Psychedelic therapy begins in Colorado, causing tension between conservatives and veterans

COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo. (AP) — As Colorado becomes the second state to legalize psychedelic therapy this week, a clash is playing out in Colorado Springs, where conservative leaders are restricting the treatment over objections from some of the city's 90,000 veterans, who've become flagbearers for psychedelic therapy to treat post-traumatic stress disorder.

Colorado residents voted to legalize the therapeutic use of psilocybin, the chemical compound found in psychedelic mushrooms, in a 2022 ballot measure, launching two years of rulemaking before it could be used to treat conditions such as depression and PTSD.

This week, companies and people will be able to apply for licenses to administer the mind-altering drug, though treatment will likely not be available for some months as applications are processed.

Colorado joined Oregon in legalizing psilocybin therapy, though the drug remains illegal in most other states and federally. Over the last year, a growing number of Oregon cities have voted to ban psilocybin. While Colorado metros cannot ban the treatment under state law, several conservative cities have worked to preemptively restrict what are known as “healing centers.”

At a City Council meeting in Colorado Springs this month, members were set to vote on extending the state prohibition on healing centers from 1,000 feet (305 meters) to 1 mile (1.6 kilometers) from certain locations, such as schools. From the lectern, veterans implored them not to.

“We have an opportunity to support veterans, and it’s a really easy one to say ‘Yes’ to,” said Lane Belone, a special forces veteran who said he's benefited from his own psychedelic experiences. Belone argued that the restrictions effectively limit the number of centers and would mean longer waiting lists for the treatment.

Veterans have pulled in some conservative support for psychedelic therapy — managing to set it apart from other politically charged drug policies such as legalizing marijuana.

That distinction was made clear by Councilmember David Leinweber, who said at the council meeting both that marijuana is “literally killing our kids” and that he supported greater access to psilocybin therapy.

Psilocybin is far more restricted in Colorado than marijuana, which the state legalized in 2014. Psilocybin is decriminalized but there won’t be recreational dispensaries for the substance, which will be largely confined to licensed businesses and therapy sessions with licensed facilitators.

Patients will have to go through a risk assessment, preliminary meetings, then follow-up sessions and remain with a facilitator while under the drug's influence. The psilocybin will also be tested, and the companies that grow them regulated by a state agency.

Still, allowing broader access to the treatment hasn't been easy for most of the city councilmembers, including three who are veterans. Colorado Springs is home to several military installations, including the U.S. Air Force Academy, and local leaders have touted it as an ideal community for retired service members.

“I will never sit up here and criticize a veteran for wanting to find a medical treatment to fix or to help with the issues that they carry,” said Council President Randy Helms, a veteran himself.

Still, he continued, “Do I think that it’s helpful to not just veterans but to individuals? Probably so. Do I think it still needs to be tested under strict requirements? Yes.”

The Colorado Springs City Council passed the proposed restrictions.

While research has shown promise for psychedelic drugs such as psilocybin and MDMA, also known as molly, in helping people with conditions such as alcoholism, depression and PTSD, the scientific field remains in its relatively early stages.

“I’m very positive about the potential value, but I’m very concerned that we’ve gotten too far ahead of our skis,” said Jeffrey Lieberman, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, who's been involved in studies of psychedelic drugs' therapeutic efficacy.

The risks, said Lieberman, include customers being misled and paying out of pocket for expensive treatments. He also said there are cases where the drugs can exacerbate some extreme mental health conditions, such as schizophrenia.

In Oregon, where the treatments started in June 2023, costs can reach $2,000 for one session. Of the over 16,000 doses administered in the state, staff have only called 911 or taken a patient to the hospital five times.

Other Colorado Springs city councilmembers raised concerns that the Food and Drug Administration has not approved psilocybin to treat mental health conditions and, in August, rejected the psychedelic MDMA to treat PTSD. A number of clinical trials are still underway for both drugs.

Some researchers, advocacy groups and veterans worry that waiting on slow-moving bureaucracy — namely the FDA — carries its own risks as people continue to struggle with mental illnesses. Advocates argue that psychedelic therapy offers an option to those for whom talk therapy alone and antidepressants have not helped.

