On Context and Psychosis

On Context and Psychosis
Photo by Alice Guardado / Unsplash

This article is going to build on Cults of Rebirth, a prior article. While this article is legible on its own, I do recommend going back and reading or re-reading that one before beginning in order to glean the greatest context for the concepts I lay out in this article.

In several instances throughout the life of this publication, I have made vague allusion to the fact that there is a kind of orientation to spiritual practice that is quite likely to lead to personal harm, though as of yet I've really not taken the time to discuss this further, aside from a brief footnote in one post alluding to a personal situation with a friend.

While I am not the person, generally, to harp on or fear monger about "danger", it is true that I have seen harm come to not only one, but more than a handful of people in either my own circle or tangential circles throughout my own journey into Practice. Because elements of our culture, including social media and (relatively) new LLM chatbots, seem to exacerbate some of the pre-existing risk factors for someone seeking Practice to end up instead finding themselves in a hellscape of personal psychosis, it warrants a deeper discussion. Perhaps as you read you will recognize yourself described in the kind of precipice that we outline, or perhaps you will recognize that someone you know and care for is teetering on that same edge. Hopefully neither are true, and you will simply find yourself armed with a kind of perspective on Practice that conveys, in some way, something useful. With this pretext set, let's begin.

First, a note on "psychosis"

I would be remiss to dive into this discussion without first explaining that when I say "psychosis" in this context, I am not necessarily upholding the term as it is used in conjunction with hegemonic and carceral states. For the history of so-called "mental health" services in the United States and beyond is rife with the reality of the silencing of political or spiritual dissidents, and the control of the bodies of the marginalized. The word "psychosis" in the psychiatric sense is of such a vague definition as to be extremely useful for such a state: defining psychosis as being characterized by a "break from reality" perhaps including "abnormal behavior, delusions, or hallucinations".

By this definition, any spiritual experience, ritual work, or even perhaps politically liberatory "delusion" is evidence of psychotic behavior, and so we must proceed in use of this word with caution.

When I say psychosis in this article, then, I am going to be describing a specific experience which I have witnessed numerous times: a hellish experience characterized by emotional turmoil wherein the person experiencing it finds themselves unable to escape thought patterns, visual or auditory experiences, or emotional states that make them incapable of basic physiological regulation or maintaining relationships with their community of support.

When we define psychosis in this way, rather than using the DSM-V definition, we now refuse to attempt to distinguish between "delusion" and the potentially genuine spiritual experience of, say, "possession". This is not because there isn't in some cases a distinction, but because it is extremely difficult to make that distinction without being in deep relation with the person having the experience. Perhaps what someone is experiencing is "auditory hallucinations" or perhaps they are genuinely experiencing harassment by a disincarnate being or inescapable dread related to ritual work gone wrong – in my experience it doesn't often actually do the person going through the experience any good to attempt to "materialize" or "rationalize" what they are experiencing[1].

On context and the cultivation of reality

When we speak of "context" in a literary sense, it is the words and phrases preceding and following a given word or phrase that allow us to glean not only the denotation, or literal definition of that word or phrase, but the connotation of that word or phrase. This is important because as speakers of a language, we understand that we don't always use words to mean exactly what Merriam-Webster says they mean, because language is always evolving and also because poetic choice may lead us to cultivate irony, sarcasm, metaphor, and so on.

Expanding the concept of context to human experience, then, we are now describing what comes before and after a given human's experience in a given moment. We are describing the likelihood that a given experience means a certain thing: what is the cultural pretext for an experience? What is the language this person understands, both symbolically and lexically? What is the class context, or how does socioeconomic placement within culture alter experiential connotation, or the potential for having a given experience at all? What tools are in place for someone to synthesize a given experience into a broader story, into their own perceived identity?

