The Ibogaine Journey

Insights and reflections for preparation and navigation of ibogaine experiences.

*This text was written by our team member Jimena, you can also find it on her Substack, https://psiconauta.substack.com/

For months, I’ve been wanting to write down some insights I’ve found helpful in preparing for and navigating ibogaine experiences, some drawn from my experience, others shared in websites, papers and interviews with friends, practitioners, providers and patients. This piece is an attempt to put into words what has been knocking at the doors of my consciousness: a quiet urgency to share with you some thoughts of what may be one of the most significant encounters of our lives.

A methodology for self-inquiry

Ibogaine is considered one of the most powerful and complex psychoactive substances known, and its full effects on the human brain are still not completely understood. As a polypharmacological compound, it acts on a variety of receptors in the brain, producing effects that emerge from interactions across multiple neurotransmitter systems, resulting in a wide range of psychological, neurological, and physiological responses.

Another distinctive feature of ibogaine is its extended duration. While most psychedelics peak within 4 to 6 hours and taper off by 12, an ibogaine journey has different phases and can last anywhere from 24 to 36 hours—or longer.

The first is the visionary phase, which typically begins within the first one to two hours after ingestion and may last for six to eight hours. During this time, you could experience dream-like visions that may resemble deep autobiographical or transpersonal material. Or you “may not have visions at all, but instead intense mental activity, flooded with thoughts, insights and realizations” (Frank, 2013).

As Alper and Lotsof explained in The Use of Ibogaine in the Treatment of Addictions:

“The visual phenomena experienced by individuals under the effects of ibogaine are often described as extremely dense, resembling an accelerated film in which each frame can trigger a cascade of related images. Some of these visuals are deeply personal and readily interpreted within the context of the individual’s life story. Others take on a more archetypal or transpersonal quality, touching on themes such as creation, prehistory, and human evolution. Surreal or cartoon-like imagery, sometimes humorous in nature, is also commonly reported”.

This visionary phase can feel like being guided through your inner world by a kind of hyperintelligence, a sometimes humorous one, that shows you how your mind works, unburies memories, sorts through long-forgotten contents, and runs a defragmentation process in your brain, like “cleaning up the folders and files on a computer hard drive” (ICEERS, 2019).

But it is important that we do not become attached to receiving visions from iboga or ibogaine, or expect them to arise in a certain way. The information that it gives us can be cryptic, symbolic, abstract, methaphorical and so elusive that we may only begin to understand it or assign meaning to it weeks, months, or even years after our session. So, let's give it a lot of space, allowing some mystery to be part of the experience.

As the intensity of visions or thoughts from the first phase begin to fade, the journey enters the reflective phase, which typically spans from hour 8 to around hour 20. Here, the experience becomes quieter and contemplative. People often remain physically still, with their eyes closed, immersed in internal dialogue. This is a powerful window for emotional integration and meaning-making, as the psyche will begin to digest the materials that may have surfaced.

Following this comes the residual or integration phase, which can last from around hour 20 to 36 or more. At this point, the acute effects of the medicine taper off, but the internal work continues. Many people describe a sense of spaciousness in the mind, as if something has been cleared. Others feel emotionally neutral and reflective, or as though they’re experiencing a kind of sacred pause. To me, the felt sense of this state is similar to one that emerges after hours or days of meditation, clean, spacious, and clear.

Finally, there is the post-acute integration window, which begins after the main effects wear off and can last days or even weeks. Sleep patterns may be disrupted, dreams may become vivid, and emotional openness and vulnerability may arise. Many people experience a sense of renewal, but also the need for self care, grounding, and support. In this final phase, I recommend creating an “integration nest”, a spacious agenda nurtured by moments you would enjoy: sunbathing on a terrace, listening to our favorite music, cooking nourishing meals, free drawing or writing, meditating, or walking in the forest. Prioritize what you love most, and go easy with the things you must do. If possible, avoid jumping back into a tight schedule or demanding agenda. Instead, allow for open, unstructured days, spacious enough to tailor and follow routines based on your needs and wants. This is a rebirthing process, and you will be emerging from the egg.

Understanding these phases invites you to approach the ibogaine experience with patience, spaciousness, and reverence. It’s not something to simply “get through” or “complete,” nor is it something you should do. It’s something to be lived into—with total presence, creativity, and some courage. You are entering an extended psychotherapeutic period of growth within yourself.

So how can you prepare for ibogaine?

