New 12-month follow-up data adds to a growing body of research exploring ibogaine's potential for traumatic brain injury.

In 2024, researchers at Stanford published the first findings from a study following 30 Special Operations veterans with a history of traumatic brain injury who underwent magnesium-ibogaine treatment in Mexico. The initial results reported substantial improvements in disability, PTSD, depression and anxiety, alongside measurable improvements across several areas of cognitive functioning.

Since then, this has developed into something of a series, with further papers exploring what may be happening beneath those clinical changes, including changes in brain structure, neural activity and functional connectivity. Now, the latest paper brings us back to perhaps the most obvious question raised by those original findings: do the improvements last?

Until now, the picture essentially stopped at 30 days. We had the initial clinical and cognitive findings, alongside emerging evidence of associated changes in the brain, but we did not know what happened beyond that point. Did these improvements persist once participants returned to everyday life, or would they gradually fade? This latest study was designed to answer that question.

The researchers followed the original cohort out to 12 months, with 25 of the 30 participants completing the final assessment. The answer, at least for disability and psychiatric symptoms, appears remarkably encouraging. Significant improvements in disability, PTSD, depression and anxiety were still present one year after treatment, with large effect sizes across all four outcomes.

For me, though, there is something particularly exciting about watching this research develop. I became interested in the possibility that psychedelics might have a role to play in brain injury recovery at a time when there was very little research directly exploring that question. We are now seeing clinical, cognitive and biological signals beginning to build around the same idea. What could this mean for brain injury recovery and the future of neurorehabilitation?

My Questions

The cognitive improvements identified at 30 days were not followed up. The original study reported improvements across areas including processing speed, executive functioning, attention and memory, functions that can have a profound impact on everyday life after brain injury. If ibogaine has the potential to meaningfully improve these areas, understanding whether those changes persist beyond the first month is fascinating, and potentially hugely significant for brain injury rehabilitation.

I would also love to see 12-month neuroimaging from this cohort. Are the structural brain changes observed at 30 days still present a year later?

There is also one significant caveat when interpreting the 12-month results: 23 of the 25 veterans had used at least one psychedelic between the one- and 12-month assessments. This obviously makes it impossible to cleanly attribute the longer-term outcomes to ibogaine alone. Although, perhaps somewhat ironically, the confound itself is interesting: either the benefits of ibogaine proved remarkably durable, or further psychedelic experiences helped sustain them. However, this only strengthens the evidence that psychedelics have a meaningful, and potentially groundbreaking, role to play in brain injury recovery.

Part of what makes ibogaine interesting in brain injury is its potential relationship with neuroplasticity: the brain's ability to change, reorganise and form new connections. Preclinical research has linked ibogaine with neurotrophic factors including BDNF and GDNF, which are involved in neuronal growth, survival and plasticity. More recently, the Stanford research has started to give us human evidence of what some of that change might look like: one month after treatment, researchers reported increased cortical thickness, reduced predicted brain age, altered neural complexity, and changes in cerebral blood flow and functional connectivity. For a brain that has been injured, that possibility is obviously fascinating, particularly when considered alongside the improvements already observed in processing speed, executive functioning, attention and memory.

What could this mean for brain injury?

This is where these findings become particularly exciting for me. TBI remains a leading cause of disability worldwide, yet for people living with its chronic effects, our ability to meaningfully alter the underlying picture remains incredibly limited. Neurorehabilitation can be hugely valuable, but much of what we do is ultimately about helping people adapt, develop strategies, compensate for difficulties and find ways to function better.

This is what makes the emerging ibogaine research so interesting. Psychedelics are increasingly associated with neuroplasticity, and the research from this cohort has now reported changes spanning brain structure and function alongside improvements in cognition, disability and psychiatric symptoms. For someone living with brain injury, improvements in areas such as executive functioning, processing speed, memory, mood or trauma are not small outcomes. They could fundamentally change someone's everyday life.

For myself, working directly with people living with brain injury, the need for something different is strikingly obvious. I see the limitations people continue to live with, often years after the original injury, and how few options exist that might meaningfully change those limitations. There is clearly much more research needed to explore the full potential of this medicine, particularly what it could mean for different brain injury populations, cognition, longer-term brain changes and, ultimately, recovery.

I have personally always believed in the potential of psychedelics for brain injury recovery, and the evidence is now moving the conversation beyond whether they have a place in brain injury treatment and neurorehabilitation. The question now is becoming how and when we integrate them.

