You and Me and the Yin and Yang of Psychedelics
Psychedelics as Catalysts for Change, Part III of V
In our daily lives, we rarely encounter what is known as unity consciousness—a profound mystical experience where the boundaries of the self dissolve. This, along with other ego-transcending states, is uncommon because our day-to-day existence is deeply anchored in ego.
The ego, simply put, is that part of our consciousness that identifies "I" as a separate self, something distinct from everything else around us. It sees the self as the physical and psychological entity contained within our body, while everything external is perceived as “not I,” as the environment or the other.
This egoic identification is both necessary and limiting. On one hand, the ego serves an important evolutionary function. In a Darwinian sense, being able to distinguish oneself from the environment aids in survival. The ego ensures that the body with which we identify is protected, fed, sheltered, and kept out of harm’s way. It responds to threats—whether physical danger or emotional slights—with vigilance. It acts as a filter, constantly judging and reacting to the world to keep our self intact.
However, this same separation also creates a barrier between the individual and the rest of existence. It isn't just a physical separation. It’s a psycho-spiritual one, as well. When we are deeply identified with the ego (which is nearly always), it becomes difficult to empathize with or feel a sense of unity with others, let alone with nature or the cosmos.
Mystical experiences—whether accessed through deep meditation or through the use of psychedelics—offer a path to dissolve this ego, even if temporarily. They allow us to identify not just with our individual body and mind, but with all of life, even planet Earth and the universe itself.
A powerful symbol of this process is found in depictions of the Hindu god Shiva dancing on the head of a baby. The baby represents the immature ego, unaware of its true, expansive nature. Shiva’s dance signifies the transcendence of this limited self, pointing to a more inclusive and mature identity.
Death is the most extreme threat to self. Because the ego equates itself with the total self, the idea of its own end is terrifying. The ego cannot comprehend continued existence without itself. As a result, the process of ego dissolution—whether gradual or sudden—is often experienced as a kind of death, and it is frequently accompanied by fear. In meditation, this dissolution typically unfolds slowly, over years, with careful guidance and practice. Many spiritual traditions warn practitioners of the psychological risks involved, even with this gradual approach.
In contrast, psychedelics can provoke ego death far more abruptly. Within minutes, a person can be plunged into a state where the self as they know it disappears. This can be profoundly disorienting, even terrifying, especially if one is unprepared. As psychiatrists Gary Bravo and Charles Grob described it, “the terrain can be so discontinuous with normal, everyday consciousness that it may arouse fear in patients.”
Fear is often at the root of selfish and irrational behavior. While it is adaptive in certain contexts, like escaping a predator, it becomes problematic when directed at experiences that are not actually dangerous, such as the temporary loss of ego. Under the influence of psychedelics, individuals may momentarily merge with a vast, interconnected reality. Then, hours or even minutes later, they will be pulled back into their personal identity. But because the ego doesn’t understand that this loss of individualized self is temporary, it reacts as though the self is under existential threat, leading to discomfort, fear or even panic.
This is why the “set and setting” of a psychedelic or meditative experience is so crucial. “Set” refers to the mindset of the person—their intentions, mood, and preparation. “Setting” refers to the environment in which the experience takes place. If a person approaches psychedelics with a purely recreational mindset, hoping only for fun or escapism, they may find the sudden loss of control terrifying. A person unprepared for ego death may react in dangerous ways to themselves or others.
On the other hand, if the participant is well-prepared—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually—they are more likely to surrender to the experience. If they understand that fear may arise and are supported by knowledgeable guides, the experience is often less frightening and more rewarding. In this state of surrender, fear tends to fade, giving way to profound insight, emotional healing, and even bliss.
Equally important is the physical, interpersonal and cultural environment. A safe, calm, and supportive setting can drastically reduce the chances of a negative experience. Researchers have found that the presence of trained and compassionate guides—called sitters or monitors—can significantly improve the outcome of a psychedelic journey. These individuals help ground the participant, offering reassurance and counseling, and they keep the setting safe and nurturing.
However, in societies where psychedelics are illegal, the ideal set and setting are often compromised. The fear of arrest, social stigma, or legal consequences can weigh heavily on a person’s mind, increasing anxiety and reducing their ability to trust the experience. These fears are not just psychological; they’re rooted in the very real power of state institutions—police, laws, courts, and incarceration. Add to this the cultural rejection of altered states, and it's no surprise that some users have had what are called “bad trips,” especially in the 1960s and 70s, during the early years of psychedelic exploration in the West.
This stands in stark contrast to how psychedelics have been integrated into many traditional societies. In these cultures—the psychologist Neal Goldsmith notes—psychedelics are administered by shamans or healers—trusted, experienced members of the community who oversee the entire process. They prepare the substances themselves, determine proper dosages, and conduct the rituals in sacred, socially supported contexts. Friends, family, and community members may be present, and the experience is embedded within a cultural framework that understands and values mystical states of consciousness.
The society not only bodily and emotionally supports the ritual, but its worldview supports the mystical experience, as well. Participants are not battling cognitive dissonance between a materialistic paradigm and a spiritual revelation. They are immersed in a context that honors and integrates mystical insight.
This incongruence of the mystical experience with modern culture speaks to the current limitations of using psychedelics as a catalyst for cultural transformation. While their capacity to reliably induce ego dissolution and deeper states of awareness is a profound strength, our societies remain far from ready to support their widespread, intentional use.
We are likely decades away from establishing the cultural and institutional frameworks needed to facilitate societal-scale mystical experiences. Legal obstacles remain significant, and there is a shortage of qualified guides to support the millions of leaders, influencers, policymakers, and laypeople who will be essential in building fair and sustainable societies.