I think the best preparation is to be ready to spend a long time in your own company. As Peter Frank describes in Ibogaine Explained, “the worst case scenario is that you spent the entire time fearfully resisting your thoughts and wanting for the ibogaine to wash out of your body”. In this regard, one of the most valuable forms of preparation is, again, to learn to be with yourself, and become familiar with your own presence. After my second flood dose, I remember spending time sitting quietly on my terrace, simply contemplating, asking myself: If I was meeting with ibogaine just right now, what would emerge? What truth will come?

As Ryan Rich, creator of Healing Root, describes it, iboga works like a mirror that reflects how our mind operates, revealing behavioral patterns, especially those that no longer serve us. It helps us to recognize what has worked, what hasn’t, and why. And if we’ve experienced trauma, iboga may offer clarity around those situations, sometimes painful, but ultimately liberating. Like a mirror that reflects our truth, showing us what’s real and what's not. And once we begin to see who we really are, we may start to understand what we really want.

A few navigation tips

What follows are a few navigation tips, drawn from personal experience and the wisdom of others, that may be helpful in orienting yourself within the ibogaine journey.

Navigate ibogaine as a lucid dreaming experience

Ibogaine is best described as an oneirogenic substance, one that induces dream-like states of consciousness, rich in symbolism. The phenomenology of the subjective state produced by ibogaine has been described as a “waking dream,” distinct from the experiences induced by classical hallucinogens. Unlike psilocybin or ayahuasca, which often produce open-eye visual distortions, ibogaine’s visions and experience is mostly internal. They unfold within the mind’s eye, often, though not always, with eyes closed, and tend to be deeply personal, metaphorical, and introspective in nature.

These inner landscapes may reflect autobiographical material, symbolic narratives, or ancestral and transpersonal themes. The visual phenomena associated with ibogaine involve a sense of location within an internally represented dream landscape (Alper & Lotsof, 2007). In other words, ibogaine will speak to you in the language of the unconscious, through symbols and metaphors.

Although you might revisit or reenact early childhood memories, confront unresolved life moments, or even glimpse what feels like a potential future. Ibogaine visions, like dreams, can also be super cryptic, abstract, and chaotic. Some will not make sense, but even in their ambiguity, they could carry a signficance that could unfold over time—over days, months, and years.

For this reason, the more open we are to exploring the mysterious ways of the unconscious with curiosity, the better. And what better place to begin than by paying attention to our dreams? In Gestalt therapy, dreams are seen as messages from the self. Every element (whether a person, animal, object, or sensation) is considered a part of us. These elements of our psyche represent inner aspects seeking attention or integration. For example, if we dream of being an animal chased across a hill just before taking flight, we are not only the animal running, we are also the hill, the fear, the pursuer, the act of flying, and even the path or air beneath our feet. Each element has something to reveal about ourselves.

In this sense, by examining the elements that appear in our dreams as projections of ourselves is a way to practice curiosity and begin exploring the architecture of our own psyche. Rather than dismissing a dream as random or nonsensical, a Gestalt approximation to the dream would suggest to ask: What is this element of my dream trying to express… about myself? The same applies to the ibogaine visionary state. Rather than resisting visions or toughts, allow them to unfold, witness them and, if stuck in these loops, ask with real curiosity: What are you trying to show me?

I found this simple phrase to be a valuable navigation tool after my first ibogaine flood dose. During that journey, I found myself trapped in a loop. A gore image that appeared suddenly and kept returning, sometimes interrupted by other visions, but always circling back. It was grotesque machinery, a violent symbol looping on repeat. I felt stuck in resistance, resisting the image itself, resisting its reappearance, for what felt like hours, until I was completely exhausted. Finally, out of fatigue, I whispered, “Ok, I'm tired, what are you really trying to show me?” At that very moment, the image dissolved, like powdered ash scattered into the dark, and from it, in the middle of a perfectly theater-like scene, a little girl appeared: myself, five years old, wearing the same dress I used to wear at that age. I was trembling, afraid, and crushed by generations of inherited violence.

What struck me to the core was this: the terrifying darkness I had been resisting wasn’t some external force, some evil or monstrous entity, it was my forgotten, frightened little self. Later, in various psychotherapeutic sessions, I was able to explore the same image, its symbolism, connections, meanings. I could even revisit this image during a second ibogaine flood dose, where I could hold my little girl, bathe her, nurture her, and care for her, as a continuation of a personal inner child work allowed by ibogaine.