References

Faerman, A., Lissemore, J. I., Geoly, A. D., Cherian, K. N., Sridhar, M., Kim, B., ... & Williams, N. R. (2026). Is ibogaine treatment durable? 12-month follow-up of magnesium-ibogaine therapy (MISTIC) in special operations veterans with traumatic brain injuries. Translational Psychiatry. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41398-026-04327-5

Reed, O. (2026). Exploring the potential of psychedelics in brain injury recovery: A thematic analysis of participant narratives. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/403758971_Exploring_the_potential_of_Psychedelics_in_Brain_Injury_Recovery_A_Thematic_Analysis_of_Participant_Narratives

Two months had passed since the directors had completed the Gathering Groups Community of Practice. The integration process was well underway, the energy flowing. The next step in the journey was to experience the process from the other side: to hold space for a group who had just completed the eight weeks of online preparation. Two Karuna directors would join the eight participants, two facilitators, and three representatives from Gathering Groups in The Netherlands to continue the journey together.

Below is one director’s account of this next step of the journey.

Two weeks before I make the journey back to the Netherlands, I join the group online. After introductions from the facilitators, the conversation quickly settles into a comfortable rhythm. I listen deeply to everyone's responses, sensing the embodied presence of the group. Even through a screen, the warmth is tangible. It all feels right.

Soon it is time to make the now familiar journey. Filled with excitement and anticipation, I step away from my everyday life and travel towards a place that has become deeply special to me. I find myself wondering whether this group will experience the same warmth, connection, and sense of belonging that we did. How will it feel for a group of people who, until now, have only ever met online?

We arrive several hours before the participants, giving us time to settle into the house and prepare. There is food to organise, sleeping spaces to arrange, roles to discuss and plans to make, both for the sharing circles and the ceremony. The structure is familiar, echoing the retreat I completed only two months before as a participant. Stepping into the role of space holder feels surprisingly natural, as though I already belong.

The participants arrive one by one, the house slowly filling with greetings, laughter and hugs. It is difficult to believe that many of these people are meeting in person for the first time. The warmth between them radiates through the house. Sharing food, making tea and wandering through the beautiful surroundings creates space for connection long before the formal opening circle begins.

As we gather for the first sharing circle, the other director and I introduce ourselves properly. Although we have already crossed paths with many of the participants throughout the afternoon, this is our first opportunity to join them within the container of the group. Any lingering sense of being an outsider quickly disappears. Once again, I find myself held within that familiar feeling of cosy connection: speaking, being heard and feeling deeply listened to.

Morning arrives quickly, and we gather again in the circle to share and strengthen intentions before the ceremony. The connections already feel quietly solid; I can see communitas unfolding in front of me. Everyone is deeply supportive of one another, attentive and emotionally attuned.

We write our intentions onto small cards before preparing the lemon tek tea together. The participants gently break apart the blessed truffles and leave them to steep before everyone settles into the ceremony space.

As the familiar soundtrack begins, I look around the room at the eight people resting in the circle, witnessing the process through a different lens. As the hours pass by, I witness the room moving through waves of stillness and expression. Some remain quietly beneath blankets and headphones for the entire journey. Others occasionally sit upright to observe the room. Some laugh, some cry, and some softly share parts of their experience with those nearby. Every expression is met with warmth, acceptance and love.

Several participants choose to spend time outside, accompanied by a space holder, connecting with nature, dancing barefoot in the sunshine, or simply sitting quietly among the trees. There is no sense of urgency, only trust in each person's unfolding process.

As the final track plays, some participants are already talking quietly together while others remain immersed beneath blankets, eyes covered and continuing their inward journey. Although the formal ceremony has ended, there is no pressure to return until ready. Fresh fruit is being passed around while others quietly prepare soup for later, allowing the transition back into ordinary awareness to happen gently.

Following the integration sharing circle and a nourishing meal, the evening becomes one of simple togetherness. We gather around the campfire, singing songs, telling stories, making music and laughing together. The nourishment comes not only from the food, but from the communitas itself. Connection no longer feels like something we are creating; it simply exists between us. Being together feels effortless. It feels natural. It feels right.

I wake on the final morning with a quiet sadness, knowing it is time to leave. We gather once more in the safety of the closing circle to say goodbye to people who, only days before, were strangers. While my own journey with the retreat is ending, theirs continues over the coming month as they support one another through integration.

As I leave the retreat, it is difficult to comprehend that an entirely different world exists beyond the boundaries of this house. Yet within a few hours I am back in the movement and noise of Amsterdam and, soon after, on a flight home. Returning to everyday life, I carry with me the love, connection and quiet magic of the experience. Witnessing the process as a space holder deepens my understanding of communitas even further. I realise that healing is found not only through my own experience, but also through the privilege of holding space for the journeys of others.

The next step - facilitation.

Over the course of a 12-week transformational retreat with Gathering Groups and Karuna in the Netherlands, I embarked on a deeply intentional journey of self-discovery, healing, and renewal. Through embodiment practices, shared experiences, and honest self-inquiry, I began releasing old patterns and beliefs that no longer aligned with who I was becoming.