“This is a crisis that we are in, and this is a tool that we can add to our toolbox,” said Taylor West, executive director of the Healing Advocacy Fund, which advocates for psychedelic therapy.

Belone said he's carried his military experience long after leaving the special forces. It started when he first heard artillery sirens wailing in a U.S. base in Iraq, his breath catching with fear for a few thudding moments.

That fear kept him on edge when he returned stateside and found himself always keeping his back to the wall, looking for exits to the room he was in, never quite able to give himself fully to the music at a concert.

A psychedelic experience with psilocybin, said Belone, helped him connect the fear that attached to him in the war zone to the ceaseless anxiety at home. It didn’t solve everything overnight, he said, but it allowed him to better identify when that humming fear was getting in the way of a joyful life.

Bedayn is a corps member for the Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues.

Lane Belone poses with Pikes Peak in the background on an overlook in Palmer Park, Thursday, Dec. 19, 2024, in Colorado Springs, Colo. (AP Photo/David Zalubowski)

Lane Belone poses with Pikes Peak in the background on an overlook in Palmer Park, Thursday, Dec. 19, 2024, in Colorado Springs, Colo. (AP Photo/David Zalubowski)

Lane Belone poses with Pikes Peak in the background on an overlook in Palmer Park, Thursday, Dec. 19, 2024, in Colorado Springs, Colo. (AP Photo/David Zalubowski)

Lane Belone poses with Pikes Peak in the background on an overlook in Palmer Park, Thursday, Dec. 19, 2024, in Colorado Springs, Colo. (AP Photo/David Zalubowski)

A group of Buddhist monks and their rescue dog are striding single file down country roads and highways across the South, captivating Americans nationwide and inspiring droves of locals to greet them along their route.

In their flowing saffron and ocher robes, the men are walking for peace. It's a meditative tradition more common in South Asian countries, and it's resonating now in the U.S., seemingly as a welcome respite from the conflict, trauma and politics dividing the nation.

Their journey began Oct. 26, 2025, at a Vietnamese Buddhist temple in Texas, and is scheduled to end in mid-February in Washington, D.C., where they will ask Congress to recognize Buddha’s day of birth and enlightenment as a federal holiday. Beyond promoting peace, their highest priority is connecting with people along the way.

“My hope is, when this walk ends, the people we met will continue practicing mindfulness and find peace,” said the Venerable Bhikkhu Pannakara, the group’s soft-spoken leader who is making the trek barefoot. He teaches about mindfulness, forgiveness and healing at every stop.

Preferring to sleep each night in tents pitched outdoors, the monks have been surprised to see their message transcend ideologies, drawing huge crowds into churchyards, city halls and town squares across six states. Documenting their journey on social media, they — and their dog, Aloka — have racked up millions of followers online. On Saturday, thousands thronged in Columbia, South Carolina, where the monks chanted on the steps of the State House and received a proclamation from the city's mayor, Daniel Rickenmann.

At their stop Thursday in Saluda, South Carolina, Audrie Pearce joined the crowd lining Main Street. She had driven four hours from her village of Little River, and teared up as Pannakara handed her a flower.

“There’s something traumatic and heart-wrenching happening in our country every day,” said Pearce, who describes herself as spiritual, but not religious. “I looked into their eyes and I saw peace. They’re putting their bodies through such physical torture and yet they radiate peace.”

Hailing from Theravada Buddhist monasteries across the globe, the 19 monks began their 2,300 mile (3,700 kilometer) trek at the Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Center in Fort Worth.

Their journey has not been without peril. On Nov. 19, as the monks were walking along U.S. Highway 90 near Dayton, Texas, their escort vehicle was hit by a distracted truck driver, injuring two monks. One of them lost his leg, reducing the group to 18.

This is Pannakara's first trek in the U.S., but he's walked across several South Asian countries, including a 112-day journey across India in 2022 where he first encountered Aloka, an Indian Pariah dog whose name means divine light in Sanskrit.

