The Illusion of the Seeker and the Role of Psychedelics Healing

Uno spazio dove non ti viene chiesto nulla. Nessuna domanda, nessuna chat, nessun giudizio. Solo essere. In a world that feels like an aggressive roar, where social interaction feels like wearing a mask and constant overstimulation leaves the body-mind exhausted, we often find ourselves looking for an exit. We look for a way to fix the "separate self" that feels broken or incomplete. We are told that there are paths to follow, journeys to take, and mountains to climb to find peace. But what if there is nowhere to go? What if the peace we crave is not a destination, but the very fabric of what is already here? There is much talk lately about psychedelics healing as a tool for spiritual growth. People seek out substances like ayahuasca or LSD, hoping to see behind the curtain. And it is true that these substances induce experiences that are difficult to encounter otherwise. They can suspend the conceptual and linguistic processes that usually govern our day. Suddenly, the labels we use to navigate the world—the lamp, the book, the box—dissolve. You see things radically differently because the "separate self" isn't there to categorize every color and shape. It is a moment where the defense mechanisms of the body-mind might drop, allowing unconscious symbols and deep emotions to emerge. But we must ask ourselves: who is it that is having this experience? And does an experience, no matter how profound, actually change what you are? These experiences are just that—experiences. They are electrochemical alterations of the brain, just like waking, dreaming, or deep sleep. We have a prejudice in our culture that the waking state is the only "real" reality, and everything else—dreams, meditative states, or drug-induced visions—are merely "altered" or "distorted." Yet, modern neuroscience tells us that our normal perception is just as much of a construction as any hallucination. It is a filtered version of reality built for survival, ignoring the totality of what is. Taking a substance might make you feel better in the moment; it might offer a "hallucinosis" where you see things and know they aren't there, allowing you to observe the workings of your own psyche without being swallowed by them. This can be useful for the body-mind to integrate traumas or understand its own functioning. But it is not a ladder to enlightenment. There is no ladder. Whether you are seeing green aliens on the wall or staring at a plain white ceiling, the absolute is equally present in both. One state is not "higher" than the other. They are all just waves on the same ocean. Does a wave become more like the ocean because it is taller or more colorful? It already is the ocean. We often imagine that waking up is like being hit with a bucket of water—one moment you are dry, the next you are soaking wet, and you know exactly when it happened.