The Journey is the Medicine
A Warning Against the Over-Medicalization of Psychedelics
We’re in the midst of a psychedelic renaissance. If you haven’t heard that term by now, you might be living under a rock, which is fine. But if you haven’t been living under a rock, you have probably heard something about psychedelics, the research being done, and the big promises being made.
In many ways, I’m on board for psychedelics to be gaining more attention. In fact, seeing the promising research coming out about the effectiveness of psilocybin on depression is what got me interested in them to begin with. That being said, as a therapist, herbalist, and healer, I also want to be a voice of warning against the over-medicalization of psychedelics. Sacred plant medicines were never meant to be reduced to protocols and prescriptions. They are teachers, not treatments. And if we try to fit them into the same broken system they’re meant to heal, we’ll lose their magic–and miss the point.
For thousands of years, traditional and indigenous cultures have approached psychedelic plant medicines with reverence–tending to the plants, giving offerings in gratitude, honoring them and recognizing them as spiritual teachers. They have listened to the teachings of the plants and fungi and have created ceremony and sacred space to commune with these sacred teachers. The true medicine lies in these ceremonies and sacred spaces where we build a relationship with the spirit of the medicines. In listening, learning, and approaching these sacred teachers with respect and humility, and thanking them for sharing their wisdom with us. The journey is the point. The discomfort, the hallucinations, they are the point. They are also our teachers. They show us where we are imbalanced, out of alignment, where we are holding onto or carrying things that are ready to be released.
These sacred medicines do not fit well into our industrial medical complex. Research studies are expensive–and are often funded by companies seeking to profit from the treatment that is being studied. This is why pharmaceuticals tend to focus on symptom relief rather than true healing: recurring customers are more profitable than cured ones. This is also why ketamine is the only “psychedelic” therapy (and also not a true psychedelic) that has been approved for use: it is a pharmaceutical that needs ongoing use for ongoing symptom reduction.
On the other hand, sacred plant medicines like psilocybin, along with preparation and integration (which are built into indigenous ceremonies), often see symptom reduction and sustained results after just one to three journeys.
I’ve seen some talk of attempts to create compounds that mimic psilocybin but without the “discomfort” of a journey. They are trying to create something that will not be as effective and will likely be something that needs to be taken long-term. They are taking away the sacredness, the challenge, the magic, in an attempt to fit psychedelics into a sterile, capitalist medical model.
Part of me worries about this for the microdose trend too. Often, people want to feel better without changing much else about their lives. But these sacred plants are meant to shift things. Profoundly. They are trying to inspire us to change because our way of life is not sustainable. The plants ask us to change. They guide us back to the earth. Back to nourishment, not products. Back to presence, not distraction. Back to our bodies, not illusions of perfection. They empower us, while also helping us disengage from the harmful systems in which we find ourselves.
The systems benefit from us being stuck. The for-profit medical industrial system wants us to be sick so that we need to pay for their expensive treatments and stay on a laundry list of medications. The ultraprocessed food companies don’t want us to alter our lifestyle and turn to foods we can grow ourselves. In fact, these processed foods (and phone apps and advertisements) are specifically designed to activate our dopamine and opiate receptors in order to get us addicted to their product and keep us buying more, more, more. To quote Gabor Maté, “What the system sells as happiness is actually pleasure…Pleasure employs dopamine and opiates, both of which operate in short-term bursts, while contentment is based on the more steady, slow-release serotonin apparatus. It is very hard to get addicted to serotoninergic substances or behaviors.” And do you know what is a serotoninergic substance? Psilocybin.
Psychedelics are bad for business, but great for nature and for humans (we’re the same thing anyway). So I am wary when it starts to sound like they’re trying to make a sacred plant teacher into a sterilized medical treatment. For one, it’s not going to work; and two, it smells of yet another attempt to profit off people looking for help and to control the effects (not too much change now, just enough to function at work so the CEO can buy another yacht).
Is it important that psychedelics are done in a way that is safe for those who choose to pursue them as an option? Absolutely. There are of course examples of practitioners who engage in unethical practices and abuse, just like in any realm. This only strengthens the argument on why it is important to have education, honesty, and transparency around psychedelics and their use, which is not possible when they are criminalized. Someone who is looking to capitalize off this psychedelic renaissance and get rich quick is not going to build an ethical psychedelic practice. Psychedelics work best when there is appropriate preparation and integration as well as space-holding by a safe and trusted person or guide. Should there be some oversight? Probably. But following the OR or CO model of mandating high licensure fees make this therapy inaccessible to all but those who are financially well off. This doesn’t sit right with me, especially since this will often make it inaccessible to the descendants of those cultures who have protected these sacred practices and shared them with the Western World.
The way we have been doing things is no longer working. We are seeing the inequities, the cost of our current society: Greater wealth disparity, dying ecosystems, people dying from natural disasters that are increasing in severity. Maybe instead of stubbornly clinging to the system and lifestyle that has exploited us, it’s time we return to the ancient ways, to slower living aligned with nature. To community, to partnership, to reciprocity.
The plants and mushrooms can show us how–but only if we listen. Not as patients, but as students. Not in clinics, but in ceremony. Not for escape, but for return.