Integration is currently quite the buzzword. From psychedelic integration, to integrative wellness, to integration of parts of self, this phrase seems to be everywhere right now. The question is, have we really looked at and do we have an understanding of what integration actually means when it comes to the world of counseling and psychotherapy? What does it mean to integrate a psychedelic experience? Is integration just for post-psychedelic experiences?

I have often been asked by clients, “What is integration anyways? What does it look like in therapy?” I would like to answer some of these questions and offer a few reflections from my own experience with this work.

When I first learned about integration, it was in my psychedelic-assisted therapy training. We were reminded again and again that this is one of the most important steps in the process when it comes to creating lasting, meaningful results from these psychedelic experiences. In the psychedelic communities and spiritual communities that practice working with these medicines, this is often emphasized as well. Unfortunately, the integration process offered by many of these communities, I have found, is often online, in groups, or something that is offered as an afterthought. And often, these spaces are not well attended by those, including me, who may have been part of these experiences. Which tells me something of value may be missing.

Integration, first and foremost, is challenging to define. Much like a psychedelic experience or other life-altering experiences, sometimes there are simply no words to fully reflect the process of growth and change we as humans go through in our lives. The simplest way it has been described to me is that one is given a bunch of ingredients—think onions, potatoes, celery, rice, spices—in a life-altering or psychedelic experience, and often given no recipe or instructions about what to do with these ingredients. Sometimes we leave a healing experience feeling so good, alive, and full of love that we forget that the change, or the creation of the soup, salad, or casserole, comes from within. We can't just throw all of the ingredients into a pot, or on the table for that matter, and call it “done.”

I believe the advice given to me went something like, “Carmen, you have been given a lot of ingredients. Choose one, and start learning how to cook with it.” This advice came to me at a time when I was searching for answers about my path and wanting to learn so much. I was gathering ingredients faster than I could possibly figure out what to do with them. I was looking for the next answer, the next teaching, the next experience, and in the process I had forgotten about the whole chop wood, carry water part of life.

In life, we truly do have peak experiences, and that is part of life. We have moments that change us, open something within us, give us a new perspective, or allow us to experience ourselves and the world in a completely different way. But much of life really comes down to how we move throughout our day-to-day experience. How we chop wood. How we carry water. How we talk to the people we love. How we respond when we are frustrated. How we care for our bodies. How we make decisions when no one is watching.

When I work with individuals on their journey of integration, a question I often find myself asking is, “How did that experience change how you move through your day-to-day experience?” I think this can be a key question to ask ourselves coming out of any life-altering experience. It moves us away from simply trying to understand what happened and toward exploring how we are actually living differently because of it. Through the psychedelic integration process, we begin to ask, “What did that experience mean anyways?” I have found this can sometimes leave myself and those I have worked with a little tripped up—pun intended. We often get so stuck on the meaning, the why of it all, the symbolism, the visions, the messages, or trying to understand exactly what happened, that we forget about the what now part. I don't think the meaning isn't important. I think meaning can be incredibly important. But sometimes we can spend so much time trying to understand an experience that we don't actually allow ourselves to experience what it is asking us to change. Maybe we don't have to completely understand something before we begin living differently because of it. Maybe integration is less about finding the perfect explanation and more about noticing what has shifted within us and then practicing how to live from that shift.

This is where I think integration becomes much bigger than psychedelic experiences. Integration is not just about what happens after a ceremony or a psychedelic experience. From my perspective, it is about any and all life-changing experiences. We all go through experiences that change us. Some we might label as good, some we might label as bad. Think weddings, moving, job changes, death, birth, divorce, becoming a parent, ending a relationship, beginning a relationship, illness, spiritual experiences, loss, or any of the other moments in life that fundamentally alter how we see ourselves or the world around us.

I have a teacher who taught me that trauma isn't just the “bad stuff.” Trauma is the life-altering stuff. From that lens, we can begin to explore how we integrate any life-changing experience into our day-to-day practice. How did that experience change me? How did it change how I see myself? How did it change what I value? What am I no longer willing to tolerate? What am I being invited to move toward? And perhaps most importantly, how do I want to move through the world now?

Sometimes integration is not nearly as profound as the experience itself. Sometimes it looks like having a different conversation with your partner. Sometimes it looks like finally setting a boundary. Sometimes it means resting when you would normally push yourself. Sometimes it means taking better care of your body, making a phone call you have been avoiding, allowing yourself to be seen, or noticing an old pattern and choosing something different. Sometimes integration is simply getting up the next morning and making breakfast.

This is why I encourage people to choose one ingredient. Not ten. Not every realization you had during an experience. Not every book you suddenly feel compelled to read or every life change you think you need to make. Just one. What is the one thing that feels most alive or important right now? And then, perhaps more importantly, what would it look like to practice that one thing in your ordinary life? You might spend some time journaling about it, but I would encourage you not to turn journaling into another way of trying to figure everything out. Instead, simply notice. What feels different? What am I seeing now that I didn't see before? What feels unfinished? What am I being invited to pay attention to? What is one small thing I want to do differently? Sometimes writing it down is enough. Sometimes talking with someone who can hold the experience without immediately telling you what it means can be helpful. Sometimes integration happens through therapy, through nature, through movement, through creativity, through relationships, or simply through giving yourself enough time and space to allow an experience to settle.

I also think integration happens in the body. We can spend so much time trying to understand an experience cognitively that we forget that our bodies are part of the process. Taking a walk without headphones, sitting quietly for a few minutes, noticing your breathing, spending time in nature, stretching, dancing, creating something, or simply paying attention to where you feel something in your body can all be forms of integration. Our bodies often know things before our minds have the language for them. And sometimes, we need another person to help us integrate. Not someone who is going to tell us what our experience means, but someone who can sit with us while we explore what it means to us. This distinction is important to me. I don't believe it is my job as a therapist to tell someone what their psychedelic experience means. My role is to help create a space where they can explore it, question it, understand themselves within it, and ultimately decide what they want to carry forward.

So if you have recently had a psychedelic experience, or if you have simply moved through something that has changed you, I might invite you to sit with a few questions: What has changed in me? What hasn't changed, even though I thought it would? What am I seeing differently now? What am I no longer willing to ignore? What am I being invited to let go of? What am I being invited to move toward? What is one pattern I can practice changing? What is one thing I can bring into my everyday life from this experience? How has this experience changed the way I relate to myself? How has it changed the way I relate to others? And how do I want it to change the way I move through the world?

And perhaps the simplest question of all is the one I find myself returning to again and again:

What now?

Not necessarily, What did it mean? Not, What was I supposed to learn? Not, What am I supposed to do with all of this? Just, What now?

Because ultimately, integration isn't about holding onto an experience forever. It is about allowing the experience to become part of who we are and how we live. The ceremony ends. The retreat ends. The breakthrough ends. The peak experience ends. And then we wake up the next morning and have to live our lives.

We chop wood. We carry water. We make breakfast. We have the hard conversation. We love someone. We set a boundary. We make a different choice. We notice ourselves falling into an old pattern and choose again.

The experience may have been extraordinary. The integration often isn't.

And maybe that is the point.

Integration is learning how to take the ingredients we have been given and slowly, imperfectly, learn how to cook with them.



If you are finding yourself in the aftermath of a psychedelic experience or another significant life transition and aren't sure what to do with what you have experienced, this is something we work with at Rooted Insights. Psychedelic integration support can provide a space to slow down, explore what has shifted, make sense of what feels meaningful, and most importantly, begin exploring how you want to bring those changes into your everyday life. You don't have to have the answers before you begin. Sometimes you just need a place to start working with the ingredients.