One of the most powerful aspects of this experience was the healing that emerged within the group itself. Witnessing and being witnessed by others created a profound sense of connection, belonging, and acceptance. The collective courage, compassion, and authenticity within the group became a catalyst for growth, reminding me that transformation does not always happen in isolation it can unfold through community, shared humanity, and meaningful relationships.

This journey invited me to awaken to life in a new way reconnecting with my authentic self, opening my heart to new possibilities, and embracing the unknown with greater trust and courage. I emerged feeling more alive, grounded, and empowered, with a deeper sense of purpose and a stronger connection to myself and others. It was not about becoming someone new, but about uncovering a truer, more wholehearted version of who I have always been.

Through connections with Exeter Uni, our team of Karuna directors learned about a research project they were collaborating on alongside a Canadian non-profit organisation, Gathering Groups. Gathering Groups run a 12 week, legal, structured community based programme incorporating preparation, education, community building and a 2-night psilocybin retreat followed by four weeks of integration.  

After connecting with them over the summer, we discovered we shared the same values and purpose around affordable, accessible and non-hierarchical community of practice retreats. We signed up to complete their 12 week course between November 2025 and February 2026.  Our seven Karuna directors were joined by  Anne Rossignol from Psychedelics In Recovery to form a group of eight people who would experience this journey together at every step. 

Below is an account of one of our director’s experiences.

Our Online Preparation

We had been planning this journey for several months when, the day before our first online meeting, an email arrives from Gathering Groups with a question:

‘What in your life brought you to this journey? Who would you like to be at the end of it? You will have three minutes to share your answer.’

The question spins around my mind non stop the following day. Will I really be able to speak for three whole minutes? What will I say?  The day passes quickly and before I knew it the appointment time had arrived. I spread my notes across the table and click “join.”

As our eight faces popped up on the screen we are warmly greeted by Peg and Heather, the group facilitators and co-founders of Gathering Groups. After sharing a few grounding breaths, we are each invited to offer two words to describe how we were feeling in that moment: one physical and one emotional. Peg and Heather go first before gently inviting the rest of us in. The facilitators are very much equal members of the group, opening up and sharing the vulnerability. After housekeeping and a short video introducing the week’s theme, it’s time for the share.

There is three minutes each to answer the question, followed by two minutes of embodied listening responses from the group — personal reflections to each share, expressing how our bodies feel the words offered. “When you said…, I felt… in my……”. Even through screens, in that strange hyperspace of online connection, there is something profoundly physical and real about that connection.

I surprise myself and speak for the full three minutes. More importantly than that, I feel heard. The responses from others are warm, open, vulnerable. There is a sense of safety and deep empathy that allows honesty to surface.

This becomes our rhythm for the next seven weeks. The format remains consistent, yet fluid. We explore different themes — breathwork, meditation, Internal Family Systems and nervous system regulation, amongst others  — always returning to embodied listening and a flat structure where every voice matters. Trust deepens week by week. What begins as tentative sharing grows into something rooted and real. We begin to understand ourselves and each other in tandem, one process feeding the other.

At the close of the eighth session, the excitement is tangible. We know next time we meet we would be in 3D.

The Retreat Weekend

I meet the others outside the airport, the bright afternoon sun mirroring our moods. When we pull up to a beautiful stone building set within expansive grounds and surrounded by ancient trees, I know it is the perfect setting. Walking into the building, Peg, Heather, and three space-holders, who we have already met online, greet us with tea, snacks and easy warmth.

Once settled, we gather in the main space for our first in-person sharing circle. I flop onto a beanbag and immediately feel the familiarity of the process — like slipping into a well-worn, comfortable jumper. We share how we feel physically and emotionally. Each of us brings a small amulet or meaningful object to guide and ground us, introducing it to the group. Intentions are spoken and reflected back, before being distilled into short phrases written on cards that we keep beside us during our journey the next day.

Despite the anticipation, I sleep deeply that night.

The next morning, after a light breakfast, we prepare the psilocybin tea together, offering gratitude before pouring. We label our chosen cups and enter the journey space; eight mattresses arranged in a circle around a central table holding a selection of sacred objects. Heather blesses the space, turning to each of the four cardinal directions - offering gratitude to the ancient trees beyond the walls as well as respect for the ground that supports us.

Masks on. Headphones over ears.

The effects of the lemon-tek tea comes on gently but unmistakably — colours and shapes forming whilst consciousness softly dissolves. Soon I am fully immersed. The carefully curated playlist carries us on our individual journeys, together. If I lift my headphones and hear the same music filling the room, anchoring us in shared experience.

