Who I am, today.

Waking up

To be truly living requires change, flux, and evolution. Yet most people go through the motions, unconsciously following a script prescribed by a society that prioritizes conformity over personal growth. We live in a homogenized culture driven by sophisticated, soul-deadening forces that quietly co-opt people out of their own lives. To anyone with their intuition still intact, the effects are obvious—reflected clearly in the destruction of our environment.

I understand the illusion of this normalcy because I was raised inside it. I grew up in a highly successful American cult—one that appeared family-oriented and perfectly aligned with the apex of the American dream, but operated fundamentally devoid of reality. At 19, while still deeply immersed in that world, I took LSD. Within three hours, the scales fell from my eyes. I saw the insidious nature of both the cult I was raised in and the larger materialistic culture surrounding it. That moment sparked a 40-year journey of truth-seeking. It is a major reason why hospice work comes so easily to me: confronting mortality forces a person to find a deeper truth, perhaps for the first time in their lives.

A lifelong search

Since then, my life has been dedicated to understanding the human experience. I have been an organic farmer, a father, a husband, and a student of every mystical and theological philosophy I could find. My belief systems have ebbed and flowed, but my dedication to uncovering what is true has never wavered. I don't claim to hold all the answers, but I am guided in every moment by my heart.

Why I work outside the therapy model

In realizing what psychedelics have done for me, my life's work is bringing that healing to others. I want to be clear: I am not a therapist, and I purposely choose to work outside the traditional therapy model. Too often, the clinical system is a cycle of sick people trying to heal other sick people, trapped within rigid intellectual constructs—an industry where the American Psychiatric Association itself issued a public apology just a few years ago for decades of systemic harm and gaslighting toward marginalized communities. Instead of liberating individuals, the traditional model frequently reinforces the very ideas that keep them stuck—acting just like crabs in a bucket, never allowing other crabs to escape. Our office visit will be in as close to a setting as I can arrange to fit you, not something out of a therapist's office decor book.

What this means for you

What this means for you is that you have a guide who understands this medicine on an intimate, soul-deep level. I didn't just begin this path when it was easy or popular, and I bring decades of personal engagement with these substances. My intention is to help you uncover the aspects of yourself that are holding you back from a larger understanding of your place in the cosmos.

Inside the journey

Psychedelic journeys are complex. In a single session, you may experience terror, absolute bliss, profound sadness, and boundless gratitude. I use whatever modality the moment demands—dialogue, silence, physical movement, or music—to assist you on your path. The only thing I guarantee is a new understanding of yourself and the world around you.

From birth to adolescence, our brains undergo a "pruning" process to filter out the overwhelming stimuli of simply being alive. Psychedelics temporarily—and sometimes, with effort, permanently—mitigate that pruning, allowing the brain to rewire itself and escape old, worn-out neural pathways. For a similar reason, therapies utilizing memory reconsolidation are also beneficial, as both help create new ways of seeing our inner and outer constructs. This is why these medicines are so effective for addressing trauma.

However, having your brain suddenly fully aware can be a profound shock to the system. That is where I come in. I provide a steady hand in unfamiliar territory, offering the reassurance that whatever you experience, I have witnessed thousands of times previously.

How I show up for you

I designed this practice because the unfolding of who you are after the journey deserves a dedicated space to touch down. Integration takes time, and it helps to look at what comes out in the wash with someone who was there while you were doing the laundry. Because I do not compartmentalize my life, I am truly present with you—during your journey and long after. I take a vested interest in your outcome because this work is what I was born for. If you choose to trust me in this adventure, I know it will be life-changing for both of us.