The Path is the Practice by Jayne Gumpel

Now you see,

you’re not just building a healing practice.

You’re playing a rather elegant trick on the universe—

because what you call healing

is really remembering

that nothing was ever separate to begin with.

Ketamine, yes—

it’s quite the curious little molecule.

Not here to fix you,

but to show you

that you were never a machine in need of repair,

but a mystery in need of being lived.

You say you’re a clinician,

a guide,

a therapist.

But in truth,

you’re a fellow traveler

with a clipboard.

And the people who come to you—

ah, bless them—

they think they are broken.

They think they are lost.

But you,

if you are wise,

will not rush to reassure them.

Instead, you will smile,

as the Zen master does,

and ask:

“Who is the one who is broken?”

You see,

when someone enters a ketamine journey,

they are not escaping.

They are disrobing.

Stepping out of the tight little suit

called “me”

and melting into the ocean

they’ve always been part of.

And your job—

if we can even call it a job—

is not to direct the tide,

but to hold the shoreline.

To be a lighthouse

as they drift out

and return

with seaweed in their hair

and stars in their eyes.

Yes, set the structure.

Yes, follow the ethics.

But also—

don’t take it all so seriously.

For the point of this work

is not to become enlightened.

It’s to realize

you already are—

and so is everyone else.

So go ahead.

Build your practice.

Make your spreadsheets.

Write your protocols.

But never forget—

you are not here to save anyone.

You are here to remind them

they were never truly lost.