Trusting my NO!

Having a spiritual ick

Important lessons don’t always come through cataclysmic breakthroughs; sometimes they come from the opposite: saying no to them instead. The lesson here is in the “no.”

Yesterday, I was supposed to attend a psilocybin ceremony. The night before, I started to feel sick as I was hit with congestion and a head cold. Earlier in the week I told myself it was allergies… the pollen count is high here and I could sleep it off. Underneath the mental gymnastics, though, I knew my body was off-kilter. I called the facilitator.

Met with a melodic, sing-song voice, she explained that the ego often creates resistance as a way to protect us from receiving the medicine; she suggested that what I was experiencing was my ego and subconscious attempting to block the process.

I remember thinking: I am pretty sure my ego is not making me physically sick but ok… I guess the body keeps the score.

I reiterated that I was inquiring because I felt physically unwell and wanted to know whether it was safe to participate (not because I was having spiritual resistance); this was especially important considering it would have been my first time in this type of ceremony.

She then reiterated that the $111 I paid was nonrefundable. Mmm k… again… wasn’t asking or thinking about the money… was just checking to see if this was safe….

I was curious and even excited to try plant medicine, but I also respect that it carries real risks… and more importantly, I respect my own wiring. I come from a family with intense mental health dynamics, and I’m aware that without learning how to regulate my emotions and steady my mind, I could have easily followed a similar path. I’ve done my work, and it’s made me attuned to my own signals.

At the same time, I’m highly open and sensitive; I feel things deeply, and I can dissociate or “leave my body” with relative ease. I don’t take this combination lightly, even if, likely, I would have been fine.

For someone like me, going into a ceremony feeling physically compromised, on a first time, no less, wasn’t a risk I was willing to absorb.

The space holder’s sing-songing didn’t soothe me; quite the opposite, it felt bypassy, something like “K sweetie no worries. Have some soup. Love, light, and rainbows.” It felt like we were speaking past each other. She felt detached, as she kept repeating her song in a drifting cadence: “You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.”

We ended the call with her literally singing to me, telling me the ceremony was centered around me, so I had to come. She had rented a house with a yard, in nature, because she knew I would appreciate it. According to her, the entire gathering had been reshaped around my presence.

So… I had to come?

Whatever else was true about the situation, this was definitely pressure; soft and spiritualized, but pressure nonetheless.

After I hung up the phone, still sitting with that heavy feeling in my chest, I called my friend Daniella.

Daniella also works with medicine, but what stood out was how she actually listened and reflected. I laid everything out: my body feeling off, the practitioner’s “soothing” tone that didn’t match the underlying pressure, the repeated financial reminders (we were told again and again to bring $333 in cash the day of), and the insistence that I had to come.

Then, I asked, “Do I go or not?”

She said: “So you’re asking me if you should push the system override button. I’m flipping it back to you… do you?”

Daniella didn’t assure me I would be fine, and she didn’t repackage my physical hesitation; but she held up a mirror and allowed me to see what I was actually asking her to validate, without “shoulding” me. She made it clear, without ever dictating my path, that this was my call. It was my body, my knowing, and my decision to make.

What I noticed from this contrast is there’s a difference between a teacher who overrides your intuition and one who returns you to it. My spiritual “ick” comes from the former, something I’ve witnessed far too often in this space unfortunately.

Another friend pointed something out: this didn’t feel aligned with a grounded, heart-led presence, one that guides rather than persuades. It raises questions: who is genuinely there to serve, who listens and makes you feel heard, rather than chasing a payment or planting ideas just to get you to say yes?

Hanging up the phone with Daniella, I felt grateful for the expansion this moment brought me. I noticed that this was a moment of healing - and it didn’t come from saying yes to some insane breakthrough, aggressively pushing past my fears, or diving headfirst into a consciousness altering experience. My work here was in choosing “no.”

Shortly after, I texted the practitioner to share how I was feeling:

Me: Hi, I slept 12 hours and still feel sick. Given everything on the disclaimer and the fact that it’s my first time, I want to go into ceremony feeling well and strong. Thanks for understanding.

She tried to call me, then replied:

Practitioner: Ok my love. I understand. As a reminder, the $111 deposit is nonrefundable. Hope you feel better soon.

She brought up the deposit yet again… ICK! Yet another confirmation that I had made the right choice. It left me feeling as though the focus was more on securing the $111 (and the remaining $333) than on the supposedly life-changing, upside down experience of the people she was guiding.

Making this choice wasn’t dramatic, but nonetheless, I listened to the quiet, inconvenient voice of my intuition. As a recovering people-pleaser and “yes girl,” this felt especially brave.

I will continue listening to the sometimes uncomfortable voice of my internal GPS. I hope this inspires you to do the same and not press the system override button.

In love and gratitude,

Madeline