Of Open Doors and Floating Minds: A Breakdown of a Few of the Most Useful Psychedelic Clichés

Listen, maaaaan. I know we’re totally trippin’ out on some magic mushrooms and our third eyes are lit up like jack o’lanterns, but the screen doors of perception are letting the flies in, ya dig?

Yeah, the more we talk in abstract oohs and cosmic ahhs, the more we say “journey” followed by a forced cathartic sigh, the closer we get to saying nothing at all. But……….Clichés are clichés for a reason—they tend to cut through the haze and make a concept or feeling come alive in our minds. And they do it so well that we repeat the phrase a zillion times until it becomes so trite and untrue that we forget what the f*ck it meant in the first place. 

Yet, if we return to the original referent, that first divine utterance, I think you’ll agree that every cliché is worth a thousand words :) And while it’s easy to parody psychedelic nomenclature and its flower-powered pathos, the clichés in psilocybin therapy are more often than not fertile ground for exploration. 

If You See a Door, Open It

Let’s begin with a classic line that 97% of facilitators share with their clients during preparation. While it’s definitely a generic cliché, it speaks to a foundational principle of the psychedelic experience. It reminds us to cultivate an open and curious mind. It encourages us to throw fear and apprehension to the wayside and, ultimately, to trust the medicine.

It’s not as easy as it sounds, and this advice is more aspirational than a real-time course correction. It floats above us during preparation and helps us gradually regard the mushroom experience as a healing session rather than an unpredictable and turbulent ride. As we surface old wounds during preparation, we are excising the fear from behind the door. And once the medicine arrives, we’ve already sifted through the rubble of our suffering, so we can fling that door open and see what all the fuss is about. 

I’m Your Ground Control

I have this textured beaded rope thing that was among a friend’s belongings when she passed. It’s both tactile and long, and it’s the perfect prop to lay beside someone who’s dropping into a medicine session. I remind my clients to follow the mushrooms wherever they lead and that I’m their ground control. If things get a little too fast and furious, I ask them to grab the rope so they can feel me on the other end. 

The concept of ground control is another central tenet to preparation and often a reason why folks seek out legal, regulated psilocybin therapy. They want a facilitator in the corner to make them feel safe. As most of us are implicitly uncomfortable letting go, the idea that there’s someone back home on the reality ranch watching out for us can be both grounding and liberating.

You’re Not Falling, You’re Floating

Yeah, this is another psychedelic cliché that can help us re-contextualize a psychedelic experience. Especially during the peak of a journey, we can feel—despite the ground control—estranged from reality and overwhelmed by the strength of the mushrooms. While implicit trust in the medicine is a very good thing, we can find ourselves zipping through different timelines, memories and visuals that fear begins to take hold.

When we feel like we’re falling, not only do we forfeit the rope to hold onto, but we’re convinced that we’ll land—if we land—oh so far away from where we started. However, if we’re able to tweak that feeling and lean on our preparation, we will suddenly realize we’re floating. We’re not hurdling into a permanent abyss; nah, we’re still buoyed by the universe and have been given the privilege to see things in a different light. 

Psychedelic Spa Day

This one’s mine (I think!) and I hope it catches on with other facilitators. I always remind my clients that their journey date is their psychedelic spa day, and though it sounds a little contrived, it connotes a lot of essential things. First, it reminds us to go slow—I tell clients that we have the whole day at our disposal and that four hours will elapse in the blink of an eye. In order to honor ourselves and our decision to pursue this therapy, we are mandated to immerse ourselves in every moment.

Speaking of self-advocacy, a spa day implies essential maintenance and personal indulgence. As the culminating event after a rigorous preparation process, it feels deserved.  Finally, it encourages folks to ask for things. Do they need another blanket? Do they need a hug? Do they need a glass of water? Do they need a particular dinner from their person? Psilocybin therapy requires abdication and humility, two things that are hard to discard. Through the lens of this cliché, however, maybe just maybe, we take a day off for ourselves. 

Got any psychedelic clichés up your tie-dyed sleeves? Let me know.