Honoring Yourself, Like We Honor Others

I’ve spent so many hours sitting with people in their deepest grief, their most raw moments of transformation, and their wildest awakenings. And one of the patterns I notice again and again is this: we are so much better at honoring others than we are at honoring ourselves. We bring flowers to gravesites, we gather stories to remember those we’ve lost, we cry with reverence at the beauty and weight of a life that mattered. But when it comes to our own lives—the beauty we’ve created, the strength we’ve shown, the heartbreaks we’ve endured—we often brush it off. It just becomes the story of our lives, “It wasn’t that big of a deal.” But it was a big deal. And you deserve to be honored for it.

You Are Worthy of Reverence, Too

I often invite clients—especially those navigating the in-between spaces of healing, integration, or big life change—to consider what it would look like to honor their own story with the same tenderness they might offer to someone they loved who had passed away.

• What memories would you bring flowers to?

• What pieces of your life would you speak of with reverence?

• What pain would you hold with compassion, instead of judgment?

This kind of reflection opens something gentle and essential: self-compassion. Because the truth is, so much of life slips by without us noticing the sacredness of it—until it’s gone. The ease of youth, the rhythm of good health, the steadiness of a relationship, even the chaos of raising little ones—these moments often feel overwhelming or mundane while we’re in them. But later, we look back with longing.

The Practice of Remembering While We’re Still Here

Psychedelic therapy can bring these realizations to the surface in powerful ways. In medicine sessions, people often see their lives with new eyes. They cry over memories they’d forgotten, reconnect to the depth of love they feel for those around them, or finally recognize the beauty of their younger self, even in the hardest times. But you don’t need a psychedelic session to start honoring yourself. You can begin right now.

Try this:
Close your eyes and remember a moment from your life that felt ordinary at the time, but now feels meaningful. It could be sitting in the sun with someone you love, a song playing in your car on a random afternoon, or the feeling of your child’s hand in yours when they were little. Breathe into it. Let yourself feel the weight of that memory. And then whisper to yourself: That mattered. That was beautiful. I am grateful I lived that.

This is what it means to honor your life as it’s happening—not just after it’s passed.

Gratitude for the Small Things

In my own practice, both personally and with clients, I try to focus on gratitude. Gratitude for the little things is not a denial of pain. It’s a recognition that more then one thing can be true at a time. You can be having a difficult time and be grateful for the journey that got you here. You can be crying and noticing the warmth of tea in your hands. Feeling lonely and observing the way light filters through the leaves. Worrying about what is next and enjoying the sound of someone laughing in the other room. These are usually the things we miss when life gets hard or fast. But they’re often the things we grieve the most when they’re gone. Let’s not wait until loss teaches us to treasure them.

Your Life Deserves Witnessing

So here’s my invitation to you today, from one human to another:

Pause and witness your own life.
Grieve what’s been lost.
Celebrate what’s still here.
And honor yourself for all that you are—your resilience, your tenderness, your becoming.

You deserve to be remembered, even now.
You deserve to be loved, not just by others, but by yourself.
And you deserve to live a life that feels sacred—because it is.