Why I’m Heading to the Largest Psychedelic Conference

MAPS, Denver 2025

Jun 05, 2025

I can’t tell you exactly when I first heard about MAPS. Probably a Joe Rogan episode, back when his podcast was less clickbait and more curiosity. But over the years, I’ve had friends go to their big conference. Every time, they came back saying the same thing:

“You’ve gotta go.”

So this year, I am.

Not because I’ve got a strategy or a brand to build. I’m not trying to “get ahead of the trend.” I’m going because this is where the movement is—where the leaders, the thinkers, the medicine carriers, and the system builders are all showing up.

And if I want to be part of what’s coming—not just in the ceremony space, but in the legal, public, boots-on-the-ground space—then I need to be there too.

That’s always been my life strategy: show up first, figure it out later.

What Is MAPS?

MAPS stands for the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies. They’ve been doing this work since 1986, way before psychedelics were “cool” again.

They’re the ones behind the movement to legalize MDMA-assisted therapy for PTSD. Their clinical trials have been game-changing—and they’ve already submitted the data to the FDA.

They also back research into psilocybin, LSD, ibogaine, ayahuasca, and other medicines that were buried by the drug war.

And on top of that, they run Zendo Project—a support system that helps people navigate challenging psychedelic experiences, especially at festivals and large events. Grounded. Caring. No hype.

MAPS is the backbone of the psychedelic movement. And their annual conference, Psychedelic Science, is where everyone doing meaningful work in this space comes together.

How I Got In (and Why It Matters)

This trip wouldn’t be happening without my brother Amrit.

We met through 1heart and stayed close ever since. He’s one of those people who isn’t just talking about consciousness—he’s building it into reality.

He created Nrvna—a mobile healing experience built into a van that uses sound, light, and vibration to take people into deep altered states. No substances. Just frequency and intention.

He’s brought the Nrvna van to a couple of my events, and it always leaves people speechless. Not because it’s flashy—but because it’s real. People walk in, sit down, and come out shifted.

Amrit introduced me to the Microdosing Collective, and they’re the ones who helped get me into the MAPS conference this year.

That’s the kind of community this is: people opening doors for each other, passing the medicine forward—even if the “medicine” looks like a van parked out back humming with light.

What the Conference Is About

MAPS 2025 is happening in Denver. 12,000+ people. 500+ speakers. Researchers, healers, veterans, therapists, entrepreneurs, activists, and artists all sharing space.

There’ll be panels on:

Psychedelics and trauma
Integration practices
Cultural responsibility
Legal and policy work
The ethics of facilitation
Conscious business and accessibility

But like everyone tells me, the best stuff doesn’t happen on stage. It’s in the hallways. The shared meals. The impromptu meetups. The soul-level conversations that aren’t recorded or scripted.

That’s what I’m showing up for.

The Ceremony I’m Not Missing

I’ve already got one thing circled: Snow Raven at the Portal Dome.

June 17. Full sensory experience. 360° dome, throat singing, light and sound turned up to full immersion.

This isn’t a concert—it’s a portal. And I’m walking in with my heart open.

The After-Hours Flow

I’ve heard the nights take on a life of their own.

There’s one gathering called The PRATI Party—live music, movement, real connections. Not a throwaway party. A celebration. A place to release, integrate, and connect in a different frequency.

I’m not chasing nightlife, but I’m not avoiding it either. If it feels right, I’m in. Sometimes the 1 a.m. conversations hit harder than the 1 p.m. keynotes.

Why I’m Really Going

Because I’ve seen what these medicines can do.

I’ve been broken open and put back together again. I’ve held people in ceremony, and I’ve been held. I’ve made mistakes. Learned. Grown. Sat with fear, grief, peace, and power—all in the same night.

But this isn’t just about my personal path anymore.

It’s about Kentucky. The South. Real places where this work could change lives—but where it’s still underground, misunderstood, or completely inaccessible.

I want to help bring this work home. In a way that’s safe. Legal. Grounded. Real.

This might be the second mountain for me. And MAPS is one of the first real steps.

Let’s get this motherf*cker going.

Homeless Moses

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