychedelics, a part of me has worried that their use was in some way problematic. After all, they can be dangerous. If taken without proper knowledge and precautions, and without the right set and setting, they can produce *seriously* difficult experiences. A guide is extremely important for initial experiences or moderate/high dose experiences, or at the very least, someone who has had psychedelic experiences in the past. I think many psychonauts would agree that in some way, these drugs are a shortcut to the divine, to the spiritual awakening which can take dozens of years of study and meditation. But since most shortcuts have consequences, it just always seemed like in some way, their use was wrong, or at best, a temporary fix, an altered mind state without long-term meaningful ramifications. But once I read about Jack Kornfield’s embrace of their potential, it’s almost as if the endorsement of a spiritual leader I respect gave me permission to view them as the vehicles for personal transformation that they truly are.
I was quite surprised to see such a willingness to acknowledge their potential. Perhaps many others in the field agree, and perhaps there are other Buddhist teachers who speak openly of their benefits—Pistono’s article shows that there are—but this was my first exposure to someone I personally followed and respected discussing their value. I have heard other prominent scholars of our time—Sam Harris and Michael Pollan, to name a few—speak and write publicly of their value, and hearing that information from these individuals has also been affirming of my own usage, and helped encourage me to explore them again. In particular, Pollan’s How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression, and Transcendence has done a great deal to legitimize the use and study of these drugs, and I’d likely recommend his book above all others referenced in this post for those new to the space who are interested in simply learning more about psychedelics. But for me, it was especially meaningful to hear Kornfield, a prominent teacher of a practice that I strongly believe in, speak about them on the record.
It’s no secret that many cultures have used psychedelic substances in shamanic rituals, as means of personal growth and spiritual advancement. This has happened for thousands of years. But I had figured that Western Buddhist leaders and scholars would be reluctant to acknowledge/talk about psychedelics, for a variety of reasons. It’s not so dissimilar to my thoughts on modern Buddhists’ reluctance to discuss the meat question—how, if we are truly wishing a life free from suffering to all beings, something we do quite often in our practice, we should not be needlessly taking a life for food, especially under the torturous circumstances of modern animal agriculture. It seems like Buddhist teachers don’t want to discuss that question for fear of offending, or for fear of dissuading potential new practitioners. Or, perhaps it’s to justify their own lifestyle and the reasons that they choose not to change. Some scholars claim it’s a complicated issue because the Buddha ate meat, even though he probably only ate it bc it was given to him as the highest offering available to certain groups of his followers, and even though it seems obvious that he would, at the very least, strongly condemn the way we raise animals for food in modern society. I *strongly* believe the Buddha would not eat meat in today’s world, but I must acknowledge that my belief is based on my interpretation of Buddhist teachings, that I’m no expert, and that others may disagree. I’ve heard the argument that it’s all relative because some take stricter views than the Buddha on some things (like veganism) and a more relaxed view on others (like permitting the use of psychedelics so long as they don’t lead to heedlessness), and I’m somewhat convinced by this view. It’s interesting to read about the different sects of Buddhism, how some are more orthodox and interpret every word literally and at face value, whereas other sects have a more open interpretation, one that allows for some more flexibility so long as our actions advance our spirituality and connection, and ultimately lead to helping others. Because at the end of the day, that’s why we practice; we don’t seek to better ourselves for our own sake, but that we might be better equipped and able to help others. At any length, it’s not like we can ask the Buddha how he feels about these things today, in 2021.
So, given the general reluctance to take official positions on things like needlessly killing animals for food, it struck me as significant that there was a willingness to open up about psychedelics. I’d assume that most prominent Buddhist scholars wouldn’t want to suggest that there’s a drug-induced shortcut of sorts to coming to terms with the connection of all life, for a variety of reasons—to make sure people don’t discount the value of traditional meditation, so that people don’t abuse drugs too much or come to rely on them, so that people who aren’t prepared for the experience don’t have bad trips, etc. But here Kornfield was, laying it out there. It was validating and comforting in a way that hearing similar statements from Pollan and Harris simply was not (no offense to them at all). Though I am no less grateful to them for publicly discussing this sensitive subject so openly, as they’ve undoubtedly reached tons of people who otherwise would not have been exposed to these concepts. In fact, I may be even more grateful to them for their openness about this topic, since they are reaching segments of the public that would never tune in to hear the opinions of a Buddhist teacher.
Sometimes, there are methods of investigating the use of psychedelics that can appeal to both audiences, to those who might primarily view their potential as being in spiritual growth, as well as those who seek scientific evidence of their effects from well-orchestrated research. One such example is a Swiss study conducted in 2018 involving 39 meditators who took part in a five-day silent retreat. After giving half of the meditators psilocybin on the fourth day of the retreat, researchers found that: “Psilocybin increased meditation depth and incidence of positively experienced self-dissolution along the perception-hallucination continuum, without concomitant anxiety. Openness, optimism, and emotional reappraisal were predictors of the acute response. Compared with placebo, psilocybin enhanced post-intervention mindfulness and produced larger positive changes in psychosocial functioning at a 4-month follow-up, which were corroborated by external ratings, and associated with magnitude of acute self-dissolution experience. Meditation seems to enhance psilocybin’s positive effects while counteracting possible dysphoric responses.” While it is important to avoid overpromising the potential of psychedelics, it is my strong suspicion that as more research is conducted—remember that pretty much all research was shut down for about 25 years starting in 1977, and even then, strict regulations have slowed development in this area—we will see more and more evidence emerge of their transformative effects when used thoughtfully and responsibly. I’ll write more about the research side of things at a later date.
