10 APRIL 20-26, 2023 westword.com WESTWORD | MUSIC | CAFE | CULTURE | NIGHT+DAY | NEWS | LETTERS | CONTENTS | Within two years, he estimates, he’d taken part in about twenty of the group rituals. “They were really for my own healing, as I was looking to discover something more — whatever that was for me — and fi lling the emptiness I had inside with purpose, mean- ing and connection. I had no intention of getting into this line of work at all,” he recalls. Yet that’s where Eshleman and many new psychedelic-friendly facilitators and thera- pists fi nd themselves in Colorado, where interest in psychedelic medicine is explod- ing after voters passed a groundbreaking measure legalizing medical psilocybin in November. Just as the state saw a green rush after the passage of Amendment 64 legalized recreational marijuana in late 2012, they see a similar boom mushrooming out of the legalization of psilocybin. Before healing centers and swanky mushroom mountain retreats can take off, however, state regulators and elected offi cials have a lot of work to do. Policymakers and organized medicine are just catching up, but people have been using psychedelics for commu- nity gatherings, religious ceremonies and healing purposes for centuries. Sects of Judaism have scripture con- nections and mushroom sacraments dating back thousands of years. An- cient Greeks and Romans took part in religious rites that included the in- gestion of a psychoactive drink called kykeon, which contained a psychedelic fungus with properties similar to those of LSD. According to 2021 research published in the medical journal Cul- ture, Medicine, and Psychiatry, psyche- delic use in rituals has been associated with Indigenous tribes and cultures around the world, “from the Americas, to Eurasia, to Australia, and Africa.” After the fl ower-power movement of the ’60s (which included a major LSD lab in Denver), American inter- est in psychedelic mushrooms started growing again in the late 2010s, thanks largely to the work of mycologist and mushroom entrepreneur Paul Stamets and science au- thor Michael Pollan. Their documentaries and literary works exposed the public to the mental health benefi ts of mushrooms, includ- ing non-psychoactive varieties such as lion’s mane, reishi and turkey tail, which are all now part of a growing and lucrative supplement industry based on fungi. The United States Food and Drug Ad- ministration designated psilocybin as a breakthrough therapy in 2019, clearing the way for federally approved trials of the drug. In 2022, Johns Hopkins University research determined that psilocybin could serve as a “substantial antidepressant” for up to a year for some patients when paired with supportive therapy. Psychedelics such as methyl enedioxy methamphetamine (MDMA) and psilocybin have shown therapeutic promise for post- traumatic stress disorder as well, with both drugs becoming increasingly popular among military veterans with combat trauma. Colorado’s connection to psychedelic reform is young but powerful. Still riding high off its status as the fi rst major city to decriminalize cannabis, Denver became the fi rst city in the United States to decriminalize psilocybin mushrooms in 2019, laying the groundwork for statewide action. In November 2022, Colorado voters fol- lowed Oregon in making this the second state in the country to approve a psilocybin legalization initiative. In addition to legal- izing medical psilocybin, Proposition 122 decriminalized the personal cultivation, use and sharing of psilocybin as well as DMT, ibogaine and mescaline, with the last three up for review for potential medical legaliza- tion in 2026. Even before Prop 122 passed, Eshleman was working as an unlicensed psychedelic facilitator; in the wake of Denver’s vote to decriminalize psilocybin, he established the Center of All Directions, which specializes in “psilocybin guiding, psychedelic harm reduction & transformational coaching,” according to its website. He’s seen upwards of 130 people over the past three years, Eshleman estimates, helping to treat mental health symptoms such as anxi- ety, depression and terminal grief. Clients from college students to eighty-year-old women to entire families have undergone his sessions, taking 3.5 to 6 grams of mushrooms before spending up to eight hours doing therapy work with Eshleman in their homes. Eshleman currently works with mush- rooms because of their recent legalization and the relative ease with which people can ac- quire or cultivate them on their own. Screen- ing sessions and followups are part of the package; he charges for the sessions but not the psilocybin mushrooms, if his clients need them. After three macrodose and therapy ses- sions, he encourages his clients to microdose with 0.1 to 0.3 grams every other day. Research has supported psilocybin’s abil- ity to spur neuroplasticity, or new or changing activity in the brain in response to trauma. The majority of psilocybin therapy focuses on relatively large doses of multiple grams — known as a hero’s dose, or macrodosing — followed by