This method of approaching a specific vision or scenario with inquiry may mirror a technique used in lucid dreaming. In lucid dreaming, the dreamer becomes aware that they are dreaming and that they can actively engage with, influencing the plot of the dream. With consciousness being present, the dreamer may alter the narrative or interact with symbolic elements directly. You could do something similar while you navigate the ibogaine experience. While we may not have full control over the experience, you could try out a sense of agency, a willingness to inquire, and to shift your relationship with what arises. It might be as simple as staying present with some curiosity towards the material being shown to you, and asking: What is this trying to show me?

Like lucid dreaming, this capacity echoes the practice of mindfulness: becoming aware of the moment-to-moment shifts in perception, emotion, and insight as they unfold (Gerhardt & Baird, 2024). In this sense, the more we meditate, contemplate, or sit with our own mind, the more familiar we will become with your inner landscapes, their contents and the mechanisms that generate them, and the better equipped you could be to navitage the lucid dream-like state induced by ibogaine.

I believe, however, that ibogaine visions are not just projections of your own psyche. From a Jungian perspective, they also access the collective unconscious, the symbolic realm where archetypes, ancestral memory, and the shared fabric of human experience converge. For example, many individuals report archetypal encounters, ancestral presences, devas or mythic themes that feel profoundly transpersonal, offering glimpses into myths, or allowing true ancestral and divine encounters. In clinical settings outside of Africa, such as IbogaQuest in Mexico or various clinics in Europe, some people report visions or sensory experiences that include African motiffs, despite being physically far from the continent. As described by Julien Bonhomme in From Bwiti to Ibogaine and Back: A Transnational History of Tabernanthe Iboga, “one individual who received ibogaine treatment in an anonymous hotel room in Amsterdam in 1989 described hearing African drums, walking through the heart of the equatorial forest, and encountering a Pygmy during the experience” (Bonhomme, 2023).

How can we explain this? I don´t know! But I like to think of ibogaine as The Aleph, described in Jorge Luis Borges´s fictional short story as a multidimensional doorway through which all places in the universe can be seen from every angle, simultaneously. It’s as if ibogaine grants access not only to the landscapes of our personal psyche, but also to the deep terrain of the collective unconscious, transcending linear time and ordinary perception. As a nganga (a bwiti shaman) in Gabon once told me, “with Iboga you will be able to see the past, the present, and the future.”

Navigate ibogaine as a meditative, somatic experience.

If you begin to unpack your story ahead of time through meditation and psychoterapy, ibogaine will work as your ally in catalyzing meaningful work, rather than overwhelm you with it. In fact, many of the insights that people attribute to ibogaine were already waiting for their attention: half-formed thoughts, unnamed truths, secrets, pending discussions or confrontations, and long-forgotten memories finally given a stage.

Recently, I completed a three-day Vipassana retreat; it was my second Vipassana experience. I was eager to finally understand the Vipassana technique, since I felt that the first time I hadn’t really caught much. This time, something finally clicked: the felt sense of equanimity, the possibility of experiencing any sensation, no matter how uncomfortable or pleasant, with the same spacious neutrality. Not attaching to it, not rejecting it. Just sit with it. I realized that cultivating a felt sense of spaciousness through a Vipassana retreat before navigating ibogaine can be a most powerful resource for the journeyer.

Another precious resource is, of course, the breath. I once heard Parvati Nath, a Sri Vidya teacher, say: “We don’t take the breath, we receive it.” Hearing this, and actually feeling how I just receive the breathing, regardless of whether I want it or not, brought me so much comfort. It brings the felt sense of surrendering in confort, the recognition that sometimes, we are not the “doers” of our experiences. Just to be able to acknowledge and receive our breath as a given anchor that will always be there for us. These somatic anchors, the breath, the spacious body, the ability to stay with any sensation, and even wear the most comfortable and precious clothes for the experience can serve as inner resources that prepare the body and attune it to the journey. And what better container is there to experience the comfort of safety than our home: the body itself?

While working at IbogaQuest, I observe how some participants arrive to their ibogaine experiences with a dysregulated nervous system, displaying signs of hypervigilance and an overactivated sympathetic response. This state of dysregulation may be rooted in trauma and structural violence, or just by the accumulated effects of chronic stress and emotional overwhelm common in our lives. When the nervous system is stuck in survival mode (fight, flight, or freeze) it can feel nearly impossible to surrender to the experience and trust the process of ibogaine, because there is no true sense of safety within the body. And ibogaine, being such a profound and extended journey, will ask for your full presence, and without access to internal safety, that request may feel impossible.

