From hockey rinks to plant medicine
I grew up carrying things I didn’t have the language for. Childhood trauma, identity built entirely around hockey — and then, when that career ended, a quiet identity crisis that I didn’t recognize as one until years later.
I tried the conventional routes. Therapy helped. So did entrepreneurship, in its own way. But something was still stuck. The patterns kept repeating. Then I encountered psilocybin.
The changes were immediate and difficult to explain. Not euphoric — more like clarity. Like something that had been knotted for years quietly loosened. I became more present with the people I loved. I started processing things I’d been carrying without knowing it. The shift was real and lasting.
I’m not evangelical about this. Plant medicine isn’t a cure-all, it isn’t for everyone, and context matters enormously. But I’m convinced the research points in one direction: this is a legitimate frontier in mental health care, and the stigma around it is costing lives.
That belief is what drives the work below.