Rythmia Life Advancement Center: An Honest Review
Plant medicine is extremely delicate work. Bigger does not guarantee better. Hype does not guarantee healing.
Nestled in the tropical landscape of Guanacaste, Costa Rica, Rythmia Life Advancement Center has earned a glossy reputation as the luxury destination for Western seekers exploring ayahuasca — an extremely powerful Amazonian plant medicine known for its intense psychological and spiritual effects.
Marketed as the safest, most comfortable, and most transformative ayahuasca retreat in the Americas, Rythmia boasts a long list of celebrity endorsements, shiny TripAdvisor reviews, its own documentary, and a pretty impressive Board of Directors.
As someone who has sat with ayahuasca in various settings — including roughing it in the Amazon jungle — I went to Rythmia with optimism. Heck, even a husband in tow. But after participating in ceremonies there (including one that ranks as my worst night ever), I’m left deeply conflicted.
While the center offers some real strengths, and has no doubt helped many on their healing journeys, I found major flaws lurking just beneath its polished, medically supervised surface.
I should note that I was there mid-2021. That’s how long the experience has taken for me to integrate. (In fact, it’s still work in progress, which is why I will not be sharing any details.)
A lot may have changed at Rythmia since then. Hopefully for the better. If you have been there more recently, please do share your insights in the comments. Meanwhile, here’s my honest take on the good, the bad, and the ugly aspects of Rythmia Life Advancement Center ayahuasca retreats.
The Good
1. The Food
Rythmia nails this one. The kitchen, at the time led by Meg Pearson, delivered beautiful, flavorful meals that honored the traditional dieta (a clean, plant-forward pre-ceremony diet).
Buffets included everything from colorful vegan dishes to ethically sourced animal proteins, all local, organic and nourishing. Food is medicine, too — and here, it was treated with reverence.
2. The Setting
While not quite five-star in design, the retreat grounds are pristine, cozy, and thoughtfully embedded in nature. Birds, trees, fresh air, and silence provide the ideal environment for introspection and recovery between ceremonies.
There are plenty of hammocks and hideaways if you need solitude, and community areas if you’re feeling social. The availability of massage and colonic treatments as well as breathwork and yoga classes is a welcome touch of holistic wellness.
3. The Workshops
A well-designed workbook and daily group sessions help you make sense of the chaos and beauty that ayahuasca can bring up. We were provided structured prompts and tools that proved helpful in contextualizing the experience during the week. I will say though, you get very little 1:1 support.
The Bad
1. No Traditional Icaros
If you’ve ever experienced a traditional ceremony led by a true curandero or ayahuasquero, you know how essential the icaros (spirit songs) are. At Rythmia, these have been replaced with Spotify playlists — yes, Spotify.
The ceremonial music there is one-size-fits-all, often beautiful, but spiritually misaligned and energetically disconnected from the participants. Real icaros are very much part of the medicine — tailored to the patient, guided by the spirit of the plant. A mass-produced playlist simply can’t offer that.
Drinking ayahuasca brew and not following with traditional icaros is like shoving turmeric down your throat without any black pepper to activate the curcumin. Or, for my biohackers out there, it’s like taking D3 without K2. If you know, you know.
The Spotify playlist is not just a Rythmia issue. But for $5,000 you expect more.
2. Business Energy Over Healing Energy
Rythmia was born out of an ambitious vision by its founder Gerry Powell, whose memoir Shit the Moon Said is worth a read. But what began as a genuine healing mission seems to have shifted into a growth-at-all-costs model.
While I appreciate a wild business backstory (I am no stranger to those myself), it seems that the center’s energy has over time drifted from the feminine, nurturing presence often associated with the “Grandmother” spirit of ayahuasca, and veered into a more masculine, transactional vibe.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for abundance and building wealth. I wish them all the financial success in the world. Turning profit while making a difference absolutely can — and should — go hand in hand. But this is the world’s second most powerful psychedelic substance we’re talking about. There are consequences beyond waiver forms.
3. Cultural Appropriation
While I do believe the staff and leadership at Rythmia have good intentions, there’s no way around it: appropriating sacred indigenous rituals and repackaging them for a wealthy Western audience is problematic.
Especially when those traditions are stripped of key elements (like the icaros) or when the word “shaman” is thrown around carelessly — a term most real Amazonian curanderos would never use to describe themselves.
I presume some of the members of the indigenous communities (notably from Colombia and Brazil) benefit from Rythmia’s work because on occasion they are invited to facilitate the ceremonies. Which is fair. But hardly enough.
If there is anything I’m missing in this regard, please comment and let me know.
The Ugly
1. Overcrowded Ceremonies
This, in my view — and actual experience — is the biggest red flag. Ceremonies at Rythmia can involve upwards of 70+ participants. Even with multiple assistants, it’s impossible to manage the energetic chaos that arises when this many people open themselves up psychospiritually in one space.
