Whaia ngā mahi o Rarohenga – Reflections on Psychedelic Healing, Aotearoa to the World

Written by Jor’el McQueen

Before I say anything, I must first mihi and give thanks to my dear friend and Tohunga Davina Merepeka-Thompson for her shared wisdom and for inviting me into this project, rest in eternal power my friend.

Hosting the first ever National Gathering on Psychedelic Therapy in Aotearoa was a real honour. It stretched me in good ways. Most of the work I do is on the whenua, in ceremony, in wānanga alongside tohunga and whānau - not so much in lecture theatres and university halls. But I stepped into it. And I have to mihi to Anna Forsyth who was the quiet powerhouse behind making sure the national event ran smooth.

Standing there, in a room full of minds and hearts, I realised how important it is to meet face-to-face. The mauri you feel in person is a different frequency than Zoom can carry. It speaks louder than words. There were deep conversations, some hard truths, and a good reflection of where we are as a country - and where we still need to grow. I felt the weight and the wero, but also the hope.

Then came the long haul. Over 30 hours of flying to reach Breaking Convention in the UK. That was the furthest I’ve ever travelled from home. Eighteen-hour flights, grey skies, crowded streets, and jet lag that hit like a wave. But when we reached Exeter, and I stood on the whenua there, I breathed in a slower pace. The wairua of the land felt familiar.

The view of Exeter from the university

Walking into Breaking Convention felt like stepping into my extended whānau. People from all corners of the world, all walks of life…scientists, therapists, psychedelic veterans, artists, medicine carriers, and wanderers. But all with the same wairua: love, service, and transformation.

I spoke about Māori worldviews. Our connection to land, to whakapapa, to ancient trade routes and the rongoā that travelled those paths. I shared pūrākau about atua Māori like Tāne who gifted his neuro pathways to Mother Earth to create our mycelium networks. I spoke about healing as a collective, not as individuals. About taonga pūoro and the power of vibration in ceremony. I didn’t plan to impress, I just tuned in, let spirit guide, let breath lead, and allowed the sounds of the ancestors to speak.

And they did. Over half the room in tears. Not sadness, but resonance. People said they remembered something they didn’t know they’d forgotten. I was humbled to be given a standing ovation, it caught me off guard. I just did what I always do. Be present. Let wairua move. And serve the kaupapa.

After that, the connections came fast. Invitations, gratitude, hugs from strangers who felt like cousins. My highlight wasn’t the stage, it was the people. Indigenous wisdom holders from Ghana, Japan, Brazil + more, herbalists from South America, facilitators from Europe, all sharing the same dream in different dialects.

London afterwards was a whole other world. Fast, noisy, expensive, overstimulating, grand, and a lot to experience. I saw the sights, rode the trains, got caught in the rain, and by day four I was ready to get back to the ngahere. There’s nothing like home.

Why is it important to centre kaupapa Māori and Indigenous healing in this movement? Because this is Māori land. That’s the bottom line. Our people have always worked with the unseen. Always understood that healing isn’t just physical - it’s spiritual, ancestral and collective. We have a legacy of rongoā, of wairua, of knowing. And it’s time we lead.

I believe we’re at the beginning of something big in Aotearoa. I see a future where an Indigenous-led psychedelic therapists’ training programme exists, steeped in tikanga, guided by wānanga, grounded in mātauranga Māori. Where our people don’t have to choose between science and spirit, but can stand strong in both.

My own journey with these taonga began early. I was four when my dreams were interpreted as tohu(signs) by my Kaumatua(elders). I was six when I learned to meditate and breathe deeply. My mother was holding ceremony while I was still a pēpi in the womb. My tīpuna, Kerapa Te Ngāhere, helped heal thousands with rongoā and mahi wairua. This isn’t just work for me, it’s whakapapa. It’s calling.

If I live by anything, it’s this whakataukī:

“Whaia ngā mahi o Rarohenga” – follow the path of those who do good, who walk with love, who serve something greater.

Ngā mihi to everyone who’s walked alongside us so far. The journey is only just beginning. Mauri ora.