I first encountered BrainTap at a biohacking conference in Los Angeles, before the Rona Regime reordered the world. I was already interested in retraining the brain, but the idea became personal after years of betrayal, digital attacks on my income streams, and the kind of prolonged stress that teaches the body to scan constantly for danger.
In February 2025, at Anarchapulco, I tried another session while hanging out with Jeff Berwick and Stew Peters. I watched Stew fall completely asleep in Jeff’s deluxe massage chair. When I returned home, I bought the headset and a one-year membership because I wanted to work on hypervigilance, PTSD patterns, sleep, and the basic human skill of breathing fully again.
Update, September 2026: I am still using BrainTap—now almost every day. That matters more to me than an enthusiastic first impression. Many wellness devices become expensive furniture. This one became part of my routine.
This Is Not a Brain Chip
I have spent years warning about the slippery slope of transhumanism: implanted “enhancement” devices, the normalization of merging humans with machines, and the dream of turning consciousness into an uploadable, monetizable asset. That is not the future I want.
BrainTap is not an implant. It does not penetrate the skull or surrender ownership of your mind to a neural interface. It is a noninvasive headset used with an app. The system combines pulsed light, layered audio, guided visualization, music, and rhythmic sound patterns intended to support relaxation and focused attention.
So when I say that I use BrainTap, I am not talking about giving Big Tech access to my brain. I am talking about creating a repeatable environment in which I can become quiet enough to reclaim it.
Why This Tool Fits My Work
I am an investigative journalist, a biohacker, and an IFM-certified functional medicine health coach. I have tried a great many tools over the years. Some help for a season. Some generate more hype than change. The tools that stay are the ones I actually reach for when life becomes loud.
Trauma does not always live as one dramatic memory. It can accumulate through micro- and macro-shocks until vigilance feels like personality. The nervous system keeps preparing for the next betrayal, threat, financial hit, or intrusion—even when the room is quiet.
BrainTap gives me a structured pause. I put on the headset, close my eyes, and allow the light-and-sound sequence to narrow the field of attention. The layered narration and imagery give my conscious mind something to follow while my body receives the more fundamental message: this moment is safe enough to exhale.
My experience is personal, not a clinical result. I feel calmer, more positive, and more able to interrupt the loop of scanning for danger. I also recognize that part of this shift came from changing what I consume and refusing to focus exclusively on darkness. A device cannot make that decision for you.
What BrainTap Actually Uses
- Pulsed light: LEDs in the visor create patterned visual stimulation through closed eyelids.
- Layered sound: Headphones deliver music, rhythmic audio, and—in some sessions—binaural-style or spatially separated tones.
- Guided visualization: Narration directs attention toward breathing, imagery, beliefs, habits, sleep, performance, or emotional regulation.
- A large session library: BrainTap currently advertises more than 2,000 guided audio sessions across categories including stress, sleep, focus, performance, and personal development.
HoneyColony has also examined remote neurofeedback, another noninvasive approach to brain training. It is not the same technology as BrainTap, but the comparison helps separate passive feedback systems from guided light-and-sound meditation.
The company describes some recordings as using layered or dual-voice delivery. In practice, different verbal material may appear in each ear, making it difficult for the analytical mind to track every word. I experience that as less mental argument and more immersion. Claims about changing the subconscious should still be understood as a model of guided learning and attention—not proof that a recording can override your will or magically erase trauma.
The PTSD Research Claim: What We Know and What We Don’t
BrainTap announced in 2017 that an Institutional Review Board had approved a pilot project at the University of Kansas Medical Center to study guided meditation with its headset in U.S. veterans with PTSD. That is worth noting—but an IRB approval is permission to conduct human-subject research, not evidence that a treatment worked.
In updating this article, I did not locate a publicly indexed peer-reviewed paper reporting the outcome of that specific pilot. Until a completed study and its data are available, I would not present the announcement as proof that BrainTap treats PTSD.
I also removed a statistic from the earlier version of this article claiming a 27.5% improvement after one session. I could not independently verify the underlying case-series methodology well enough to keep repeating the number. This is precisely why wellness journalism must distinguish between a company’s claims, preliminary observations, personal experience, and published clinical evidence.
Light-and-sound meditation may be a useful relaxation and self-regulation practice. It is not a substitute for trauma-informed medical or mental-health care, and anyone with photosensitive epilepsy, a seizure disorder, light sensitivity, or another neurological concern should speak with a qualified clinician before using flashing-light equipment.
A Little History
According to BrainTap’s own company history, founder Patrick K. Porter began experimenting with visualization and relaxation methods in the 1970s, influenced by techniques his father brought home. In 1986, Porter developed the MC², an early personal light-and-sound device using EPROM technology. The company says the device received a “Best New Gadget” award at the 1989 Consumer Electronics Show. BrainTap, combining an app-based library with a headset, followed decades later.
The history is interesting, but the reason I continue using the system is much simpler: it lowers the barrier to practice. Meditation is easy to praise and surprisingly easy to postpone. Putting on the headset creates a container. It tells my system, “We are doing this now.”
How I Use BrainTap
I choose sessions based on what my nervous system needs that day: deeper sleep, relaxation, focus, confidence, or a break from compulsive thoughts. I use it in a comfortable chair, lower external distractions, and give myself time afterward to notice what changed rather than immediately returning to the information war.
The real test is not whether a session feels exotic. It is whether the practice changes how you meet the next trigger. Do you breathe before reacting? Can you recognize the old script? Can the body return to baseline more quickly? Those are the questions that matter to me.
Want to explore BrainTap? View the current membership and headset options through my verified HoneyColony BrainTap affiliate link.
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Sources and further reading
This article reflects my personal experience and is provided for educational purposes. It is not medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Originally published in an earlier form on Maryam Henein’s Substack; updated and expanded for HoneyColony in September 2026. Affiliate disclosure: I purchased and use BrainTap myself. This article contains my HoneyColony affiliate link; if you purchase through it, HoneyColony may earn a commission at no additional cost to you.