If you’re exhausted, heartbroken, and still showing up…
The world’s on fire and your heart still works. That matters.
Dear one,
If you’ve been with me for a while, you know I tend to lean toward the practical. I like grounded, real-world ways of working with this medicine... ways that translate into actual life. No fluff, no bypass, just integration that sticks.
But every so often, I feel called to speak from the deeper places.
Because this work (especially with psilocybin) isn’t only about healing or personal growth. It’s also about sacred remembering.
Psilocybin has a way of dissolving the illusion of separation. It drops us into the quiet knowing that we are deeply, inescapably connected... to one another, to the Earth, to everything that breathes and breaks and lives.
In a recent ceremony, that reminder came again... not as something new, but as a deeper layer of something I’ve carried for a long time.
It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was quiet... ancestral.
Like something that had always been waiting just beneath the surface.
The medicine (or maybe my higher self through the medicine) reminded me that in times like these, we cannot afford to forget the sacred.
Because right now, the world feels soaked in fear and chaos.
War has erupted. People are dying. We are watching destruction unfold on screens our hearts were never meant to process.
Here at home, we are protesting, organizing, standing up for justice while watching egomaniacs with too much power dismantle what’s good and true.
Our minds were never built to hold this much grief.
And yet... we’re here.
Trying to keep our hearts open.
Trying to live with integrity.
Trying to remember how to feel, and how to act, and how to be... without being swallowed by it all.
And so we come back... to the thread.
To the sacred.
To the place within us that knows.
We are not here to transcend the human experience.
We are here to let the divine move through it.
There is no neat separation between sacred and mundane, spirit and skin.
We are all of it... the trembling and the truth, the shadow and the spark, the ache and the field of consciousness that holds it all.
And when we live from that truth... when we hold resonance with others who are also remembering... something shifts.
We stop trying to carry the whole thing alone.
We stop trying to solve impossible pain from inside the limits of the mind.
We begin to be resourced by something deeper... older... unshakable.
The field.
The mystery.
The everything.
It doesn’t need our belief to be true.
It just is.
And when we meet others from that place...
When we let ourselves be seen in the raw, sacred humanness of this moment...
We begin to call in the ones who carry the remembering with us.
The ones who activate something in our DNA.
The ones who carry medicine too.
The ones who don’t just walk beside us... they resonate with us.
This is how we move through the storm... not by rising above it, but by planting our feet in what is real and remembering we’re not alone.
We become tuning forks for a different kind of power.
We hold the note.
We stay soft without breaking.
We stay awake without shutting down.
And above all, we stay in community.
Because we were never meant to do this alone.
We are meant to remember... together.
To cry together.
To speak truth together.
To hold the sacred flame together (even as the world quakes around us).
So I’ll leave you with this:
What are you remembering right now?
What quiet truth is rising in you... even in the midst of so much noise?
You can reply to this or leave a comment. I’m listening.
With love and deep resonance,
Alice