My Journey
I found my way through. Now I’m here to help you find yours.
You can be deeply successful and quietly struggling at the same time.
You can be the strong one, the capable one, the one everyone leans on, and still feel stuck, or empty, or far from yourself.
The world looks at innovators and assumes they are fine.
I know better. I am one of them, and I was not fine.
There was a morning I couldn’t lift my head from the pillow.
For more than twenty-five years, I coached people who carried enormous responsibility: leaders, visionaries, people others depended on. More than four thousand one-on-one sessions with those who seemed, from the outside, to have it all figured out.
I lived for that work. I thrived on it. I had always been good at building steadiness for other people. It would be a long time before I understood why I needed to.
And that morning, I couldn’t get out of bed.
It came as a cascade. First, burnout: the slow cost of twenty to thirty coaching sessions a week, year after year, pouring myself into other people. Then identity theft, and the violation of losing control of my own name. Long Covid, an exhaustion unlike anything I had known. And a skin cancer diagnosis that brought me to my knees.
Each one took something, until there was nothing left to give. The woman who had guided thousands of others through their hardest moments could not move through her own.
My doctor prescribed rest. For someone who had measured her worth in achievement her whole life, that felt less like medicine and more like a prison sentence. But there was no bulldozing through this one. When I tried, my body refused.
So I turned to what I knew. I went to talk therapy, and I went all in, hours a day, for weeks. It helped. And still, the deep relief I was searching for stayed just out of reach.
I was a coach who understood transformation. I had the tools. I had guided thousands of others home to themselves.
And I could not find my own way back. Fear began to whisper that I never would.
Then someone said a word I had not heard before: ketamine.
My first reaction was skepticism. My family and friends had louder reactions. “Isn’t that a horse tranquilizer?” I heard them all.
But I am a researcher at heart, so I read everything I could. Decades of medical use. A place on the World Health Organization’s list of essential medicines. Researchers calling it the biggest breakthrough in depression research in fifty years.
And I was desperate for a way through, desperate enough to consider something I never imagined for myself. I did not drink. I did not do drugs. And yet here was ketamine: legal, safe, prescribed. For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope.
Something in me went quiet and certain: pay attention.
So I did the thing that frightened me. I decided to experience ketamine for myself.
I sat with my guide, an eye mask on, and set a single intention. One word, the thing I had lost and wanted most: peace.
As the medicine dissolved and the room fell away, I felt something I had not felt in longer than I could remember. Safety. Permission to stop clinging to control. And breath by breath, my body began to surrender.
And then I began to see.
An angel was carrying me through the sky, toward a small opening far ahead, a threshold I somehow knew I had to pass through. As we drew closer, everything in me resisted. Fear rose up and screamed, not aloud, but inside, in a voice I could hear as clearly as my own.
I’m going to die. I’m going to die.
But we passed through anyway. Through what felt like the eye of a needle.
And on the other side was a space so full of beauty and aliveness and peace that I have never found the words to express it. I felt whole. I felt content in a way I had never known was possible.
For the first time in years, I was not afraid.
When I came back, I understood something in my bones that I had never truly grasped: my fear of dying had been quietly keeping me from living.
And now that the fear had loosened its grip, I saw that the shortness of life is not something to dread. It is the very reason to meet each day with courage, and with an open heart.
The medicine opened a door. What I did next decided everything.
Here is what I understood most clearly of all, lying there in the quiet afterward. The medicine had opened a door. And if I walked back into my old life unchanged, the door would simply close again.
The experience alone was not the healing. What I did with it, in the days and weeks that followed, was the healing.
I call it The 10/90 Rule. Ketamine is ten percent. The structured, human-guided preparation and integration is ninety percent.
So, I began the real work. Daily practice. Honest reflection. New boundaries. I brought every coaching tool I had gathered in twenty-five years to the insights I had just been given, and slowly, deliberately, over weeks, I built a new life around them.
I did more than recover. I came home to myself, more whole than I had ever been.