This is where Somatic Experiencing and other body-based modalities can support the nervous system in discharging the energy of hyperactivation, building interoceptive awareness, and expanding what Peter Levine and Bessel van der Kolk call the “window of tolerance”, which is our ability to be present without becoming overwhelmed. Approaching the ibogaine journey with a more regulated nervous system, we can begin to rewire the body’s relationship to fear and control, where instead, it is safe to feel and it is safe to stay. Building moments of grounding, safety, and connection through these techniques in advance can prepare and strengthen your somatic container for deep journeying.

One of my teachers, a psychotherapist I deeply respect, would say that the attitude we need to cultivate is that of a “benevolent witness: a spacious presence that says: I am here. I see you. I hear you.”

In my opinion, Vipassana meditation and body-oriented psychotherapeutic techniques will be a powerful combo to prepare and accompany ibogaine sessions. Together, they help cultivate acceptance, and ultimately, forgiveness. Learning to stand within your own history with compassion and a sense of honor (and humor?) can make all the difference, not only during ibogaine experiences, but throughout our lives. Perhaps then we might begin to soften the inner battleground, and make it spacious and comfortable for some grace to enter?

Is psychotherapy needed? Well, if you’re able to fully embrace yourself in advance without it, maybe not. But the character is a hard nut to crack. It represents our defensive or neurotic structure, that constellation of ingrained beliefs, emotional reactivity, coping strategies, and old relational patterns that may be ready to shift through deep inner work, and are often brought to the surface, magnified or confronted by ibogaine.

Claudio Naranjo, a Chilean psychotherapist and psychonaut, described the character of a person as a crystallized set of emotional and behavioral defenses, formed early in life as adaptive responses to unmet needs and emotional wounding. In his work with psychedelics, Claudio observed that the character will inevitably surface in altered states of consciousness. Whether we tend to avoid suffering or cling to it, expand outward in enactment or contract inward in fear, our character reveals itself in the distinct “flavors” of how we experience and respond to a psychedelic process.

But like an old suit, our character structure restricts us, tightening around our aliveness, our creativity, and the natural flow of our being. In the chapter on ibogaine of his book, The Healing Journey, Claudio describes this recognition of character through the words of one of his patients, who spoke of noticing a split between borrowed behaviors and movements that were “not his”, actions not coming from his inner being. This awareness of masks, of how faces are manipulated, and of the fear that lies behind them, sparked a new longing for depth: in experience, in action, and in relationships. What he described is something many encounter with iboga, a revelation of what is true or genuine, and the simultaneous recognition of what is false. A deep knowing that there are diluted, incomplete aspects of the world: half-truths, inherited roles, human attitudes that are not whole.

A Gestalt teacher once described a neurotic person as “one who interrupts themselves”, cutting off their spontaneous expression and not allowing their true self to just be. At some point, we are called to shed these old patterns, not to destroy who we’ve been, but to accept ourselves and reclaim the wholeness of who we truly are. In this way, meeting our character and the aspects of our neurotic patterns with awareness and acceptance, rather than judgment or shame, is a doorway to transformation. And psychotherapy is just a great tool for this.

Navigate as a rite of passage, a process of death and rebith.

As noted in ICEERS article “Deciding to Take Iboga or Ibogaine,” the ibogaine journey is traditionally understood as a rite of passage, a symbolic death and rebirth voyage where the initiate is said to visit the ancestors and return transformed: reborn into adulthood or into a more integrated and healed version of themselves.

As described in the book Iboga: The Visionary Root of African Shamanism “initiation in Bwiti is a voyage of birth towards death, and then of the rebirth of a new being, following the path of clairvoyance and deep knowledge of the mysteries of the world”. These initiatory rites, practiced within Bwiti primarily in Central Africa, especially in Gabon, Cameroon, and parts of the Republic of Congo, are multi-day processes in which the aspiring initiate, or banzi, ingests large quantities of iboga root bark within a ceremonial setting infused with the ancestral technologies of the forest. These rituals include the sacred presence of fire (as a central axis and spiritual force), music (as a vehicle to invoke and transport the spirits), powerful, vital dances, and a series of symbolic ritual enactments guided by other initiates.

