Practitioners Safety Guide
Written by Andrew Rose
An educational guide for Psychedelic Therapists, Facilitators, and Guides
Facilitating psychedelic experiences is a profound responsibility that comes with unique safety challenges. This guide offers evidence-based, practical advice for practitioners working in diverse contexts, from licensed therapists to trip sitters, to help you navigate risks while supporting meaningful, transformative experiences. It distills key insights from the Psychedelic Safety Institute’s research and field observations into an accessible format for experienced professionals. Throughout, we emphasize that this guide is not a substitute for formal training, but rather a supplemental resource to support safe practice.
This packet offers a foundational orientation to psychedelic safety for practitioners working in diverse contexts. It is designed to highlight key areas of responsibility, common patterns of harm, and critical safety considerations across substances, settings, and roles.
What this guide is
A synthesis of findings from PSI’s research (literature reviews, case reports, typologies) combined with real-world insights, aimed at highlighting core safety principles.
A practical overview of risk areas and harm-reduction strategies to help practitioners identify, manage, and mitigate risks across various psychedelic modalities.
A starting point for deeper engagement with best practices, encouraging further training, supervision, and the use of specialized resources for skill-building.
What this guide is not
Not a substitute for professional training, supervision, or mentorship – it does not certify competency or qualify one to practice without proper credentials.
Not a step-by-step protocol or clinical manual for any specific drug, therapy, or tradition. Every setting and individual is different; this guide offers general guidance, not a strict checklist.
Not an endorsement of illegal activity. While we acknowledge many practitioners operate in underground or non-medical contexts, PSI does not condone breaking laws. This guide focuses on harm reduction and safety in the reality that psychedelics are used in varied settings (legal and underground).
Intended Audience
This guide is written for psychedelic practitioners in a broad sense, including:
Licensed therapists and clinicians providing psychedelic-assisted therapy in clinical trials, research settings, or emerging medical practices (e.g. ketamine clinics).
Underground guides and sitters facilitating sessions outside formal frameworks, who
often lack institutional support but carry equal responsibility for client safety.
Integration coaches and counselors who assist clients after psychedelic experiences, helping them process and integrate insights while watching for any signs of harm or need for referral.
Ceremonial facilitators (e.g. those leading ayahuasca circles, psilocybin ceremonies, or other traditional/neo-shamanic rituals) responsible for group safety in spiritual or community contexts.
Licensed non-clinical facilitators in new legal programs (such as Oregon’s psilocybin services or Colorado’s natural medicine framework) operating within regulatory guidelines to provide psychedelic experiences without formal therapy.
Other health and wellness professionals involved in psychedelic work (nurses, coaches, clergy, etc.); essentially anyone in a role of guiding, supporting, or caring for individuals during or after psychedelic experiences. (Emergency first responders are not the focus here; they have a separate PSI guide for acute interventions.)
Methodology
This packet synthesizes evidence from PSI's comprehensive research assets—including analysis of 750+ clinical papers (Literature Analysis), 36,000+ trip reports (Forum Data Analysis), detailed real world scenarios (Case Book), and 100+ stakeholder interviews (Interview Explorer)—to provide practical, research-backed guidance for your practice.
The Practitioner’s Role in Psychedelic Safety
Practitioners, whether medical professionals, underground healers, or spiritual guides, play a critical role in determining outcomes. Research shows that in controlled clinical trials with rigorous screening and support, serious adverse events are rare. By contrast, in unregulated or poorly supported settings, harmful outcomes become more likely, not because psychedelicsthemselves are uniquely toxic, but due to unsafe conditions, inadequate preparation, or lack of integration support. In other words, context is often the defining factor in whether a psychedelic experience is healing or harmful. As a practitioner, your actions—from how you screen participants to how you respond in a crisis—can significantly tilt the balance toward safety. This guide will outline the core responsibilities you carry in creating that safe context.
At the same time, it’s important to recognize that different practice settings entail different challenges. A licensed therapist in a research hospital may have emergency protocols and medical staff on standby, whereas an underground facilitator in a remote ceremony must personally manage any crisis without immediate outside help. A ceremonial circle leader might be juggling the dynamics of a large group, and an integration coach might only see the aftermath of a difficult trip without having been present during the experience. Each context requires adapting one’s approach to safety. Know the limits and resources of your setting: for example, if you work in a legal clinic, take advantage of consultation and emergency services; if you operate in the underground, have a plan for emergencies (even if it means involving authorities as a last resort) and establish clear agreements with participants about safety measures. Despite these differences, all practitioners share a common mandate: to prioritize the well-being, autonomy, and dignity of those they support.
Understanding Risk Domains in Psychedelic Work
Psychedelic experiences can produce a wide spectrum of effects, and harms can manifest in multiple domains. Being able to recognize these harm domains helps practitioners anticipate issues and respond appropriately. According to PSI’s research on psychedelic harm typologies, the key domains of risk include:
Psychological
Emotional or mental health challenges that persist beyond the session. This could be intense anxiety, panic, depressive episodes, paranoia, or even psychosis triggered or unmasked by the experience. For example, a client might have a distressing re-living of trauma or develop confusion and delusional thoughts post-session. Such outcomes are uncommon, but when they occur they require careful monitoring and often professional intervention. Practitioners should be vigilant for signs of prolonged disorientation or mood shifts in the days and weeks after a journey.
Physiological
Bodily or medical risks. Classic psychedelics are generally physically safe in reasonable doses (no lethal overdose in the way opioids or alcohol can cause), but they can still pose acute medical issues. Examples include elevated heart rate or blood pressure, seizures in rare cases, or dangerous drug interactions (like serotonin syndrome if mixing an MAOI with certain medications). Accidents or injuries can also happen if someone is mobile and disoriented. It’s critical to screen for medical vulnerabilities (heart conditions, epilepsy, etc.) and to have basic medical safety plans (first aid, a protocol for contacting emergency services) in place. Physical safety also means preventing environmental hazards (avoiding dangerous heights in the vicinity, etc.); see Behavioral domain below for more.
Perceptual
Lasting perceptual disturbances. A well-known example is Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder (HPPD), where individuals experience lingering visual distortions after the drug’s effects have worn off. Such outcomes are quite rare but can be distressing and may require specialist care. Other perceptual issues might include ongoing sensitivity to light/sound or difficulty tuning out mild hallucinations. While practitioners cannot prevent these in all cases, you should educate participants about these possibilities and have referrals to neurologists or ophthalmologists if needed.
