Neuroplastic Fantastic: What happens to your brain after a psilocybin journey?
Some call it exquisite. Others sublime. It’s been described as a vibrant tinge, a rainbow halo, a bouncy lilt, an overcoat of joy. I’m talking about what many folks refer to as the post-mushroom glow or if you want to get nerdy about it, increased neuroplasticity. I wanted to take some time and sorta walk you through what this vigorous current of brain activity means in context with psychedelic therapy and why the first 4 weeks after your journey are, in many ways, more critical than the trip itself.
What happens when a millennia of anecdotal data teams up with neuroimaging and brain research? We get a Voltron of evidence that gives us a decent idea what might be happening in our brains during the aftermath of a mushroom trip. While more studies are always needed, we can say pretty confidently that mushrooms introduce a little controlled chaos into our brains. You know those patterns of thought that influence our behaviours, reinforced by years and years of repetition and routine? Magic mushrooms disrupt, shun and deemphasize that rigid organization. They flip the desk over, so to speak. And once all the contents of the drawers—your childhood, fears, pain, joy, pride, self-perception, dreams, anxieties, habits—tumble out onto the carpet, you can start from scratch and regard all this “life stuff” in a whole new light.
What Is Neuroplasticity?
Before I break it down theoretically, let me offer up a link to a decent study that gets a little more granular about this neuroplastic stuff.
Through a therapeutic lens, we can see this as an opportunity and reconciliation. Most of us have developed habits and addictions that we desperately want to modify. By permitting the mushrooms entry to our bodies, we are gifted with a new perspective, and we often come away with tangible tools to combat chronic conditions.
From a layman’s standpoint, we might interpret this mechanism as the great disruptor. Our brains organically want to minimize pain; if something threatens us, we want to exile that idea, thought or memory far from our day-to-day ruminations, so we can function like “normal” humans. As a result, we tune ourselves to safer rhythms and we often don’t notice the injury until we intentionally carve out space to inspect it. With increased neuroplasticity, we’re exposed to the stuff the denmother didn’t want us to see. For some of us, this peek behind the curtain offers insight and liberation.
Both perspectives ultimately tell the same story. Mushrooms suppress the part of the brain that influences behavior and assigns meaning; once we invite the mushrooms in, dormant neural pathways light up and audit what we think we’ve always known.
Welcome to the Psychedelic Afterparty
Okay, but why is this brain stuff so important after the drug wears off? Once we get ample rest of our psilocybin journey, the afterglow begins to flicker like a neon sign. The gratitude and catharsis granted by the journey are palpable, like how you swear you can still taste that bite of burnt basque cheesecake a week after that ethereal slice.
This phenomenon is a direct result of the disruption of the mushroom journey, and that’s the beautiful thing about this therapy. You take the drug, immerse yourself in profound experience, and then you flutter back down into your ordinary world. But unlike other substances, you are granted this neuroplastic runway to leverage your insight before you officially land. Keep in mind, it’s not like you’re still tripping for 4 weeks. You are smack dab in an ordinary state of consciousness. You can operate heavy machinery if the muse compels you. But your brain is in a state of flux. Those barely used neural pathways are still glowing and those rigid ways of thinking that determine who you are and how you behave are still muzzled by the mushrooms.
For those of us looking for insight into chronic conditions, this is the ideal time to break some habits, try some new things, and firm up the foundations of the big pillars of truth that emerged during your trip. While some might feel it in bursts of creativity, renewed energy or even an elevated calm, in general the afterglow is a state of curiosity, confidence and heightened awareness.
There’s sorta two paths that emerge here. One that’s pretty scripted and the other more whimsical. Folks actively looking for ways to modify their habits and routines should script new wrinkles into their days. While it can feel a bit transactional, these resolutions are essentially ways to honor the learnings from your journey. During this window of neuroplasticity, we often sort out what resonates and what doesn’t, and we move forward a little more balanced and more in tune with our core selves. For example, we might start learning an instrument during this creative phase, and realize that actively making and creating things is a behavior we need to nurture.
The other path is a little more adventurous. We go after archetypes and embrace the staggering minutia of our everyday lives. Or we grab the torch and run with it. We may have learned during the journey that our substance use problem actively dishonors the mind and body, and we just plain old don’t feel the need to pick up the bottle again.
What Do I Do When Neuroplasticity Fades?
As you already know if you made it this far, neuroplasticity doesn’t last forever. Your brain will eventually revert to its regularly scheduled program, and that golden halo above your head will lose a little luster. Does this mean the trip was all a mirage? That the profound wisdom from the journey is just a shallow another shallow aphorism?
Nope. Full stop. It just means you’ll need to actively leverage the lessons to get that glow back. And lucky for you, you spent the four weeks after your journey reveling in joy, gratitude and creativity while cementing a few pillars of truth upon which to rest and rejuvenate. The torch is still there. You just have to light it and walk into the dark.