The building momentum of interest in psychedelics and the increasing public discourse around them—via the aforementioned scholars, researchers, and Buddhist teachers—has even given me reason to pause with consideration to my work. To this point, I have spent the vast majority of my career helping disadvantaged animals. I’ve targeted animals because I see them as significantly neglected in our society, and because I think the severity and frequency of their suffering is unparalleled in our history, especially those on factory farms and those aquatic animals being “harvested” in the wild to the tune of hundreds of billions of living creatures each year. Spending my career in this arena has been my way of contributing to help the plight of the largest body of suffering that I can imagine. I still strongly believe this to be the case, that the greatest good can be done through advocating for these groups of horribly abused living beings. However, as psychedelics become more mainstream again, as the resurgence has solidified, as more and more research studies come out, as MDMA is likely to be used for official therapy as early as 2023, as psilocybin is studied for depression and for coming to terms with end-of-life experiences, as many psychedelics are considered for many different ailments, and as prominent scholars speak out, the thought has occurred to me that I could do substantial good by advocating for their responsible use.
For one, it’s still a neglected area. Psychedelics are certainly experiencing a resurgence, but they are still understudied, still used disrespectfully, and still very much in need of advocacy groups who help guide and shape the public message. Taking a meta view, these substances have transformative potential, and helping usher in their responsible use (especially in therapeutic settings) could have tremendously positive impacts on the collective view and mindset of humanity. Think about it: in the United States alone, we have tens of millions of people suffering from chronic anxiety and depression; current medications are a crapshoot. The drugs that work well only do so half the time, most have a plethora of side effects, and we don’t really understand the effects that they have on the brain and body. If an advocacy group was able to help improve the image of psychedelics in the public arena, if that would help usher in federal laws that allow for their medicinal study and subsequent therapeutic application, then you could be talking about exposing tens of millions of people to these substances in the not-too-distant future…and many tens of millions more after that, if you consider how the United States is often seen as a thought leader around the world. And those tens of millions are just those who experience symptoms significant enough to be classified as having anxiety or depressive disorders; other polls have found that almost half of people in the United States are “feeling down.” If we could help flip the switch in large numbers of the population, if we could help them see the connection inherent between all life, think of the ramifications that could have on how we treat each other! How we treat other nations, people who look different from us? How we treat animals? How we treat our planet? It’s possible that a collective shift in consciousness toward compassion and empathy could take place, and in that way, perhaps psychedelic advocacy is an area ripe for exploration and expansion.
Still, I haven’t made a decision to pursue this path. The rebirth of conversation and acceptance around psychedelics has increased the potential for tractable solutions to a plethora of psychological problems, along with further opening the gates of possibilities for introspection and deepening self-awareness and growth. Yet the field hasn’t risen to the place where it feels more tractable than say, for example, advocating for animals imprisoned and tortured in farms—a problem which can clearly be addressed through producing alternatives, improving welfare standards, and promoting diet change. And for all their benefits, psychedelics can indeed be dangerous when used improperly, or when used by people who are not prepared (or able) to meet the experience in openness and safety.
On that note, I’ll close with some words of caution from the aforementioned Lions Roar article: “Lama Karma, while expressing deep gratitude for what his work with ayahuasca has allowed him to access and heal, warns that psychedelics can greatly enhance the ego. ‘Experiences on these plant medicines can definitely supercharge your personal samsara in ways that you can believe are deeply liberating,’ he explains. ‘Some people go from one so-called liberating experience to another, effectively running in circles while constantly telling all their friends how profoundly life-changing it all is.’” In other words, it’s important to remember that yes, these substances have profound possibilities, but they are also dangerous when not used skillfully. And in addition to the more obvious dangers, there exists another risk, that we become so convinced by their effects that we end up feeding and growing the very ego we had thought we escaped, that we end up fueling desire and craving for future experiences. Psychedelics have transformative potential, but we must always keep perspective and treat them with reverence, not as something fun to do on the weekend, or as something that makes *us* profound.
I remain fascinated by the field and will keep my eyes open for methods to advance it, should the right opportunity arise. In the meantime I’ll support the more obvious players in the space, like the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS), which is working to advance clinical research with these powerful substances. I offer my sincere gratitude for their efforts.
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PS: I recently successfully quit drinking after more than two decades of regular use (and sometimes abuse). Coincidentally or not, my success in quitting occurred 5 months after my re-entry into the psychedelic space, after I had taken mushrooms for the first time in 14 years during the summer of 2019. I know there were a lot of factors at play; for example, I’m sure my mindfulness training played a role in my ability to quit. But I must confess that since that re-entry trip, I have thought to myself many times, what in the heck have I been doing wasting brain cells on alcohol? Point being that if I’m going to ingest a drug, a drug that probably takes some amount of physiological and psychological toll on my body—I would assume that all drugs in this space, including psychedelics, take some toll, regardless of their benefits—I may as well use the drug that helps me grow mentally and spiritually, and the one that doesn’t produce any compulsion to use regularly, rather than the one that causes me to act like a moron and incapacitates me the following day, and the one that makes me want to have the same harmful experience all over again the next day. Not that I have to take any drug at all, of course. But I find it interesting that my brain so often goes the comparison route when making the decision not to drink. And I also find it interesting that I was ultimately successful with quitting drinking so soon after my first foray back into the psychedelic space, after many, many years of unsuccessful attempts.