Meet the author of 'Psychedelic Sundays'

And learn what this Substack is all about

It all began superficially: A costume for a friend’s party, a chance to play dress-up. I laced my corset, donned a tweed cape, and placed a crown of ferns upon my head. 

They were fake ferns, I’ll admit, but what does that matter? We witches of the digital age blend the sacred and the synthetic without a second thought. Anyway, I threw it all together—half whim, half intuition—and suddenly, I was more than myself. That day, under that itchy, witchy crown, something stirred in me. 

So, here we are. Me in my crown, and you, reading this Substack. Maybe you arrived from my introductory post, where I promised interviews about the psychedelic renaissance and personal reflections on how it will affect everyday people like you, me, and our children. 

Weaving together the magic threads

I will conjure those things, in time. But something else is weaving its way into this space, something I hadn’t planned for when I started my Substack. Call it magic. Call it the voice of my inner witch. It’s shifting my focus, or maybe just revealing what was already there.

Let me take you back to that party.

Spurred on by my friend’s invitation to explore my most authentic self and at the same time, to “make it fun,” for others, I set up a popup spell table beneath an arbour of trees on her rural property. I hung a sign that read: “Basic Witch Spell Shop.” 

On the table, I spread a fringed cloth. And I laid out an assortment of tools: essential oils, crystals, a plant bough, a wand borrowed from my son’s Harry Potter costume, and a battery operated YES button that shouted persistently positive affirmations when pressed. 

These weren’t props for a well-rehearsed performance. They were random objects pulled from the drawers and baskets of my home. I didn’t have a plan for this project, but somehow, I believed that sense would emerge. After all, that’s what witches do. They trust in what they don’t yet fully understand.

Who am I, really?

At first, I felt silly—an occult impostor. But as people began to arrive in my spell shop, something shifted. 

People sat down in front of me, drawn by curiosity. Or something else. A desire for healing? A need for help? As instructed, they chose from among the oils I offered, rolling the scents onto their wrists. They held crystals in their palms and gazed down at them as though they were holding pieces of the Earth herself. 

They sensed something.

And then they began to speak. They told me what they longed for and what they most feared. One guy, burly and bearded, confessed he longed to connect with his adult children. His voice shook a litte around the edges when he spoke. 

And in that moment, I felt some magic rise between us—not from me, and not from him, but in the place where our true selves met. As I did for all of my clients, I spontaneously spoke a personalized spell to help him attract his deepest desire:

“May the earth give me the stability I need. May the water wash my fears away. May the wind inspire my ability to change. May the sun energize my relationships.”

Tuning into the power of simplicity

It was a simple collection of words, but more powerful, I sensed, than anything I could find in a dusty old grimoire. Then, I brushed the skin of his brawny arms with that anonymous plant I’d picked from my friend’s field. I waved my Harry Potter wand with a bit of flair, and I suggested he find ways to spend time in the sun with his children. He promised he would. 

And just like that, I knew: my witchy self wasn’t just a costume. It was an expression of something real.

That’s when I realized that this newsletter, this Substack, wasn’t going to be what I first envisioned. I came into it thinking I’d write about psychedelics—about conscious substance use, cultural healing, recreational revelations, and esoteric explorations of inner worlds. I’d build an audience, I’d establish myself as an armchair expert, I’d gather authority through research, interviews and a consistent publishing schedule.

Witches refuse to conform

But my inner witch advised against my strategic plans. Or maybe “advised” isn’t the right word. In fact, she refused. She won’t be confined or defined by niches or tidy categories. She rebels against the idea of becoming a subject matter specialist. She has no patience for marketing, and her productivity is unpredictable.

My witchy self wants to explore the outer edges of the psychedelic renaissance we’re now experiencing. She wants to know about plant consciousness, yin yoga, slow parenting, unmonetized creativity, ecstatic dance, and the silent messages that move through mycelium. 

Because these “subjects” are all connected. The witch in me knows you can’t separate psychedelics out from all the other magical parts of life. Everything interweaves, creating something whole. Psychedelics, as an idea, are surrounded, protected, and supported by a bunch of other ideas. It’s a community of ideas, if you will. And my witch wants to wander around in there.

The truth is, whether I’m offering a reflective writing prompt, investigating the norms of the psychedelic underground, or sharing stories about substance education at home, it all flows from the same source. Magic. And I mean everyday magic. The quiet, simple, affordable kind that’s available to anyone who’s willing to pay attention.

My kind of witching isn’t about elaborate rituals or rarefied knowledge. It’s about presence, intention, time, and trust. It’s about using the tools we already have at hand—nature, breath, body, mind—and aligning ourselves with the powerful forces at work in our lives. We don’t need anything new, we need to deepen into what we already have, who we already are.

Witches reject consumerism

My view of witching – and my view of psychedelics–runs counter to the consumer-driven world that tells us we need to consult experts, take courses, hire professionals, buy stuff, earn certifications, and win awards to feel real. Witching and psychedelics are about stripping that all away. Clutter, be gone! 

My Substack will remind us to reclaim our inherent power, from the inside out, recognizing that the true magic isn’t contained in some external object or form of validation, but in our ability to connect with what’s already present. The earth beneath our feet, the water that flows through our fingers, the wind that moves our hair, the fire that warms our food. These are the witch's riches. 

So, here’s what to expect from my Substack: I’ll weave together all the threads of my life—my plain and practical spiritual practices, my conscious parenting, my reflections on healing and growth—into one web. And I’ll interview people who can help me deepen into the psychedelic knowledge I already have and the healing experiences that are already available to me. 

Let’s forage together

I hope my essays and interviews help you sense the magic that’s already present in your life, too. Let’s forage together! If you’re curious about how mothering, mindfulness, and mushrooms all merge together into a magic soup, then join me. Sign up, and let’s take this journey one step, one spell, one intentional breath at a time.

If you sign up for my newsletter, watch for a welcome email in your inbox that includes a link to a free download. It’s a 20-page printable zine called Conscious Substance Use: A Conversation Guide for Families. I hope you like it!