Tripping towards enlightenment

High achievers find clarity, calm and a new level of consciousness

At first glance, Craig Johnson,* 38, seems to have it all: he owns multiple automotive dealerships, oversees hundreds of employees and can afford to buy anything he wants. But like many people who have “made it,” he finds himself longing for something more. “Self-improvement and self-exploration are big anchors in my life,” Johnson says. “I work on myself constantly.” When the usual rotation of business and development courses stopped hitting the mark, Johnson began exploring a growing trend in wellness tourism: psychedelic retreats for high achievers.

Set in idyllic locales and offering guided therapeutic doses of psilocybin, ayahuasca, MDMA or ketamine, these retreats are a fast-growing business: the overall psychedelic drugs market is expected to reach US $8.33 billion by 2032. And they have been popping up wherever the law allows: the Netherlands, Jamaica, Portugal and Peru, as well as Oregon and Colorado in the United States, and Alberta and British Columbia in Canada. A 2023 study from the Baylor College of Medicine counted 298 locations operating around the globe—though it’s likely many more exist, but don’t advertise online. While some retreats are bare bones, such as Etnikas’ US $700 three-day ayahuasca retreat in San Salvador, Peru, others are upscale, targeting high performers (and high earners) by blending therapy with five-star luxury experiences for a fee exceeding US $15,000.

What makes these retreats so compelling is their intentional focus on “set” (mindset) and “setting” (physical setting). Last year, a large international study by McGill University researchers found that the same dose of a hallucinogen can produce wildly different results, depending on the user’s mindset and environment. As psychedelics creep into the corporate sphere, it’s no wonder that affluent individuals are willing to pay whatever it costs to imbibe in comfort and style.

Though the industry has seen accelerated growth in the past decade, psychedelics have been used by humans for millennia. Even in the 1960s, when psychedelics gained their reputation as counterculture party drugs, scientists were striving to prove these substances could provide massive therapeutic benefits. Early studies were promising—researchers such as Humphry Osmond and Abram Hoffer found that 40 per cent to 45 per cent of 2,000 alcoholic patients treated with LSD did not return to drinking over the course of a year. However, when then-president Nixon signed the Controlled Substances Act in 1970, scientific progress came to an abrupt halt.

Decades later, curiosity reemerged. Recent brain-imaging studies have revealed that psychedelics can trigger neuroplasticity, allowing the brain to form new neural networks that may lead to improved mental health. In 2022, researchers from Johns Hopkins Medicine revealed that two doses of psilocybin alongside supportive psychotherapy helped ease symptoms of major depressive disorder for 12 months. And just this year, a study published in Brain and Behavior showed that a group of 58 veterans who attended psilocybin or ayahuasca retreats saw improvements in mental well-being, quality of life, sleep and post-deployment integration.

While the evidence is still emerging, Monnica Williams, a clinical psychologist and professor at the University of Ottawa, says the research looks promising. “A recent study showed psilocybin could extend the life of cells,” says Williams, who specializes in research on psychedelic retreats. “This is very exciting work, but it’s only in its infancy.”

With their focus on self-improvement and positive mindset, luxury retreats have opened the door to psychedelics to a previously untapped audience: executives and entrepreneurs. Johnson characterizes himself as a “control freak” who has avoided drugs his entire life, but was intrigued when he learned that prominent business leaders and innovators such as Steve Jobs, Bill Gates and OpenAI’s Sam Altman had turned to psychedelics in their quest for personal growth. With that realization, he spent more than a year researching retreats around the world before committing to a program himself.

Beckley Retreats, for example, is an American company that conducts programs in Jamaica and the Netherlands, where psilocybin is legal for personal use. It acts as the travel arm of the U.K.-based non-profit Beckley Foundation, which was founded in 1998 by Amanda Feilding—a leader of the psychedelic movement who died in May. Since 2021, Beckley has welcomed more than 750 people from all corners of the Earth to its two-, four- or five-night retreats, which include virtual learning and integration sessions before and after the trip, one or two ketamine or psilocybin ceremonies, as well as gourmet meals and snacks, yoga, meditation, breathwork classes, group circles and nature immersion. Applicants undergo a rigorous vetting process, and anyone with a clinical diagnosis or indication is screened out. “Our programs are explicitly non-medical,” says co-founder and CEO Neil Markey. “There’s a misconception that you need to be in crisis to benefit from these experiences. You can generally be well, and we’ll make you even better.”