Relational / Spiritual
Challenges in one’s sense of meaning, identity, or relationships. Psychedelics can shake the foundations of a person’s worldview. Sometimes individuals have an existential crisis, feel a loss of meaning, or experience spiritual confusion after a big experience. They might also encounter interpersonal strain—for instance, if they come back from a retreat with a changed outlook that family or friends don’t understand. In group settings, conflicts or power dynamics might emerge as part of the experience. Practitioners should be attuned to these relational and spiritual aspects of harm. For example, a client could become overly dependent on a guru-figure, or feel “alienated” from ordinary life. Helping clients find community support, spiritual counseling, or family therapy when appropriate is part of mitigating these harms.
Behavioral
Risks of harmful behaviors during or after the experience. This includes impulsive or unsafe acts under the influence (e.g. wandering into traffic, attempting something dangerous because of delusions of invincibility) or maladaptive behaviors post-experience. While classic psychedelics do not create chemical dependency, a person could develop a pattern of escapist overuse or mix substances irresponsibly. There are also rare cases of aggression or self-harm during intense experiences. As a practitioner, ensure the physical environment is controlled (to prevent accidents), and that someone is never left alone if they are in a vulnerable state. After the fact, keep an eye on whether the client is integrating the experience constructively versus making rash life decisions (quitting jobs, ending relationships abruptly, etc.) in the immediate aftermath. Gentle guidance can help them channel insights into gradual, positive changes rather than sudden, risky leaps.
Practitioner-Driven
Harms caused by the facilitators or professionals themselves through ethical misconduct or negligence. Unfortunately, history and contemporary reports show that
facilitators can become sources of harm through boundary violations, exploitation, or unsafe practices. This includes egregious abuses like sexual assault or financial fraud, as well as more subtle but still damaging behaviors like psychologically manipulative comments, violation of confidentiality, or abandonment of a client in distress. Power dynamics in psychedelic work are heightened; clients in altered states are extremely vulnerable and suggestible. Practitioners must hold themselves to the highest standards of ethics, obtaining clear consent for any touch or intervention, maintaining confidentiality, and never leveraging the influence of the psychedelic state to serve their own agendas. Misconduct not only causes direct trauma but also erodes trust in the field as a whole. Later sections will touch on maintaining ethical integrity, but it
cannot be overstated: your conduct is a safety factor. Being well-intentioned is not enough; seek supervision and peer support to keep yourself accountable, and if you notice red flags (in yourself or colleagues), address them proactively.
These domains often overlap (for instance, a traumatic psychedelic event can have psychological, relational, and spiritual repercussions all at once). Some clients enter psychedelic experiences with trauma histories, psychiatric vulnerabilities, or medication interactions that increase risk. Others may be seeking healing for issues that the experience itself reactivates or destabilizes. By understanding the full landscape of risks and potential harms, a practitioner is better prepared to screen, monitor, and respond at each stage of the journey. Understanding these domains of harm is essential not just for screening and planning, but for ethical reflection and practitioner self-awareness. This guide will explore each of these in more detail through preparation, experience, and integration phases of psychedelic use across contexts.
Preparation Phase: Screening and Safety Planning
Most of the work of preventing harm happens before anyone takes a substance. Thorough screening and preparation are the frontline defenses against adverse outcomes. As one major literature review concluded, inadequate screening (for example, failing to exclude someone with a high-risk psychiatric history) can lead to avoidable adverse events. Every practitioner, across clinical and community settings, should establish a screening process appropriate to their context.
Key screening considerations:
Psychiatric history
Certain mental health conditions may heighten risk. Personal or family history of psychotic disorders (schizophrenia, bipolar with psychosis) or severe personality disorders are commonly considered contraindications. (See PSI’s contraindications guide for more). Clinical trials for psychedelics typically exclude individuals with a history or first-degree family history of psychosis or mania for safety. Take this seriously in any setting. Someone predisposed to psychosis could have a prolonged psychotic reaction or mania triggered by psychedelics. Also screen for current severe depression with suicidal ideation, as intense experiences could exacerbate suicidality in the short term. If a person has a trauma history or an anxiety disorder, it doesn’t mean they cannot do psychedelics, but you’ll want to ensure they have strong support structures, and you might proceed with extra caution or preparation around emotional grounding.
Bottom line: Know the psychological terrain of your participant. If you’re not a clinician, it may be wise to have them obtain a mental health evaluation or clearance before a high-dose experience. Refer out or decline to facilitate if someone’s psychological stability seems precarious; doing so is an act of care, not judgment.
Medical conditions and medications
Screen for any medical issues that could make psychedelics dangerous. Uncontrolled high blood pressure, heart disease, a history of aneurysm or stroke, seizure disorders, or severe liver/kidney problems (which could affect metabolism) are examples of red flags. Certain psychedelics have specific contraindications: e.g., Ibogaine is risky for those with cardiac conditions; ayahuasca (an MAOI) can be dangerous if someone is on SSRIs or has a tyramine-sensitive diet. (See PSI’s contraindications guide for more.) Ask about all prescription and recreational drugs the person is using. Antidepressants like SSRIs can dull a psychedelic’s effect but also carry a small risk of serotonin syndrome, especially if combined with substances like MDMA or ayahuasca. If you are not medically trained, consider having a consulting physician or use established guidelines (for instance, many retreat centers require EKGs or blood tests for certain participants). Ensure the participant isn’t taking anything that could interact poorly (e.g., lithium with ketamine or psychedelics can be dangerous). Also verify they won’t be mixing drugs during the session—poly-substance use is a major risk factor for emergencies. When in doubt, get a medical opinion. It’s better to postpone or adjust a session than to have a preventable medical crisis.
Client mindset, expectations, and intent
Have a frank discussion about why the person is pursuing a psychedelic experience and what they expect it will do. Unrealistic expectations or hidden motivations can increase risk. For example, someone desperate to “cure” their lifelong depression in one session may be carrying enormous pressure and could crash into disappointment or self-blame if they don’t get a miracle. Or a client might be secretly hoping the journey fixes their marriage or validates a specific spiritual belief, and if that doesn’t happen, it could lead to crisis. Gently uncover any signs of external pressure (is someone doing this only because a spouse or friend urged them?) or unstable intent (“I have nothing to lose, I’m at rock bottom.”) These might signal a need for careful, perhaps multi-disciplinary support. Make sure the person understands that while psychedelics can catalyze growth, they are not magic bullets and often bring up as many challenges as insights. Align expectations with reality: emphasize uncertainty and the importance of integrating whatever arises. If a client’s goals seem better served by another approach (for instance, immediate psychiatric care, or therapy
without psychedelics), be prepared to guide them toward that instead of proceeding unsafely.
