What happens when the ceremony ends but the questions remain? A reflection on what psychedelics do to the brain and how perception and consciousness truly shift.
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We throw around the phrase “altered states of consciousness” as if it were something mystical. But what does that mean neurologically, spiritually, experientially, in the context of psychedelics and perception?
Psychedelics are known to “shift consciousness,” but the truth is they shift more than that. They change how your brain functions, how your senses process reality, and how your inner narrator interprets the world. In short, they temporarily change how you see.
So let’s talk about it:
What does it mean to shift consciousness?
What’s actually happening in the brain?
And how do these altered states relate to perception and the way we form meaning, beauty, and insight?
From a neuroscience perspective, consciousness is your moment-to-moment awareness of thoughts, surroundings, sensations, time, and self.
There are multiple “levels” or layers:
In functional brain terms, these levels are regulated by:
When we say “altered states of consciousness,” we’re referring to shifts in how these networks synchronize. Psychedelics modulate the Default Mode Network, interrupt habitual loops, and increase cross-talk between brain regions that don’t usually communicate, which changes what we’re conscious of.
Most classic psychedelics, including psilocybin, LSD, DMT, mescaline (peyote and wachuma), and ayahuasca, share a common mechanism: they activate the 5-HT2A serotonin receptor. This interaction quiets the Default Mode Network (the part of the brain responsible for ego, identity, and narrative thinking). This enables different areas of the brain that were previously isolated to communicate with each other in new and innovative ways. The result is often described as heightened cross-brain connectivity or “whole-brain” communication.
This shift leads to a loosening of the usual mental structures that keep perception fixed or limited. People often report an enhanced awareness of patterns, textures, sounds, and emotional nuance. Senses may blend (as in synesthesia), time may stretch, and symbols may carry more weight than language. These changes don’t just expand perception; they alter the relationship between the inner world and the outer one.
In this state, the ego softens. Boundaries blur. You’re no longer interpreting reality through your usual filters. And for many, that opens a portal to insight, grief, reverence, or release.
They loosen the way we usually process reality and give us access to other ways of seeing.
First, let’s begin by understanding a bit deeper into the Default Mode Network (DMN), which is a set of brain regions that become active when your mind is at rest and not focused on external tasks. It’s involved in:
In many ways, the DMN is the seat of the ego, which is the part of the brain responsible for your sense of identity and separateness.
Psychedelics temporarily suppress DMN activity, which can lead to:
This suppression allows previously disconnected brain regions to communicate more freely, resulting in new perspectives and cognitive flexibility…which I like to call shifting perspectives through new mental frameworks.
Let’s break it down:
When people say they want to “elevate their consciousness”, they’re often seeking:
And as much as we want to believe it’s a just spiritual act, we cannot overlook the true neurological event…which then led me to question what perceptual shifts are caused by which psychedelic. Let’s unpack that next.
Often used in Indigenous and shamanic traditions, psilocybin invites humility. While the visions are less visual than intuitive, they focus on feeling life from the inside out. This brings a kind of biological reverence, as if the forest begins to speak.
LSD activates serotonin receptors (particularly 5-HT2A) and increases cross-communication between brain regions. It significantly increases activity in the frontal cortex, the region responsible for executive function, symbolic thinking, and creative problem-solving. It also boosts BDNF (Brain-Derived Neurotrophic Factor), which supports neuroplasticity.
While psilocybin is often felt more emotionally and physically, LSD is more cognitive as a cerebral deep-dive with vivid geometry, expanded time perception, and often a sharper sense of agency (or hyper-agency). For some, this results in extraordinary clarity. For others, it can feel mentally overwhelming without the right set and setting.
Ayahuasca is more than a psychedelic; it’s a ritual teacher who has a presence. Many describe it as a dialogue, not with hallucinations, but with a deep intelligence. The experience is rarely pretty, but often necessary.
There’s no story here. No visions. Just silence. A vastness. It’s not for everyone (and requires strong integration), but it can reset the nervous system in profound ways.
Ketamine doesn’t feel emotionally lush or psychedelic in the traditional sense. It creates a sense of emotional distance, almost like watching yourself from afar. For those stuck in trauma loops or nervous system hyperarousal, that detachment can offer relief: a pause from intensity, a reset of patterning.
Unlike the visual intensity of DMT or the mental speed of LSD, mescaline opens slowly. It’s earthy. Steady. Often called the “grandfather medicine,” it works through the heart, softening defenses and inviting deep peace. Many report a return to innocence, a sense that the world is still beautiful and trustworthy.
It’s also one of the few psychedelics that work gently with grief.
However, in my reflections and after growing tired of the physical symptoms of consuming too much plant medicine in my work with the Andean elders and other shamans through the years, I began to wonder:
Without the use of these psychedelics, can we access the same breakthroughs in perception? Is the effectiveness the same after one experience as after many? Does the repeated use enhance the neural pathways being created or damage others?
What is the science here? And it seems I have a whole lot more to dive into…
Pros of intentional, spaced ceremonial use:
Potential risks of overuse:
That part comes through how you live after the medicine.
Ultimately, psychedelics can open the door…but they don’t do the rewiring for you.
My interest in perception, brain function, and altered states didn’t start with psychedelics. It started with witnessing loss. Watching people I love decline from neurodegenerative diseases like alzheimer’s and glioblastoma, which is a brain cancer in the form of a tumor that steals memory, personality, and speech, made me realize just how fragile consciousness is. The person you knew is still there, but the way they see the world shifts. The way they exist in it, too. It’s heartbreaking…and it’s such a part of the greater mystery of life why it even occurs to begin with.
Later, when I underwent general anesthesia, I experienced another kind of void. It was not sleep, nor was it a dream. It was the absence of any perception. One moment I was there, and then I wasn’t, and time didn’t pass. I remember waking up thinking: Where did I go? What was shut off? And what does it mean to have a self that can disappear and reappear, or for us to manipulate our brain’s consciousness, and why are we willing to do so?
I spent time tending to my aunt in her final weeks of brain cancer. Sitting beside her, holding space as her ability to speak slipped away, I witnessed what it means for perception to fragment. Her inner world remained vast and intact, but the bridge to express it was breaking. That experience changed me.
These moments made me question what we often take for granted: the feeling of being here. The act of sensing. The ability to name light, sound, meaning, and love. And how fragile that is when the brain is interrupted, whether by illness, trauma, anesthesia, or intention. My relationship with psychedelics and perception has profoundly changed since.
So when we say we want to “expand our consciousness,” what are we after?
Often, we’re longing to:
Psychedelics don’t give you that. They show you what’s in the way of seeing life as a devotion to beauty and mystery. Read more on this in The Allure of Beauty.
True elevation of consciousness also doesn’t come from the repetition of psychedelic experiences. It comes from repatterning your daily perception.
They widen the lens, but only you can choose what to focus on. Interested in diving a bit deeper into how you can practice Shifting Perspectives in the day-to-day? Read the manifesto I wrote here.
In The Art of Seeing, I explore perception not as a fixed ability, but as a living, malleable skill – one that can be sharpened, softened, recalibrated.
Psychedelics may open that door temporarily. But the real work or the real art is in learning to see with more depth, more honesty, and more presence every day.
Because how you see changes what you see. And what you see shapes who you become.
x
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