At the base of a tree in Costa Rica, a man named Dave L. found himself emotionally vulnerable as he hugged the trunk and cried. After years of military service, he had learned to suppress his feelings, a pattern ingrained in him by traditional views of masculinity. Now, as he completed his fourth ayahuasca ceremony, the 44-year-old firefighter and former Army Ranger felt ready to release the burdens he had carried for too long.
“I felt trauma trapped in various places in my body, and I could just feel it being released,” Dave shared with a sense of relief. “For days, it felt like I was letting go of things that had been holding me back.”
Dave was part of a group of 46 American veterans and first responders who traveled to Costa Rica to explore a controversial method of healing their psychological and emotional scars from trauma. They spent a week at the Rythmia Life Advancement Center, engaging in ayahuasca ceremonies, counseling, and meditation to confront painful memories alongside those who understood their struggles.
This retreat, organized in partnership with Coming Home—an organization aimed at preventing veteran suicide through psychedelic therapy—also marked the 25th anniversary of 9/11. The urgency for innovative healing methods is apparent; a 2026 report from the Department of Veterans Affairs indicated 6,488 veteran suicides in 2024, averaging 17.7 per day.
Once a secret known only to Amazonian tribes, ayahuasca has become the focus of scientific interest for its potential to alleviate PTSD, depression, and addiction. However, using this plant brew is contentious, as it carries significant physical and psychological risks, including severe nausea and, in rare cases, dangerous psychiatric reactions.
For some participants, the intense journey leads to substantial healing. Clinical data suggests that guided ayahuasca experiences are linked to lasting emotional recovery, with many reporting profound spiritual and emotional growth.
Due to the federal illegality of its main psychoactive ingredient, DMT, countless people are now journeying to specialized retreats abroad, where they can safely engage with the medicine under professional supervision. At places like Rythmia, this practice is intertwined with counseling and medical oversight.
“I wanted to find tools to be more balanced in my life,” Dave remarked about his motivation to try ayahuasca therapy. He confessed that he felt like his life was “falling apart” without those tools.
For seven days, the group created a space to slow down, reconnect with their feelings, and discover a different kind of strength grounded in vulnerability, compassion, and connections. Nestled in the sunny province of Guanacaste, the retreat included a mix of Navy SEALs, Army Rangers, and other elite military personnel—tough men by societal standards.
Mornings began with yoga, followed by individual and group counseling, educational sessions, and meditation, interspersed with time to relax or use the on-site mud spa. As darkness fell, they gathered for ayahuasca ceremonies, sipping the thick, bitter tea that could evoke strong emotional responses.
Nate Brown, a Navy SEAL veteran and the founder of Coming Home, highlighted the transformative opportunity to slow down, a stark contrast to the high-pressure lives these men had led. “To watch them unwind over the week and rejuvenate their body, mind, and spirit is amazing,” he reflected.
By the end of the retreat, Brown observed that the men appeared “10 years younger,” a testament to the restorative effect of their shared experience. “They often feel only rage and anger, disconnected from the gentler emotions they deserve. Witnessing that shift, as the medicine begins to touch their souls, is simply beautiful,” he commented. “Seeing these men hug and cry together is priceless.”
The act of sharing emotions created an environment for bonding. Dave noted that witnessing others break down their defenses encouraged him and the group to confront feelings they might normally avoid. “You’ve got a room full of tough guys, and when one person expresses grief, it becomes contagious,” he said.
Photojournalist John Moore, known for his wartime coverage, captured the week’s events and remarked on the unexpected vulnerability these veterans displayed. “Everyone is human; it was impressive to see these warriors trying to better themselves and their relationships,” he said, remarking on the respect cultivated that allowed participants to relax their guard.
Purging and Healing
During the ceremonies, physical reactions ran the gamut—alongside tears, participants often experienced nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea, interpretations of “purging” that some viewed as a form of emotional release. Dr. Jeff McNairy, Rythmia’s chief medical officer, explained that trauma can leave emotional residues that hinder overall well-being. “When people ask about ayahuasca’s benefits, I always say trauma is its forte,” he stated. Those reactions during the ceremony can sometimes signify a holistic release of built-up emotions.
Despite the potential for drastic emotional healing, there are significant risks. Many users face nausea and anxiety, while the combination of ayahuasca with some medications can have deadly consequences. Prior to the retreat, participants underwent screening for medical histories and were educated on necessary preparations to maximize safety.
Life After the Retreat
For Dave, the real transformations began once he reentered daily life, where the challenges that contributed to his trauma still awaited. The first signs of change came from an unexpected quietness in his mind. “The constant war inside my head has softened,” he said.
He doesn’t see ayahuasca as a one-size-fits-all fix, nor does he believe a single retreat can erase all trauma. Yet, the experience offered a fresh perspective on challenging emotions he had long suppressed. “Now, we confront those feelings head-on, realizing they won’t destroy us but instead make us feel more alive,” he concluded.
