Dr. Brenda Durdle, Zephyr Psychological

Dr. Brenda Durdle, Zephyr Psychological Psychotherapy with women

07/07/2026

Dr. Durdle is now a retired psychologist.

06/09/2026

by Matt Moberg

I think every human being
eventually has a moment
where they are standing outside in sweatpants
that have lost the will to be pants,
holding a trash bag, a divorce, a parking ticket,
or some other receipt from the universe
that says, “surprise, this too is part of it.”

And then the sky bruises purple.

And the air touches your face
like it knows your whole story.

And suddenly you realize:

all the real is actually unreal.

The dirt.
The breath.
The weird little bones in your hands.
The fact that we are here,
on a floating rock with pollen counts,
paying bills,
missing dead people,
loving living people
who say “leaving now”
while still fully naked and looking for socks.

And still,
the moon clocks in.

No applause.
No benefits.
No note from management saying,
“Great work being ancient and luminous again.”

Just the moon,
working nights
like a single mother with no applause,
packing silver lunches
for every dark thing
that still has to rise.

Tell me that isn’t holy.
Tell me there is a better word
than sacred
for the way light keeps returning
with no guarantee
we will actually stop and take note.

I know people who believe in therapy,
probiotics,
tarot,
twelve-step meetings,
manifestation journals,
and waiting exactly eleven minutes
before texting back
so they do not appear emotionally available,
even though their whole nervous system
is standing in the driveway holding flowers.

And underneath all of it,
every ritual,
every doctrine,
every smoothie with chia seeds,
the prayer is the same:

Please let me be loved.
Please let me be forgiven.
Please let this strange little life
mean something
before my lower back
submits its formal resignation.

What is going on?

For real tho—What is this place?

This unbearable tenderness
of being alive long enough
to watch steam lift from coffee in winter
like a soul practicing leaving.

To see your friend laugh so hard
they slap the table
as if joy is a mosquito
they are trying to kill.

To hear a child say “pisghetti”
and, for one shining second,
realize language
has finally been improved.

I know I already noted this in the first piece,
but the older I get,
the less use I have for certainty.

Certainty has never made me pull over
because the sunset looked like God
dropped a jar of peach jam
across the whole midwestern sky
and decided to be lazy
and not clean up.

Certainty has never made me gasp
at rain on hot pavement.

Certainty has never found me
in the cereal aisle,
holding Captain Crunch,
suddenly remembering
that everyone I have ever loved
was made from stardust,
hunger,
and a series of decisions
we probably should have slept on.

No.
It has always been awe.

Awe was the first church.

Before steeples.
Before committees.
Before men got involved
and started making rules about skirts.

Awe was there
with its wild hair
and muddy feet,
saying:

Look.
Look again.
Look until looking
becomes love.

Awe, and soup.

Awe, and someone rubbing your back
when you are sick.

Awe, and old couples at Target
arguing gently about avocados,
as if marriage is not one vow
but ten thousand errands
performed beside the person
who knows exactly
how you like the cart pushed.

Maybe gratitude
was never meant to sound elegant.

Maybe gratitude sounds like:

“Damn.
That woodpecker is trying
to beat that tree from itself.”

Maybe gratitude sounds like:

“Thank you, body,
for continuing to drag me through this world
despite the many slim jims
I have done to you
at gas stations.”

Maybe gratitude sounds like:

“Thank you to the dogs
who lose their entire minds
when we come home
as if we have returned from war
and not Walgreens.”

For me, that might be my gospel.

That joy that does not wait for us
to be impressive but only needs us
to come through the door.

Because the truth is,
this life is devastating.

And ridiculous.

One minute you are 22 and invincible,
driving too fast,
eating gas station nachos
with the confidence of a Greek god.

The next minute you are googling,
“Can sneezing cause a hamstring injury?”
and the answer is,
apparently,
“Welcome to the second half of your life.”

But even now—

even tired,
even grieving,
even emotionally held together
by iced coffee, playlists,
and one very specific wolves hoodie—

we keep finding reasons
to stay soft.

We plant tomatoes
even though grief is real.

We bake bread
even though the news is on fire.

We send photos of the sky
to people we love
with captions like,
“LOOK,”
as if beauty is an emergency
and we are all volunteer firefighters.

We keep saying,
“You have to see this,”
because wonder
is the oldest form
of resurrection.

So here’s to the believers
and the atheists
and the agnostics
and the people whose entire theology
is just trying not to cry
in the DMV line.

Here’s to the people clinging to faith.

Here’s to the people clinging to Xanax
and oat milk
and the one group chat
where nobody pretends to be okay.

Here’s to the tender-hearted weirdos.

The accidental mystics.

The ones who can contemplate mortality
for six straight hours
and then become emotionally attached
to a perfect peach.

The ones who know
despair has a mouth,
but so does laughter.

May we never stop being drop-kicked by beauty
in the middle of a Sunday afternoon.

May we never become so polished
that we forget how to stand
in the Starbucks line of existence
with our dumb, gorgeous hearts open,
feeling the enormity of it all
rattle around in our bones
like thunder
looking for somewhere to laugh.

And may we remember:

whatever else this is,
whatever mess,
whatever miracle,
whatever cosmic group project
no one was prepped for—

all’ve it is astonishing.
that we are here.
that we have loved enough to be ruined.
that the moon keeps showing up.
that bread exists.

So pass it on.

Tear off a piece
with your bare hands.

