The Mushroom Trip That Changed How I See God, Religion, and Love

The other day, I put out a podcast titled “The Truth About Cult Leader Russell M. Nelson.”

In case you didn’t know, he was the recent leader of the Mormon Church, who passed away a few weeks ago at the age of 101.

At first, I wondered if the title was too much—if I was unfairly criticizing a good person.

To me, the logic made sense, and I enjoyed making the podcast. But like everyone, I sometimes struggle with the question of whether I’m on the right path in life. In the busyness of getting things done, I forget what I’m really doing and need to reset.

The idea of taking a dose of mushrooms for a “reset” is probably one of the more repulsive things to people in organized religion—but I’m going to ask you to hear me out.
(Or I guess you could stop reading if you’re scared.)

If you’ve done psychedelics enough, you know they must be done in the right setting—with a good intention.


Mushroom Trip

So I got everything ready and decided that I wanted to understand the principles of wealth and prosperity more deeply.

I made my mushroom tea, chose some good Native American flute music, and drank the tea.

Within ten minutes, I could tell this trip was going to be harder than I expected.

As it came on stronger, I felt an ego death approaching. After struggling against it for what felt like hours, I checked my phone—only thirty minutes had passed. That’s when I knew I was in for it and threw my phone across the room.

Because in an ego death, it can feel like you’re actually dying—and I knew I shouldn’t call 911.

That struggle against death on psychedelics is one of the most humbling experiences a person can go through.

I wasn’t expecting it because I only took 2.5 grams, and in the past, it had taken 4+ grams for an ego death.

As it really hit, I jumped up from my couch and laid on my bed. It turned out not to be too bad of an ego death; after a while, I went back to the couch.

But then it came on hard again, and I essentially lost my sense of consciousness—like being asleep.

That’s what rebirth feels like: when you’re waking up, you initially don’t know anything and are entirely at the mercy of the voices speaking to you—or the experience you’re in.


What the Messengers Taught Me

The first thing I remember was voices saying, “You have to love way more.”

It felt like one to two hours of them hammering this point: that I don’t love enough.

They brought my attention to the video I had made about Russell M. Nelson. I asked if I should change the title to remove “cult leader.”

They laughed and said, “No, your message isn’t wrong. We just need you to understand that you’re doing it with a degree of hatred that might be justified—but it can be guided through love.”

They took me through a deep understanding of modern religion—its necessity, its beauty, and its evil.

Basically, they showed me that love is the ultimate key to civilization, and that religion is necessary to tame our animalistic instincts.

We laughed at the irony: that religion exists to tame our animal nature, yet that same nature ends up taking over religion to control others.


The Problem With Organized Religion

They wanted me to understand something about Russell M. Nelson and other religious leaders:

They stand at the head of organizations that tame people’s animal instincts so we can live in peace.

But these same organizations are also fundamentally evil in how they suppress individual freedom and unconditional love.

It was as if they were rubbing my human nature with love—showing me that my own animal instincts were the real enemy, and that I needed far more love toward people.

They told me that the secret to wealth is love, and that in my business, I shouldn’t try to be clever or take advantage of people.

They showed me that true wealth may include money—but its foundation is good relationships and unconditional love.

Even if secret organizations or governments exist that manipulate and control, the only real solution for humanity is unconditional love.

They showed me a sperm cell and its struggle to survive—explaining that this is our animal nature. Society’s leaders, they said, must prioritize economies that prevent people from reverting to those survival instincts. Without stability, humans become animals again.


What They Said About My Father

We talked about my father—the good and the bad.

They told me he was deeply evil in the sense of pedophilia, but his greater evil was in controlling people through religion. Yet they wanted me to understand that Mormonism, and other religions, are “pure evil” not because of individual people, but because they discourage unconditional love.

They showed me my father’s inner struggle—how he truly believed in what he was doing—and called these organizations “pure evil.”

But they also told me that unconditional love is the only way to see beyond it.

An organization can be evil, they said, but the people inside it are often good.

We laughed again at the irony—that my animal instincts were railing against organizations designed to tame animal instincts. The message was clear:

Don’t let your animal instincts take over in your fight against evil organizations.

I also saw that while many people think the confusion around religion means we’re nearing “the end of the world,” it could instead be a rebirth—a time when we finally realize that unconditional love is the foundation of a prosperous society.


God vs. Evolution

I asked about God versus evolution, but they didn’t seem too interested.

They said, “Some things are obvious.” Whatever the truth is about our immortal spirit, it’s clear that our bodies come from sperm—and the animal within us must be tamed.

Once a group has met its survival needs, unconditional love is the only thing that can move civilization forward.

When we talked about my dad, they showed me many good people trying to stop him—but also how the original Mormon organization had confused him so deeply that he couldn’t see beyond it. They called it a kind of mental illness.

I think there’s a large group of people in society today who understand these things—at least to some degree.

The last hour of the trip, and the two hours reflecting afterward, were some of the most rewarding of my life. The understanding I gained felt complete.


Conclusion

I don’t take psychedelic experiences as truth unless they make logical sense.

I also understand fully that I’m no better than anyone else—and that anyone can have these kinds of experiences if they sincerely seek deeper understanding.

While I’ll still speak out against evil organizations, I’ll do it with a clearer mind and the conviction that unconditional love is the only real solution to a better future.

So I’ll end with this: whatever organization you belong to, I want to forget that and just give you love—even if we disagree.

Unconditional love and truth-telling aren’t opposites.
The goal is this:

Love people unconditionally, while speaking the truth as you understand it.

Love them just as much if they disagree with you as if they agree.

I can’t say I’m perfect at it—but I’m trying my best.

With love,
Jaden

You would also enjoy this article: Helping a Friend Leave a Cult: What Actually Works

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My podcast this week was on the music I discovered when leaving the FLDS Cult. You can watch that right here:

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