Guardian: Someone who supports the main facilitator(s), the container, and the flow of the ceremony in a plant medicine experience.
We get it. Plant medicine is amazing. Having life-changing experiences is amazing — and the idea of being part of that journey for someone else is easy to romanticize.
But guardianship is not something to rush into. Holding space for others is a skill that requires study and practice. And being able to hold space while in an altered state of consciousness is an even deeper layer that takes time — and an established relationship with the medicine — to cultivate.
There are many essential qualities that make someone a good guardian: lots of experience with the medicine, substantial experience in the specific container where they’ll be supporting, attunement, discernment, clear communication, the ability to lovingly hold boundaries, respect for others’ boundaries, humility, clear self-reflection, and a willingness to receive feedback… just to name a few!
Before saying “yes” to any invitation to become a guardian (or initiating a conversation about stepping into this role), there are a few topics that are important to reflect on:
Am I avoiding or trying to skip over my own healing journey by taking this step? Would I be better served by dedicating more ceremonies to my personal process before entering this role?
While it’s true that our own wounds and capacity to navigate suffering can create deep empathy and insight into the wounds of others, it’s equally true that if our wounds remain unexamined or unintegrated, they can interfere with our ability to attune to others. We can end up projecting onto others or unconsciously trying to heal ourselves through them — which makes for very messy (and ultimately unsupportive) guardianship.
Of course, our personal healing journey never ends. Even once you enter into guardianship, you’ll still have moments in ceremony that are about your own process. But if you’ve only worked with the medicine in the “participant” role a handful of times, you’re probably jumping the gun.
Do I feel “firm” in the medicine space — like I can navigate the room and keep my center?
Having sat in ten — or even a hundred — ceremonies doesn’t automatically make you capable in the medicine space. Everyone’s journey unfolds at a different pace, and there’s no shame in being where you are. But if you can’t stand up while you’re in the force of the medicine (which is extremely common in the beginning), you’re probably not ready to take on other responsibilities in that space.
Do I feel called to guardianship because I’m playing out an unconscious (or semi-conscious) need to be seen in a certain way by others?
Of course, we all have a need to be seen on some level. That’s not wrong or bad. But if you’re fantasizing about helping people so that you’ll receive glowing admiration and praise — either from those you help or from the facilitator you’re studying under — that’s likely something to explore and resolve before stepping into this work.
One of our teachers said, “Humility is the best protection.” When we come from ego in this work, we can attract some pretty strange energies and experiences into the space around us. When we stay humble, connected to prayer and devotion, then we are truly able to be of service.
These questions can be hard to answer; we don’t always see ourselves clearly. That’s why it’s important to take your time and to align yourself with real allies — facilitators, friends on the path, mentors — who will offer honest and loving reflections, even when it’s not what you want to hear.
We also believe it’s the responsibility of every facilitator to create their own clear structure for training guardians in their space, to accurately assess readiness in each potential guardian, and to maintain standards that they adhere to.
A half-hour talk before a ceremony is not guardianship training (in our opinion).
Allowing someone to be a guardian solely because they can’t afford the ceremony exchange is, in our view, unethical.
And inviting someone to be a guardian simply because no other qualified people are available is a recipe for disaster — as we’ve unfortunately witnessed more than once.
The spaces people enter through plant medicine are some of the most vulnerable and delicate territory available to us. We don’t say this to instill fear — but it’s far easier to cause harm in these spaces than many people realize. The subtle energetics of every interaction matter.
No guardian or facilitator is perfectly attuned 100% of the time – we’re all human, after all. But when guardians are poorly trained, or are driven by unconscious needs to be seen, they can end up mishandling critical moments or overstepping the boundaries of their role.
Again, we’re not sharing this to create fear — but because we’ve seen a lot of truly inadequate guardianship, as well as a widespread lack of clarity from many different facilitators. That lack of clarity can create a grey area where guardians become grandstanders, acting out delusions of grandeur and “playing shaman.”
This is why we encourage everyone to ask facilitators good questions before they sit, including questions about how guardians are trained and what standards are in place.
Guardianship can be a beautiful path of service — but it’s not one to enter lightly or for the wrong reasons. Take your time. Keep listening inwardly. Stay humble. And always remember: it’s not about you — it’s about serving the medicine, the moment, and the people who come seeking healing.
