☺️ Where I’ve Been (and Why I Needed the Pause)

Jan 19

Written By Anna Desmarais BSN, RN, NC-BC

I took last week off from posting, but it wasn’t really intentional.

I’ve been busy. Really busy. But not in a bad way.

Much of my time lately has been spent facilitating psilocybin journeys as well as doing preparation and integration sessions, and I’ve noticed something interesting: when I’m immersed in this work, I don’t feel the usual urge to produce or explain. The work itself feels complete and nourishing. I feel tremendously blessed and grateful to be in this space.

Stepping back, I realized it’s worth sharing why this work feels so meaningful — and why it can be so effective — without mystifying it or over-simplifying it.

Why This Work Actually Works (From a Neuroscience Perspective)

From a neuroscientific standpoint, psilocybin does something both subtle and profound.

It temporarily quiets rigid brain networks with deeply entrenched neural pathways, particularly those involved in:

Excessive self-focus (which is linked to depression and anxiety)
Rumination
Hypervigilance
Perceived threat detection

It also increases communication between regions of the brain that don’t usually talk to each other.

In simple terms: the brain can break free from “stuck” patterns of thought and behavior while the nervous system can become more calm.

This increased brain flexibility, known as neuroplasticity, allows people to experience thoughts, emotions, and memories without immediately locking them into old interpretations or defensive responses. Patterns that once felt automatic can be seen, felt, and related to differently.

Importantly, this isn’t about erasing pain or forcing insight. It’s about creating a window where the nervous system can safely explore without being hijacked by survival mode.

That window is temporary, but what happens inside it can be carried forward with continued integration.

The Often Overlooked Nervous System Piece

What I see again and again is that the medicine itself is only part of the equation.

What really allows people to go where they need to go is a safe, regulated container.

When the nervous system feels safe — not analyzed, rushed, or managed — the body can finally do what it’s been trying to do all along: process, release, and reorganize.

This is especially true for people who have spent years being functional, resilient, and “fine” while carrying a lot beneath the surface.

This was certainly the case for me. I remember finally being able to let go of what I realized I had been carrying since childhood. I ugly cried for a large part of the journey, finally releasing what I didn’t need to hold onto anymore. It was unbelievably cathartic and healing. ❤️

The “Spiritual” Part (Without the Woo)

Here’s where people often expect something esoteric and “psychedelic,” but what I witness feels much simpler and more grounded than that.

Many people describe their experience not as visions or revelations, but as a felt sense of coherence. Often, they are able to remember themselves beyond roles, diagnoses, or coping strategies. It can feel like a reconnection to meaning, values, or an inner compass that’s been drowned out by noise, either external or created within their own minds.

I had a recent client say to me post-journey, “All these years of talk therapy…and it was right there in front of me this whole time.” 💡

I think of this less as spirituality, and more as alignment.

When the usual mental defenses soften, people often touch something underneath: a sense of belonging to their own lives again.

And once someone has felt that, even briefly, it tends to change how they move through the world.

There is also a mystical dimension to psilocybin that many people describe as deeply meaningful. People often report a renewed sense of connection beyond the narrow confines of the self. Regardless of belief system, this perspective can bring a sense of purpose and belonging.

Why It’s Been So Fulfilling for Me

As a nurse, I’ve spent years supporting people through systems that are often rushed, fragmented, and focused on symptom management.

This work feels different.

It’s slow and relational.
And it trusts the body’s innate intelligence.

My role isn’t to fix, diagnose, or interpret, but to create safety, presence, and continuity — and to walk with people as they integrate what unfolds.

That’s deeply fulfilling. 🙏