When Music Becomes the Bridge: Mystical Experience, Attachment, and Neurodivergent Psychedelic Healing

In many psychedelic journeys that lead to lasting change, there is a moment when something opens. Time loosens. Meaning sharpens. The experience feels both deeply personal and strangely universal, as if touching something real and enduring beneath ordinary thought or experience. Researchers often describe this shift as a mystical experience—a state of consciousness marked by awe, unity, and a sense of encountering something fundamentally true. These moments are not just memorable. They reliably predict whether a psychedelic experience leads to enduring psychological change (Griffiths et al., 2008).

This insight has been shaping psychedelic research for decades. Early studies, including the 1962 Good Friday Experiment, demonstrated that psilocybin reliably induced profound mystical states when administered in supportive settings, such as a chapel accompanied by sacred music (Pahnke, 1963). Philosopher Walter Stace later described a set of core features that tend to appear across mystical experiences, regardless of culture or belief system (Stace, 1961). These include a sense of unity, where boundaries between self and world dissolve into a felt experience of oneness or pure awareness; a transcendence of time and space, in which ordinary clock time and physical location lose their relevance; and a strong sense of reality, where the experience feels profoundly true and authoritative, often described as more real than everyday consciousness. Mystical experiences are also marked by an intensely positive emotional tone, usually felt as peace, joy, or blessedness, alongside a sense of the sacred or holy, even in participants who do not identify as religious. At the same time, these states frequently involve paradox, such as experiencing emptiness that feels full or dissolution that feels meaningful, and ineffability, a persistent sense that the experience exceeds what language can adequately convey. 

Modern clinical trials have confirmed that participants who enter states with these qualities, commonly assessed using the Mystical Experience Questionnaire (MEQ), show sustained reductions in depression and anxiety along with lasting increases in openness to experience—an enduring shift linked to greater emotional flexibility, curiosity, and tolerance for uncertainty (Griffiths et al., 2008; Jerotić, Vuust, & Kringelbach, 2023). For many neurodivergent individuals, including those with PDA profiles, this shift can be especially meaningful. What is often labeled as “rigidity” in beliefs, routines, or worldviews frequently reflects an adaptive strategy for preserving safety, predictability, and autonomy in a world experienced as overwhelming or demand-heavy. Increased openness does not require the surrender of structure or self-direction. Instead, it can support greater distress tolerance around uncertainty, allowing change to be met with more choice and less threat, with benefits that may persist for months or even years after the session.

Why Mystical Experience Depends on Safety and Attachment

If mystical experience predicts lasting change, the next question is how such states become accessible in the first place. Across psychedelic research, a consistent theme emerges: mystical experience does not arise from intensity alone (Griffiths et al., 2006; Griffiths et al., 2016). Strong perceptual, emotional, or ego-altering effects can heighten awareness and emotional intensity, yet surrender depends on safety (Johnson, Richards, & Griffiths, 2008; Hartogsohn, 2017). Participants must feel sufficiently held to relinquish control, soften defenses, and allow experience to unfold without constant monitoring or self-protection (Carhart-Harris et al., 2018; Stauffer et al., 2020).

Attachment research helps clarify this process. Secure attachment is associated with the ability to tolerate vulnerability, trust internal experience, and remain open in moments of uncertainty (Bowlby, 1988; Mikulincer & Shaver, 2007). These capacities closely mirror the psychological conditions required for a mystical experience. In psychedelic contexts, surrender can be understood as an active form of trust—trust in the medicine, the setting, and the relational container supporting the experience (Watts et al., 2017; Stauffer et al., 2020).

Clinical research helps clarify this dynamic. In a 2020  psilocybin-assisted group therapy pilot trial with cancer survivors, participants with avoidant attachment styles were less likely to report mystical experiences and more likely to encounter challenging emotional material without resolution. Reductions in attachment anxiety, by contrast, predicted improved therapeutic outcomes (Stauffer et al., 2020). These findings suggest that defensiveness against closeness or reliance may constrain the capacity to enter states characterized by unity, openness, and awe.

Psilocybin sessions often enhance feelings of acceptance, safety, and emotional closeness within the therapeutic container (Watts et al., 2017). As defensive strategies soften, participants report increased emotional openness, reduced distress, and stronger therapeutic alliance (Stauffer et al., 2020). From this perspective, mystical experience emerges not only from pharmacology but also from a relational field in which trust enables surrender.

