Updated on May 14
Zoë Francesca Goldblatt, 59, spent much of her life afraid of dying.
“I had always had an existential fear of death, fear of nothingness, fear of ceasing to exist,” she told J. “I wanted to confront my fear of death before I died.”
The desire to understand and confront mortality led the East Bay resident down several paths, from studying poetry to working in dementia care to eventually becoming a death doula who provides emotional and spiritual support to people at the end of life.
Now, Goldblatt spends her days helping people navigate the very fears that once consumed her, including by offering the unconventional approach of taking psychedelic trips.
While psychedelic drugs have been taken recreationally for decades, a growing number of clinical studies have examined their possible therapeutic benefits, including as a treatment for depression, anxiety and substance-abuse disorders. Most psychedelics — including LSD (acid), MDMA (ecstasy or molly), DMT (an active ingredient in ayahuasca) and psilocybin (magic mushrooms) — are illegal under federal and California law. However, ketamine, an anesthetic with dissociative and psychedelic properties, can legally be prescribed in therapeutic settings in California.
(Aaron Levy-Wolins/J. Staff)
Goldblatt will join other Jews in the emerging field of psychedelic-assisted mental health care at a May 12 event at Manny’s in San Francisco, hosted by Bay Area Jewish funeral home Sinai Memorial and the Jewish Association for Death Education (JADE). The event will explore what psychedelic-assisted therapy, particularly with ketamine, could mean for people facing serious illness, death and grief. It will feature Goldblatt alongside psychedelics advocate Rabbi Zac Kamenetz of Berkeley and grief and trauma therapist Alissa Hirshfeld of Santa Rosa. They will discuss research, ethical questions and the ways psychedelic-assisted therapy can help both the people confronting mortality and their loved ones “find meaning, comfort and peace,” according to organizers.
Goldblatt, who has worked in end-of-life care since 2009 and co-founded the East Bay End of Life Doula Network, said that psychedelics can allow people to explore their mortality in ways that traditional talk therapy may not. Psychedelic trips, she said, are often compared to lucid dreams. During a session with her, individuals may enter states that help them feel more connected to nature or spirituality.
“If their body is compromised, in this expanded state of consciousness they may be flying, climbing a mountain, swimming in the ocean — things they haven’t done in years,” she said. “It can be a very transcendent experience.”
Preparation, she said, involves extensive screening of the individual as a candidate for this approach, as well as conversations about expectations and medical safety, often in collaboration with mental health professionals and physicians.
(Aaron Levy-Wolins/J. Staff)
During psychedelic sessions, she creates a calming environment with music, prayer and intention-setting.
“We sometimes have them set a sacred intention or say the Viduy,” Goldblatt said, referring to the Jewish confessional prayer recited during Yom Kippur and near the end of life.
While Goldblatt focuses on a spiritual path, Hirshfeld’s clinical background is rooted in decades of grief counseling and trauma therapy.
Hirshfeld, a licensed marriage and family therapist, previously served as bereavement manager at Hospice by the Bay and now specializes in grief, trauma and ketamine-assisted psychotherapy.
She said ketamine-assisted therapy can help people process traumatic grief, depression and emotional numbness by temporarily softening what neuroscientists call the brain’s “default mode network,” which she explains as the system associated with rumination, self-criticism and repetitive thinking.
“With that part softened, people are able to more easily access certain feelings,” Hirshfeld said. “People who feel blocked in some way from their grief can begin to process emotions that otherwise feel overwhelming.”
Ketamine, she said, also appears to promote neuroplasticity, or the brain’s ability to form new connections, which researchers believe may help people break longstanding emotional patterns.
“For some people, it’s really life-changing,” Hirshfeld said. “I’ve had clients who felt suicidal for years and then suddenly didn’t feel suicidal anymore.”
Still, she emphasized, psychedelic-assisted therapy is not appropriate for everyone and should be approached cautiously, ethically and with professional oversight.
Kamenetz, founder of Jewish psychedelic advocacy organization Shefa, believes that psychedelics can help not only those facing death or grief but also people supporting mourners.
“As Jews we have a pretty refined regime for the grief process after someone has passed away,” Kamenetz said. “But there is still a lot of discomfort with sitting with our emotions, the fullness of our experience. You can see this at shiva calls all the time.”
All three panelists acknowledged that psychedelics remain controversial despite growing research and increased public interest. But organizers hope the conversation can encourage a more nuanced and informed dialogue.
“One of our taglines is, ‘Talking about death won’t kill you,’” said Yael Galinson, a Sinai board member who has also worked for JADE. “The hope is that the more people can talk about death and prepare for death and end of life, the more meaningful the experience can be, and the less stressful for everybody involved.”