From the Field: Lessons from psychedelic practices in the Netherlands is a blog series based on my qualitative research at the Rijksuniversiteit Groningen in collaboration with the OPEN Foundation. The study focused on the conception and practice of safe and beneficial use of psychedelics in group settings in the Netherlands: more specifically in counterculture, ayahuasca ceremonies and truffle retreat centers. Based on in-depth interviews with experienced practitioners, the series highlights and connects diverse aspects of psychedelic practices, from cultural influences through ethics to sensory stimuli. This post dives deep into participants’ autonomy.

Part 1: Lessons on Psychedelic Harm Reduction with PsyCare NL – From the field
Part 2: Dutch Psychedelic Practices Shaped by Culture and Law
Part 3: From the Field: Music in Psychedelic Practices
Part 4: From the Field: Psychedelics and Nature
Part 5: From the Field: Psychedelics and Autonomy (current post)

Planning my research, I hypothesized that autonomy would be a significant characteristic of countercultural practices. I did not anticipate that it would play such an important role in all practices, and that all facilitators in my study would spontaneously highlight this. Respondents used specific vocabulary that reflected their attitudes towards autonomy: they “offer” advice and services to participants, and “invite them”, or “encourage them” to follow.

Discussing autonomy in the context of psychedelic practices is not straightforward. Cambridge dictionary defines autonomy as “the ability to make your own decisions without being controlled by anyone else”. Due to psychedelics’ association with enhanced suggestibility, the very notions of autonomy and control become blurry. Participants’ ability to make decisions may be compromised while under the influence, letting go of control may be a part of the process, wills and feelings may be influenced by group dynamics. Discussions surrounding psychedelics often raise ethical concerns about the validity of informed consent, vulnerability of patients, and the potential for abuse of authority. As Ido Hartogsohn reminds us, it was mind-control that drove “the massive financial support of the CIA for LSD research during the 1950s and 1960s”.

The emphasis that facilitators put on autonomous choice is woven through the entire practice. It begins with insisting that participants should come out of their own free will, rather than be convinced into the experience. I will use three concrete examples to illustrate how the abstract notions of autonomy and freedom are applied: a) the choice of event, b) conduct and participation in activities, and c) dosing. 

Freedom and autonomy in psychedelic practices

Some choices are made before the first contact between facilitators and potential participants. Participants choose between group and individual use, and opt for one practice over another (i.e. ayahuasca ceremony, retreat centre or a cultural event). These decisions may also imply the substance and general setting for their experience. The following examples are used to demonstrate how autonomy is expressed within the practices themselves. Once we have an idea, the second part of the article will discuss the significance of autonomy and some of its implications.

Choosing the type and length of event

In most ceremonial settings there are different lengths of events to choose from. For example, Albert recommends two nights of ayahuasca ceremonies, but participants can freely choose to stay only one night. Similarly, Anton’s workshops are mostly three or four days long, which he considers most beneficial. Next to these, there are nine and one-day retreats. He started offering one-day workshops “to accommodate for people” who indicated that they cannot fit longer events into their busy schedules. 

In counterculture, the contexts available for psychedelic experiences are manyfold. They vary in the type of event (e.g. an arts festival, a party, a nature walk), length (from a few hours to multiple days), size, intensity of stimuli and so forth. The interviewees occasionally expressed their opinions about events’ possible contribution to safe and beneficial use of psychedelics. However, since “everybody has their own preference”, they do not consider it their responsibility to make the best selection, but rather to offer a large variety which can answer different needs and wishes.

Expected conduct and participation in activities

While facilitators offer activities and practices to support the experience in beneficial ways, participants are not always comfortable in following them. According to Albert, it is “far better that people don’t move”, and stay seated throughout the ceremony. However, experience has taught him that “most people can’t handle it“. As he explains, when the effects begin, people are afraid to let go and “start to move around”. For example, some people want to go outside to smoke; he allows it, and also considers it a part of his job to bring them back in (for safety reasons as well). In the retreat centre, participants are advised to use an eye-mask during the ceremony, to come with comfortable, light clothes, and to avoid using phones, watches or other technological devices throughout the retreat. “But nothing is required in that sense. It’s just advice”, Rob stressed. Other retreats make different choices, such as collecting participants’ mobile phones at the beginning of the retreat. Allowing this freedom means accepting what Rob described as occasional “unsettling moments”, like participants choosing to use their phone at the dinner table.