Where Neurodivergence Complicates Attachment Pathways

For many neurodivergent participants, this relational threshold is more complex. Histories of relational trauma through chronic misattunement and social exclusion, as well as repeated sensory overwhelm that required constant self-protection and often led to shutdown, can shape attachment patterns well into adulthood (Robertson & Simmons, 2013; Hull et al., 2017). When sensory environments are frequently unpredictable, intrusive, or painful, reliance on others may come to feel unsafe, leading the nervous system to associate closeness with loss of control rather than support (McKenzie & Dallos, 2017). In such cases, direct interpersonal engagement—even when warm and well-intentioned—may be perceived by the nervous system as demanding or unsafe. This dynamic may be particularly salient for individuals with PDA profiles, where demand avoidance functions less as resistance and more as a protective strategy to maintain autonomy and nervous system stability in the face of perceived threat.

Heightened emotional reactivity and fear of rejection, often associated with Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD), are common among ADHDers and other neurodivergent profiles (Dodson, 2025; Ginapp et al., 2023). In psychedelic states, where emotional salience is amplified, subtle cues of perceived judgment—whether from a facilitator’s tone, timing, or repeated check-in interruptions—can quickly activate protective responses. Masking, vigilance, or withdrawal may then emerge as familiar survival strategies. In these moments, music can serve as a low-demand anchor, providing regulation and a sense of companionship without the social demands or interpretive pressure that interpersonal interaction can carry. For facilitators, this may mean agreeing in advance on fewer verbal check-ins, using clear and predictable consent signals, and allowing music to hold the space unless explicit support is requested.

Sensory processing differences add another layer to the experience of attachment and trust in the moment (Siegel, 2012). Some neurodivergent participants are sensory-seeking and find immersive auditory environments deeply regulating, while others are highly sensitive to unpredictable stimuli and require careful modulation of sound and contact (Robertson & Simmons, 2013). What unites these experiences is that safety often emerges more reliably through nonverbal channels than through direct relational exchange. Rhythm, tone, and resonance can feel safer than eye contact, dialogue, or emotional probing (Schore, 2012).

In this context, surrender may not arise through interpersonal reassurance alone. It may require an alternate attachment pathway—one that allows closeness without social demand.

Why Music Becomes the Attachment Bridge

From the earliest clinical explorations of psychedelic therapy, music has been recognized as a central organizing force. In the 1950s and 60s, music therapist Helen Bonny and psychiatrist Walter Pahnke observed that carefully selected music could evoke surrender, emotional release, and profound transpersonal states during LSD-assisted sessions (Bonny & Pahnke, 1972). Music was understood as an active presence in the therapeutic process rather than a neutral background.

Contemporary research reinforces this view. Kaelen and colleagues found that the degree to which music resonated with a participant’s inner experience predicted therapeutic outcome more strongly than drug intensity alone (Kaelen et al., 2015). Participants who described the music as “carrying,” “holding,” or “listening to them” were more likely to report mystical and insightful experiences (Kaelen et al., 2018). When music felt intrusive or mismatched, participants were more likely to withdraw or disengage.

Music functions as an auditory attachment anchor. Its continuity, predictability, and responsiveness mirror the core features of secure attachment. Unlike human interaction, music does not demand reciprocity, interpretation, performance, or eye contact. Music simply offers presence without evaluation. For neurodivergent listeners who have learned that human attunement can be inconsistent or overwhelming, music may provide a more reliable source of co-regulation.

In this sense, music does not merely support mystical experience. It creates the relational conditions under which surrender becomes possible. More accurately, it co-creates these conditions alongside the relationship with the facilitator. 

Implications for Facilitation and Preparation

These dynamics have practical implications for psychedelic facilitation, especially with neurodivergent clients. Preparation can focus on establishing safety not only cognitively, but sensorily and relationally. This may include previewing the sound environment, rehearsing volume changes, co-creating signals for pausing or skipping tracks, and clarifying preferences around verbal check-ins.

For some Autistic clients, a more hands-off facilitation style may support deeper engagement. Immersion in headphones and eyeshades with minimal interruption can allow the music to serve as the primary relational presence. These clients may form profound connections with the expressive presence embedded in the music itself, or with the emotional qualities and perceived intentions conveyed by the musicians who created it. In such cases, frequent verbal check-ins may unintentionally disrupt a carefully held internal process.

Other Autistic clients may prefer consistent verbal reassurance or physical proximity. Preferences vary widely, making this an area best explored collaboratively during preparation. Framing these choices explicitly as matters of consent and accommodation supports agency and trust. When predictability and choice are established, Autistic nervous systems are more likely to respond to uncertainty with curiosity or tolerance rather than with bracing or withdrawal.

