Healing in Community: The Transformative Potential of Group Psychedelic Therapy
- Demian Gitnacht, MD, MPH, FAAFP
- Aug 5
- 4 min read
Updated: Aug 11
There is something funny that happens when we imagine healing. Most of us picture ourselves sitting alone in a room, maybe on a couch or a meditation cushion, eyes closed, trying to “figure it all out” in total isolation. Cue the candles, soft music, and a heavy dose of internal struggle. It is a very heroic image. It is also, for many people, a bit misleading. Because sometimes the most profound healing does not happen alone. Sometimes, it happens in a room full of strangers who end up teaching you something about yourself that you could not have discovered on your own.
Let us talk about psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy in a group setting. I know, it sounds a little intense at first. The idea of having a deep, possibly emotional, certainly weird, inner experience while other people are doing the same thing nearby might feel like a big ask. And it is. But it is also a deeply human one. We are social creatures. We are wired for connection. And when done right, group work can bring out something in us that is hard to access in solo settings. It is not about putting on a performance or telling your life story to a circle of people holding singing bowls. It is about being witnessed. It is about feeling less alone in your struggle and realizing that the strange, messy, beautiful process of healing is not just yours. It is ours.
There is a particular kind of magic that happens when a group drops in together. You might be lying on your mat, mid-journey, and hear someone else across the room begin to cry. And something inside you softens. Maybe it is the first time in months you have felt something real. Or maybe you hear someone share during integration about how they always felt like an outsider, and suddenly your own story clicks into place. There is a resonance that builds in group work. Not in a forced, team-building-exercise kind of way, but in a quiet, honest, deeply human way. It is a reminder that even in our most private pain, we are not the only ones feeling it.
The power of community, and even tribe, is not just about having people around. It is about being reminded that our inner battles, the ones we convince ourselves are too specific or too strange to share, are actually very familiar to others. We struggle side by side, often silently, believing we are the only ones falling apart inside. But in a group setting, those silent struggles begin to echo off each other. You start to see yourself in someone else's tears, in their joy, in the courage it took them to speak something out loud for the first time. And when you witness their process, it does something to yours. It gives you permission. It opens a door you had kept closed. Sometimes someone else’s moment in the medicine cracks open a part of you that you did not even realize was still shut tight.
Your own healing might begin because someone across the room said something that pierced right through your story. Or because they trembled through something you have never dared to touch. Or simply because they smiled at you after the session, eyes still glossy, and you saw yourself in that glance. Healing in community works not because we are trying to fix each other, but because we are finally willing to be real together. And that alone can shift something fundamental inside.
Group psychedelic sessions or retreats also offer something that individual therapy sometimes cannot: a shared field of support. You get to practice being seen and supported, but you also get to practice offering that support to others. And in doing so, you learn something about your own capacity to hold space. It is reciprocal. And it is powerful. The group becomes a mirror, a sounding board, a soft landing. You start to notice that your walls come down more easily when someone else is being brave first. You start to take bigger steps into your own process because the room feels safe enough to do so.
Of course, group work is not for everyone all the time. There are moments in life when solitude and privacy are essential. Some people carry traumas that make the idea of group work feel overwhelming. And that is okay. Safety comes first, and the setting has to match where you are in your process. But for those who are open to it, the group setting can accelerate healing in a way that is hard to describe until you experience it. It is a space where laughter and tears happen in the same breath. Where you can have a deeply personal revelation while someone next to you is singing softly or simply breathing beside you. It is not about doing it together in some synchronized dance. It is about being real in a space where others are being real too.
And yes, sharing your experience afterward with people who have been through their own version of the same terrain creates something lasting. You form bonds, sometimes quiet and unspoken, that are rooted in shared vulnerability. The kind of connection that does not require much explanation. The kind that feels like, “I get you, and you get me.” In a world that often rewards perfection and surface-level connection, that kind of authenticity can feel like oxygen.
At Kalea Wellness, we have watched group work change people’s lives. Not because the group solves everything, but because it reminds each person in the room that they are part of something bigger. Healing does not have to be a solo mission. Sometimes, it is more honest when it is not. So if you have ever wondered what it might be like to step into a room with others on their own healing path, maybe this is your invitation to consider that you do not have to do it all alone. Sometimes the medicine works best when there is someone else in the room, breathing beside you, doing the same courageous thing. We will be here when you are ready. Quietly holding the space, with presence and care, for whatever unfolds next.

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