Participants are not obliged to take part in any activity. During the on-site preparation for the ceremony, which can amount to a full day, Anna “invites people to be present with everything”, but at the same time “feel into your own needs”. She explains that participants are free to skip activities, as long as they notify the organizers, and may still stay in the space. For example, after participating in the first ceremony, sometimes people do not want to drink in the second, “because they either felt that in ceremony, or there’s so much going on, whatever, it doesn’t matter. I always invite them to still be in ceremony with us without drinking”. Anton shared a similar approach. When someone is reluctant to participate, he asks them to “reflect, why don’t you partake? You don’t have to explain to us, but to yourself, and maybe there’s a lesson in it also: I’m shy, or I don’t like this, or I’m just lazy, or I want to lay down, don’t bother me, whatever.” Note the similar language. In all these examples, participants’ autonomy is granted, without dependency on justifications, motivations, their awareness thereof, their constructiveness to the process or any other ‘objective’ valuation.

Substance and dosing

My study included a variety of substances. Ceremonial practices involved either ayahuasca or truffle based tea. In the countercultural setting, substances are neither supplied nor controlled by the organizers, and polydrug use is prevalent. All interviewed facilitators, without exception, said that participants have a choice about their dose.

In the uncontrolled environment of counterculture, you are expected to “bring your own pills”, Carla says. To be clear, “don’t ask us for the pills!”, Chris added laughingly. Apart from obvious legal concerns, this approach stems from a high commitment to freedom, autonomy and self-responsibility. In Carla’s words: “I would never tell somebody, ‘oh, you should take this or you should do that’, no. Find out for yourself, and if you’re interested, then we can talk about it. I mean, I could show you different ways. I would never ever tell anybody what to do. No. No. That’s not my position.” People are expected to learn about substances and doses from the internet, books, and one another, “and responsible use, that is up to everybody themselves.”

According to all ayahuasca facilitators in the study, participants are offered a certain initial dose (in a cup), which they can fully or partially drink. After one to two hours, there is an option to drink more, and so it goes on until the announcement of the final round, three to four hours later. “The dose is different for every person”, Albert stated, and experience plays an important role: “one in eight who drink for the first time don’t feel a big effect. It’s even possible not [to feel] an effect at all, or at least this is how they experience it. Sometimes they do have an effect, but they don’t recognize it as an effect.” From the facilitator’s side, Anton explained that he knows the level of sensitivity only with regular participants. With new ones, “it’s more guessing instead of knowing”, which is one of the reasons for preferring longer events. Based on their experience, variation in sensitivity can extend from needing one third of the standard measuring cup up to three and even four full cups. Other than experience, sensitivity may be attributed to various mental and physical factors, such as metabolism. In addition, because ayahuasca is a brew, each batch may differ from the previous. All of these elements also change from one day to another. Thus, Anton clarified, rather than sticking to predetermined knowledge, “it’s observing what’s going on”, monitoring participants’ state, discussing it, and helping them reach a decision.

During a preparatory forest walk, retreat facilitators discuss dosing options with each participant. Choices are achieved mutually, “depending on if people already have experience with psychedelic substances, what their current state of being is and how at ease they feel with a certain [dose]”, Rob explained. Each participant receives the agreed dose, and like in ayahuasca ceremonies, they can drink the whole cup or leave some for later. “After one hour we check in with the participants if the dosing feels right or if they want to go deeper”, Ronald specified, “and that could be drinking the rest in the cup, but also having a top-up.”