Neurodivergent Meaning-Making and Integration

Once safety and surrender are established, mystical experience may take forms that diverge from conventional spiritual language. Neurodivergent participants often describe meaning through sensory imagery (such as vivid textures, colors, sounds, or spatial impressions), movement (rocking, swaying, or subtle bodily gestures), pattern recognition (perceiving repeating structures, rhythms, or relationships that feel deeply significant), or sustained focus (extended absorption in a sound, image, or idea that carries a sense of unity or truth), rather than through narrative insight or verbal symbolism (Robertson & Simmons, 2013; Schore, 2012). These expressions are no less profound, though they may be overlooked if facilitators expect meaning to be articulated primarily through language or conventional spiritual metaphors (Hull et al., 2017). For facilitators, this may involve noticing changes in posture, breath, or rhythm; prolonged stillness or focused attention; or repeated returns to a particular sound, image, or motion as signs of deep engagement rather than disengagement.

For Autistic individuals in particular, special interests frequently serve as sources of meaning, identity, and regulation. During psychedelic experiences, these interests may become portals to awe, unity, or timelessness—qualities central to mystical experience itself. Validating such expressions aligns with research describing special interests as deeply meaningful and stabilizing aspects of autistic experience (Grove et al., 2018).

Music offers a shared focus for both the client and facilitator, allowing these forms of experience to be engaged directly without requiring explanation or interpretation. Its structure, tone, and movement communicate safety and wonder directly, supporting synesthetic imagery and embodied insight. When facilitators honor these pathways, mystical experience becomes less about fitting a predefined template and more about allowing meaning to arise in forms that feel authentic and sustaining.

Music Co-creates the Conditions for Surrender

Facilitators are entrusted with creating a space where profound, lasting change can unfold. For neurodivergent participants, this process often begins with safety—both relational and sensory. Music provides an invaluable tool in this work, acting as a bridge to trust and surrender. It offers a form of attunement that transcends verbal communication and anchors clients when direct relational engagement may feel overwhelming or uncertain.

Mystical experiences—those transformative moments of awe, unity, and transcendence—are not universally accessible. They arise when the right conditions are met: a sense of safety, an open nervous system, and a capacity to surrender to something greater. For many neurodivergent individuals, these conditions are best met through carefully curated sound environments that honor their sensory needs, emotional processing, and unique ways of engaging with the world.

In practice, this means facilitators must approach music with both intention and flexibility. A single track can be a profound portal for one client and a source of distress for another. Facilitators should be prepared to co-create a sound experience that is deeply personalized—one that listens to the client as much as it speaks to them. Whether through headphone immersion, minimal verbal intervention, or the validation of nonverbal meaning-making, the music should hold space for surrender, transformation, and integration.

Ultimately, music is more than a tool for guidance. It is a co-therapist—an ever-present witness to the journey, offering its own brand of relational presence. When chosen and offered with care, it can unlock pathways to healing that are uniquely attuned to the neurodivergent experience, helping clients transcend the boundaries of self and step into new possibilities of connection, growth, and re-enchantment.

References 

Bonny, H. L., & Pahnke, W. N. (1972). The use of music in psychedelic (LSD) psychotherapy. Journal of Music Therapy, 9(2), 64–87. https://doi.org/10.1093/jmt/9.2.64

Bowlby, J. (1988). A secure base: Parent-child attachment and healthy human development. Basic Books. https://www.increaseproject.eu/images/DOWNLOADS/IO2/HU/CURR_M4-A13_Bowlby_(EN-only)_20170920_HU_final.pdf

Carhart-Harris, R. L., Roseman, L., Bolstridge, M., Demetriou, L., Pannekoek, J. N., Wall, M. B., Tanner, M., Kaelen, M., McGonigle, J., Murphy, K., & Nutt, D. J. (2018). Psilocybin for treatment-resistant depression: fMRI-measured brain mechanisms. Scientific Reports, 7, Article 13187. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-017-13282-7

Dodson, W. (2025). New insights into rejection sensitive dysphoria. ADDitude Magazine. Retrieved from https://www.additudemag.com/rejection-sensitive-dysphoria-adhd-emotional-dysregulation/

Ginapp, C. M., Greenberg, N. R., MacDonald-Gagnon, G., Angarita, G. A., Bold, K. W., & Potenza, M. N. (2023). “Dysregulated not deficit”: A qualitative study on symptomatology of ADHD in young adults. PLOS ONE, 18(10). https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0292721

Griffiths, R. R., Richards, W. A., McCann, U., & Jesse, R. (2006). Psilocybin can occasion mystical-type experiences having substantial and sustained personal meaning and spiritual significance. Psychopharmacology, 187(3), 268–283. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00213-006-0457-5

