Mushrooms, the Ego, and the Healing Soul: A Hypnotherapist View

TRANSCRIPTION: 

As a hypnotherapist, I’m constantly exploring the edges of consciousness, asking deeper questions about how healing truly occurs. One question that has emerged time and again, especially with the increasing use of plant medicines…..

How do psychedelic mushrooms help—or hurt—a person on their healing journey?

It started with a session that still lingers in my memory. I was guiding a client into hypnosis, and something unusual began to unfold. As she dropped into the subconscious layers of her being, her voice changed. The tone, the energy—it wasn’t entirely hers. It felt like I wasn’t just speaking to her higher self or oversoul… but to the mushroom itself. The mycelium.

It spoke as if it were part of her. Not an invader or separate entity, but an ally. An extension of her consciousness, but filtered through the essence of the mushroom.

This led me to ask deeper questions: Was I truly speaking with her oversoul? Or was I in dialogue with the consciousness of the mushroom—a guide in its own right? Could these natural medicines serve as more than just biochemical tools, but as spiritual allies with voices and intentions of their own?

In channeling answers from the oversoul level of understanding, what I received was this:

Psychedelic mushrooms can be incredibly helpful when the ego is stuck—so dominant, so traumatized, that it won’t allow the soul to come forward. In those cases, the mushroom acts almost like a gentle wedge, prying open the ego’s grip just enough to let in light.

But—and this is a crucial nuance—mushrooms do not discriminate. They lower ego defenses, yes, but if the soul’s will isn’t strong enough to come forward, or if the person isn’t grounded or guided, other energies can slip in. The mushrooms don’t “possess,” but they do create a vacuum where intention is everything.

In my client’s case, the mushrooms allowed her to access a past life in which she was accused of being a witch and killed for it. The trauma was ancient, deep, and protected by a fortress of ego. But with the mushroom’s help, that fortress softened. I could speak to what seemed like the oversoul—but I now understand, I was also in conversation with the ally that is mycelium.

It wasn’t a possession. It was more like an emissary. The mushroom helped guide her, comfort her, even interpret the soul’s voice through its own lens. But it was a filtered experience.

This realization opened up an important insight for my practice:

Mushrooms—especially in microdosing or carefully facilitated doses—can serve as training wheels for those whose trauma has created an ego that’s simply too strong to step aside. They are not a replacement for willpower, presence, or soul integration. But they can help open the door when that door is sealed tight.

However, there’s a delicate balance.

If too much is taken, or if someone is unprepared, the ego may be so dismantled that it’s not just softened—it’s silenced. The soul may want to come through, but now it’s gagged and bound. Other energies may step in. Confusion can arise. Healing becomes murky.

So what’s the way forward?

From my perspective as a hypnotherapist:

• First, build trust with the ego. In the early sessions, help the ego feel safe. Let it see that it won’t be destroyed, only invited to rest.
• Introduce mushrooms sparingly and with intention. If used, let it be temporary—a way to initiate the connection to the oversoul, not a crutch to rely on.
• Once the soul has had space to speak, slowly reduce dependence on the ally. The long-term healing work must come from the soul itself reclaiming its power and voice, not from being “interpreted” through a plant.
• Always be aware of the dynamic between ego, soul, and allies. Just because something is natural doesn’t mean it’s always benevolent. Intention, integration, and guidance are essential.

In the end, mushrooms can be a beautiful ally on the healing path—but like all true medicine, they require reverence, discernment, and deep listening.



For those of us holding space for healing, our job is to know when to introduce the ally—and when to help the soul stand on its own