DoubleBlind Issue 10

“I actually can’t believe we’ve made it to our tenth issue. It hasn’t been easy running an independent print magazine in the 21st century, but we’ve kept at it, thanks to your encouragement and support. And as we birth every issue into the world, we feel so incredibly blessed to be able to tell stories and feature people who we feel deeply deserve visibility within the exponentially-growing conversation around psychedelics. This is a special one for us, and we hope it provokes contemplation, conversation, catharsis, inspiration, and delight.”

— SHELBY HARTMAN (CEO & Co-Founder)

We’re in a moment of transitions, disruption, and seismic change—politically, seasonally, and, for many of us, it seems, spiritually, too. Our 10th issue honors and investigates that, from a stunning personal essay by Sophia Kercher on the psychedelic nature of giving birth to the need for rituals in our culture for holding space for grief and death. As journalist Nicolle Hodges writes, death can be literal, but it can also be figurative—as we allow parts of ourselves we’ve long clung to drift away. Writer Gabrielle Bellot explores this, opening up about the fear that’s lived within her as a trans person and how plant medicines allowed her to come into her gender identity. Meanwhile, Galician photographer Roberto de la Torre captures celebrations in remote communities of Spain and Portugal, where generations of families wear elaborate masks and costumes to mark solstices and equinoxes.

As always, our tenth edition seeks to complicate the narrative that psychedelics are always inherently good—or make people more liberal. In the magazine, reporter Mary Carreon does a deep dive into the historical relationship between psychedelics and extremist ideologies, including the birth of 4Chan and Qanon, while journalist Robyn Huang speaks with curanderas in Oaxaca who are quietly helping Mazatec women heal from the trauma of abuse, some of which was initially caused during mushroom ceremonies. We also go to Detroit where we spend time in the home of Ayana Iyi, a legend who is known for doing high-dose work. Amidst the continued uncertainty of how the psychedelic industry will develop—and the uncertainty of this moment in human history, more broadly—space holders, from Oaxaca to Detroit, continue to do their work, as they always have, committed as ever to the growing need for safe spaces to heal. From the personal to the systemic, these conversations feel particularly timely—and we hope that DoubleBlind continues to be a critical and compassionate place for them to unfold.