Psychedelics and Aging

In recent years, I’ve seen more people explore psychedelics as a means of healing and self-expansion—and these are not people seeking recreational experiences. Many are 40+ and have been in therapy for many years. Often our conversations begin with memories of growing up as Jonesers or Gen Xers, generations heavily affected by the so-called War on Drugs. Like me, they may have attended health classes where “Just Say No” was the repeated message. This movement painted a picture of the dangers, rather than the potential, of psychedelic medicines.

Books and documentaries like How to Change Your Mind have encouraged people to reconsider what they were taught and learn about how these medicines might help them as they grow older.

I also did not begin working with psychedelic medicines until my fifth decade of life. Since then, I have been struck by their potential and how they have helped me grow. They have helped me resolve early trauma and, perhaps most significantly, deepen my own spirituality. They have also changed how I think about aging. There was still so much about myself that I had yet to discover, with much more to come.

I hadn’t expected to discover so much after years of therapy, training and helping other people understand themselves. I had already spent considerable time working through my own history.

Even so, there were feelings I had not fully reached and experiences I would not have known to seek out. I’m now more curious about what I might discover than certain about what I already know.

The Person We Think We Are

By midlife and beyond, most of us have some familiar ways of describing ourselves. We’re independent, anxious, practical, responsible, or slow to trust. We know what we do well and what tends to be difficult. These descriptions often fit, but we may have been repeating them for so long that we no longer question them.

Someone who says, “I’ve always been independent,” may have learned early that help was unreliable. A person who keeps everyone happy may worry that a disagreement could cost them a relationship. After decades of living this way, it can be hard to imagine doing anything else.

During a psychedelic experience, that person may feel close to someone without the usual urge to pull away. They may accept reassurance without feeling embarrassed or feel compassion for the child they once were. Something they have understood intellectually—I needed care, too—may become something they can actually feel.

The familiar reactions may return afterward, but the experience can still be useful. Someone who has always struggled to receive care now knows they have felt comfortable accepting it. In therapy, they can talk about what allowed that to happen and practice asking for support in everyday life.

For someone who has begun to think, “At this point, I’m probably never going to change,” that can be a welcome surprise. It may encourage them to try again with something they had given up on or may open the door to doing just that.

Healing Can Lead Somewhere Unexpected

When we spend less energy managing old pain, we sometimes discover that we want things we have barely considered. Years of worrying, staying in control, or trying to feel good enough can leave little time to wonder what we enjoy or feel curious about. As those pressures ease, we may want more intimacy, time outdoors, creative work, or a chance to explore our spiritual lives.

Spirituality has been a significant part of my own experience. Psychedelic work has made me more curious about consciousness and my relationship with something larger than myself. I find a connection here with Abraham Maslow’s idea of self-transcendence. Many of us learned about self-actualization as developing our potential and becoming more fully ourselves. In his later work, Maslow also explored our desire to connect beyond ourselves.

For me, that includes feeling connected to other people, nature, and the sacred. Psychedelic experiences can bring those feelings into sharp focus. Someone may be deeply moved by music or feel an unexpected sense of belonging. Another person may understand an experience as an encounter with God or a loving presence. People need room to talk about these experiences in their own words, including when they are unsure what to make of them.

These experiences have made growing older feel more open-ended than I once expected. There are parts of myself I’m only now getting to know. Sometimes I wish I had begun sooner, especially when I think about how long I struggled with things that have since become easier.

Discovering More While Having Less Time

There can be sadness in finding something helpful later in life. We may wish we had found it sooner, been kinder to ourselves, or spent fewer years afraid. Someone who begins to feel comfortable with closeness may think about a relationship that has already ended. Feeling compassion for ourselves can bring grief about how harshly we treated ourselves for so long.

It is possible to feel grateful and wish the timing had been different. In therapy afterward, there may be a lot to talk through: what we missed, what was available to us then, and what we were doing to get through difficult circumstances. We may still have regrets, but begin to look back with more understanding and less blame.

Growing older also means losing people, facing changes in our health, and thinking about our own death. Psychedelic research with people facing life-threatening cancer suggests that psilocybin with psychological support may ease depression, anxiety, and fear of death for some people.

These studies cannot tell us how everyone will respond, but they offer some hope for people whose fear is making it difficult to enjoy the time they have.

Some people describe spiritual experiences that bring comfort. Others feel more able to talk about being frightened or accept care from someone they love. They may still have questions about death, but find themselves less consumed by those questions. That can make it easier to enjoy a visit, laugh with a friend, or become interested in something again.

Supporting Exploration Later in Life

These possibilities are part of why I’m interested in this work, but how we offer it needs just as much thought. Research involving older adults is still limited. Health conditions, medications, and the effects of a particular substance need careful assessment, and we cannot assume that an approach used with younger participants will suit everyone.

Comfort during the session also requires some planning. Someone may need support for an aching back, help getting to the bathroom, or adjustments for hearing and vision. These are useful conversations to have beforehand, especially with a person who tends to put up with discomfort rather than ask for help.

Trust takes time, too. Someone who has spent decades caring for others may feel uneasy about being cared for. The messages they heard about drugs when they were young may still frighten them, even after they have read the research and decided to proceed. They should be able to ask questions, express doubts, and talk about what would help them feel comfortable. Preferences about music, touch, conversation, and personal space need to be respected throughout the session.

Support afterward is equally personal. A person living alone may appreciate more contact. Someone who tires easily may prefer shorter integration sessions and time to rest. Some people like to write; others make sense of an experience by talking, walking, listening to music, or making art.

There may also be practical difficulties to work through. A person can feel a strong wish for closeness and still struggle to ask their partner for affection. They may recognize how exhausted they are while facing obligations they cannot easily change. Integration gives them time to talk through what is possible and get help taking the next step.

I’m grateful that I became curious about psychedelic medicines when I did. They have helped me with pain I had carried for a long time and deepened a spiritual life that continues to develop. I’m still learning how to accept care, trust, and connect more deeply with others. Being older has given me plenty of experience, but it hasn’t put an end to any of that learning. I’m glad there is more ahead.

A Reflection

Think about something you describe as “just the way I am.” When did you begin to think of yourself that way? Can you remember a time when you felt or responded differently?

Is there something you would like to try or understand better now? You might begin by talking with someone you trust, returning to therapy, exploring a spiritual or creative practice, or asking whether psychedelic work could be appropriate for you.

To read more about Psychedelics and what Heidi has to offer, click here.

Heidi J. Dalzell, PsyD, is a licensed clinical psychologist, EMDR Consultant, author, and psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy provider with more than 30 years of experience. Through Sedona Integrative Therapy, she works with adults seeking support for trauma, grief, eating disorders, body image, and the changes that come with midlife and aging. Her approach brings together psychotherapy, mindfulness, somatic practices, and spiritual exploration when meaningful to the individual. Having begun her own work with psychedelic medicines later in life, Heidi brings both professional training and personal experience to her interest in healing and continued growth. She offers psychedelic preparation and integration, ketamine-assisted psychotherapy, and individualized intensives in Arizona, along with telehealth services in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.