Context is important because when we lack the tools for synthesizing a mystical or ecstatic experience, or when we lack the pretext for understanding the use of or appearance of symbols, or when we misidentify ourselves within an experience, we are likely to begin to experience a break with our own identity or the relationships we have with our community or communities. Context also defines what kinds of practice may or may not be likely to lead to personal or communal harm, and which are most likely to produce the desired results; and so is a valuable thing to examine when being introduced or introducing one's own self to new forms of spiritual practice. It is perhaps unpopular to say in our society, which seems to exalt the kind of global transmission of ideas and free adoption of any that "feel" good in the moment[2]; but there probably are forms of practice that are inherently dangerous to any given one of us, because we lack the contextual basis for involving ourselves within them.

On drugs

We unfortunately cannot have the full discussion of psychosis or out-of-context spiritual experience without naming an enormous multi-colored elephant in the room: drugs.

One of the things that I find in common with more than half of the people I've witnessed spiral into psychosis due to certain kinds of spiritual practice is the use of drugs to invoke mystical or ecstatic states. This may be, in part, due to where I currently live: we have a phrase here called "California sober" and it's a description of someone who quit "hard" drugs: heroin, cocaine, a severely disabling alcohol habit; and now smokes a lot of cannabis and does psilocybin mushrooms periodically and calls themselves "sober". There are also enormous quantities of people who never developed a "hard" drug habit but for whom smoking cannabis and using psilocybin or LSD (or DMT or any other flavor of psychedelic substance) is the habit, though they still purport themselves to be "sober". Perhaps this is less common where you live, but here this is extraordinarily normal to encounter.

There is a huge risk, though, that comes from the simultaneous entry into spiritual circles (i.e: adoption of New Age belief systems, introduction into the world of Thelema, attempting to begin a practice of witchcraft, a deep dive into Western occultism or ceremonial magick[3]) and the adoption of psychedelic drugs – especially in a habitual way – as an entrypoint into any one of these practices.

Furthermore, beyond the unfortunate risks of excessive psychedelic use combined with brand-new introduction to systems which purport the user's "personal power" and "ability to manipulate the universe" could lead to megalomaniacal delusions that are extremely harmful to those around you, there is the bare fact (that also doesn't make me any friends to say out loud) that some people have no basis or language for using certain substances[4].

A good example is ayahuasca[5]. This is a substance with incredibly strong physiological and psychological effects: its pharmacology is complex and differs regionally based on the specific species or cultivar of plants that are used to make the drink. It is a substance for which use has evolved over many millennia, passed down through cultural and oral history which is combined with myth that describes and sanctions its use only where guided by a clan ayahuascuero and only for specific, culturally contextualized purposes. It speaks in a language that is beyond that which those of us outside of these cultures can truly understand, as is evidenced (not to me, but to those from those cultures who critique the use of their medicine by outsiders) by the way that outsiders who undergo imbibing in its use describe their experiences. This is not to say that no one outside of Indigenous Amazonian cultures who has used ayahuasca has gleaned positive results from its use, but that those results are not contextualized. The harm to those who struggle to synthesize their experience can be great, and the positive results for those who've managed to somehow adapt this ultimately foreign experience into their daily lives are produced largely by those people's own psyche: as is evidenced, for instance, by the fact that those people are capable of then continuing to engage in the industrial-colonial machine that is destroying the land and culture that this extremely potent plant-combination relies on for transmission of its knowledge. The very people for whom ayahuasca is a sacred guide would (and have, when given the chance) derided those ayahuascueros who initiate the uninitiatable for profit, and assert that there is no way for outsiders to truly understand the knowledge of their medicine.

This is a relevant example, especially because DMT is synthesized and used often by those in the US and beyond seeking a "spiritual experience" beyond what psilocybin or amanita muscaria or other more regionally or culturally appropriate[6] plant guides are capable of offering them. While synthetic DMT overcomes the culturally appropriative considerations of ayahuasca use, I am convinced through the experiences of those around me that there is absolutely no way for anyone in our modern, globalized culture who does not come from a distinct lineage of either DMT or 5-MEO-DMT (the primary psychoactive components of ayahuasca and Bufo alveris, among other naturally derived medicines) usage to appropriately synthesize DMT usage into meaningful spiritual practice. The only success I've seen comes from those whose lineage uses DMT or 5-MEO-DMT and though the source for use was synthetic, body-memory seemed to play a role in what that substance told the person using it, and still, this was not consistent or habitual use, but rather one or two controlled sessions of use within a constructed ritual context, though the ritual likely did not perfectly mirror that of the person's ancestors.