Bwiti ceremony in Gabon, photo taken by Jimena Iyari

As explained in The Holy Spirit of Iboga and a Contemporary Perspective on Africa's Spiritual Renaissance: Focus on Gabonese Bwiti Tradition:

The purpose of this journey is to access the spiritual realm of the ancestors and encounter sacred figures from Tsogo cosmology, such as Kombe (the Sun), Ngonde (the Moon), and Disumba, the first Mother. These visions are not interpreted in isolation; instead, they are embedded within a collective ritual framework. Scenes are enacted communally, and the meanings of visions are explored afterward with the elders’ support and wisdom.

Indeed, in the Bwiti tradition, initiation marks the beginning of a lifelong path of learning, rooted in community, rituals, and the teachings of the ancestors. While I have not yet undergone an initiation myself and cannot speak from direct experience, I witnessed and participated in three bwiti ceremonies in Gabon, some of which I found to be profoundly elaborate, with every element of the ritual imbued with intention and meaning. True tribal celebrations of planetary existence, charged with sacred energy, comparable in depth and potency to Vajrayana Buddhism pujas. As I now prepare for my own initiation, what I can say is that it is a personal and serious undertaking. It is not about following instructions or fulfilling someone else’s hopes. It is a calling that requires full agency.

One of my favorite aspects of the ritual container is the cleansing rites, including herbal baths, smoke clearings, purges, and other technologies meant to purify the body, mind, and spirit. The baths are prepared with carefully selected plants believed to draw out spiritual stagnation, energetic blockages, and emotional residues. They are often performed by flowing rivers, where the movement of water becomes the medium through which the energetic field is washed. These baths hold both ceremonial and energetic significance. Symbolically, they mark a threshold between the old self and the self that is ready to be initiated; energetically, is a way to clear the field and remove what no longer serves and to bring your bodies into receptivity.

The act of ritual cleansing through forest technologies is part of the initiation itself: a communion with forest elements, and a prayer that says: I am here. I am willing to begin.

This is where intention setting becomes a sacred act. Some ngangas recommend writing a letter, a simple, heartfelt offering that expresses what you are seeking, what you are ready to let go of, and what you are longing to become. I find this practice especially powerful when working with iboga, which so often invites the initiate to reexamine their life path and opens the door to future possibilities.

But to live a new life, you must first be ready to die.

While reflecting on this process with my dear friend Tobias Erny, director of the Global Ibogaine Therapy Alliance (GITA) and iboga connosseuir, suggested a useful preparation practice: the deathbed meditation. You lie down as if it were your final moment, this bed, these sheets, this breath, your last. You allow yourself to feel the stillness of the room, the gravity of impermanence. And then you ask: If this were truly the end, what would I release or let go of? Who or what would I forgive? While you engage in this practice, observe your fear and resistance. See if you can hold yourself, and even the idea of death, with a bit more lightness.

As if today could be a good day to die. This intentional surrender, practiced before the journey, can soften fear’s grip because iboga, in many ways, will ask you to die before you are reborn.

And once the way is cleared, once the body has been bathed, the resistance softened, and the field made receptive to let go, one question rises like a whisper from the soul:What do you want to give birth to?

A study about subjective experiences elicited by ibogaine in the context of a drug dependence treatment found that participants often received visions from ibogaine that clarified the roles they wanted to play in society, the businesses they hoped to build, or the education they longed to pursue. These insights were often accompanied by moments of emotional catharsis, clarity, and a renewed sense of purpose. In this way, setting your intentions with iboga is not merely about deciding what you want, and what you need to cultivate, it's about remaining open to what you want to give birth to.

The ibogaine journey, when held in deep presence, can resemble a rebirthing process, not only in metaphor, but in the very physiology of the experience, since it acts as a neurological reset, flooding the brain with growth factors and modulating key neurotransmitter systems such as serotonin, dopamine, and glutamate. This biochemical cascade often results in what many describe as a kind of neurochemical renewal that softens cravings, interrupts compulsive loops, and offers a profound sense of inner wisdom.

As I study rebirthing processes through Espacios Nacientes, a training led by Montserrat de Pablo and Chérif Chalakani, I’m learning how the experience of birth profoundly shapes the way we navigate crisis, change, and transformation throughout our lives. These early imprints, often unconscious, inform how we move through the world, and how we inhabit our bodies and relationships.

In this light, the ibogaine journey is a great opportunity to engage in the re-enactment of the primal act of birth, this time with presence, care, and awareness. As the layers of identity and resistance begin to dissolve, we may start to recognize the strategies we developed during that first passage: how we pushed, resisted, collapsed, or dissociated in order to survive.