Griffiths, R. R., Richards, W. A., Johnson, M. W., McCann, U., & Jesse, R. (2008). Mystical-type experiences occasioned by psilocybin mediate the attribution of personal meaning and spiritual significance 14 months later. Journal of Psychopharmacology, 22(6). https://doi.org/10.1177/0269881108094300

Griffiths, R. R., Johnson, M. W., Carducci, M. A., Umbricht, A., Richards, W. A., Richards, B. D., Cosimano, M. P., & Klinedinst, M. A. (2016). Psilocybin produces substantial and sustained decreases in depression and anxiety in patients with life-threatening cancer: A randomized double-blind trial. Journal of Psychopharmacology, 30(12). https://doi.org/10.1177/0269881116675513

Grove, R., Hoekstra, R. A., Wierda, M., & Begeer, S. (2018). Special interests and subjective wellbeing in autistic adults. Autism Research, 11(5), 766–775. https://doi.org/10.1002/aur.1931

Hartogsohn, I. (2017). Constructing drug effects: A history of set and setting. Drug Science, Policy and Law, 3, 1–17. https://doi.org/10.1177/2050324516683325

Hull, L., Mandy, W., Lai, M.-C., Baron-Cohen, S., Allison, C., Smith, P., & Petrides, K. V. (2017). Putting on my best normal: Social camouflaging in adults with autism spectrum conditions. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 47, 2519–2534. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10803-017-3166-5

Jerotić, K., Vuust, P., & Kringelbach, M. L. (2023). Psychedelia: The interplay of music and psychedelics. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 1547(1), 12–28. https://doi.org/10.1111/nyas.15082

Johnson, M. W., Richards, W. A., & Griffiths, R. R. (2008). Human hallucinogen research: Guidelines for safety. Journal of Psychopharmacology, 22(6). https://doi.org/10.1177/0269881108093587

Kaelen, M., Giribaldi, B., Raine, J., Evans, L., Timmerman, C., Rodriguez, N., Roseman, L., Feilding, A., Nutt, D., & Carhart-Harris, R. (2018). The hidden therapist: Evidence for a central role of music in psychedelic therapy. Psychopharmacology, 235, 505–519. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00213-017-4820-5

Kaelen, M., Barrett, F. S., Roseman, L., Lorenz, R., Family, N., Bolstridge, M., Curran, H. V., Feilding, A., Nutt, D. J., & Carhart-Harris, R. L. (2015). LSD enhances the emotional response to music. Psychopharmacology, 232(19), 3607–3614.https://doi.org/10.1007/s00213-015-4014-y

McKenzie, R., & Dallos, R. (2017). Autism and attachment difficulties: Overlap of symptoms, implications and innovative solutions. Clinical Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 22(4), 632–648. https://doi.org/10.1177/1359104517707323

Mikulincer, M., & Shaver, P. R. (2007). Attachment in adulthood: Structure, dynamics, and change. Guilford Press. https://www.guilford.com/books/Attachment-in-Adulthood/Mikulincer-Shaver/9781462533817?srsltid=AfmBOoqd3EmbF7pVfwMZ8_zotxLrmK7w8_Jc6ac-mXfoZst9WnZ2XhR-

Pahnke, W. N. (1963). Drugs and mysticism: An analysis of the relationship between psychedelic drugs and the mystical consciousness. Thesis: Harvard University. https://maps.org/images/pdf/books/pahnke/

Robertson, A. E., & Simmons, D. R. (2013). The relationship between sensory sensitivity and autistic traits in the general population. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 43(4), 775–784. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10803-012-1608-7

Schore, A. N. (2012). The science of the art of psychotherapy. Norton. https://www.allanschore.com/books/the-science-of-the-art-of-psychotherapy/

Siegel, D. J. (2012). The developing mind: How relationships and the brain interact to shape who we are (2nd ed.). Guilford Press. https://a.co/d/9zwGRsb

Stace, W. T. (1961). Mysticism and philosophy. Macmillan. https://ia601505.us.archive.org/8/items/in.ernet.dli.2015.187523/2015.187523.Mysticism-And-Philosophy.pdf

Stauffer, C. S., Anderson, B. T., Ortigo, K. M., Woolley, J. D., & Griffiths, R. R. (2020). Psilocybin-assisted group therapy and attachment: Observed reduction in attachment anxiety and influences of attachment insecurity on the psilocybin experience. ACS pharmacology & translational science, 4(2), 526–532. https://doi.org/10.1021/acsptsci.0c00169

Watts, R., Day, C., Krzanowski, J., Nutt, D., & Carhart-Harris, R. (2017). Patients’ accounts of increased “connectedness” and “acceptance” after psilocybin for treatment-resistant depression. Journal of Humanistic Psychology, 57(5), 520–564. https://doi.org/10.1177/0022167817709585