Continuing: the birth of psychosis

Now, in an effort to bring these perhaps seemingly disparate concepts together, let's begin to discuss the experience of psychosis as related to spiritual practice outside of context.

Perhaps a good place to begin, however, is a description of what contextualized spiritual practice looks like.

Imagine, for a moment, that you have grown up surrounded by generations of people who practice a given religion. This may not be difficult to imagine for anyone who grew up Christian or Catholic in the US or most of Europe (or much of the colonized world, for that matter), so let's use this example.

What does that look like? There are certain symbols you take for granted, and which you can generalize and apply to different situations without thinking about it: for instance, angel symbolism is prevalent in Christianized peoples' lives, and represents "good", "benevolence", "protection", "the army of God", and so on. These symbols are innate and unconscious, almost like they are stamped on your brain: things that are angel-like evoke the same emotional state and conceptual understanding as more literal artistic representations of angels. The art of that religion makes sense to you: you can, whether you consider yourself a Christian or not, go to a museum and begin to dissect the symbolism of any art related to Christianity (or inspired by it) without necessarily needing a deep historical understanding of the artist's time period or what they believed specifically. You share a language with every other person who has grown up in a Catholicized or Christianized culture: you can use the metaphors of the devil and God and Jesus, of crucifixion and resurrection; either poetically, ironically, sardonically, positively, etc. and everyone who has also grown up in this context will understand what you are saying and the metaphorical significance of your word choice. The sounds of certain music will evoke certain emotional states based on their proximity to the kinds of music used in a church, and ditto for certain incenses (if you're Catholic), sounds (like the way clothing rustles in an echoey church), movements (kneeling, standing; again for Catholics only), icons (rosaries, crucifix jewelry, etc.), and so on.

All of this to say: you are initiated into a symbolic language, and moreover you're educated on the theology and philosophical considerations of this religion in a kind of innate way: counter to any philosophical education you may have layered on top of these experiences, no one ever had to really "teach" you in detail what the theological and philosophical ramifications of Christian or Catholic thought were, because such a deep embedding into its language is enough for this knowledge to be implicit. Further, if you continue to practice this religion you are surrounded and socially supported by people who understand the exact behaviors that are related to being a part of this religion. You are supported in, say, going to church, or praying before eating and blessing your food. You are supported with the language of this religion when you are going through a personal crisis. If you start to experience something strange, hearing voices, perhaps you have the language of miracles and your community will support you in "listening to God", and ground you in that reality[7].

It makes sense, then, if this is your context, that if you start having deep spiritual experiences, hearing voices, engaging in fasting or deep prayer, and connecting more deeply with facets of your religion that you would not likely be derided as a lunatic by the other practitioners of your religion. This is not to say that no one would say "wow, who knew so-and-so would ever become so devout", or otherwise be surprised, but that because you all speak the same spiritual language, if you say things like "my guardian angel was really looking out for me" or "I feel so connected to Jesus", it's unlikely you're going to feel like these things are delusions, or that you're going crazy, and it is pretty unlikely that the people around you will treat you that way.

This is contextualized spiritual practice. This is practice which is and will continue to be supported socially, by the people around you who understand you and your background and how you fit in the grand scheme of the universe. There is always something to come back to when making big decisions. There is always an understanding of the rules of engagement. This is why lots of people who go through the kind of motions of spiritual seeking after distancing themselves from a major religion often return to that religion in old age, or after a major life crisis: it makes sense to them in a way that nothing else does, or perhaps can. There's comfort, there's social support.

