Music is an incredible amplifier AND pacifier when it comes to plant medicine therapy; in fact, almost all of the well-known studies on plant medicine were accompanied by carefully curated playlists. I use music to help my clients drop smoothly into the journey, and to support and embellish the subsequent phases of the journey.

Sort of. I generally discourage the client playing DJ as it can prevent them from dropping in and immersing themselves in a non-ordinary state of consciousness. Likewise, our favorite songs often carry a litany of meanings and memories that may not directly align with a client's intentions. That said, nothing is ever black and white. I had a client who wanted to listen to music they had composed. I enthusiastically consented and those songs led to some very important realizations about self-love and creativity.

Good question. Intentions are vitally important because they help us prepare for the plant medicine ceremony. Through comprehensive preparation, not only do we bubble our intentions (beautiful warts and all) to the surface, but we start the difficult work early. Once the journey begins, we're less likely to feel ambushed by what we see and feel. Additionally, they help keep us moored during turbulent phases of the journey.

A bad trip is subjective. Plenty of people, myself included, have stories where a mushroom experience had spiraled into a mess of dark thoughts and even included a looping phase. However, the overwhelming majority of these anecdotes will reveal that the medicine was often ingested without ritual, without appropriate guidance and within chaotic or hostile settings.

A safe and thoughtful container can minimize the chances of a negative spiral. However, I do want to make a critical distinction here. A difficult or semi-turbulent journey is not a bad trip but generally a powerful experience. When we feel compelled to articulate some pain, to cry, even to punch a pillow, it's likely because we have accessed a level of pain or trauma that our default mode networks shield us from and consequently prevent us from reconciling. With thoughtful preparation and a profound trust between client and facilitator, we can wrangle the courage to peer into ourselves fearlessly with wide eyes and open hearts.

Yeah, this is THE task of the facilitator. How do we learn from the original stewards of this sacred medicine without committing another form of extraction and colonization? I take the awe, reverence and gratitude and try not to co-opt anything else. I am not advocating for expensive retreats on native land nor do I imitate the aesthetics of native healers. I am profoundly aware that this medicine is being administered in very different, often antithetical context, and it's my task to build a ritual that reflects the reality of our Western medical model.

I try not to :). The plant medicine journey is a sacred one that requires us to open ourselves to an often uncomfortable degree.

Family and relational dynamics can often make this impossible or surface damage that could prove difficult to repair.

Yes. While I'm a strong advocate for plant medicine and believe it beneficial for all different kinds of people, there are times when a plant medicine journey can do more harm than good.

If we're at an unstable period in our lives and our support network is thin, plant medicine is not always a great option. If we're actively in crisis, we shouldn't be taking plant medicine either. Finally, plant medicine is most effective when we've already took a hard sustained look inward. Folks with regular wellness rituals tend to see better results.