My journey feels warm and expansive, filled with love and quiet magic. Occasionally I sit up, removing my mask to reorient. Each time, my gaze meets one of the space-holders offering a universal, silent gesture: “Are you okay?”. I am.

Time stretches, disappears and folds. Hours feel like moments — or lifetimes. There are whispered conversations, cards drawn, incense fanned through the air, essential oils passed around. Nearing the end, around four hours later, a few of us step outside with a facilitator, wandering amongst animals and plants, eventually planting a sprouting acorn in the earth.

As the journey draws to a close, we regroup naturally in a circle around the central table. “Here Comes the Sun” plays as sunlight streams through the open doors. We dance softly in the beams. Then come pens and paper. We are invited to draw our journeys — not to create something beautiful, but something truly reflective of our experience.

Later, I spend hours outside in nature, talking quietly with others. Another delicious meal is shared around the table. That evening we return to our nests in the shared space, offering our drawings and stories to the circle. The embodied responses feel deeper now — more powerful, more meaningful. Integration begins the next morning with a sharing circle, structured reflections and a gradual tuning back into everyday reality. We laugh a lot and feel comfortable in any vulnerability

Our Online Integration

A week later we meet online again. The structure is the same, but something has shifted. We settle in easily, yet there is a noticeable change — both individually and collectively. The conversations are more honest, more trusting. Four weeks of integration, while our brains are still open to change, consolidates our intentions and experiences into noticeable changes that we celebrate together. It feels safe and thorough. 

The first online preparation session was filled with nervousness, uncertainty and self consciousness.

The last integration session is filled with excitement, tenderness, as well as recognition of how much has been transformed within us, both as individuals and as a group.

The learning still continues — about ourselves, about the process, but most of all about community. What begins as eight faces on a screen becomes something living and connected. And in ways I cannot yet fully name, I am already becoming the person I hoped to be.

Karuna Communitas began with a shared question: how can we create compassionate, community-centred pathways to healing that are safe, ethical and accessible?

The idea took shape through conversations with fellow students on the University of Exeter Psychedelics programme. As we shared experiences and recommendations around medicine retreats, recurring concerns emerged. Legal retreats outside the UK, where such work is permitted, are often prohibitively expensive for those who may benefit from them most.

We also noticed that many retreat models focus almost exclusively on the experience itself. Preparation beforehand, integration afterwards, and meaningful community-building are often limited or absent altogether, despite being central to lasting change.

In response, we formed a group to explore a different approach. We asked what it might look like to create a not-for-profit organisation offering affordable, community-focused, legal retreats grounded in care across the full arc of the experience, where and when legally permitted.

We believe that much of the healing lies in the power of the group. Context matters deeply. Intentional preparation helps nurture mindset, trust, and shared purpose, while cultivating a sense of communitas before a retreat even begins. Integration is equally vital. After transformative experiences, people are often left to make sense of profound insights on their own. With thoughtful integration practices and ongoing support, these experiences can lead to meaningful and lasting changes in everyday life.

The name Karuna Communitas reflects this ethos. Karuna points to compassion expressed through action. Communitas speaks to the deep connection that can emerge through shared experience beyond hierarchy or status. Together, they form the foundation of our work.

Our Mission

Karuna Communitas exists to create and sustain a not-for-profit, community-led model for safe, ethical, and accessible transformative experiences.

Our mission is to reduce suffering and support ongoing wellbeing by prioritising preparation, integration, and community as essential elements of any transformative process. We aim to make these experiences more accessible, particularly for those facing financial, social, or structural barriers.

We do this by developing cooperative and reciprocal models of care, fostering long-term community connection, and supporting ethical, trauma-informed practices. Rather than offering one-off experiences, we focus on building supportive networks that help people integrate insight into their lives and relationships.

At the heart of Karuna Communitas is a commitment to compassion, inclusivity, and shared responsibility. We believe that when healing is held within community, it becomes more sustainable, more ethical and more deeply transformative.

🎉 Karuna Communitas is now officially formed as a Company Limited by Guarantee

Today marks an important step in our journey. Karuna Communitas has been formally established as a CLG, created to serve as a not for profit home for a growing community built on compassion, reciprocity and shared purpose.

Our vision is simple and heartfelt. We aim to build a responsive social network of people who want to share their time and abilities so that transformative psychedelic experiences become accessible to more individuals, especially those who would otherwise have no way to reach them.

We believe in co operative approaches to healing, in inclusivity, in a sense of belonging for all, and in the power of community held support.

Karuna Communitas exists to nurture and sustain a vibrant community that works with these medicines to ease mental, emotional and physical suffering while encouraging safe, continued growth and wellbeing.

Thank you for being here at the beginning. More updates, invitations and opportunities to get involved will follow soon. 💚