Contextual and developmental factors
Consider the person’s age and support environment. Adolescents or very young adults (the biggest represented group of psychedelic users according to latest studies) may be more vulnerable to destabilization; their identities are still forming, and they might have less context to interpret a wild psychedelic experience. (If you’re working with anyone under legal adult age, ensure you have appropriate consent and ideally involve their guardians/family in preparation, unless you are specifically trained in adolescent therapy.) Older adults might have more medical issues to screen. Also, look at their
current life stability: Are they in a chaotic or high-stress environment? Do they have social support? Psychedelics can stir the pot. If someone’s life is in disarray (unresolved trauma, no stable housing, etc.), you might focus on strengthening their basic support or postpone psychedelic work. A history of trauma does not disqualify someone (many seek psychedelics to heal trauma), but it does mean you should prepare for possible abreactions or PTSD symptoms surfacing. Having a co-therapist or assistant with trauma training could be prudent in such cases. Cultural background is also part of context. Be sensitive to how a person’s culture, identity, or religion might frame psychedelic experiences (positive, negative, taboo?). This can influence their mindset going in and how they integrate afterward.
Setting and logistical readiness
Though not about the person per se, planning the setting is part of preparation. Even for one-on-one therapeutic sessions, discuss and arrange details like: Where will it happen? Who will be present or on-call? How will privacy be ensured? For group
ceremonies, what’s the ratio of facilitators to participants, and is the space adequate and safe? Do you have comfortable seating or mats, access to bathrooms, a place for someone to lie down if needed? Simple logistical issues can become safety issues if neglected (e.g., a cluttered space can cause tripping hazards, or lack of bathroom access can create distress). Ensure you have contingencies: an emergency plan (if outdoors, know the route to the nearest hospital; if in a venue, know emergency exits and have a phone available). If you are working in a ceremonial group setting, it’s wise to have an assistant or partner who can help manage issues or go for help if you become occupied with another participant. If you are the only facilitator available, then everyone is at risk, so plan for redundancy. This is all part of the principle of “set and setting,” which experienced practitioners should know well: a safe, controlled environment and a prepared, stable mindset form the bedrock of risk reduction. Don’t assume you can gloss over these basics just because your clients are experienced or you’ve done this many times. The fundamentals—privacy, comfort, emergency readiness—always apply.
Informed consent and boundaries
As part of preparation, take time to discuss what the participant can expect of you and what your role is, especially if you are not a licensed therapist. Clarify the limits of confidentiality (for instance, in illegal contexts you both share risk—have an honest talk about how communications will be handled and what happens if emergency services
must be called). Emphasize that the participant can share any uncomfortable feelings during the session and that you will respect their autonomy. If any physical contact might be part of the protocol (for example, some therapists use a reassuring hand-hold or occasional touch on the shoulder), obtain explicit consent for that in advance. Conversely, make clear what you will not do, e.g. “I will not initiate any physically intimate or invasive actions; if you feel like you need a hug or hold my hand for grounding, you can ask, but I will never cross professional boundaries.” Setting these expectations up front builds trust and protects both parties. Remember, misconduct often starts with ambiguity. By defining boundaries early, you greatly reduce the chance of confusion or violation during the vulnerable moments of a session.
Prepare for the substance specifics
Different psychedelics have different risk profiles and required preparations. If you’re facilitating ayahuasca, you must review dietary and medication restrictions (tyramine-free diet, no SSRIs or certain herbs that interact with MAOIs) and ideally have anti-hypertensive medication on hand in case of a blood pressure spike. If it’s MDMA, have a plan for keeping the person cool and hydrated (without over-hydration) because of MDMA’s effect on body temperature. If it’s ketamine, even though generally safe, be prepared for possible vomiting (have suction or be ready to turn someone on their side) and consider that unlike classic psychedelics, ketamine can depress breathing at high doses—oxygen or certain emergency meds might be good to have if you’re qualified. Know the duration of the substance: e.g. 5-MeO-DMT is very fast and intense, requiring a different style of holding space than a 8-hour LSD session. Always verify the source and dose of substances: if you’re not in a regulated setting, encourage or assist clients in testing their substances with reagent kits to avoid misidentified compounds (many “LSD” tabs in the wild are actually NBOMe or other novel drugs that have different safety margins). The epidemiology of adverse events shows higher risks when unknown or adulterated drugs are used. Dosing should be approached conservatively until you know how an individual reacts. It’s usually safer to start with a moderate dose, even if the person thinks they can handle more, especially in your first session with them. You can always do another session; you can’t as easily undo an overdose. See PSI’s Substance Specific Safety Guide for more.)
Document your plan
In clinical contexts, you would have formal treatment plans and emergency protocols written down. In ceremonial or other contexts, you should still have a checklist, even if only for yourself, covering: screening done, emergency contact for the participant obtained, medical kit prepared, physical space set, another sitter confirmed (if needed), phones charged, post-session arrangements made (e.g., is someone driving them home or are they staying over?). It might seem tedious, but checklists save lives in medicine, and they can in psychedelic work too. Preparation is all about foresight: imagining what could go wrong and ensuring you have measures in place to prevent or handle it. Empower your clients as well. Encourage them to take an active role in their safety (like disclosing all relevant info, following preparation guidelines you provide, arranging supportive aftercare, etc.). This collaborative approach sets a tone of shared responsibility and trust.
The Session: Maintaining Safety and Responding to Crises
When the psychedelic session is underway, the practitioner’s role is to hold a safe container and intervene only as needed. A common adage is “difficult is not always bad” — not every emotional eruption or bout of crying is a crisis to “fix.” Many challenging experiences, if met with calm support, lead to breakthroughs or catharsis. However, part of your expertise is knowing when a situation has crossed into dangerous territory that requires active intervention or even external help. In this section, we discuss real-time safety management: monitoring, grounding interventions, de-escalation techniques, and escalation to emergency care when necessary.
