My Journey From Mission Work Into Becoming a Licensed Psilocybin Facilitator

Sage’s Story: A Journey From Ministry to Mushrooms

For most of my life, I believed I knew exactly who I was meant to be. In my early twenties, I devoted myself to Christian missions and spent a decade traveling the world. I planted churches, created documentaries, and told the stories of people facing incredible hardship in communities across 23 countries.

Working with people in this way was meaningful and beautiful. I sat with so many inspiring souls in their joys and their heartbreak. I listened to their stories intently, and did my best to hold space for their grief.

Service was my purpose, and for a long time, it felt like truth.

Then something began to crack. The beliefs that shaped my world since childhood started slipping out from under me. For those who are unaware, deconstructing a lifetime of religious identity is nothing like changing a strong opinion. It feels as if the very ground you’ve built your entire life on suddenly disappears and you’re left floating in the unknown.

It was disorienting, painful, and incredibly lonely. The certainty I lived with for so many years dissolved, and I had no idea what would take its place.

During this period, life threw even more weight onto my shoulders. My father died suddenly, and the grief hit me like a tidal wave. I was a burned out business owner trying to keep my creative consulting company afloat, a father of young kids trying his best to love and support our family while also navigating the collapse of my inner world.

Depression and burnout ruled my life. I felt disconnected not only from myself, but also my work and the people I loved. The beliefs I had relied on for guidance no longer served me, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find my way back to a sense of purpose.

That’s when a friend offered me the chance to try psilocybin on his couch for the day.

What Happened On That Couch?

Needless to say, my “intentions” for that first journey would have been something along the lines of a desperate “HELP!” screamed in the general direction of the sky. I learned quickly that the mushrooms can work with just about any intentions we bring to them.

On that couch, watched over by a friend, the mushrooms met me exactly where I was. They didn’t judge me for being angry or cynical or lost or drowning in grief. They didn’t ask me to believe anything or become anything I wasn’t ready to be. 

They simply showed me what I needed to see. A wisdom that was inside of me all along. 

For the first time in my life, I experienced an unfathomable amount of self-love. Inner safety. A sense of wholeness I didn’t know was possible. This experience was amplified by the contrast of just how much pain I had been experiencing in the months leading up to this moment.

What surprised me most was that the mushrooms didn’t give me a list of action items or new beliefs that would lead to a better life. They didn’t tell me what to do or who to become. An approach I was all too familiar with from my prior religious days. Instead, I was given the chance to actually BECOME the version of myself that felt healthy. 

If only for a moment, I felt whole. Like I belonged in my own body.

As powerful as that experience was, it didn’t magically fix everything. Healing doesn’t work that way. But it did show me that a different life was possible. And that was all I needed. A glimpse. A direction to walk in. A reminder that I wasn’t as broken as I thought I was.

The Journey That Followed

Psilocybin had such a profound impact on my life, that I knew I wanted to dedicate my life to helping others walk their own path with this incredible gift. What began as a single, life-altering experience grew into a calling that I simply couldn’t ignore. When Oregon legalized psilocybin services in 2023, it was time to step away from my creative consulting business and into a completely new chapter.


After years of personal healing work, dozens of personal psilocybin journeys, and professional facilitator training, I completed a certification program at the Synaptic Institute and became a licensed psilocybin facilitator.


I learned how to hold space with integrity. I learned the structure and responsibility involved in supporting someone through vulnerable experiences, similar to the one I had for my first time with psilocybin. I discovered that the same qualities that guided my mission work like compassion and love for human stories were exactly what this work required.


Since 2023, I have guided more than fifty clients through legal psilocybin journeys at licensed service centers across Oregon.


Many of these clients are professionals, leaders, creatives, caregivers and infinitely curious minds who find themselves experiencing burn out or long periods of internal disconnection. I understand their struggle because I have lived it. I know the feeling of trying to hold it together while everything inside you is unraveling. I know the pressure of running a business while your inner world is collapsing. And I know what it is like to search for meaning when everything familiar falls away.


This deeply personal understanding shapes the energy I bring to my practice.


My work with every client is relational at its core. I strive to bring a grounded presence and warm smile to every interaction. I allow plenty of room for honesty, as well as silence.


My approach is built on the principles I learned through years of deconstructing deeply held belief systems and I believe that each person has their own path toward meaning, that healing can’t be rushed. Most importantly, I know that the wisdom people are seeking often already lives inside them and I want to be there when it shows itself.

This is why I created ClearHaven. For those who feel lost, stuck, burnt out, or spiritually displaced and need a space to explore their inner world without judgement.

My own process of deconstructing limiting belief systems helped me understand how deeply personal and varied the search for meaning can be. I believe each person has their own path of healing and it is rarely a straight line.