The Journeymen Collective in British Columbia has a similar ethos—and it’s the organization Johnson kept coming back to during his period of research. He fits neatly into their target market: individuals “in a good-to-great place in life, but who know that there’s more,” says co-founder Rob Grover. Alongside his life and business partner, Gary Logan, Grover created a boutique psychedelic retreat that delivers guided psilocybin experiences to executives, entrepreneurs and high-level professionals— people just like them.

Last year, Johnson became one of fewer than 80 annual guests—no more than eight people per month—that Logan and Grover invite to their sprawling home in the Okanagan Valley. The psychedelic ceremonies are just a small segment of the overall experience. Before the in-person portion of the retreat, Journeymen completes at least four months of calls: “We need to see that you’re a fit for us, and we’re a fit for you,” explains Logan. Logan and Grover then match up a handful of individuals who spend a month meeting on Zoom to ensure they click and discuss what each person hopes to gain from the experience.

When Johnson finally flew to British Columbia for his retreat with The Journeymen Collective, he was whisked away to a hilltop home that boasted multi-storey floor-to-ceiling windows, a lap pool and gourmet organic and vegetarian cuisine. “You walk in the door and feel this overwhelming sense of calmness and acceptance,” he notes.

Over the course of four days, he took part in two psychedelic ceremonies. For each, his hosts served up a customized dose of psilocybin—usually 2.0 milligrams to 2.5 milligrams harvested by their gardener, then brewed into tea and dried for chewing. In the expansive great room looking out over Kelowna, Johnson lay down on a bed-like platform as though he were about to take a nap. Another guest went through the ceremony simultaneously, and Grover and Logan were both present to guide them into a meditative state, where their brains were more receptive to deep awakenings and behavioural change.

Contrary to what appears in the movies, Johnson didn’t end up crying hysterical tears, dancing around with sticks or vomiting into a bucket—though such retreat experiences do exist. “There weren’t little green goblins climbing on the walls,” he says. “It was nothing like that at all. The psychedelics are more of an engine to allow your mind to go deep inside the body and stay there and go through thoughts.”

It took about 20 or 30 minutes for the mushrooms to take effect, then Johnson was overtaken by a feeling of relaxation, and colours became enhanced. He was awake for the three-hour session, although he recalls drifting off into short dreams, which he referred to as “journeys.” It was during these windows that he believes he derived the most benefit. “You release your limiting beliefs and allow your inner body to give guidance,” he says. At the end, he spent 30 to 45 minutes in a state of awakened consciousness and “the clearest levels of thinking I have ever experienced.”

Throughout, Johnson found himself reflecting on his business, philanthropy, wife and children, and beliefs. By the end, he felt himself fill with immense gratitude and love.

While these programs tend to attract well-heeled clientele looking to unleash their full potential, some appeal to people struggling with mental health concerns. Take 58-year-old Jane Masters.* “I suffered horrific sexual abuse and neglect as a child and have been carrying significant PTSD [post-traumatic stress disorder] my entire life,” says Masters, who has been in therapy off and on for decades. “All the therapy I did just wasn’t cutting it.”

Though Masters isn’t the right candidate for a place such as Beckley Retreats, she was recommended The Sentinel, a British Columbia retreat and wellness centre, by a friend. The Sentinel owners, married couple Richard Kay and Gillian Maxwell, also co-founded the Psychedelic Association of Canada in 2019. Its mission: to usher psychedelics into the mainstream safely, ethically and respectfully.

Since psychedelic drugs are still “mostly illegal,” notes Kay, there’s no mention of Class A anything on The Sentinel’s website. Instead, there is “desert,” “Amazonian” or “forest” medicine incorporated into many of the centre’s retreats. Over the duration of the retreat, guests can enjoy breath- and bodywork, sound baths, spiritual yoga classes, free time in the wood-fired sauna and cedar hot tub and, of course, a pair of “ceremonial evenings” incorporating plant medicine.

Masters booked one such retreat and, after finding much benefit, returned twice in the span of a year. “The Sentinel is not a five-star hotel the way people imagine a five-star hotel,” she says. “There’s no room service or satellite TV. But it’s true luxury, because it’s quiet, remote and you’re totally unplugged. You have time to relax, reflect, eat healthy foods and take in incredible energy.”

