Farewell Amanda Feilding, the Psychedelic Countess
Between science, politics, and a revolution of the mind
On May 22, 2025, Amanda Feilding — nicknamed the First Lady of LSD — ended her earthly mission at her home in Beckley Park. More precisely, and with a hint of magic, she departed this realm at 20:25 on 22.05.2025.
I was on a ferry in the port of Naples, en route to Stromboli — where I happen to (ir)responsibly run a small, precious, and peculiar psychedelic bookshop — when I was struck by a vision worthy of Alejandro Jodorowsky’s psychomagic: a massive cargo ship passed by with the name Amanda F.
In that moment, I felt the urge to tell the story of this extraordinary woman who, despite the rigor and seriousness of her scientific work, had long been dismissed by the media and public opinion as “the wacky countess.” Eccentric, marginal, and too unconventional for mainstream science.
In some circles, she was known as Lady Mindbender or The Crackpot Countess, due to her research into trepanation and psychoactive substances. But to many, she was the Queen of Consciousness: a woman deeply devoted to science as a tool to convince policymakers that the cure for the mental health crisis is already within our reach.
Strong, free, revolutionary women are often scrutinized, ridiculed, and attacked. Once they were burned at the stake; today, they are more subtly erased by systems of power — sometimes with the shameful complicity of other women.
Amanda died as she lived: with courage, curiosity, compassion, and grace. Her children — who now carry forward her psychedelic and scientific mission — were by her side, along with her grandchildren, husband, and closest friends. True to the Latin root of her name — amanda, “worthy of being loved” — she was surrounded by friends, admirers, followers, and groupies. Myself included.
I had written to her months before, and she replied with grace and a touch of magic.
Amanda wasn’t afraid of death. After a lifetime dedicated to both scientific and mystical exploration, she was exhilarated by the idea of nearing the ultimate mystery: the end of earthly existence and the beginning of something beyond.
An unusual childhood among art, cows, and mystics
Born into an aristocratic yet bohemian family, Amanda Feilding grew up in Beckley Park, a medieval manor near Oxford that looks like something straight out of a fairy tale. Three moats surround the estate, which for centuries has belonged to the Feilding lineage—an eccentric family with ancestors ranging from Holy Roman emperors to British mystics. Among them were alchemists, visionaries, and even a few heretics.
Amanda’s father was a painter and aristocrat who conversed with animals and enjoyed living in a room without heating. Her mother descended from the Duke of Hamilton and had a deep mystical inclination, once leaving her children for a year to follow an Indian guru across the world.
In that context of noble eccentricity and intellectual freedom, Amanda was homeschooled until the age of sixteen and developed her own original way of thinking. She spent much of her childhood talking to plants, painting, studying nature, and developing a deep fascination with altered states of consciousness. At the age of sixteen, she traveled to Sri Lanka to study mysticism. It was clear even then that she was not destined for a conventional life.
She later studied comparative religion and mysticism at Oxford but had to drop out for lack of formal qualifications. That didn’t stop her. Amanda’s true education came through her independent studies and extraordinary encounters—with scientists, artists, and philosophers who were also exploring the mysteries of the mind.
It was in the 1960s, during the psychedelic and cultural explosion, that Amanda experienced her first LSD trip. That moment marked a turning point in her life. Not because of a sudden revelation or ecstatic vision, but because she perceived how these substances could open doors to a deeper understanding of consciousness, mental health, and human suffering.
While others were taking acid to party, Amanda was already wondering how these states could be used for healing trauma, treating depression, and enhancing creativity.
From LSD to Trepanation
In 1965, at age 22, Amanda took LSD for the first time—legally. She later described the experience as “a return to the mystical sensations of childhood.” But shortly afterward, she suffered a traumatic incident in which she was unknowingly given a dangerously high dose of LSD. The experience left her shaken, and she retreated to Beckley to process what had happened.
There, she deepened her research into altered states of consciousness, influenced by her companion and mentor, Bart Huges, a Dutch scientist who believed that increased blood flow to the brain could enhance awareness. Huges was also the modern-day pioneer of a technique as controversial as it is ancient: trepanation, the act of drilling a small hole into the skull.
Amanda believed that the practice—used since Neolithic times—could help restore the “childlike” state of consciousness lost in adulthood. At 27, armed with a dentist’s drill, a mirror, and sheer will, she trepanned her own skull. She filmed the entire process in her cult underground documentary Heartbeat in the Brain, a psychedelic classic in its own right.
Later that evening, she attended a party wearing a turban to hide the dressing.
According to Amanda, trepanation allowed the brain to pulse more freely with the heartbeat, increasing cerebral blood flow and oxygenation. This, she believed, could support mental clarity and emotional balance. Her then-partner Joe Mellen also underwent the procedure—twice—and documented the experience in his memoir Bore Hole.
Amanda even ran for Parliament twice on the slogan: Trepanation for the National Health Service. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t win, but she certainly made headlines.
The Beckley Foundation: A Living Manifesto
In 1998, after three decades of frustration, Amanda founded the Beckley Foundation, transforming her private estate into a crucible for the psychedelic renaissance. Her vision was clear: to use scientific research as a tool to reform drug policy and reintegrate psychedelics safely into society.