Few elements are mandatory or predetermined. In ceremonial practices, they concern safety, and balancing one’s autonomy with its effects on the rest of the group. For example, people who take certain medications (e.g. MAOIs) are excluded from participating in retreat and ayahuasca ceremonies in advance. During some ceremonies, participants are asked to stay inside, or to refrain from speaking with one another until a certain point. Those are the exceptions that prove the rule, and the rule is that there are no rules, only a general scheme. Why is it that freedom and autonomy play such an important role in psychedelic practices? There seem to be ideological and practical explanations. To understand them, let’s take a deep dive into the practices.

The underground as a home for the free-spirited

Counterculture, by definition, is a group of people or a way of life which does not abide by the norms and ideas accepted by mainstream society. During his lecture about “the ancestral legacy of the counterculture” in ICPR 2024, Erik Davis talked about the paradox of LSD: “there’s this wonderful, sacred substance, people have remarkable experiences, but in order to get it to them you kind of have to be a criminal.” The fact of having to obtain your own drugs is already a transgression. But according to Davis, the transgression cannot be fully attributed to the legal circumstances. In opposition to religious frameworks, “people interested in acid… were not interested in dogma”.

Today, there is a plurality of histories and presents which can be bound together under the title psychedelic underground or counterculture. The interviewees in my research mentioned their “free-spirited“ Dutch and international roots, as “the squatters, the provos, the hippies and the artists who brought with them a love and a passion for entheogens”. All those groups have some affiliation with freedom. When asked about their ideology, Carla and Cor referred to “The ideology of the scharrelmens” and to the Homo Ludens. Scharrelmens can be translated as ‘‘free-range humans’. “In Dutch we have scharrelkip [free-range chicken], scharrelvarken [free-range pigs], these are more or less liberated from living in a battery”, Cor explained. “But for humans, there is no space yet for scharrelmensen where they can…” ”Play outside”, Carla finished his sentence. In Homo Ludens, play is defined as a voluntary activity, never a necessity or obligation. “Here, then, we have the first main characteristic of play: that it is free, is in fact freedom.”

Room for play and the absence of authority are apparent in various facets of the interviewees’  cultural community. “We don’t really have leaders here. We have people that take initiatives”, Carla explained their mode of work. “We’re in a circle, that’s important”, Cor supplied an image, “if you prevent one group or one person from taking the center… you really keep the center open for everything that’s possible, for everything that wants to come in. And don’t plan too much… Keep a lot of space for completely unexpected developments.” 

As a basic communal value, it is of no surprise that autonomy remains important in the context of psychedelic use. Here is what Carla said when I asked for recommendations for getting a deeper understanding of the practice: “look and judge for yourself. Nobody can tell you what to expect, what to do. You have to really find this out for yourself. It’s your journey. Nobody is going to hold your hand. I mean, it’s your path in life”. 

Freedom and autonomy, safety and beneficialness

On the practical side, the dosing example can demonstrate how an autonomy-based approach can contribute to safety and beneficialness. Studies dedicated to determining optimal dosing sometimes consider personal characteristics, like weight. Others reveal relations between underlying mental conditions, dosing, symptom relief and adverse effects. Yet as Ronald highlighted, when dosing is determined individually and participants are aware of that, a positive effect is created. Anna explained that it is “important for a lot of people, also around safety… to not put all the authority outside of themselves, but [that] they also have some say around that.” This may have a special significance for psychedelic experiences, where people may feel a loss of control and are often encouraged to let go of it. Indeed, one participant in Anna’s ceremony gave her feedback that deciding about the dosage “really gave me a sense of agency”.

According to facilitators, agency or self governance can be part and parcel of the psychedelic process in all its stages. For some people, Cor pointed out, experiencing freedom internally and externally is the very reason for taking  psychedelics. “They can go out of their mind and do anything… it’s fantastic if you can do that, dance around the fire and take off your clothes”. A true sense of freedom and possibility can also be the result of psychedelic experiences, and may be related to their therapeutic powers. Rob shared how psychedelics were key to his own recovery from a traumatic injury, prior to his work as a retreat guide: “I wasn’t seeing myself as a victim of circumstances anymore, but I could take ownership for the state I was in. And I could actually see that there were some possibilities in it, that I could do things differently and make other choices.”