Set the tone of safety
From the outset of the session, communicate (through your demeanor more than words) that this is a secure space. Little things matter: maintaining a calm, attentive
presence; minimizing distractions or unnecessary people in the area; and reminding the
individual periodically that they are safe if they seem apprehensive. Use the tools of “set and setting” (lighting, soothing music, a comfortable physical environment, etc) to promote a sense of security. If you’re in a group ceremony, establish clear guidelines: for example, no one leaves the vicinity without a facilitator’s awareness, and participants should not physically interact with others without consent. These rules should be explained beforehand, but it’s during the session that you enforce them gently. A well-held container actually prevents many crises. For instance, if a participant feels the urge to run outside in panic, having a facilitator notice early signs and offer reassurance (“You’re with friends here, you’re safe, just breathe”) can stop a flight response in its tracks. Stay present and observant. It can be tempting, especially in long sessions, for a guide’s attention to drift (or, in less professional settings, for guides to partake in substances themselves – which is strongly discouraged as it impairs your ability to ensure safety). Resist that. Your focused presence is a primary safety tool.
Managing group dynamics
In every context, practitioners are responsible for protecting participants not only from environmental risks but also from each other. Group settings require competency in de-escalation and mediation. If one participant becomes aggressive or violates another’s boundaries, facilitators must intervene decisively, enforce group agreements (e.g., consent around touch, respect for space), and if necessary, remove someone from the space to maintain safety.
Recognize the difference between productive struggle and true danger
Psychedelic sessions can involve intense emotional release—screaming, crying, shaking—which can look alarming but may be part of a healing process. How do you tell when to intervene?
Continuously assess these dimensions:
Physical safety
Are they at risk of harming themselves or others physically? This includes accidental harm (tripping, wandering off, etc.) and intentional (violent outburst or self-injury).
Orientation and awareness
Are they in a psychotic or extremely disoriented state where they don’t understand what’s happening or who they are? Short-term confusion can be normal, but if someone is utterly lost in a terror or delusion (“I’m dead and need to jump out the window to prove I’m alive,” for example), that’s a red flag.
Medical signs
What is their body telling you? Are there signs of a seizure, heat stroke, dangerously irregular heartbeat, or loss of consciousness? Check for things like vomiting (and risk of choking), pale or bluish skin (could indicate oxygen issues), chest pain complaints, or convulsions.
Prolonged sever psychological distress
Likely the most difficult warning sign to spot given the very challenging nature of some therapeutic psychedelic experiences, distress that does not shift at all or respond to any grounding efforts might count as an emergency (especially if accompanied by threats of suicide or panic that could lead to cardiac stress).
If the answer to any of these assessment points is yes, you should intervene more actively and escalate the level of care.
Grounding and de-escalation techniques
For challenges that are intense but not immediately dangerous, your first line of response is non-intrusive support. Oftentimes, a calm, compassionate presence is enough to allow a wave of anxiety or confusion to pass. Techniques you might use include:
Verbal reassurance
Simple reminders like “You’re here with me, this feeling will pass” or “Remember, you took a substance, and it will fade in a couple of hours” can orient someone who is overwhelmed. Use a gentle tone.
Breathing guidance
If a person is hyperventilating or panicking, coach them into slower breathing. “Let’s take a deep breath together,” and do it with them, maybe counting. This not only physiologically helps but gives them a focus point.
Encouraging movement
Moving the body can be especially helpful and often arises intuitively of its own accord in psychedelic experiences. Encourage them to feel their body, stretch, wiggle toes, notice the floor under them, to make rhythmic sounds with their hands on their chest . These techniques can reconnect the person with the present moment and their physical existence, helping move intense anxiety or panic through the body in a way that may ultimately be helpful.
Encouraging sound
Humming or singing can have a similar effect as working with the breath and the body, and is often an effective technique that combines both approaches. Feeling the vibrations in the chest that these sounds create can be deeply therapeutic and similarly support intense feelings of anxiety or panic.
Environmental adjustments
Sometimes changing something in the environment can break a negative loop. If the music has turned eerie or intense for them, switch to a warmer, more soothing track (or silence). If the lighting is too dark and scary, add a soft light; if it’s too bright and overstimulating, dim it. Perhaps suggest moving to a different spot — “Would you like to step outside for a couple minutes for some fresh air?” (But only if they can move safely and it’s secure to do so.) In one case example, facilitators successfully calmed an agitated client by changing to quieter music and repeating the client’s name reassuringly. Small tweaks can shift the emotional atmosphere.
Grounding through touch or objects
If appropriate and consented to, a grounding touch (holding their hand or a hand on the shoulder) can help some people feel safer. (Note that there are differing schools of thought on the safety and ethical implications of therapeutic touch and that entire programs have been devoted to this topic. This guide again is not meant to replace proper training and apprenticeship in these domains.) Alternatively, give them a comforting object: a soft pillow to hold, a blanket (swaddling can sometimes help someone who feels like they are “falling apart”), or a familiar personal item.
Offer water or a light snack if it’s near the tail end of the session
Coming back to the body’s basic needs can signal that things are normalizing. The act of sipping water or chewing a piece of fruit can be very grounding. (Be cautious if they’re still at peak effects, as coordination might be off; ensure they won’t choke on anything.)
Provide a sense of companionship
Sometimes just saying “I’m right here with you. You’re not alone in this,” is the most powerful intervention. Many difficult trips escalate to panic because the person feels isolated in a frightening internal world. Your voice and presence act as a lifeline to reality.
Through all of these, stay composed. People can often sense if the guide is anxious, and that can fuel their own anxiety. Even if someone starts shouting or behaving erratically, you remain the anchor. (Of course, if they are endangering you physically, you must protect yourself too — maintain a safe distance or have a co-facilitator assist if, say, a participant is flailing or striking out blindly.)
When things become a crisis
Despite best efforts, there may be times when a participant’s state meets the criteria for a true emergency. Examples:
A client has a seizure that lasts more than a minute.
Someone’s temperature or heart rate is skyrocketing in a way that suggests a possible serotonin syndrome or other acute reaction.
A participant becomes uncontrollably aggressive and is a threat to others.
Or a person remains in a psychotic, incoherent state long after the drug’s effect should be fading.
