Colorful decorative mushrooms on yard signs and scattered on the ground serve as the breadcrumbs that lead the way to the Colorado Psychedelic Church.

They point to the lower level of a large home in eastern Colorado Springs, where a trippy world awaits.

Congregants sink into cushy, enveloping chairs, couches and a bean bag or two. Amid a tasteful decor of hanging faux greenery and low lighting, members wander in and out of the basement and talk, listen to founder Benji “Dez” Dezaval pontificate, play board games, share snacks, receive their weekly “communal gifts” of carefully weighed hallucinogenic mushrooms and seek to encounter the divine through an altered state of mind.

Partaking of the practice changes people for the better, Dezaval says, pointing to himself as an example.

“They saved my life. They fixed my brain. Everything you hear about the healing and transformative properties is true,” he said.

The congregation, which the state of Colorado does not recognize as a church, has grown so popular, it needs more room beyond a portion of his home, Dezaval said.

Membership has ballooned from 20 people when he started the congregation in February 2024 to 450 participants now.

Recently donated access to two parcels of land in Peyton and Fountain, each about 4 acres, have led to preparations to open retreat centers with yurts or renovated shipping containers where his church can meet and hold activities.

The expansion is moving fast. Dezaval anticipates a late summer opening for a new site, with an inaugural retreat for up to eight participants with one-on-one support. He’d like to dedicate that first retreat to veterans, in honor of another of the church’s founders, a military veteran who took his life.

“I see a huge jump in need for these medicines and the healing they provide,” Dezaval said.

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration has not approved psilocybin but has granted “breakthrough therapy” designation for two formulations being studied for safety and efficacy as a medical treatment for depression.

Dezaval, who has a degree in psychology from the University of Houston and worked at several mental health clinics, said he had been suicidal for years but after researching psychedelic mushrooms, he became a fan.

He got the idea to start the church after what he calls his “big trip” in January 2024.

After drinking mushroom tea, Dezaval found himself in a forest. He said he felt the sun on his scalp and smelled the green earth around him. A silhouetted figure stood in front of Dezaval, their eyes locked, and “we had an entire conversation in a minute,” he said.

The person was what he believed to be an ancestor from Mexico, who he understood had used mushrooms to heal people. Dezaval said he felt he was being directed to do the same.

“I’m not traditionally spiritual; I was a prophesying atheist,” he said. “This spiritual moment gave me an existential crisis. I felt my soul leave my body, and I met an ancestor back in time. I had an answer to help and heal people that gave me my direction.”

He started growing mushrooms and in February 2024 registered as an official entity with the state of Colorado.

However, his church has been defined as a “social club” and not a tax-deductible religious group, a decision he said he might appeal.

“The IRS can’t deny we’re a church; we don’t need permission, but their lack of recognition is factually incorrect,” Dezaval said. “A spiritual club that gets together to talk about spirituality is a church.”

‘We are a community’

There’s no praying at the Colorado Psychedelic Church. That commandment of sorts falls under the community’s three “Universal Truths.” The first is to “revere the self.”

“That’s taking care of your body, mind and soul. We reject thoughts and prayers; we expect actions and change,” Dezaval said.

Members also are asked to “embrace the communal experience” through events that include Tuesday night sermons on topics related to the self, the community and society; separate healing Thursdays for men, women, LGBTQ+ and people of color; monthly healings from past religious-related trauma; and Friday lounge nights, where attendees can hang out and consume psilocybin mushrooms.

It’s not required, Dezaval said, but hallucinogens are available in raw mushroom form, tea made from dried ground mushrooms, or a hallucinogenic cousin dimethyltryptamine, known as DMT, which can be smoked. Dried ground mushrooms also can be encapsulated or added to food such as chocolate, which Dezaval said can be used for microdosing.

Minors under age 21 are not allowed to attend events where adults are tripping onsite, Dezaval said, but are invited to family-friendly gatherings such as potluck meals and volunteer work such as Creek Week cleanup.

“We are the Psychedelic Church, but that’s not the first thing we are — we are a community,” he said. “Our ancestors knew that we are connected people living with each other’s burdens and sharing each other’s joys. There is protection in numbers from the fires that burn outside and from the demons who live within.”

The church’s final edict is that “the universe provides a message that is meant for you.”

Whatever spiritual leader a person accepts, from God to Buddha to Gaia, that being provides “the right answer so long as you’re doing something possible,” Dezaval preaches.

“If the universe has told you to hate, that’s somebody with an agenda and is not the universe; it’s somebody intercepting it.”

Another principle of the Psychedelic Church — which is also known as The Community of PACK Life, an acronym for Protection, Acceptance, Communication and Kairos — is no “malice of heart.” That means no judging and no shaming, just a chill atmosphere of acceptance free of racism, sexism and other discrimination, Dezaval said.

“If we do all these things, we can act on moments of Kairos, an opportune moment that is not fate or destiny — it does not happen without you but requires action,” he said.