Conditions for freedom, letting go of control

In Anton’s ceremonies, “safety is our main priority, freedom is the second. So as long as freedom does not interfere with safety, a lot is possible.” People who usually work with psychedelics ‘above-ground’, and come to work as assistants in his ceremonies, are always surprised at how everything goes smoothly in the absence of protocols. “We give a lot of space here”, he explains. When somebody stands up, they approach and talk to them if there is a sign of instability or a strong process going on. Otherwise, “we let people stand, let people scream, let people walk around, dance around. They want to go outside? Of course. We keep an eye out, but [there is] a lot of freedom, and that also gives a special energy to this work”. 

As Anton’s description implies, in order to facilitate real autonomy and free choice, a shame-free and non-judgemental space is required. In “Honor and Shame in Western History”, Humanities scholar Jörg Wettlaufe explains that shame is both a biological and social emotion. As such, it is part of the human condition, but is also shaped culturally, and tied to Christian morality in the European context. Shame plays a role in increasing group coherence through norm internalization, and can be used to “ostracize and stigmatize people who do not accept or behave according to group norms”, he continues. Thus, judgement and shame can be used as subtler forms of control and even coresion, setting limits to freedom. During altered states, people can feel like doing things which are not socially accepted, like screaming, dancing or crying in public. Multiple facilitators highlighted how refraining from judgement and shame contributes to a safe and beneficial psychedelic experience. “[It] is a shame-free space, I think that’s really important”, Ronald explained, “that also belongs to not getting re-traumatized or not having to push down things.” Carla connected non-judgement to allowing one’s process to flow independently: “we don’t judge people very easily. So, if you’re looking for yourself, then there’s a space here for you to do it”. “You do you, and we will leave you be”, Chris confirmed. Non-judgement and awareness of shame also played a role in my own work with PsyCare NL, helping people deal with difficult and challenging psychedelic experiences.

Finally, individual autonomy seems to be facilitated through a humble approach to knowledge and minimal use of the power of authority by the facilitator. Practitioners described their long experience and ability to see participants’ state as tools for facilitating, supporting and helping with decision-making. But it never amounted to their knowing better than the participant what he or she needs and wants. Authority was claimed by practitioners neither for themselves nor for their practice. Rob explained that, despite elements of ritual, retreat participants are invited to “come as they are, and they don’t have to act in a certain way, to do it in ‘the right way’.” Anton invites participants to consider drinking ayahuasca in other places, recognizing that his ceremonies may not be ideal for everyone. Following Albert’s initiation, his shaman said “from now on you do your own thing”. He has the same hope for his participants: that they “understand that they don’t need me, and that they can do it by themselves.” Ultimately, the similarities between the practices in attitudes towards autonomy, agency, self responsibility and freedom may be connected to the psychedelic process itself. Here is how Anna described it: “I don’t want to be someone who says, ‘well, I know what’s best for you’. I can give you advice. I can see what I’m seeing. I can reflect things back to you. And then it’s up to you what you do with it. And for me, basically, that’s what ayahuasca does as well.”

Interviewees aliases table

Stay tuned on LinkedIn, Instagram or via our newsletter below

• LinkedIn
• Instagram

From the Field: Lessons from psychedelic practices in the Netherlands is a blog series based on my qualitative research at the Rijksuniversiteit Groningen in collaboration with the OPEN Foundation. The study focused on the conception and practice of safe and beneficial use of psychedelics in group settings in the Netherlands: more specifically in counterculture, ayahuasca ceremonies and truffle retreat centers. Based on in-depth interviews with experienced practitioners, the series highlights and connects diverse aspects of psychedelic practices, from cultural influences through ethics to sensory stimuli. This post dives deep into nature.