In such cases, do not delay calling for medical help. It’s better to have professionals en route and then cancel if the person miraculously stabilizes, than to wait until it’s too late. Yes, in settings with legal grey areas especially, calling 911 or involving emergency responders can be complicated (legal questions, etc.), but remember that preserving life and health comes first. Many jurisdictions have Good Samaritan laws or policies that prioritize saving lives over prosecuting drug use, especially if you’re cooperative when help arrives. If you must involve EMS or paramedics, try to do so in a way that’s least traumatic for the person: explain to them (if they are conscious) what is happening in simple, reassuring terms: “You’re having some physical symptoms that concern me, so I’ve called for medical support just to be safe. You’re not in trouble —I’m doing this to make sure you’re okay.” Remove any illegal substances or paraphernalia from sight if possible before responders arrive, to reduce legal complications. When emergency personnel come, give them a clear rundown of what the person took (honesty here can save the person’s life; medical staff need to know what they’re treating), how much and when, and any relevant medical history you’re aware of. If the individual is violently agitated, police may also come to ensure safety. This is obviously not ideal, but sometimes necessary (there are cases where participants have had to be restrained for their own or others’ safety). As soon as professionals take over, your role shifts to support: maybe riding with them to the hospital if appropriate, or contacting a family member if that was agreed upon. It’s traumatic when a beautiful healing session turns into a medical crisis, but handling it decisively and with compassion is the mark of an ethical practitioner.
Documentation and debriefing
After any notable incident or close call, document what happened (for your own learning and in case any later questions arise). If you work in a team, debrief together to analyze what could be learned or done differently next time. Even if everything went fine, it can be useful to take notes on what you observed about the participant’s process, to tailor integration accordingly. This also helps build the broader knowledge base for psychedelic safety – anonymized learnings from field practitioners contribute to improving guidelines (PSI’s Case Book is an example of compiling such real-world scenarios to extract lessons).
Preserving autonomy during intervention
One subtle but important point: whenever possible, intervene in a way that preserves the person’s sense of agency. Ask permission or offer choices, even if they’re in an altered state. For example, “It looks like you’re having a really hard time. I’d like to sit a bit closer to you and maybe hold your hand – would that be okay?” Or, “I think some fresh air might help – shall we step out on the porch for a minute together?” Obviously, in an outright medical emergency or if they’re not making sense, you may have to act without explicit consent (if they’re unconscious or actively endangering themselves). But in many borderline situations, involving the person in the decision can prevent them from feeling overpowered or traumatized by your intervention. Being treated as a partner in their own care, rather than a passive patient, is often a key factor in whether a difficult experience becomes empowering or ends up as a negative trauma.
After the storm
If a crisis does occur and then resolves (say you successfully calmed someone after a panic, or even after an EMS visit they are stable), help the person re-establish a sense of safety and meaning. Often, people feel ashamed or embarrassed if they “lost control” or needed help. Normalize it: reassure them that these situations happen and are no one’s fault. If the session can continue in a low-key way (e.g. after someone settles from a panic, you might just sit quietly with them), do so, but it’s also okay to formally terminate the session early if that seems best (especially after a medical incident, you wouldn’t continue the psychedelic experience after someone had, say, a seizure; you’d move to post-care). Make sure someone is not left alone immediately after a major incident. Arrange for overnight observation if needed (in a hospital or at home with a sober companion).
In summary, crisis management in psychedelic sessions is about gradient response: start minimal (holding space, verbal reassurance) and escalate only as much as truly needed. Many intense episodes can be handled without outside intervention by a skilled, centered practitioner, but knowing when to call in additional help is equally crucial. You are the safety net, but you are not a superhero. Don’t hesitate to bring in medical professionals when a situation is beyond your capacity. As the facilitator, you should have a plan for emergencies (who to call, nearest medical facility, etc.) and ideally have rehearsed it mentally so you can act quickly under pressure. When you’ve guided someone through a harrowing passage safely, that incident can even become a part of their growth (“I went to the edge and came back with help, and now I know I can survive it”). With compassionate handling, even crises can ultimately yield wisdom, but that depends on the practitioner’s skill in safeguarding the process.
Post-Experience: Integration and Ongoing Care
The journey isn’t over when the drug wears off. In fact, what happens in the days and weeks after a psychedelic experience is often as important to safety as what happens during it. This period of integration is when individuals process the experience, make meaning of it, and ideally translate insights into positive changes. It’s also a time when latent harms or difficulties can emerge once the person returns to “normal life.” A responsible practitioner provides or facilitates integration support, monitors for any delayed adverse reactions, and knows when to refer the individual to additional resources or professional help.
Immediate aftercare (the day of and day after)
Right after the session, people are typically in a sensitive, open state. They might feel euphoric or raw, blissful or shaken – often a mix of many emotions. Your role initially is to ensure basic comforts and gentle contact. Provide water, light food if they can eat, and a safe space to rest. Many facilitators do a brief grounding conversation once the person is mostly down: not a full analysis of the trip, but simple prompts like “How are you feeling?” or “Is there anything you want to remember or make note of?” Encourage them to rest and avoid jumping straight into stressful environments or tasks. If it’s late, ensure they have a place to sleep (sometimes keeping them onsite or having a trusted friend pick them up is better than them driving or going home to a possibly triggering environment). The first 24 hours should be treated as an extension of the session in terms of care: low stimulus, high support. Let them know that intense or unexpected emotions can still wash over them and that this is normal, and that the mind and body are still processing. Normalize the need for quiet and reflection.
If the experience was difficult or traumatic, this immediate aftermath is critical. The person may be fragile and possibly disappointed (“I thought I’d heal, but I just feel scared by what I saw”). The key is not to rush to reassure them that “everything’s okay” or force a silver lining, but also not to feed catastrophic interpretations. Encourage them to rest, and perhaps say something like, “Sometimes journeys can be really hard. Often, the meaning of it takes time to unfold. For now, just know that it’s not uncommon to feel shaken. You’re not alone, and we’ll make sense of it together over time.” If they are very distressed or showing signs of acute psychological issues (like persistent confusion or paranoia), you might need to stay with them longer or involve a family member or crisis service for support. But if they’re just emotionally raw, holding a calm space is the best medicine in that moment.
If the experience was highly positive or ecstatic, integration is still needed! Often, people come out of a great trip brimming with enthusiasm: “That was amazing, I saw my purpose so clearly, I’m going to change X, Y, Z in my life right away.” There’s a risk of grandiosity or haste after very positive experiences. The person might feel they’ve been “reborn” and want to, say, quit their job tomorrow to pursue an unrealistic dream. As their guide, validate their inspiration but gently pump the brakes on any drastic, immediate decisions. “It sounds like you had beautiful insights. I suggest writing them down and giving yourself a few weeks before making any big life changes. Let’s see how you feel once you’ve integrated this.” Remind them that the real work is implementing insights gradually. Also, sometimes a honeymoon is followed by a crash. Someone might feel on top of the world for a week, then dip into a funk or doubt (“Was it all an illusion?”). Preparing them for this possibility can prevent panic if it happens. The mantra here is: pace the integration of insights.
