“Mystical experience is not a delusion. It’s a real phenomenon that affects people deeply—and now we can watch it happen in the brain.”
— Dr. Roland Griffiths, Johns Hopkins
For centuries, religion has been the container through which humans explore meaning, morality, connection, and mortality. But today, another path to those same truths is rising: psychedelic medicine. And it begs the question:
**Are psychedelics a threat to Western religion… or are they helping us remember what was sacred all along?**
Psychedelics and the God Circuit
In 2024, researchers at Johns Hopkins found that psilocybin can occasion “mystical-type” experiences so powerful, participants ranked them among the top five most meaningful events of their lives—comparable to childbirth or the death of a loved one.
Under the influence of psilocybin, the default mode network (DMN)—a part of the brain linked to ego identity—goes quiet. In that stillness, many experience ego dissolution, timelessness, and unity with something greater.
“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” — Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
Is It All in Your Head?
Critics argue these states are just neurochemical illusions. But that framing ignores something fundamental: *everything* we experience—love, grief, awe, even prayer—is filtered through the brain.
So if a spiritual moment feels just as real on mushrooms as in a church… is one more valid than the other?
“The mystical is not how the world is, but that it is.” — Ludwig Wittgenstein
But What About Microdosing?
One common argument against the spiritual value of psychedelics is that they’re just hallucinogenic tricks—temporary glitches in the brain that only feel profound.
But if that were true, then microdosing shouldn’t work.
There’s no trip. No visuals. No “mystical high.” And yet people report profound shifts: emotional regulation, increased creativity, inner clarity.
If those transformations are happening without hallucinations, then maybe psychedelics aren’t just breaking your perception of reality—they’re helping you rebuild your relationship with it.
But If It Works Without the Trip… Is It Just Another Medicine?
If microdosing can lead to emotional healing and greater clarity—without mystical highs—then we have to ask:
**Is this still a spiritual tool—or just a better antidepressant?**
It’s a fair question.
Microdosing acts on serotonin receptors—just like SSRIs. But the outcomes often feel like something more than symptom relief:
– Pharmaceuticals often blunt emotion. Microdosing expands it.
– Antidepressants numb pain. Psychedelics reveal and help process it.
– Most meds are indefinite. Microdosing often has an end.
So yes, psychedelics might be medicine. But they’re rarely *just* medicine. They’re mirror. Messenger. Map.
And unlike most pharmaceuticals, they don’t ask you to avoid yourself. They ask you to know yourself.
“The difference between medicine and poison is intention.” — Paracelsus
Is It Really Belief vs. Experience?
Religion is often framed as belief. Psychedelics as experience. But religion, too, is full of direct spiritual moments—visions, miracles, divine presence. The difference may lie in how and when you’re allowed to access the sacred.
Where religion can mediate access through clergy and doctrine, psychedelics democratize it. The medicine opens the door without checking credentials.
“You can’t study the darkness by flooding it with light.” — Edward Abbey
Why Are People So Afraid?
There’s real fear—especially within religious institutions—that psychedelics threaten everything: structure, authority, exclusivity.
Loss of control: If you can access the divine directly, what happens to the gatekeepers?
Fear of chaos: The association with the counterculture era still haunts public perception—even as modern research shows grounded, lasting benefits.
What if it’s true? If a mushroom can help someone forgive, love, and feel connected to something bigger… what does that say about the systems built to claim that role?
“People fear what they don’t understand and hate what they can’t conquer.” — Andrew Smith
But We Can’t Just Have People Finding Their Own Way… Can We?
Religions often claim exclusivity. “The way. The truth. The life.” The idea that anyone—anywhere—could connect to God without conversion threatens centuries of orthodoxy.
Psychedelics don’t preach. They don’t need loyalty. They offer connection, not conformity.
“Truth is one; the wise call it by many names.” — Rigveda 1.164.46
What If There’s Room for Both?
Psychedelics and religion aren’t enemies. They’re both searching for meaning. Both hold reverence for the unseen. What if, instead of conflict, they could collaborate?
Imagine a world where churches support psychedelic integration. Where sacred texts are read not as rules, but as invitations. Where science and spirit sit at the same table.
“Religion is a defense against a religious experience.” — Carl Jung
Will Religion Ever Accept This Path?
Let’s be honest—not all of it.
But religion is not just cathedrals and creeds. It’s people. And people evolve. One open-hearted conversation at a time.
“You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the old one obsolete.” — Buckminster Fuller
And if institutions resist?
The medicine still works.
The path remains open.
And the sacred keeps growing—quietly, wildly, everywhere.
Is This the Start of Something New?
Younger generations are asking deeper questions. They’re turning to experience over dogma. They’re seeking connection, healing, and truth—on their own terms.
They may not be walking away from spirituality.
They may just be walking back to it—with bare feet, open hearts, and mushrooms in their pack.
“We are the ancestors of the future. What we do now will echo for generations.” — Author unknown
This may not be the end of religion. It may be its rebirth.
A Final Word: From Me to You
I grew up in a religious family.
Church was our Sunday rhythm. We’d get dressed up, sit through service, and—if we behaved—stop at 7-Eleven for Slurpees on the way home.
Sometimes I wonder if it was the sermon that kept me coming back… or the blue raspberry brain freeze.
But underneath the rituals, I learned to associate goodness with obedience. And doubt—with danger.
Even now, after years of healing and growth through psychedelics, there’s a part of me that hesitates to speak openly.
I still feel that whisper:
What will my family think?
What will God think?
Am I risking my trip to heaven?
Sometimes I wonder if this guilt is divine intuition—or just the residue of a system designed to keep me tethered.
I don’t have all the answers. But I know this:
I’ve found healing here. Real, lasting, breath-in-my-body kind of healing.
I’ve seen others return to themselves too—gentler, more awake, more whole.
So yes, I fully believe in the healing power of psychedelics. I’ve lived it. I’ve built a community around it. I’ve offered it to others who needed it most.
And while I’m still untangling where I came from and where I’m headed, I feel cautiously hopeful—maybe even reverent—that this path is helping me connect to something bigger than myself.
Maybe that’s what heaven was meant to be all along.
And maybe… the Slurpees helped too.