However, let's now make this a little more oriented towards those of us who are likely reading this. Let's imagine that you grew up passively Christian, but it never really "stuck". Perhaps your parents are devout, perhaps they were just going through the motions, but either way, that never spoke to you and perhaps the institution of Christianity actively caused you harm. As an adult, though, there's something missing in your life, and you feel disconnected. You peruse the spiritual sections of bookstores once in a while out of curiosity, and at some point something just completely grabs your interest and you start reading something like "High Magick" by Damien Echols or "Modern Magick" by Donald Michael Kraig. You start working through the rituals, and for a while it's just a kind of silly thing you do but you like it, and you like the way it makes you feel, but eventually you start to really feel it.

Now, first of all, there are shared symbols here between this hypothetical person's Christian upbringing and Western occultism. Most of the symbols used in Western occultism are biblical, the language used for many of the chants and rituals is Hebrew, and there is a lot of general linguistic overlap if not genuine theological overlap. This is, perhaps, a good reason for someone who was raised Christian or in a Christianized culture to consider experimenting within Western occult traditions first, because at least there is a grounding in language and symbology if nothing else. However, what crucially changes is social support. Let's assume that this person doesn't find an order, or a mentor, and let's assume that perhaps their enthusiasm for all of these rigorous rituals wanes. Perhaps they begin to dabble in the less rigorous world of chaos magick or Thelema or something similar, and perhaps they increasingly are or feel isolated and different than those around them. Their socially constructed reality has been unraveled, and now they're free to construct their own. This is empowering until it's not. Human beings are constructed for interdependence, and despite aspirations to the contrary, don't often truly thrive in total cultural isolation. The result of this break can be devastating: what happens when a personal crisis hits and the carefully constructed world lacks guidance for handling such a blow? Or when experimentation turns dark, and the person lacks the capacity for grounding their experiences in any kind of narrative that makes any sense? What grounds this person's behavior if they now are constructing a world of their own where other people may or may not be seen as, well, other people? Where the central theme of the entire reality is the personal power and separateness or specialness of the person constructing it? How do you think that it looks when this person then turns to drugs as well, and there is no way for them to really ground the experiences they're having or "come back" from them, so to speak? There are myriad more minor potential ill effects of this, of course, but those fall a little out of scope of this discussion.

Whether a hypothetical person breaks from a named tradition or not, there are still some risk factors for entering into a state of psychosis (lots of people who avoid their childhood religion and start practicing anything in the canon of Western occultism are probably, as a generalization, already somewhat distant or alienated from their communities of support or feel more isolated in general[8]), but in my experience when there are rules of engagement – doing banishing rituals before beginning a ceremony, doing a significant amount of meditation or "spiritual sustenance" work before actual spellwork, etc. – and a language that is still legible to the person engaged in the new Practice, a total break with their reality and community of support is less likely. Additionally, this person is still a part of a tradition even if they never find the other practitioners in real life. There are generations upon generations of knowledge and experiential writings to draw from for guidance.

The further we get from structure and our own cultural embedding, however, the more likely we are to experience critical breaks in reality and relation, unless we have measures in place to ground us. Pagan reconstructionists occasionally find deep connection with their ancestral past or their historical past in their practice, and in this way ameliorate some of the wounds caused by their grandparents or great-grandparents' forced conversion to Christianity or colonization more generally. Those who re-embed themselves in their Indigenous religion to varying degrees encounter the same. Some neo-pagans are able to ground themselves in a deep connection with the land itself and the cycles therein. Still others join covens, communities, and so on. Ultimately, when we retain some semblance of the reality that is in consensus with those around us, or with that which is in consensus with the land under our feet, we avoid the pitfalls of constructing our own isolated "world", wherein any and all regulating factors to our own behavior fall away and leave us adrift in our own experiences with no way to integrate them into the narratives of our lives and those of those around us.

Now another factor comes into play that I feel we must discuss: social media.

Perhaps our hypothetical person finds their interest through books that ground them in language, ritual, rules; but what if they find their new religious interest on TikTok instead? What if their only understanding of this thing that they say they practice is what they see "witchtok" influencers performing on the internet? Let's assume that this hypothetical person does feel a little alienated, perhaps their peer group is superficial or ephemeral or nonexistent. Perhaps it's rooted in upping the ante on one another on social media. Perhaps it's all about taking aesthetic pictures for Instagram, or getting together and doing progressively more sensational rituals involving blood, seance, and so on and so forth. Perhaps their only peer group is a Mastodon server, or the people they interact with on whatever other platform.