Structured integration activities
In the days following, encourage or provide integration practices. This can include:
Integration sessions or therapy
Ideally, you meet with the client 1-3 days after to discuss the experience in depth (if you are in a therapist role). If you are a facilitator who doesn’t do therapy, strongly encourage them to talk it through with a trusted therapist or integration coach. These conversations help the person sort out what was metaphor versus literal, what emotions were stirred, and how it connects to their life narrative. Simply voicing the experience can be relieving and illuminating.
Journaling
Writing down the experience and their reflections over the next days is extremely valuable. Memories of the trip can fade or feel like a dream; writing creates a record and can reveal patterns. Suggest they journal not just a narrative of what they saw, but their feelings, any lessons learned, and questions that arose.
Creative expression
Art, music, dance—sometimes expressing the ineffable parts of a journey through creativity helps resolve lingering tension or bring insight. If someone is artistically inclined, encourage them to paint or draw aspects of their trip, or make a playlist of music that resonates with it. This can be especially useful if journaling doesn’t resonate.
Mindfulness or spiritual practices
Resuming or starting a meditation practice, prayer, or contemplative walks in nature can help digest the experience. These practices give space for insights to marinate without force.
Community and peer support
Many people benefit from knowing they aren’t alone in their psychedelic experiences. Referring them to local integration circles or online communities can provide a forum to share and hear others’ stories. For example, groups like Psychedelic Society meetups or peer-run circles (sometimes called “journey circles”) exist in many cities. Ensure any group you refer to is supportive and non-judgmental.
Lifestyle considerations
Basic self-care is part of integration: good sleep, nutrition, and gentle exercise. Remind them that taking care of the body helps stabilize the mind. Also, they might consider reducing major stressors if possible in the immediate weeks – it’s not the ideal time to, say, start a brand-new job the day after an ayahuasca ceremony or jump back into a toxic home environment without buffer. If they can take a little time off or lighten their responsibilities for a couple days, that can be very helpful.
As a practitioner, follow up proactively. If you don’t hear from someone, check in. A quick phone call or message like “Hi, just wanted to see how you’re feeling a week later” can make a big difference. Some providers set up scheduled integration meetings (e.g., one within a week, another two weeks later). Monitoring progress allows you to catch any late-arising issues. For instance, some individuals seem fine for the first few days but then develop insomnia, anxiety, or mood swings a week later. This could indicate that something from the experience wasn’t fully processed or that an underlying issue has surfaced.
Red flags during integration
Be on the lookout for signs that the person is not recovering well or needs more help:
Persistent depression or anxiety that is worse than their baseline.
Inability to function at work or home.
Social withdrawal beyond a reasonable “integration retreat”.
Significant confusion about what’s real (e.g., developing bizarre beliefs that persist, feeling like they’re in a dream).
Any thoughts of self-harm.
People also may develop what’s known as spiritual emergency, which is a kind of prolonged crisis where their worldview is so shaken that they are in distress (this can look like psychosis but might be more of an existential crisis). If you observe these, do not try to handle it all yourself. Refer out to appropriate professionals. For psychological issues, that could mean a licensed psychotherapist (ideally one versed in psychedelic integration; see below for resources) or a psychiatrist if medication might be needed (for example, in a persistent psychotic reaction, a psychiatrist might prescribe antipsychotic medicine for stabilization). If the person’s basic safety is at stake (e.g., credible suicidal intent), involve crisis services or their emergency contact/family immediately. It’s wise to have identified beforehand a trusted psychologist or clinic you can refer to—essentially someone you can call and say, “My client had a tough outcome from a psychedelic session, can you see them?”
Maintaining your professional boundaries during integration
Caring doesn’t mean unlimited access. Set healthy boundaries for follow-up. For example, it’s fine to check in and even take some calls from a client who’s struggling post-session, but if it starts to require daily counseling and that’s not your role, you need to loop in others. Do not position yourself as the sole source of support. Encourage the involvement of family or friends if appropriate (with the client’s permission), especially if they have a caring, understanding spouse or friend who can be an anchor. PSI’s Family & Peers Guide is a resource you might give to loved ones so they know how to support without judgment. Sometimes simply educating a client’s partner or parent about what to expect after a psychedelic and how to be supportive can create a much better home environment for integration. If you’re working with an adult, get their consent to involve family first, of course. In cases of ongoing psychological support, unless you are their therapist, it’s best to transition them to someone whose scope it is to provide weekly therapy. You might say, “I think having regular sessions with an integration therapist could help you continue working through this. I can help you find one.” There should be no shame in this referral; frame it as a
logical next step in care, not as a failure.
Integration Support Resources
There is a wealth of resources devoted to psychedelic integration for further reference. These include books like Marc Axialà’s book on Psychedelic Integration, and the Psychedelic Explorer’s Guide, Rosalind Watts organization Acer Integration, as well as numerous podcasts and Youtube videos that explore the topic in depth.
Fireside Project operates a free peer support line that clients can use during or after psychedelic experiences – they have trained volunteers who will talk someone through challenging after-effects or trips. Data from Fireside Project shows that such support can de-escalate many psychological distress cases without further intervention. Let your clients know about this line (the number in the U.S. is 62-FIRESIDE, or 623-473-7433) if they ever find themselves with no one to talk to at 2 AM while processing a heavy experience.
Similarly, organizations like Cheetah House specialize in supporting those who have had destabilizing experiences. Initially founded to support similar adverse experiences related to meditation, their work has informed ongoing research and peer support through organizations like the Challenging Psychedelic Experiences Project.
Local psychedelic societies can be useful for clients looking for peer and community support, as many offer ongoing integration circles. The Global Psychedelic Society is a useful hub for locating psychedelic societies at a local level, though many societies offer their programming online and are open and accessible to people from all over the world.
There are also a number of emerging directories that feature integration therapists and coaches who are comfortable with psychedelic-related cases if you feel unable to manage integration yourself. In fact, connecting your client with an integration therapist or support group preemptively (even if things seem fine) can be a protective factor, as they can then have somewhere to turn if something later troubles them. Below are links to directories that might be useful (please note PSI cannot explicitly endorse any of these platforms or their members).