Over the years, Beckley became a sanctuary for Nobel laureates, neuroscientists, artists, politicians, and seekers of all kinds. Amanda described the foundation as “a conceptual artwork,” her way of stepping beyond personal identity to become a movement.
The foundation’s mission was twofold: to generate rigorous scientific data on the effects of psychoactive substances, and to advocate for evidence-based drug policy reform. Amanda knew that public perception could only be changed by hard data—and that meant working with the best.
In collaboration with institutions like Imperial College London and Johns Hopkins University, the Beckley Foundation helped produce landmark studies on psilocybin-assisted therapy for treatment-resistant depression. One of these studies, published in 2016, showed dramatic improvements in mood and emotional regulation in patients who had failed to respond to conventional antidepressants.
Amanda’s ability to unite cutting-edge science with poetic intuition made her a unique force. “I have no letters after my name,” she used to say, “but I know how to ask the right questions.”
She wore pearls and tailored suits, but also talked about altered states of consciousness with mystic fervor. She was a walking paradox—equal parts aristocrat, rebel, and spiritual explorer.
The Psychedelic Renaissance: Science, Spirit, and a $3 Billion Industry
Natural psychedelic substances have been used for thousands of years by Indigenous cultures for healing and spiritual purposes. The term psychedelic—from the Greek psyche (mind or soul) and deloun (to reveal)—was coined in the 1950s by psychiatrist Humphry Osmond.
Since the 1990s, the scientific community has gradually returned to explore their potential. Countries like Germany, Switzerland, and the United States have led the charge, conducting research on psilocybin, mescaline, and DMT (the active compound in ayahuasca).
Despite legal and bureaucratic hurdles, U.S. agencies like the FDA and DEA have begun to loosen restrictions, particularly in light of promising data from clinical trials. Psilocybin and MDMA-assisted therapies are now fast-tracked for potential approval. Even LSD—the most controversial of the psychedelics—is making a slow but steady comeback.
The Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS)—a nonprofit organization dedicated to the research and therapeutic use of psychedelics—has been instrumental in this shift. Founded by Rick Doblin (not Paul Stamets, who is a renowned mycologist), MAPS led the first legal LSD studies in over 40 years, exploring its use in end-of-life anxiety therapy.
Today, the psychedelic industry is valued at over $3 billion, with dozens of clinical trials underway worldwide. Microdosing—taking sub-perceptual amounts of psychedelics like LSD or psilocybin—is another growing trend, explored for its potential to enhance mood, focus, and creativity without full-blown hallucinations.
But Amanda never lost sight of the human dimension. “These substances can heal, but only in the right context,” she insisted. “Set and setting matter as much as the molecule.”
A Living Legacy: Amanda’s Children and the Future of Beckley
Amanda’s vision didn’t die with her. Her two sons have picked up the torch, each following in her footsteps while charting their own paths in the ever-expanding field of psychedelic science and healing.
Rock Basil Hugo, Amanda’s son from her partner Joe Mellen, now directs Beckley Retreats, an organization that offers therapeutic psychedelic retreats in Jamaica and the Netherlands—countries where the use of psilocybin is legally permitted or decriminalized. These retreats combine science-based protocols with the compassionate ethos of Beckley, providing safe, guided journeys for those seeking healing or transformation.
Cosmo Birdie, Amanda’s younger son from her husband James Wemyss, is the CEO of Beckley Psytech, a biotechnology company conducting clinical trials in the United States. Their mission: to develop psychedelic compounds into approved, regulated medicines for conditions like depression, anxiety, and addiction.
Months ago, I applied to participate in one of Beckley Retreats’ programs. The application process was rigorous: an online screening followed by two video interviews with trained facilitators. I was accepted—and this coming winter, I’ll travel to Jamaica to experience my first therapeutic retreat with psilocybin. It’s not cheap, but it’s an investment I’m willing to make to lift the fog of disillusionment and find a renewed connection to myself and the world.
No, it won’t be a budget trip. But it promises something far more precious than a tropical vacation: a journey into the innermost folds of consciousness, guided by the spirit of Amanda Feilding and the legacy she left behind.
Final Thoughts: A Psychedelic Farewell
Amanda Feilding’s life was anything but ordinary. She danced on the borders of science and mysticism, rebellion and research, always propelled by the fierce belief that human consciousness could be expanded, healed, and understood—not feared, pathologized, or suppressed.
She leaves behind more than a foundation, more than a movement. She leaves a crack in the wall of Western rationalism through which the light of new paradigms can shine.
In a world quick to dismiss the unconventional, Amanda was proof that sometimes it takes a “crackpot countess” to break through decades of scientific stagnation and social stigma. She didn’t have PhDs or academic titles, but she had something rarer: vision, courage, and a devotion to truth that burned brighter than public opinion.
And so, as I prepare for my own journey—to Jamaica, to the depths of my mind, to whatever awaits me beyond the veil of fear and habit—I carry Amanda’s legacy like a compass. I believe, as she did, that healing is not only possible, but already within us. That altered states can reveal not chaos, but coherence. That the path to inner peace may sometimes begin with a molecule—and a question.
So here’s to Amanda Feilding, the Psychedelic Contessa. May her consciousness continue to ripple through ours. And may we have the courage to trip wisely, love boldly, and—if necessary—drill a little deeper into the mysteries of who we are.
Happy Trip. Always.