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I personally had a profoundly traumatizing (and as a certified Trauma Informed Coach I don’t take this term lightly) experience one night. Every integration expert I’ve had the great honor of working with since — people like Dr. Will Siu and Alberto Villoldo — agreed: no one should be running ceremonies at this scale. It’s outright irresponsible.
No such thing as a bad trip? Let’s bust the myth once and for all.
Sometimes psychedelic ceremonies get out of hand not because of your childhood wounds or a toxic ex but because there are a dozen people with childhood wounds and toxic exes, all opening up their energy fields in one room at once. Let alone several dozens, as is the case at Rythmia, night after night.
In this podcast episode Shaman Durek explains what happens to you when a plant ceremony is badly supervised. Scary stuff, and essentially what happened in my case. (Let’s just say I needed multiple soul retrieval sessions as part of my integration process.) Ironically, it’s an interview with Brandee, one of Rythmia cofounders.
2. Upselling in Vulnerable Moments
Between ceremonies, while you’re emotionally raw and spiritually open, staff will pitch add-ons like stem cell treatments or discounted future retreat packages. This feels exploitative.
At the very least, it’s a jarring departure from the sacred energy of the medicine, and at worst, it borders on spiritual consumerism and greed.
I know you have bills to pay and investors to answer to, but hold your horses while I still have the medicine rushing through my veins. I am not in a state of mind to make an informed purchase decision the morning after. Total timeshare vibes.
3. Review Manipulation
As a hotel industry insider, I have witnessed how the game is played. There are shady companies (known as “online reputation management firms”) out there offering gatekeeping services. And Rythmia plays the game well.
Many (not all) negative reviews mysteriously disappear or never get posted. I know that because my own review — fair, detailed, and thinking back now quite a generous one — was never published…!
And why is a ceremonial retreat center which doesn’t accept nightly stays listed as lodging on TripAdvisor anyway? Very misleading, especially when they tout being the best-reviewed resort in the area. Apples and oranges. Try Retreat.Guru instead.
4. The “Miracle Rate” Marketing
Rythmia proudly claims that over 98% of participants report having experienced a “miracle” during their stay. But what is a miracle? I’m asking rhetorically, because I did in fact experience a miracle working with ayahuasca, just not at Rythmia.
Based on my chats with fellow retreat participants, no one reported anything of that sort. And I did have a sizable sample size of over 60…
Even if some of them reported a miracle afterwards, since they send out a post retreat questionnaire. (And it does happen. The Medicine has been known to clear tumors, bring back eyesight etc.) All I’m saying is that statistically speaking, a “98% miracle rate”? Highly unlikely.
Not long ago, I received an email from none other than Jack Canfield, the Chicken Soup for the Soul author and a member of Rythmia’s Board of Directors, collecting stories for a book on Rythmia miracles. I replied asking if he’d be interested in hearing my less-than-miraculous story. I never heard back.
Use whatever marketing efforts you see fit, but perhaps some of the people booking the retreats, lured by the promise of a near-guaranteed miracle, shouldn’t be there in the first place. Ayahuasca is NOT everyone’s medicine. Transparency is key.
5. Gaslighting and Spiritual Bypassing
When I tried to raise concerns about my experience, I was repeatedly told, “you got what you needed,” “the medicine knows best”, “feel it to heal it”, or “just drink less tomorrow.” There is truth to these, but that’s missing the point.
To be fair, this kind of spiritual bypassing is not unique to Rythmia — it’s unfortunately widespread in the plant medicine circles— but it’s still unacceptable.
No, not every bad trip is a gift in disguise. Sometimes, it’s just a badly facilitated trip. A poorly run ceremony with too many participants and not enough support.
Final Thoughts on Rythmia
Rythmia is not a scam. It’s not “a cult”. It was founded with the best of intentions and has certainly helped many people. That’s a fact. But it’s also not the Shangri-La of “life advancement” it claims to be.
If you’re looking for a safe, ceremonially respectful ayahuasca experience, I would personally recommend looking elsewhere — perhaps smaller centers with more intimate groups.
Plant medicine is extremely delicate work. Bigger does not guarantee better. Hype does not guarantee healing.
Having medical staff on site may ease liability concerns and reassure skeptical newcomers. It’s great for external emergencies but it doesn’t help much when the crisis is internal — when what’s breaking apart isn’t your body, but your psyche. Not everyone will have access to soul retrieval sessions in the aftermath. And they shouldn’t need any.
With a force as powerful, intelligent and sacred as Grandmother Ayahuasca, what’s needed isn’t scale — it’s presence, humility, and reverence. With each extra person in the room the Medicine loses her soul and the ceremony becomes a performance for the advisory board.
Have you been to Rythmia, Soltara, or another plant medicine retreat center? What was your experience like? I’d love to hear your stories. Comment below.