Ethical Integrity
Throughout all phases—preparation, session, and integration—maintaining ethical integrity is a form of safety in itself. Psychedelic states heighten suggestibility and power differentials; even well-intentioned boundary slips can cause lasting harm. Your ethics are not an overlay, they are a primary safety intervention.
Always cultivate self-awareness: if you feel undue attachment, attraction, savior complex feelings, or anything that might cloud your judgment with a client, seek supervision immediately. Ethics in psychedelic practice means obtaining informed consent at every step, respecting confidentiality, and engaging in ongoing self-scrutiny and education. Many professional organizations and trainings include ethics modules; take them seriously (see Professional Development below for more).
Be clear about your role and your limits
Clearly define and communicate your role
Whether you're acting as a licensed therapist, ceremonial facilitator, integration coach, underground sitter, or licensed non-clinical facilitator, state it plainly. Clarify what you do (e.g., preparation, containment, integration co-operation) and what you do not do (e.g., medical diagnosis, spiritual authority, crisis psychotherapy).
Use plain-language agreements
Use plain-language agreements that include: scope, confidentiality limits, substance-specific risks, consent for any touch, emergency plans, and who is on the care team. This aligns with field guidance and helps create a shared safety culture. Taylor & Francis Online, PubMed.
Right relationship as the through-line
Kylea Taylor’s “right relationship” lens (The Ethics of Caring) is especially apt for psychedelic work: hold fiduciary duty, name power dynamics, and privilege client autonomy in all choices. PhilPapers, Kylea Taylor, MS, LMFT.
Be aware of regulatory limits
In Oregon and Colorado’s regulated services, role/scope is also a regulatory matter: facilitators practice under a code of professional conduct; sexual/romantic relationships with clients are prohibited and fiduciary duties are explicit. Oregon, Legislature, Oregon.
Whether practice happens in a licensed clinic, a ceremonial retreat, or an underground setting, the same fundamental responsibilities apply: clarity, consent, safety, and accountability. What changes is the infrastructure around you. Clinics may have licensing boards or institutional policies; underground or community settings may lack external guardrails. In those contexts, ethical discernment, peer accountability, and transparent agreements become even more essential, because there is no outside authority to fall back on.
Boundaries: physical, emotional, relational
Ambiguity around touch, intimacy, and multiple roles increases risk of exploitation and harm; clear boundaries reduce it. Recent reviews across psychedelic settings highlight boundary failures as recurring contributors to adverse outcomes. (PSI Lit Review).
Physical boundaries
Touch is opt-in, specific, and time-limited. Obtain explicit, advance, written consent for any supportive touch; reconfirm in-the-moment. No sensual/sexual touch under any circumstances. PubMed.
Environment communicates safety. Private, supervised, uncluttered spaces; no hidden cameras/recordings; secure exits. Unsafe environments constitute negligence.
Emotional boundaries
Non-directive, non-exploitative stance. Support process without imposing beliefs, diagnoses, or spiritual frames; do not use the state to advance your ideology.
Containment vs. catharsis. You hold the container; you do not become the client’s
attachment figure, confessor, or savior. PSI’s literature review flags therapist ego-inflation and undue influence as known risks; training and supervision should target these dynamics.
Relational boundaries
No dual roles that can reasonably impair objectivity or exploit trust. This is bedrock across codes (APA 3.05; MAPS MDMA Code of Ethics; Council on Spiritual Practices guidelines). If an unavoidable multiple role emerges, take steps to protect the client or withdraw. American Psychological Association, MAPS, Trippingly.
No social, financial, or spiritual entanglements. Don’t accept gifts beyond nominal value; no bartering; don’t recruit clients into your communities/businesses; don’t assume spiritual authority over them. PSI’s Misconduct Typology details dual-relationship and dependency harms in further detail.
Supervision and peer consultation
Make consultation routine, not remedial
Regular supervision decreases ethical lapses and helps metabolize countertransference, projection, and spiritual transference common in psychedelic states. Build a standing supervision rhythm (e.g., monthly case consults, ad hoc crisis reviews). (PSI Lit Review)
Name and track your red flags
Attraction, rescuing impulses, idealization/devaluation, over-identification,
“specialness,” and urges to bend rules “for healing” are consultation-worthy. PSI assets and recent scholarly work emphasize training on hyper-suggestibility, therapist ego-inflation, and undue influence. (PSI Lit Review)
Use peer accountability in non-clinical settings
Underground/ceremonial practice lacks institutional oversight; replace it with peer review, co-facilitation norms, and post-event debriefs. (PSI Misconduct Typology)
Avoid dual relationships and dependency
Working definition (practical)
Any concurrent relationship with a client—sexual/romantic, business/financial, familial, social, spiritual/student—that could reasonably impair your judgment or risk exploitation. PSI’s Typology treats romantic/sexual involvement as categorically unethical in these contexts due to compromised consent and extended vulnerability. If in doubt, assume it qualifies.
Bright lines
No sexual/romantic contact ever with current clients (and avoid with former clients; many codes extend prohibitions given lingering suggestibility and power afterglow). Oregon’s framework codifies this prohibition for psilocybin facilitators. Oregon
No business ties or recruitment. Don’t invest with clients, upsell trainings/retreats, or solicit testimonials during vulnerable windows.
No spiritual authority entanglement. Do not enroll clients as disciples, initiates, or
community “staff.” PSI documents the dependency loops this creates (coercive control, loss of voluntary consent). (PSI Misconduct Typology)
If a multiple role becomes unavoidable (small communities, overlapping circles)
Disclose the conflict; seek supervision; document safeguards; consider referral. If harm risk remains, withdraw. This is consistent with mainstream ethics and psychedelic-specific codes. American Psychological Association, MAPS
Recent analyses of sexual violations in psychedelic-assisted therapy highlight power dynamics, suggestibility, and boundary drift as core drivers — more than enough reason to adopt zero-tolerance policies and strong guardrails. PubMed
Practical guardrails you can implement today
Before you begin
Add a short, plain-language Boundaries & Consent addendum (covers supportive touch, gifts, social contact, recordings, confidentiality limits, and deal-breakers) to intakes; review verbally and revisit pre-dose. PubMed.
Include a one-sentence role card in materials: “In this work, I am your [role]; I am not
your [roles excluded].”
During the work
Use the least-intrusive effective intervention first; escalate only as needed (presence → environment → medical).
Reconfirm touch consent in the moment; default to non-touch options when unsure. PubMed.
After the work
Time-boxed availability with a clear handoff to integration therapy/peer supports (Fireside, Cheetah House, local circles).