Take it in as you take it down.

And then go outside and look at that moon.

Preparing for my final month as a psychologist. Such a fulfilling career! I am looking back fondly on the work and looki...
05/19/2026

Preparing for my final month as a psychologist. Such a fulfilling career! I am looking back fondly on the work and looking forward to the next chapter and to choosing a suitable adventure.

03/29/2026
03/04/2026
02/26/2026
01/26/2026

FYI

An Open Letter on Psychedelic-Assisted Psychotherapy, Public Protection, and Evidence-Informed Regulation
To the Leadership of the BC College of Social Workers and Other Canadian Health Regulatory Colleges,

We write as practitioners, educators, researchers, students, and clinicians working across mental health, public health, and social care. We support robust professional regulation and public protection. We also support an evidence-based, anti-oppressive harm-reduction-oriented approach to emerging therapies. This letter expresses serious concern that the current proposed guidelines by the British Columbia College of Social Workers (BCCSW) on psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy prioritize legal defensiveness over patient safety, scientific evidence, and ethical clinical practice. We call for a more thorough, evidence-informed regulatory approach that reflects contemporary knowledge and real-world patient behaviour.
The current guidelines clarify that psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy is outside the authorized scope of social work practice except within narrow federal legal pathways. It prohibits social workers from administering, possessing, facilitating access to, referring to, or advertising psychedelic-assisted therapy. It further restricts clinicians from advising on safer use or engaging with unregulated providers. While it permits psychoeducation and preparation or integration counselling, these activities must be strictly separated from any facilitation or endorsement of psychedelic use, including harm-reduction discussions that could be interpreted as guidance.
From a patient safety perspective, the guidance creates conditions that discourage disclosure and meaningful clinical dialogue. Patients are increasingly aware of and interested in psychedelic therapies, and many will pursue these experiences regardless of regulatory positions. When clinicians are constrained from discussing risks, contraindications, medication interactions, trauma vulnerability, or warning signs, the quality of care becomes compromised. The guideline effectively pushes use into unsupported settings while preventing regulated professionals from applying basic clinical judgment to mitigate foreseeable harms.
Furthermore, the guidelines risk undermining trust between patients and regulated professionals. Patients who are informed about the scientific literature may perceive social workers and other clinicians as constrained, evasive, or ideologically opposed to care that is widely discussed in medical and academic contexts. This credibility gap threatens the therapeutic alliance and may drive patients away from licensed care toward underground facilitators who lack accountability, standards, or oversight.
Importantly, the guidance is misaligned with a growing body of peer-reviewed evidence demonstrating potential benefits of psychedelic-assisted therapy for treatment-resistant depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, end-of-life distress, and substance use disorders. By artificially separating preparation and integration from the therapeutic model in which evidence of benefit exists, the guideline fragments an intervention that is evaluated as a whole. This places practitioners in an ethical conflict between regulatory compliance and their obligation to practice in accordance with the best available evidence.
The conflict posed here props up and adopts a prohibitionist logic in which illegality is treated as a proxy for clinical harm. This approach reflects outdated drug policy paradigms that have repeatedly failed to protect public health. It sidelines harm reduction as a legitimate clinical framework and replaces it with a risk-avoidant posture focused on institutional liability. In doing so, it departs from contemporary public health approaches that recognize patient autonomy, reduce preventable harm, and prioritize safety over moral judgment.
Such actions, including the exclusion of social workers and other non-prescribing mental health professionals from meaningful participation in psychedelic care, diminishing the value of expertise in trauma-informed practice, relational therapy, cultural safety, and integration. These competencies are central to patient outcomes in psychedelic-assisted therapy. The result is an erosion of interdisciplinary care models and an implicit reinforcement of medical dominance over fundamentally psychotherapeutic treatments.
Moreover, at the system level, the guideline restricts safe, supported access to only a small number of federally authorized pathways, leaving most patients without access. This exacerbates inequity by privileging those with financial means, geographic proximity, or eligibility for research trials. Patients outside these pathways are left without professional support, despite demonstrated need and growing evidence of benefit.
Our Call
Regulation should evolve alongside evidence and clinical reality. Current guidelines, while well-intentioned, risk increasing harm, undermining trust in regulated professionals, and entrenching outdated drug policy under the guise of public protection. A revised approach grounded in harm reduction, interdisciplinary care, and scientific evidence would better serve patients, practitioners, and the public interest.
We call on the College and peer regulators to revisit this guideline through a transparent, multidisciplinary, and evidence-informed process. Such a review should meaningfully engage clinicians, researchers, ethicists, and people with lived experience. It should distinguish facilitation of illegal activity from clinically necessary risk assessment and harm reduction. It should align regulatory standards with contemporary science, public health principles, and the realities of patient behaviour. Above all, it should prioritize patient safety and ethical care over legal minimalism.

The undersigned,

01/14/2026
01/02/2026

You cannot suffer the past or the future, because they do not exist. 🌿

What weighs on us is often the mind replaying old memories or imagining uncertain tomorrows. Peace is found only in this moment—right here, right now.

Breathe. Let go. Be present.

The present is where life truly happens. ✨

01/02/2026

Happy 2026, everyone :)! I am offering a new virtual ADHD Women's Group - please email [email protected] or message via this page to register or request more information. Thank-you so very much :)!

Address

333 Charlotte Street
Sydney, NS

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Dr. Brenda Durdle, Zephyr Psychological posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Shortcuts

Share