How do we think that it influences the construction of an isolated world, perceived to be irresponsible for actions in the world "everyone else" exists in if this hypothetical person is also soliciting advice or having in-depth discussions with ChatGPT, or Claude, or whatever LLM fills the void of having legitimate human relationships that would otherwise regulate the rewiring of their psyche throughout this process of spiritual experimentation? I would certainly make the argument that the risk factors that make spirituality potentially harmful to someone are very much the same or quite similar as those that lead to people becoming addicted to LLM chatbots or experiencing what psychiatrists are now calling "AI psychosis". When someone is both going down a spiritual rabbithole spurred on by isolation, social media, drugs, etc. and engaging with these LLMs that we know prey on those who feel isolated or adrift, they are certainly fighting a losing battle.

Now, none of the behaviors I'm describing – finding a new spiritual practice and learning about it, using LLMs, using drugs in a ritual context, or even separating from a community of support that was perhaps not entirely supportive – are inherently dangerous on their own, assuming that the behaviors one takes are grounded in something, preferably within the context of other human beings who can say "you seem like you're going too far, are you still Practicing according to our guidelines? Are you considering our intent?" and so on. But even when performed alone, if a person's actions are grounded in a lineage of rules and guidelines, and a language that person can trace to a broader cultural context, there seems to be a general capability to truly benefit from Practice rather than come to or cause harm.

However, let's consider that for many, many people (perhaps most) in these proverbial spiritual spaces, the reality is a coalescence of social media algorithms, the pressure to use drugs to shortcut spiritual discipline and have sensational ecstatic experiences or to feel legitimately connected to that something they've been searching for; and a total lack of social cohesion or supportive peer groups. This is the exact coalescence of events that I see with relative frequency leading to the destruction of brilliant minds, the loss of self-within-community in a spiraling out of ego aspiration and a complete inability to come back to determine what is real and what is generated, what is spiritually sustaining and what feels good because it is socially validating within a social context that commodifies the sensational and derides the truly interconnected, yet at the same time speaks of being the very force that leads to connectedness. It is almost a wonder that more of us are not burning out in a hellfire of internal suffering, a kind of induced schizophrenia, unable to connect with anything real or to determine what that even means.

Because the fact of the matter is that most of us are operating and Practicing outside of geneological context, that most of us are seeking ground to stand on, ground upon which we can build Practice that genuinely sustains us in the midst of a world which is controlled and coerced by the very same religious language that we know: for many of us, the only religious language we will ever really be socialized into and have context for. But the reality is also that we face more barriers, it seems, to cultivating something real than to spiraling; falling for hype and "occulture" and "witchy vibes" and turning our pursuit of the development of a real Practice within which to operate and attain to the fulfillment of Work into superficial, sensational performance that does nothing but fill the coffers of capitalism: the very potential for Practice has been commodified. Where do we go from here?

Rebuilding context

In Cults of Rebirth, I introduce this concept of cultivating context in an effort to build the kind of spiritual infrastructure for communal Practice, with the intention of setting the stage to rebuild the infrastructure of community.

It appears almost evident that one of the reasons why there is such an epidemic, if you can call it that, of people who are so socially isolated and spiritually adrift, and a lesser but still significant amount of people for whom this is coalescing into the annihilation of their capability for true Work (and perhaps life) is because the context that many of us were born into is actively hostile to anything else. Despite its Christian wrapper, outside of some specifically devout Christian or Muslim or Mormon or insert-other-major-world-religion subcultures[9], the ideals of rationality rein supreme. There is almost no room outside of general moral performance for legitimate, connected spiritual practice without inviting at least some degree of social isolation and ostracization – and at the more extreme, incarceration due to perceived mental illness.

