Early in my career, I was fortunate to train under an exceptional physician mentor who owned several radiation oncology practices. His waiting rooms each featured a community bulletin board where local practitioners could advertise their services. One day, I noticed a flyer for a woman offering sound healing classes, complete with singing bowls and promises of vibrational therapy.

Being a young, white-coat-wearing, scientifically-minded trainee, I couldn't resist making a salty, sarcastic comment about how perhaps this woman's sound bowls might cure someone's cancer. My mentor turned around slowly, looked at me with his characteristic even gaze, and said something that fundamentally changed how I approach patient care:

"If it doesn't hurt, it may just help."

Those eight words dismantled years of rigid thinking about what constitutes "real" medicine and opened my mind to a more nuanced understanding of healing—one that would prove invaluable in my current practice providing ketamine-assisted psychotherapy in Chapel Hill, NC.

Those eight words dismantled my rigid thinking about what constitutes "real" medicine and opened my mind to a more nuanced understanding of healing—one that's proven invaluable in my ketamine therapy practice today.

In healthcare, we've created a false dichotomy between evidence-based medicine and what many dismiss as "woo." But here's the truth my mentor understood: crystals exist in the very same world that clinical trials do. They're not in competition—they're both part of the complex landscape of human healing.

I am aware of exactly zero peer-reviewed studies proving selenite clears chakras. But I'm also very much aware of how holding a piece of selenite can profoundly ground someone who believes it does. The mechanism isn't the crystal itself—it's the complex interplay of belief, ritual, and our capacity for self-regulation. But either way — the healing is real.

In my latest blog post, I explore how we can be simultaneously committed to rigorous science while remaining open to the mystery of human healing—especially relevant in ketamine-assisted psychotherapy, where we're already working at the intersection of cutting-edge neuroscience and ancient practices involving altered consciousness and meaning-making.

Ketamine-assisted psychotherapy isn't traditional therapy, and it shouldn't be scheduled like it either. During ketamine sessions, your brain becomes remarkably open to change—but that same plasticity means whatever state you're in when the effects wear off can get reinforced. This is why mindful scheduling matters: when you honor your sessions with thoughtful planning, you're creating sacred space for transformation to actually take hold, rather than getting immediately swept away by the chaos of daily life