  Part 1: Lessons on Psychedelic Harm Reduction with PsyCare NL – From the field
  Part 2: Dutch Psychedelic Practices Shaped by Culture and Law
  Part 3: From the Field: Music in Psychedelic Practices
  Part 4: From the Field: Psychedelics and Nature (current post)

The background gradually changed from grey to green as I was driving outside the city toward my first interview. Buildings turned into trees, the highway into small roads leading to a quiet unknown territory. There were but a few cars at the unpaved parking, no people in sight. Singing birds escorted me into the terrain between winding trails and luscious vegetation. Following the sound of frogs, I came to a beautiful pond. I sat there for a while until it was time to go inside. By then, I was already in a completely different state of mind.

The sound of arriving at the first interview location

In stark opposition to the setting of clinical trials and envisioned medical applications of psychedelics, all psychedelic practices included in my research take place in nature. The precise indoor/outdoor configuration varies between practices and circumstances. With cultural events, it is often weather-dependent; the ceremonial part of truffle and ayahuasca retreats typically happens indoors. Yet if we look at the locations where these practices are held, they are either beautiful natural places, or settings where nature is taken care of and thrives.

The healing power of nature

Myriad studies have linked being in nature to positive effects on human physical and mental health. For example, studies on shinrin-yoku (forest bathing) showed benefits to immune, cardiovascular and respiratory systems, as well as mood disorders, stress, and mental relaxation. Attention Restorative Theory suggests that natural environments contribute to recovery from Directed Attention Fatigue. Interaction with nature has been associated with health outcomes in depression, anxiety, diabetes, ADHD, cancer, obesity, migraines, respiratory disease, stress relief, and the list goes on. In an article linking reduced systemic inflammation to frequent exposure to nature, the authors suggest that “incorporating nature exposure into interventions could offer an accessible and cost-effective approach to improving health outcomes”. Is nature a ‘magic cure’, a panacea?

Interestingly, scientific research into the application of nature as a medical intervention encounters similar problems to psychedelic research. First, most studies are focused on short-term effects. Second, blinding is difficult and often impossible to achieve, so the majority of experiments “do not comply with strict criteria for RCTs, and do not qualify as clinical evidence”. Due to the belief that “only RCTs can produce trustworthy results“, health professionals are hesitant to prescribe nature interventions. Third, poor reporting and additional methodological issues result in evidence being “insufficient to establish clinical practice guidelines for its use”. Finally, while there is an abundance of mechanisms for explaining how nature promotes health, it is difficult (if not impossible) to “quantify the mental health benefits produced by nature exposure”. 

Still, there is a confluence of evidence from the natural, social and health sciences that experiences in nature and increased psychological well-being are positively associated. At the same time, evidence points to a general decrease in the quantity and quality of opportunities for nature experiences for many people around the globe. As Bratman et al. explain, disengagement with nature can be attributed to increased urbanization, and modern living habits, such as diminished outdoor time and increased sedentary activities and screen time. Over generations, “this disengagement with nature may be partially driven by a negative feedback loop”, where the decreasing availability of nature experiences for one generation creates a lower baseline of reference for the next. With no remote natural areas and meager uninhabited land, the Netherlands is a prime example of this. Thus, when we discuss psychedelic practices in the Netherlands, it is against this backdrop.

Nature in psychedelic practices

According to participants interviewed for my research, the majority of practices include overnight stays, held in venues with accommodations. “For me, the most important thing is that I have locations that are somehow in or around nature”, Anna explained. In most cases, the main structure used for psychedelic practices had an atypical form, such as a yurt, castle or church. Indeed, these were typically in or around nature, that is to say, the structures were small in relation to the surrounding nature (meadows, gardens, forests), rather than large complexes with a small garden. In short, nature was the default ‘setting’ of the studied practices.