And when I looked for someone who taught this, who understood that the medicine was only the beginning and that the lasting change lived in the integration, I could not find them.
There were ketamine clinics offering the medicine and nothing after. There were therapists treating the past. But I could not find anyone pairing the opening ketamine creates with the forward-looking coaching that carries it into daily life.
The thing that had saved me did not yet exist as a profession.
So, I created it.
I call it Conscious Ketamine-Assisted Coaching®, and in building my practice, I found myself pioneering a field that did not yet have a name: ketamine coaching. I built a method with three parts: the preparation that readies you, the grounded and compassionate presence that steadies you, and the integration coaching that makes the change your own.
If you’re reading this and something in you is saying that’s me, that’s worth a conversation.
Let’s connect to explore where you are and whether this work fits.
Grounded in Safety.
Guided by Compassion.®
Why safety sits at the center
That morning I couldn’t lift my head from the pillow was not where my story begins. It was where something much older in me finally surfaced.
I grew up a child of an alcoholic. What that meant for me, as a young girl, was that I never quite knew where I stood. The ground beneath me had a way of shifting without warning, and just when I thought I had found my footing, a plan I could count on, a sense of what came next, it would move. And I would be reaching for stability once again.
I learned early on to long for certainty: to know exactly where I stood, and to feel safe standing there.
And I came to believe something else, too: that if I was capable enough, steady enough, responsible enough, I could build a measure of the safety no one had handed me. So I became the one who held things together. First at home, and then, for decades, for the clients I coached.
The strength was real. It was also, in part, a little girl still looking for solid ground.
I carried that into everything. It is why I paid such close attention to whether the clients I coached felt safe. And it is why, when I began this work, I needed to feel the permanence before I could ask anyone else to stand on it with me.
So, when I understood that I was helping to lay the foundation of a new field, I knew exactly what belonged in its floor. Guardrails. A container. A place where a person always knows where they stand and can trust the ground beneath them.
Those guardrails are concrete and actionable. I wrote the Ketamine Coaching Code of Ethics, the first this field has ever had, so that everyone who does this work, and everyone who receives it, can walk in with the certainty I once spent decades searching for.
And I practice it every day. This is the standard I hold, for you and for everyone who trusts this work.
The life behind the work
Before any of it, I told stories for a living. A television news anchor giving voice to the things that mattered. I have always believed in the power of a true story, well told, to change something in the person who hears it.
Years later I wrote a bestselling and award-winning book of my own, and it drew endorsements from Deepak Chopra, Wayne Dyer, Marianne Williamson, Neale Donald Walsch, and other esteemed luminaries.
After getting Conscious Ketamine-Assisted Coaching® off the ground, my mission quickly grew larger than the number of people I could ever reach on my own. If this work had transformed my life, and the lives of my clients, then the world needed more than one coach who understood it. It needed many. So I founded the Conscious Ketamine Coaching Academy®, to train and certify others to do this work with the same care, ethics, and depth.
But that is another part of the story, and this one is about you.
And it always will be. Yet if some part of you leans toward guiding others through this work, that longing belongs to your story too, and it may be your own door beginning to open.
What clients say
“From the moment we began, I felt an immediate sense of safety and comfort in the space Bronwyn created. Her ability to listen without judgment and offer insights that resonate profoundly is a testament to her exceptional skill as a coach.”
Rowdy D.“I felt completely safe, cared for, and deeply heard throughout the entire process. Bronwyn holds such a supportive and grounded space, and it allowed me to truly open up and transform.”
Patsy M.“This experience was the catalyst for me to make significant life changes, that I am still reaping the benefits from, nearly a year later.”
Kristeen S.Let’s begin
The change you are
looking for is one
conversation away.
We begin with a free fifteen-minute clarity call: a warm, easy conversation
about where you are, what you want, and whether this work is right for you.
One simple step, entirely in your hands.
Conscious Ketamine-Assisted Coaching® Proud Member