And yet, rationality fails us time and time again, and for centuries. Each time we attempt to cultivate the fabric of societies, name their structure, and incentivize collaboration, without the bonds that were once formed of a shared theology or cosmic philosophy, we fail. Either we fall apart or fall into authoritarianism: I cannot name an example of a society that has not followed this path where an intact religion or cultural spiritual practice is not present. There is more at stake than our own benefit when it comes to cultivating context, rebuilding a new spiritual system or systems that we can legitimately believe in and share with one another, in building a new culture upon which we can build the sub-societies that will hopefully persist beyond the fall or dissolution of the current paradigm[10].


This is an odd post, perhaps, and I'm certain there may have been better ways to organize it to make it a little more cohesive. There are also moments I could have omitted to make it a little more brief, readable, or relatable, but it felt really important to lay things out this way, and to be brutally honest about the experiences I continue to have with people who simply should not be suffering the way that they are. At the same time, the first time I sat down to write this I attempted to write a general, anonymized narrative of one such situation, but couldn't bring myself to even give that much detail about those close to me.

So if you made it this far, thank you, and I would love to hear any feedback you have on this particular topic. Thank you for reading, until next time ~


A final footnote: what's the difference between spiritual psychosis and drug psychosis?

I didn't really want to write about this, but because I mention that the use of specifically, and most often, psychedelic drugs as an addition to a new, ungrounded spiritual practice is a risk factor for the kind of psychosis I discuss in this article, I think I need to make a quick distinction between the psychosis I'm talking about and so-called "drug-induced psychosis". I'll try to be brief.

First of all, because we're inserting our own definition of the word psychosis and somewhat altering the psychiatric definition of that word, it feels more apt to discuss drug use as a specific risk factor and not its own cause of psychosis. However, there is, admittedly, a fine line between the kind of psychosis that emerges as a result of spiritual practice that cannot be integrated into narrative or cultural context and which therefore leads to a destructive rift between the reality that has been constructed and a person's experiences and the kind of psychosis that emerges as a result of excessive drug use which has nearly the same effect through a slightly different and probably accelerated mechanism.

I would argue that the discrete categorization of different "kinds" of psychosis is less important than understanding the context in which they occur. Perhaps drug-induced psychosis is that which is occurring where drug use is the primary factor: someone isn't seeking any kind of spiritual experience, they're just melting their face with DMT every night and eventually realize that they cannot function even a little bit in the world. Ultimately I hope that in drawing a distinction between the two we are aiming only to categorize for care and healing: the solely drug-induced psychosis might really only be able to be helped with psychiatric care that includes medication that works on specific neurological pathways known to be impacted by a given drug followed up by support for addiction recovery (addiction being, in this example, the major underlying cause of the crisis), where psychosis induced by spiritual practice and social isolation with or without drug use is unlikely to necessarily be aided by medication alone and instead requires major structural factors in that person's life to be altered. Another key difference is probably that in general, someone who experiences the psychosis we discuss in this text doesn't need to do massively neurologically damaging quantities of a drug to fall into the spiral of psychosis, nor does their drug use even need to be a primary factor in their spiritual practice: the practice alone can cause psychosis, and the addition of drugs as a shortcut seem to simply accelerate the process. I've seen it go both ways.

Finally, I am not purporting to have the answers for the care of specific persons who have these experiences: I've been in a minor support role as the people I've known have turned to ongoing medication to their initial benefit but the overall detriment of their health as antipsychotics have known horrific side effects when used as a long term solution, and I wonder if there are community-oriented solutions related to support and the reconstruction of supportive narrative reality that would be better had these people not needed to immediately regain social function to do things like go to work so they could continue surviving. Quite frankly, I'm not sure, because I have no examples of that even being tried. In these cases, prevention may be the best we can do.