Some sort of physical activity in nature was part of all practices considered in my research. Dancing, walking, or other forms of movement in nature sometimes serve as preparation for retreat and ayahuasca ceremonies. For example, in one practice dosing options are discussed during a nature walk. Then, following a meditation in the forest, the way back is walked in silence. The objective is to get participants “out of their minds and into their bodies as much as possible through these forest walks, bodywork and breathing meditation”, Rob told me. It also creates a set and setting, which “allows [participants] to feel safe going into the experience, and also feel safe during the experience”. In addition to their preparatory role for ceremonies, walks in nature were also mentioned as psychedelic practices on their own, in counterculture and in ayahuasca circles. For example, during a 4-day long ayahuasca retreat, the last day was dedicated to a nature walk with a smaller dose.

For facilitators in counterculture, being away from the city contributes to a safer and more beneficial psychedelic experience in quite a direct way. As Chris put it, “when you… need a breath of fresh air, you walk into a tree instead of a café in the Leidseplein”. -“Or a car”, Carla added; -“or drunk people”, Chris completed the picture. Yet in all practices, nature is not reduced to its external benefits, being a good ‘setting’, or to what can be gained from it, like creating a good ‘set’ and promoting a safe and beneficial experience. Instead, it is discussed in terms of meaningful and caring relationships. For example, similar to cultural and religious holidays, psychedelic events in counterculture often celebrate peak points in natural cycles, like the seasons (a spring celebration), or moon cycle (full-moon parties). Carla’s bold statement, that “the main point in our ideology is that we don’t have an ideology”, was immediately supplemented with an exception: “But we do all agree about a few things. And that is that nature is important, so we want to take care of everything that’s green [here], and we want to make it beautiful for everybody to enjoy.” Philosophically, retreat guides brought up the notion of God as Nature, as developed by Dutch philosopher Baruch de Spinoza. From this stance, “connecting with nature through a forest walk, spending time in nature, honouring nature… are important aspects of the ceremony”. In counterculture, Cor described a philosophical shift “from [Huizinga’s] Homo Ludens, which is creative, playful, to Homo Florens, which is flowering”.

Having said that, facilitators of ceremonies also recognized that at the height of the experience, participants can get distracted easily and scatter when outside, making it difficult to ensure their safety. Albert shared that in the past he held ceremonies in a private forest, where participants walked outside a lot. It was “amazing, but sometimes also a bit chaotic”. During ceremonies with higher doses, facilitators take precautions to ensure participants’ safety. Typically, when a participant feels like going outside, they are escorted by one of the facilitators, who stays with them until they can go back in. In parallel, practitioners have found different manners to mitigate the ‘risks’ of being in nature, by balancing them with other factors, namely dose and experience. It can be, for example, a low-dose nature walk, or a high-dose walk open only to experienced community members.

From Contact to Connectedness: Relationships with Nature

Understanding the various ways in which nature and psychedelic practices interact requires going beyond seeing nature merely as ‘setting’, the surrounding of practices. We need to broaden our concepts. Nature-connectedness or relatedness is one of the most discussed psychedelic phenomena. Research has found links with mental benefits, such as positive affect, ability to reflect and happiness. Ecologist and researcher Sam Gandy differentiates between nature contact and connectedness: where the former speaks of “passive or superficial interactions with nature”, the latter connotes “actively connecting to and engaging with nature”. Imagine a family picnic in the woods. While the parents are preparing food and chatting about work (nature contact), the little children are climbing trees, thoroughly examining any insect they encounter (nature connectedness). In our contemporary culture, this genuine fascination or awe seems to be lost at quite an early age. As Cor phrased it, even for children “it’s a big step to drop your computer, [look] at a tree and think ‘wow!’”.

The association of psychedelics and nature relatedness seems to create a synergy, enhancing and expanding health benefits. An altered state can grant us that opportunity to rediscover nature like a little child, to be fascinated and curious about it (‘wow!’) instead of recognizing and discarding (‘oh yeah, trees, been there, done that’). It can make us feel differently towards nature, feel that we are part of it, develop a deeper relationship with nature, going beyond its definition as a flat background or a mere ‘setting’ for our experiences.