Then a stray, the dog followed him and other monks from Kolkata in eastern India all the way to the Nepal border. At one point, he fell critically ill and Pannakara scooped him up in his arms and cared for him until he recovered. Now, Aloka inspires him to keep going when he feels like giving up.

“I named him light because I want him to find the light of wisdom,” Pannakara said.

The monk's feet are now heavily bandaged because he's stepped on rocks, nails and glass along the way. His practice of mindfulness keeps him joyful despite the pain from these injuries, he said.

Still, traversing the southeast United States has presented unique challenges, and pounding pavement day after day has been brutal.

“In India, we can do shortcuts through paddy fields and farms, but we can’t do that here because there are a lot of private properties,” Pannakara said. “But what’s made it beautiful is how people have welcomed and hosted us in spite of not knowing who we are and what we believe.”

In Opelika, Alabama, the Rev. Patrick Hitchman-Craig hosted the monks on Christmas night at his United Methodist congregation.

He expected to see a small crowd, but about 1,000 people showed up, creating the feel of a block party. The monks seemed like the Magi, he said, appearing on Christ’s birthday.

“Anyone who is working for peace in the world in a way that is public and sacrificial is standing close to the heart of Jesus, whether or not they share our tradition,” said Hitchman-Craig. “I was blown away by the number of people and the diversity of who showed up.”

After their night on the church lawn, the monks arrived the next afternoon at the Collins Farm in Cusseta, Alabama. Judy Collins Allen, whose father and brother run the farm, said about 200 people came to meet the monks — the biggest gathering she’s ever witnessed there.

“There was a calm, warmth and sense of community among people who had not met each other before and that was so special,” she said.

Long Si Dong, a spokesperson for the Fort Worth temple, said the monks, when they arrive in Washington, plan to seek recognition of Vesak, the day which marks the birth and enlightenment of the Buddha, as a national holiday.

“Doing so would acknowledge Vesak as a day of reflection, compassion and unity for all people regardless of faith,” he said.

But Pannakara emphasized that their main goal is to help people achieve peace in their lives. The trek is also a separate endeavor from a $200 million campaign to build towering monuments on the temple’s 14-acre property to house the Buddha’s teachings engraved in stone, according to Dong.

The monks practice and teach Vipassana meditation, an ancient Indian technique taught by the Buddha himself as core for attaining enlightenment. It focuses on the mind-body connection — observing breath and physical sensations to understand reality, impermanence and suffering. Some of the monks, including Pannakara, walk barefoot to feel the ground directly and be present in the moment.

Pannakara has told the gathered crowds that they don't aim to convert people to Buddhism.

Brooke Schedneck, professor of religion at Rhodes College in Memphis, Tennessee, said the tradition of a peace walk in Theravada Buddhism began in the 1990s when the Venerable Maha Ghosananda, a Cambodian monk, led marches across war-torn areas riddled with landmines to foster national healing after civil war and genocide in his country.

“These walks really inspire people and inspire faith,” Schedneck said. “The core intention is to have others watch and be inspired, not so much through words, but through how they are willing to make this sacrifice by walking and being visible.”

On Thursday, Becki Gable drove nearly 400 miles (about 640 kilometers) from Cullman, Alabama, to catch up with them in Saluda. Raised Methodist, Gable said she wanted some release from the pain of losing her daughter and parents.

“I just felt in my heart that this would help me have peace,” she said. “Maybe I could move a little bit forward in my life.”

Gable says she has already taken one of Pannakara’s teachings to heart. She’s promised herself that each morning, as soon as she awakes, she’d take a piece of paper and write five words on it, just as the monk prescribed.

“Today is my peaceful day.”

Freelance photojournalist Allison Joyce contributed to this report.

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," get lunch Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Aloka rests with Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

A sign is seen greeting the Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Supporters pray with Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Supporters watch Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

A Buddhist monk ties a prayer bracelet around the wrist of Josey Lee, 2-months-old, during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara, a spiritual leader, speaks to supporters during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks participate in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks participate in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara leads other buddhist monks in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Audrie Pearce greets Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara, a spiritual leader, speaks to supporters during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," arrive in Saluda, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," are seen with their dog, Aloka, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)