By the first ceremony, participants are in the right headspace for a transformative experience. “I don’t want to call it a ‘crash course,’ because it’s not a shortcut,” Masters says. Homework to prepare and integration support afterward act as supplements to the psychedelic ceremony. “The medicine opens your mind to all this insight you don’t usually have access to.”

So far, Masters has devoted three weeks plus travel time to the retreats, as well as more than CDN $20,000, excluding flights. However, compared to a lifetime of weekly mental health sessions, she considers it a bargain and is already planning her return to The Sentinel next year.

Despite their promise, psychedelics are illegal in most parts of the world. However, regulations are changing rapidly. In Canada alone, British Columbia decriminalized possession of small amounts of certain substances, including MDMA, in 2022; that same year, Quebec allowed a private facility to administer psilocybin and MDMA, while New Brunswick welcomed Field Trip Health, which treats PTSD using ketamine; and in 2023, Alberta authorized certain psychedelics for therapeutic purposes.

Still, psychedelics remain hard to access. Rather than forcing consumers to buy unregulated drugs off the street or jump through hoops for a prescription, many retreats aim to provide a streamlined, safety-monitored experience, complete with screening and guided supervision. “When you take a psychedelic substance, you’re in a vulnerable, compromised state,” cautions Williams. There is the risk of serious complications, heart attack or stroke, for example, and clients are entirely dependent on retreat staff to get medical help. Ideally, it will be available on- site via a physician or nurse, but is often far less accessible. “You might be in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language or you’re in a remote area and far from a hospital,” she says. Reputable retreats do thorough medical screenings for prescription interactions, as well as pre-existing physical and mental health issues such as heart conditions, schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. Even so, guests have to sign lengthy legal waivers to participate.

Emotional vulnerability can also be a concern. “If you have mental health issues, it could kick up a lot of dust for you,” says Williams, who experienced a psychedelic therapy session that revealed a hidden trauma. For these moments, she suggests psychedelic dice-rollers have their therapist on speed dial. “There’s also a phenomenon where people under the influence of these substances think that their shaman is in love with them.” An unethical guide could take advantage of that state, which is why many retreats have hosts operating in pairs to keep all parties safe.

This is why standardized training for guides is gaining momentum. At Vancouver Island University, Professor Shannon Dames helped develop the Psychedelic-Assisted Therapy Graduate Certificate program. “Many of our students have been practising underground for a long time. Now, they want to practise in a regulated space,” says Dames. After studying psychedelic medicine, trauma-informed and inclusive care, and ethics of practice, many grads become guides or retreat hosts. “For people who have been suffering for years—who have tried everything they can, and nothing is working—psychedelics could be a good option,” says Dames. “For some people, it is life or death.”

When choosing a retreat, being a discerning shopper is imperative. “Look for a retreat with ethics, integrity and accountability,” says Dames. “Do tons of research and then some more. Rely on word-of-mouth recommendations and look for a multidisciplinary team that makes sure everyone’s body, brains and spirit are safe.”

Safety aside, while psychedelic retreats can create powerful change in people’s lives, they aren’t a silver bullet or cure-all. “Have modest expectations,” says Williams. “Be hopeful and optimistic that you’ll see improvements, but don’t expect that you’re going to change your life.” In her research, she’s found that one or two people tend to have incredible, life-changing experiences in every group of 12 to 15. “Usually, a couple of people really struggle, and it takes months before they feel like themselves again,” she notes. The rest have good experiences, but their problems don’t magically vanish.

For Johnson, the impacts continue to manifest one year after his time with The Journeymen Collective. During the retreat, he recalls Grover and Logan telling him that thoughts and ideas would call to him and he should follow—throughout his psychedelic journeys and afterwards. “I’ve been leaning into gut feelings in my business life [instead of overthinking] things,” he says, and it’s paid off. “By the end of this year, through acquisition and natural growth, our business revenues will be double what they were a year ago.”

Johnson plans to return to The Journeymen Collective in the next few years, but, in the meantime, he’s in a better mindset to appreciate his success. “I’m much calmer and thoughtful now. I slow down to think things through,” he notes. “I remember the state I was in while there and I try to replicate it every day—without psychedelics, of course.” In the end, psychedelic retreats may not just offer an escape from reality, but also a return to it—with a renewed sense of purpose.