From Setting to Substance

Nature can influence the ‘set’ and be an integral part of the ‘setting’, but we should not forget the ‘substance’ component. Psychedelic compounds are naturally found in various plants, in mushrooms and even in animals. Before labs and dealers came along, finding them required familiarity with the local natural environment. In science, they were primarily the interest of biologists and botanists rather than chemists and psychologists. The change of focus from natural organisms to chemical compounds was recently criticized by mycologist Paul Stamets. In his brilliantly titled lecture “Nature Relatedness: Happens Better in Nature Than in a Hospital”, he gives the following statistics: out of 198 registered psilocybin trials on www.clinicaltrials.gov, “49 trials have been completed with a molecule, and only one trial completed so far with a mushroom”. These numbers confirm Cor’s protest about the distribution of financial investment in science. As he phrased it, “only 5% of the money… goes into [investigating] natural intelligence, and 95% goes into artificial intelligence”. A rose is a rose is a rose, you may think. However, comparing the effects of a mushroom extract against chemically synthesized psilocybin in mice, a recent study suggests that the extract “has a more potent and prolonged effect on synaptic plasticity” than the synthetic compound.

The history of synthetic compounds is very short in comparison to the various uses of plants by humans, including as medicine. In ceremonial practices in the study, all ingested substances are plants, mushrooms and their derivatives (e.g. mushroom tea). Ayahuasca traditions can help us grasp some of the deeper and more complex entanglements of what we call ‘the ingested substance’ and nature. Also called Yagé, Hoaska or Daime, the ayahuasca brew is a mix of local plants. As such, its ingredients are dependent on the geographical location of the tradition’s origin in the Amazon. For example, chacruna, a plant of the lowland Amazon, is replaced with chagropanga in the highland jungle. Certain local plants are considered family. In the Amazonian tradition Albert ascribes to, caapi (or ayahuasca vine) and tobacco are family. This is why they are both part of the ceremony, where drinking ayahuasca follows sniffing tobacco juice. As he explained, the tobacco prepares the person for the ayahuasca, in cleansing the sinuses and giving “mental clarity”. The ‘substances’ are not seen as separate ‘materials’, which can be mixed and matched at will; they are bound by relationships. Furthermore, each of them can carry multiple meanings, and be used for multiple purposes. Let us look at another example. The commonly-used ayahuasca instrument, Wayra Chakapa is made of leaves bundled into a fan, which makes the sound of the wind (‘wayra’ in Quechua). “Actually it’s called Wayra sach’a, so ‘wind through the forest’. So it’s this sound, but it’s also like an astral cleanser.” Is this nature-based object a musical instrument, a healing accessory, a spiritual artifact? Any of these classifications will miss some of its meanings.

Learning about indigenous worldviews can also shed light on how much our approach to psychedelics and to the psychedelic experience is culture-based. “The central piece of this Amazonian tradition is the ayahuasca vine, the caapi, which is seen as an entity with a wisdom incomparable to any human wisdom or intelligence”, Albert told me. “In our culture, humans are seen as the pinnacle of creation; in the Amazonian context, that’s different… which, for me, is really important to stress”. The significance of this hierarchy is that rather than the shaman, it is the plant that guides the psychedelic experience; it is the plant that guides the shaman in music-making. What does this mean for participants? “Many people want something from the plants, and it should be the other way around. Open yourself up to the plants. What do the plants want from you? What do they want to tell you?”

Zooming out to look at the various practices, there seems to be a connecting line in their relation to nature. Not only in the specifics, but in the nature of the relationship itself (pun intended). It is a relation of care rather than an objectifying one. Ultimately, nature is not regarded as something to use or even to be in. It was part of interviewees’ very definition of what they do: “it’s centred around connecting with yourself, connecting with others and connecting with nature”, Rob explained, “looking closely at nature and… trying to see that we’re part of it and that natural substance is an essential part of that.” Finally, Ronald connected all the dots: “[spirituality], self-love, taking care of yourself, taking care of others, taking care of nature, I think it’s a ripple effect that goes through all levels and all layers”.

Interviewees aliases table

Stay tuned on LinkedIn, Instagram or via our newsletter below

• LinkedIn
• Instagram