To anyone who gets cult vibes, Dezaval says he’s not the leader and that his church is “we,” not “he.” In honor of his direct Aztec descent from his great- great-grandmother, Dezaval goes by the title of “Teopixqui,” which means “guard of god” in an Aztec language.

“It felt fitting,” he said.

‘There are spiritual changes happening’

Members say the ability to be themselves at the Psychedelic Church is noticeable.

“I can reach out to my friends without fearing rejection. I can offer my help and reach out if I need help,” said Sara Snapp, a former librarian and mom of two. “My psychedelic journey opened my mind to new things, but joining this community changed my life. I have friends. I feel accepted in a way I never felt accepted anywhere else.”

Snapp, 39, joined the church in May, after suffering from depression for 10 years. Anxiety left her “incredibly fearful,” to the point that she could barely converse with people and avoided crowds.

“I felt very isolated,” she said.

In January 2024, Snapp took a guided hallucinogenic trip and said she realized her loneliness was a result of the barriers she had put up around herself.

“I was lonely and looking for connection,” she said.

Snapp said her revelations have given her more confidence to try new things like roller skating.

And with a degree in religion, Snapp said her spirituality has been mobilized by the Psychedelic Church’s mantras.

Dezaval said Snapp is unrecognizable as a fearful person and is an example of the growth and strength that can occur at the church.

Snapp said she was suicidal after the birth of her first child and took medication but is now medication-free.

“I understand the perception, but we’re not a stinky drug den or a bunch of hippies,” Snapp said of the Psychedelic Church. “This does not feel like a social club or a nonprofit group. There are spiritual changes happening.”

A firepit in the backyard draws attendees, as does the bar inside where mushrooms in various forms are dispensed. Newbies listen to an orientation presentation to learn how everything works, along with safety measures.

A “trip space,” a curtained cubbyhole underneath a stairwell with black light that makes objects glow, is available for use, and trained safety guides work with people who are under the influence of mushrooms to help them deescalate from anxiety or fear, or answer questions and provide direction.

As Dezaval explains: “Once you take your tea, we start to pull threads; whenever someone wounds us we have to suture it really fast. We end up with scars, loose suture threads, and we’re opening these wounds with the intent of letting them heal properly.”

Two months ago, Philip Andrew, 49, had a bad trip that a staff member helped him ride out, as a wave of emotions crushed him.

Andrew, the son of a preacher and a former bartender, said he had been molested as a child and had “written off society and people all together.”

He was suicidal, wanting to just disappear, and “did not care about people in general” before he decided he needed to find a place where he doesn’t have to put on a virtual mask and can run around barefoot if he chooses.

“The community has helped me as much as any medicine,” he said. “We support each other spiritually, we enjoy each other’s company, we have fun together and we get to grow together.”

‘Natural medicine’

Indigenous peoples such as the Aztecs and Mayans left behind indications of including “sacred mushrooms” with psychoactive properties in their cultural traditions involving rituals, divine experiences, therapeutic methods and pleasure.

That’s evidenced by research analyzing pollen, pictographic writings, ceramic sculptures of figurines holding mushrooms and stone carvings of mushrooms, according to Harvard University’s Center for the Study of World Religions.

In the age of psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy — what is commonly referred to as the “Second Psychedelic Renaissance” — Denver became the first city in May 2019 to decriminalize psilocybin mushrooms, and in November 2022, Colorado became the second state in the nation to gain voter approval for statewide legalization of the possession and use of psilocybin and related products, though direct sale remains illegal.

Like medical marijuana — which Colorado legalized in 2000, and for recreational use in 2012 — psilocybin and DMT fall under the category of “natural medicine” because the hallucinogenic compounds are naturally occurring in some species of fungi.

Imbibers say that when used as a medicine, the chemical can help heal mental wounds from trauma, bring clarity in thinking and foster spiritual enlightenment.

But while “magic mushrooms” can produce euphoria, heightened sensory perception and bliss, side effects can include bad hallucinations that produce terror, anxiety, paranoia and panic.

Also, vomiting, dizziness, increased blood pressure, heart palpitations, muscle weakness, confusion, convulsions, symptoms of psychosis and coma are possible particularly with improper use, according to industry reports that include research from the federal National Institute on Drug Abuse.

The administrative process of licensing psilocybin “wellness centers” began in January in Colorado.

Although Dezaval said he doesn’t plan on applying, he said he operates a carefully controlled system of measuring and dispensing mushrooms he grows in indoor tents. Church members can receive 1.5 to 2 grams once a month and smaller quantities for microdosing or minidosing in between.

“Two grams is a great place to be able to have a good disconnect, a moment of revelry, and one that can help our brains start the healing process. Tripping puts a default setting on ‘I’m OK’ and move to ‘I’m good, I’m strong.’”

There’s no cost, but he accepts donations, though they’re not tax deductible since he does not have nonprofit status and believes Colorado’s approach in legalization is restrictive and causes a financial burden for facilitators.

“We’re not a medical facility; we’re not providing any medical advice,” Dezaval said. “We’re not a dispensary or a liquor store.”

Contact the writer: 719-476-1656.