Notes

  1. There is a big, big, big "but" in this paragraph. If it does do the person going through this experience well to rationalize and materialize their experience, and the language of "oh, it's this or that neurological function making this happen to you and you aren't really posessed (or whatever the experience may be)" is grounding and helpful, then obviously we should pay attention to that and seek avenues of support that uphold this. However, there are lots of instances where people have very real spiritual experiences that simply scare them but don't lead down the rabbithole of psychosis, and where therapists or community members then deride the experience and claim it wasn't real. In these scenarios, psychosis can actually begin to result because the reality being created for them by their community of support is so distinct from their own lived experience that they begin to not trust their own experience, or they begin to isolate themselves from their community of support because of the perception of being disbelieved or intensely alienated. Obviously, we must take great care in the building of context where we have no genelogical or cultural guidance for doing so, and as mental health professionals often only have a single script for managing experience, unfortunately sometimes they can do more harm than good.
  2. Aside from general liberal/leftist/progressive concerns over cultural appropriation, there is usually a total lack of cultural safeguards around what kind of spiritual practice someone does, and this article goes into this in more depth, so just bear with me if you're frustrated about the brevity of this statement here.
  3. I really appreciate the writing of a friend of mine, Fey, on her own newsletter, for an in-depth definition of what we mean when we say "Western occultism" or "Western esotericism", and I'll refer you here for this discussion as I lack the space to define it in this particular post.
  4. I must disclaim here that while I'm open to discussing the "use of drugs" as a cultural phenomenon I am in no way condoning or recommending the use of illegal drugs for any reason for any person reading this article. I am also not admitting to my own use of illegal substances at any point in my own history, if that is not clear in the writing. This topic is being discussed only in the context of concern for the psychological and physical well-being of my readership and broader community. Ultimately it is the job of my readership to make careful risk-analysis assesments in their own lives and make their own adult decisions about the use of any substance, legal or not.
  5. Using the hispanicized spelling here for clarity for my audience.
  6. The use of psylocibin as popularized in the US by Tim Leary and others is appropriated from Indigenous Oaxacan (Oaxaca is a region in Mexico) contextual use. However, psylocibin mushrooms are common throughout the world, and contrary to ayahuasca, which is a specific plant-medicine concocted by only a specific set of cultures in a specific georegion, I do believe that it is possible to cultivate or historically reconstruct a context for use of this particular plant aid (though again, I must disclaim that I am not condoning nor recommending its use) by persons with a diverse array of geneological origins.
  7. I know that in the Christian/Catholic example in our modern world it's equally likely that if you start hearing voices your average churchgoing Christian who also is embedded in a world of scientific thought would still probably pathologize the behavior rather than reinforce it religiously, but for the sake of the thought experiment, let's make the assumption that the "you" in the example is embedded in a more mystical Christian sect or one like the Pentecosts for whom channeling God is a more common part of their Practice.
  8. Though of course entering into a new Practice and seeking orders, mentors, or others who are entering into that same Practice is an excellent way to overcome alienation, whether real or perceived, and build a perhaps better foundational community of support. The biggest risk seems to be when this does not happen.
  9. And within these subcultures, where extremism is the name of the game (i.e: Christian Evangelism, most kinds of Mormonism, much of orthodox Islam, and so on) it's not like the quality of life for many adherents is really that excellent as most of these are rigidly patriarchal and paternalistic religions (at their extreme interpretations) that, in the name of morality, enforce extremely repressive behavioral codes. These are the kinds of extremism "rationalist" circles are being reactive to, though clearly this rationalist reaction to religious extremism is also extremely harmful if we look at the intellectual circles of the likes of Jeffrey Epstein, Sam Harris, and so on; as well as the very apparent need that it creates for people who are without religion to believe in something -- a need which Nietzche aptly foresaw in his own time would lead to fascism and other forms of authoritarianism.
  10. Perhaps this feels like an odd ending. Perhaps your goals for your own spiritual practice are much less lofty, and sure, that makes sense. However, whatever your personal goals, it is worth considering what it is you are doing when you say you Practice, and if all it is for is for your own benefit, I wonder what the point is anyway. There are much easier ways than magick to simply feel good or gain things in the world. Nothing we do is actually done in isolation, and what we do now and how we Practice, and how that Practice is transmitted to those around us: it matters far more than you may think.