Scheduled debrief and supervision session, especially after intense transference/countertransference.
What counts as misconduct (quick map)
PSI groups practitioner misconduct into:
Category 1 (egregious/often illegal)
Sexual misconduct, financial exploitation/fraud, physical abuse, consent violations/coercion, abandonment.
Category 2 (significant ethical violations)
Psychological/emotional misconduct, unsafe environments, confidentiality breaches, negligence/discrimination, appropriation, blurred boundaries & dual relationships, harmful group dynamics.
These categories are grounded in the unique vulnerability and power asymmetry of psychedelic settings — hence the need for heightened ethical vigilance.
Additional Ethics Resources
Kylea Taylor, The Ethics of Caring / InnerEthics®
Right-relationship, peer consultation, and ethical self-reflection tools for work in non-ordinary states. Hanford Mead Publishers
The Hub at Oxford for Psychedelics Ethics (HOPE)
Defines ethical hazards/opportunities across research, clinical practice, social justice, and less-formal uses; first convened at Oxford with international participation. (https://www.hope-statement.com/).
“Developing an Ethics and Policy Framework for Psychedelic Clinical Care: A
Consensus Statement” (JAMA Network Open, 2024)
20 consensus points across five domains (consent; boundaries/touch; practitioner experience; gatekeeping; equity/reciprocity). PubMed
Supportive Touch in Psychedelic-Assisted Therapy” (AJOB, 2025)
Recommends a precautionary, values-aligned approach to supportive touch rather than blanket bans. PubMed
Laura Mae Northrup, Radical Healership
Values-driven, anti-exploitation practice guidance for healers. Laura Mae Northrup
PSI Misconduct Typology
Practical taxonomy and examples of egregious vs. significant violations; emphasizes amplified suggestibility and long-tail harms.
Professional Development & Training
A growing but unsettled field
The field of psychedelic therapy and facilitation has expanded rapidly, and with it, a wide range of training programs and educational opportunities. Quality varies significantly, and each program tends to emphasize different competencies — from substance-specific protocols (e.g., ketamine-assisted therapy) to broader approaches that focus on preparation, integration, or harm reduction. As with any emerging field, it’s important to research carefully and choose training aligned with your role, scope, and community needs.
No clear accreditation standards (yet)
At present, there is no unified or universally recognized accreditation system for psychedelic practitioners. In the absence of FDA-approved psychedelic medicines outside of research, the field has evolved in a patchwork fashion. Some training programs may be excellent but still provide no legal license to practice psychedelic
therapy where none exists; others have disappeared entirely after a few years. Practitioners should be aware that completing a training program, no matter how reputable, does not in itself authorize independent practice unless coupled with a relevant professional license or legal framework.
A shifting landscape
Different programs are built for different contexts: some focus narrowly on clinical research protocols or ketamine clinics, while others emphasize non-clinical skills like preparation, integration, or peer support. The legal and professional landscape is also changing quickly. As medicines advance toward approval, and as states experiment with regulated frameworks, training pathways will continue to evolve.
Frameworks and Models of Training
Below are several approaches currently shaping the professional development landscape. Each has strengths and limitations, and none by themselves confer a legal license to practice outside approved contexts.
State-based licensure models
Oregon and Colorado are currently the only U.S. jurisdictions that have created legal frameworks for licensed psilocybin services. These programs include their own training and licensing requirements, which are distinct from traditional clinical licensure. Practitioners interested in these paths should review the official resources directly:
Emerging university-linked models
In recent years, new initiatives have begun to integrate psychedelic training and education standards into broader university networks. These collaborations aim to bring more rigor, oversight, and consistency to training while embedding it within established academic structures. Although still developing, these models may eventually help provide clearer benchmarks for curriculum quality, ethics, and professional competencies. See the University Psychedelic Education Program (U-PEP) for more.
Drug development company training
Several drug development and biotech companies advancing psychedelic medicines through clinical trials have developed their own internal training programs for study therapists and facilitators. These programs are usually tied to a specific investigational drug and protocol. While some of these trainings may have contributed substantially to the field’s knowledge base, they are not general-purpose certifications and do not authorize practice outside the research or regulatory context in which they were created.
Academic Research Trials
Alongside industry-sponsored protocols, many leading universities and independent institutes conduct psychedelic studies—including Johns Hopkins, Imperial College London, NYU, Yale, UCSF, and others. These trials typically recruit licensed mental health professionals to serve as study therapists, monitors, or integration providers. Because they operate under IRB approval and strict research protocols, these environments prioritize safety as a baseline — with oversight, supervision, and crisis management built into the design. At the same time, they are narrowly focused on a specific research question, with a particular substance and indication, or which may not have therapeutic intent at all. For practitioners, participating in academic trials can be an excellent way to build skills in structured, high-safety environments and to contribute directly to the evidence base shaping the field. However, just like company-sponsored trainings, this experience does not confer a general license to practice outside of the research setting.
Apprenticeship and Traditional Lineages
In many Indigenous and spiritual traditions, learning to guide or hold space with psychedelics or entheogens happens through long-term apprenticeship, not through formal coursework. This often means years of relationship-building, service to a community, and being gradually entrusted with responsibilities by elders or lineage holders. In some cases, it may take a decade or more before a practitioner is empowered to facilitate or teach. These apprenticeship models are legitimate forms of training and should be acknowledged alongside academic and clinical routes. They emphasize humility, accountability to community, and cultural continuity rather than certification. For practitioners from outside these traditions, it is essential to approach with cultural humility and to avoid appropriation; apprenticeship must always be entered into with the consent of the community and a commitment to reciprocity. For some, apprenticeship may complement university or clinical training; for others, it may be their primary path. Either way, it reflects the diversity of preparation routes available in the field.
In short, there are many training options, but the legal and professional landscape remains unsettled and dynamic. Training can build competence, community, and ethical grounding, but it does not replace professional licensure, institutional accountability, or universal ethical standards.
If you’re interested in training further, below are some organizations and programs worth
researching.
(Note: PSI does not endorse any specific program; inclusion is for informational
purposes only.)
CIIS
Fluence
Integrative Psychiatry Institute
Synthesis
Beckeley Academy
Naropa University
Berkeley Center for Science of Psychedelics
PRATI
Table of contents
Use and Attribution
For guidelines on referencing, sharing, using, and building upon the materials developed by the Psychedelic Safety Institute (PSI), click here.