Through a more conscious attitute towards our significant journeys, we are invited to heal the original rupture, in Cherif´s words: “the transition from water to air, from darkness to light, from fusion to autonomy”. In doing so, we will become more available to the unfolding of the present moment, more open to meet our future transitions, and all the symbolic births to come, with less fear, and a deeper trust in the organic flow of life.

A Basic Preparation Framework

Psychedelic preparation rests on three sacred pillars: psychoeducation, intention setting, and therapeutic alliance:

Psychoeducation is the groundwork. For this, you can learn about the phases of the ibogaine journey, the duration, intensity, and psychological terrains. A great resource for this is Peter Frank’s book Ibogaine Explained. And, of course, learn about the psychedelic setting: the ibogaine clinic or provider, reviews, safety protocols. Ask questions and connect via video call with your provider.

Intention setting is about tuning into what matters to you and your truest motivations. Pause and reflect on questions to the medicine: What am I ready to see? What am I ready to let go? What do I want to give birth to? Create your own intention ritual. A sincere letter can be your compass.

And most importantly, the therapeutic alliance. Whether with a therapist, guide, or provider, that will be the foundation of trust and containment for your journey. Having someone you can speak honestly with, before and after the session, is essential. This person will be your witness and a grounding presence as you metabolize and digest what emerges. That relationship will be as healing as the medicine itself.

And some practical preparation steps

a. Slow down

When we pause, we find depth. For moments, cut back on stimulation as much as you can. Reduce screen time, avoid some news, and stay away from content you wouldn’t want to revisit or reproduce during your precious encounter with ibogaine, especially in the days leading up to the experience. The more spacious your mind, the better. Give yourself permission to do less, and try to spend time simply being with yourself.

b. Meditate, journal, or pray daily

What in you is ready to die, and what is ready to be born? Whether through meditation, prayer, or writing, create space for inner dialogue and yearnings willing to speak. Journaling can be a way of getting honest with yourself.

c. Work with a coach or therapist

You should work with a therapist, coach, or experienced guide to clarify your motivations and strengthen your internal resources. You're not meant to do it all alone. Trust me, the support of

a good therapist or coach will be as healing as the medicine itself.

d. Build inner and physical strength

Take care of your nervous system. Move your body. Eat clean, nourishing food. Get good sleep. Hydrate. Replenisth with electrolytes, magnesium, potassium, sodium. You’ll want access to both stamina and softness.

e. Co-create your preparatory ritual

If you were going to meet a powerful teacher, how do you want to prepare your questions, your intentions, your offerings? Offer candle, incenses, flowers. Take baths. Ask the spirit of iboga to show you what you need to see. Let this be personal. Let it be sacred.

Some Closing Words

And yet, regardless of preparation and navigation maps: iboga will do what it wants. Like all great teachers, or mischievous tricksters, it may not care much for preconceived agendas. And as other psychedelics, it will give you what you need, not what you want, and rarely in the way you expected.

As a dearest psychonaut recently told me: “With ibogaine, expect the best… prepare for the worst”. So, be ready for the unexpected.

And please, don’t take any of this as fixed recipes, because the most beautiful part of the mystery is not knowing what will happen <3.

References

Alper, K. R., & Lotsof, H. S. (2007). The use of ibogaine in the treatment of addictions. In M.

Winkelman & T. B. Roberts (Eds.), Psychedelic Medicine: New Evidence for Hallucinogenic Substances as Treatments (Vol. 2, pp. 43–66). Westport, CT: Praeger/Greenwood.

Corkery, J. M. (2018). Ibogaine as a treatment for substance misuse: Potential benefits and practical dangers. In T. Calvey (Ed.), Progress in Brain Research (Vol. 242, pp. 217–257). Elsevier.

Frank, P. (2013). Ibogaine explained. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

Gerhardt E, Baird B. Frequent Lucid Dreaming Is Associated with Meditation Practice Styles, Meta-Awareness, and Trait Mindfulness. Brain Sci. 2024 May 14;14(5):496.

ICEERS. (2019, January 26). Deciding to take iboga or ibogaine. International Center for Ethnobotanical Education, Research & Service. https://www.iceers.org/interested-in-taking-ibogaine/

Naranjo, C. (1974). The healing journey: New approaches to consciousness. New York, NY: Pantheon Books

Nguema Bekale, A., & Alagidede, I. P. (2022). The Holy Spirit of Iboga and a contemporary perspective on Africa’s spiritual renaissance: Focus on Gabonese Bwiti tradition. Journal of Indigenous Studies and Spirituality, 2(1).