hours of therapy. Microdos- ing, the consumption of small amounts of psilocybin (not intended for a psychedelic experience), has become a popular form of self-medication for daily mental wellness as well, though reports of microdosing benefi ts are more anecdotal than data-driven. Music is an important element of “hold- ing space,” or conducting a psychedelic fa- cilitation, Eshleman notes. Johns Hopkins researchers created a specifi c playlist for such sessions, and there are musicians who make music geared to psychedelic experiences. Eshleman says he’s borrowed from the Johns Hopkins playlist and seeks out similar instru- mentals and soft melodies for his sessions. “The most effective way of utilizing what I would call the macrodose experience is to have the big experience that creates a lot of neuroplasticity and then support it daily with that neuroplasticity enhancement from microdosing. It really does support these jour- neys,” he explains. “The music is a huge piece of ceremonial containers. It’s a mixture of live and recorded music, chanting and being led through the exploration of consciousness and our lives, with the medicine as the backdrop.” As evidenced by the work at Johns Hop- kins, psilocybin therapy is becoming increas- ingly popular in academic and even clinical spaces. While Johns Hopkins is considered a leader in university courses on the topic, a handful of medical schools and higher-learn- ing institutions across the country are now offering psychedelic studies. Massachusetts General Hospital, the University of California, New York University and the University of Wisconsin have all recently launched psyche- delic research or therapy training programs. Although professors at the University of Colorado are currently leading a study in psilocybin treatment for depressed end-of- life patients, none of the major universities in Colorado currently offers certifi cation or training programs for psychedelic therapy. But Naropa University, a private college in Boulder founded on Buddhist beliefs, began planning its Center for Psychedelic Studies and Psychedelic-Assisted Therapies Certifi - cate program about three years ago to address rising interest, according to university presi- dent Charles Lief. The 200-hour, nine-month graduate program had 130 students during its inaugural year in 2022, and Lief plans to expand into more psychedelic programs and undergraduate offerings. The school focuses on contemplative mindfulness and compassion practices, and psychedelics have become a popular part of that. “We’re not going to do the sci- ence research,” Lief notes. “That’s not what Naropa is, but we’re strong in train- ing programs. And if this fi eld goes anywhere, it’s going to need strong and trained practitioners.” According to the Multidisci- plinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS), one of North Amer- ica’s largest nonprofi ts that advocates for and develops psychedelic therapy practices, the U.S. will see a need for 100,000 trained psychedelic facilita- tors over the next ten years. While therapists, doctors, social workers, nurse practitioners and chaplains have all enrolled in Naropa’s psy- chedelics course, Lief says that the fi eld “is never going to grow” if only people with clinical degrees are al- lowed to participate. “I don’t think someone in those spiritual communities should be forced into a lane to become a li- censed therapist. They don’t hold themselves as therapists, nor should they need to, and what they do is to- tally legitimate,” Lief says. “If you’re talking about outside of that com- munity, these underground folks, then what are they saying they’re doing? If they’re talking therapy, then what does that really look like? What happens in between the sessions is as critical as the sessions themselves.” Eshleman, who doesn’t have a degree in mental health and whose program does not have a religious connotation, falls some- where between clinical and spiritual work. While he learned from his own ayahuasca healer, borrows from various mental health fi elds and “can talk the talk with psychology,” his methods “don’t fi t one form in particular,” he says. This line of work found him — and so do most of his clients. “It wasn’t until about two years of sitting in those ceremonies, when I was invited to co-facilitate one with my teacher,” he recalls. “There was a lot of hesitation on my end, because I had impostor syndrome. I kept thinking, ‘Who am I to be doing this work and guiding people?’ Eventually, I agreed, and it felt purposeful.” Immersing himself in psychedelic healing, Eshleman was soon co-leading ayahuasca ceremonies. Other people interested in at- tending or even leading ceremonies asked him for advice, and he would spend hours in coffee shops answering their questions. He fi nally began charging Psychedelics continued from page 9 continued on page 12 James Eshleman was in the fi nance industry before becoming a psychedelic facilitator. Now that medicinal psilocybin has been legalized, his new line of work is under the microscope. EVAN SEMÓN
