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In recent years, I’ve seen more people explore psychedelics as a means of healing and self-expansion—and these are not people seeking recreational experiences. Many are 40+ and have been in therapy for many years. Often our conversations begin with memories of growing up as Jonesers or Gen Xers, generations heavily affected by the so-called War on Drugs. Like me, they may have attended health classes where “Just Say No” was the repeated message.

Although I now live in Sedona, surrounded by red rocks, desert landscapes, and expansive skies, I spent much of my life in New Jersey, about an hour from the beach. The ocean holds a special place in my heart. Recently, I spent a weekend in beautiful Santa Barbara, where I had the opportunity to reconnect with beach. There was something deeply familiar about standing at the edge of the Pacific, listening to the waves and breathing in the salty air.

I have been highly sensitive for as long as I can remember, although I certainly did not have language for it when I was young. Sounds could be overwhelming. Smells, textures, noise, crowded environments and other sensory experiences often seemed to register more intensely for me than they did for other people. I noticed things—the emotional atmosphere in a room, subtle shifts in people, discomfort, beauty, tension—and often took in more than I knew what to do with.

I have spent more than thirty years sitting with people whose lives have been altered by trauma. Some experiences leave wounds that gradually become integrated into the story of a life. Others divide life into a before and an after. Sexual violence can do that. I have seen how its effects can move far beyond the event itself. A person may struggle with trust, intimacy, sleep, shame, fear, dissociation, relationships, sexuality, and the basic experience of feeling safe

Religious Trauma, Psychedelics, and Healing... For much of my adult life, I would not have described myself as particularly religious. Spiritual, yes. Curious about mystery, ritual, consciousness, and the ways human beings have tried to make meaning of suffering, absolutely. But my relationship with organized religion became complicated fairly early, and one experience in particular created a rupture between me and the Jewish tradition in which I had grown up.

Over my years as a psychologist, I have sat with many people who stay in relationships that are hurting them. What’s struck me is how much insight they often have. They may be able to describe the problems clearly: manipulation, criticism, betrayal, withdrawal, volatility, or repeated promises that never result in change. They may have left several times and promised themselves they would not go back.

We usually think of grief as something that follows a loss. Someone dies, a relationship ends, we leave a home or friendship, or come to terms with a future that is no longer going to happen. Another kind of grief can be harder to recognize: grief for something we never really had. For some people, that is the childhood they but didn't get.

Have you ever found yourself several months—or several years—into a relationship and had the uncomfortable realization that you've been here before? Maybe the person is different, but the feeling is remarkably familiar. You are once again trying to get closer to someone who keeps pulling away.

When people look back on a frightening or traumatic experience, they often judge themselves by what they believe they should have done. Why didn't I leave? Why didn't I fight back? Why didn't I say something? Why did I just stand there? I've heard versions of these questions in my work with trauma survivors, and they can carry tremendous shame.

When I was trained as a psychologist, we didn't talk about Complex PTSD. We certainly talked about trauma. We understood PTSD as something that could happen after war, sexual assault, a serious accident, or another terrifying event. But we had much less language for understanding what happens when trauma isn't one event with a clear before and after. What about growing up for years with a parent who ignored you, humiliated you, or wasn't able to respond to what you needed?

If you've spent any time reading about psychedelics or talking with people who have had altered-state experiences, you've probably heard the term ego death. It's something that seems to capture everyone's attention. People describe losing their sense of self, feeling connected to everything around them, or experiencing a state where the usual boundaries between themselves and the world seem to disappear. There may be a sense of unity and connectedness or a sense of surrender.

Nightmares after trauma can feel like more than bad dreams—they can make sleep itself feel unsafe. Learn why trauma may follow us into our dreams, how grounding and bedtime rituals can create a greater sense of safety, and how approaches such as Imagery Rehearsal Therapy may help recurring nightmares become less intense.

Not every psychedelic journey unfolds through visions or profound insights. Sometimes healing speaks through the body first—through vibration, sensation, and the quiet language of the nervous system. In this reflection, psychologist Dr. Heidi Dalzell explores how somatic experiences can reveal a different path to healing, where understanding often follows embodiment rather than preceding it.

Explore the meaning of Kundalini awakening, its possible connection to psychedelic experiences, meditation, and spiritual transformation, and how psychology can help make sense of profound inner change. Learn about common signs, emotional healing, integration, and why support and grounding are essential throughout the process.

Healing from trauma is about more than reducing anxiety, PTSD symptoms, or emotional pain. As people heal, many begin exploring deeper questions about identity, purpose, spirituality, and meaning. In this article, psychologist Lynn Moser explores how trauma can reshape our understanding of ourselves and the world, and how the healing process may open the door to resilience, self-discovery, and a renewed connection to life.

There is a moment that catches many people off guard in eating disorder recovery. It doesn't happen in the early days, when food still feels overwhelming and meals require enormous courage. It comes later, sometimes years later, when life has become fuller and the eating disorder no longer occupies every waking thought. Someone looks at me, often with genuine confusion, and says, "I thought I'd feel differently by now."

Why is self-compassion so difficult after trauma? Explore how MDMA-assisted psychotherapy may help individuals approach themselves with greater kindness and understanding.

Menopause is more than a hormonal change—it is a profound life transition that can affect the body, mind, relationships, and spirit. This article explores the emotional, physical, and spiritual dimensions of menopause while offering reflection, encouragement, and practical insight to help women navigate this chapter with greater confidence and self-compassion.

Many people are surprised to discover that the themes represented by the chakra system—safety, self-worth, love, communication, intuition, and meaning—often emerge naturally in therapy. Whether viewed as energetic centers or a symbolic framework, chakras can provide a powerful lens for understanding emotional well-being and personal growth. In this article, we explore each chakra through a mental health perspective and offer a simple one-minute practice for self-reflection.

Not all sexual boundary violations involve physical contact. Many adults grew up exposed to inappropriate comments, emotional enmeshment, or adult sexual material that exceeded what was developmentally appropriate. These experiences can affect boundaries, body image, relationships, and self-trust well into adulthood. This article explores their impact and the path toward healing.