Today we’d like to introduce you to Jordan (Jordo) Ceresnie.
Hi Jordan (Jordo), so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve valued relationships. Even as a kid, I was often the person friends or family members felt comfortable opening up to about their lives and their struggles. While I didn’t always know I wanted to become a therapist, I’ve always been someone who feels at ease connecting with others. In fact, I was born with another person beside me—I’m a twin—so relationship has quite literally been part of my life from the very beginning.
From a young age, I remember wanting to be a chef. I’m not exactly sure why. There wasn’t one specific meal or moment that inspired it. My parents were what I’d call decent cooks—classic suburban meals like Kraft mac and cheese and plenty of soda in the fridge. But I do remember the joy of being in the kitchen with someone, usually my mom, baking cookies or some kind of sweet treat and licking brownie batter off the spoon. Those small moments stuck with me.
I eventually pursued that path seriously. I worked in restaurants throughout high school and even missed much of the typical high school socializing my last year because I was working almost every day in an upscale kitchen. At 19, I moved across the country to California to work for chef **Thomas Keller**, who at the time was widely considered one of the best chefs in the world. I also attended culinary school while I was out there.
A few years later I moved back to Michigan. Around that time, I got a DUI and spent several days in a holding cell. It was a real wake-up call and planted the first seed that the “work hard, party hard” culture of the restaurant industry might not be the right long-term path for me.
Still, I stayed in the field for a while and worked my way up quickly. By 24, I had become an executive chef and was managing people twice my age. Around that same period, about 15 years ago, I also started a small food venture called Cheese Street, a gourmet grilled cheese food truck that primarily operated at music festivals and events. At the time, the kind of food, music, and creative culture I wanted to be part of didn’t really exist in my immediate surroundings, so in many ways I helped create it. Cheese Street became more than just a food stand—it was a small community built around good food, music, and shared experiences.
From the outside, it looked like I had everything I should want—a marriage, a house, a good-paying job, even making two food network appearances, and upward mobility in my career. But internally something still felt missing. That realization led me to begin exploring meditation and contemplative practices as a way to better understand my own experience and the deeper questions I was asking about life.
Around the time my daughter was born when I was 28, I knew I needed to make a change. I didn’t want to simply be a paycheck; I wanted to be present in my daughter’s life in a meaningful way. For a while I wandered a bit professionally—I worked as a pastry chef and even spent some time as a whole-animal butcher.
During that period, I also donated a kidney to my uncle after he developed severe kidney disease. While recovering in the hospital, something shifted in me. I felt deeply moved by the care I was receiving and had a moment where I realized I wanted to be part of offering that kind of care to others.
I left the culinary world and began pursuing nursing. I worked as a nursing assistant in one of the busiest hospitals in the state on a progressive care unit. There, I encountered people at some of the lowest points in their lives and witnessed several deaths. Those experiences impacted me deeply. I began to realize how impersonal death can feel in a hospital environment—bright fluorescent lights, machines constantly beeping, and a room cleaned and prepared for the next patient moments after someone passes.
That experience eventually led me into hospice work. Along the way, even though I was doing well in nursing school and healthcare, I noticed that what I cared about most were the conversations I was having with people—the human connection—more than the physical care itself.
While working in hospice, I made the difficult decision to leave nursing school, though I still completed my degree. Initially, I considered pursuing chaplaincy, but after reflecting more deeply I chose to pursue mental health counseling. It felt like a way to care for the mind, body, and spirit while also providing stability for my growing family.
There was really only one graduate program I felt called to attend: **Naropa University**, a small, Buddhist-inspired school that integrates contemplative practices and transpersonal psychology into mental health training. That approach resonated deeply with my own experiences with meditation and exploring non-ordinary states of consciousness.
Before starting the program, I attended a 10-day silent meditation retreat to center myself for the journey ahead. Even before graduate school began, I had a sense that my work would involve supporting people through transitions—transitions within life, into life, and eventually out of life. Part of that calling also involved helping people navigate non-ordinary states of consciousness, including psychedelic experiences.
After graduating several months ago, I landed what feels like a dream job at a local ketamine clinic. Interestingly, years earlier I had been in that same clinic sitting with a friend during their own ketamine journey. Now I’m the one holding space for others.
While I may technically be a new therapist, it often feels like I’ve been doing this work my whole life—just in different forms and contexts. I don’t know exactly where the path will lead long term, but for now it feels right. I’ve learned to trust my intuition and follow where it leads, and I feel honored to walk alongside people on their own journeys of healing, self-discovery, and growth.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
The road has been far from smooth; it’s more like an unpaved path through a dense, hilly forest. Along the way, I’ve battled self-doubt, imposter syndrome, and confusion. Initially, it was challenging to follow my own path instead of what I was “supposed to do.” If I hadn’t, I’d still be a chef, working 80-hour weeks and barely seeing my family. Deciding to leave nursing school in the middle was a difficult choice. It felt like failure, giving up a promising and respectable nursing career. How was I going to explain this choice to friends and family?, The more I’ve followed my heart, the easier things have become. Now, life feels pretty smooth. In fact, graduate school felt pretty easy, which is crazy, right?! I was working, a grad student, a father of two, an unpaid intern, and more… spinning twelve plates at once, but it didn’t feel daunting because I was on my own path.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I’m a ketamine and psychedelic therapist, and my passion is wellness—approaching it from many lenses. One of my other practices is sound healing, where I facilitate sound baths and guided meditations. I’ve been a lifelong musician, and over the years I’ve developed a deep love for playing intuitive, rhythmic instruments to help people relax, regulate their nervous systems, and connect with themselves.
What sets me apart is my diverse life experience. I’ve been a chef, a nursing assistant, a hospice worker, a musician, and now a therapist. While these paths seem different, the through line has always been service to others. These experiences help me relate to people from many walks of life and offer perspective from multiple angles.
I’m also proud of creating spaces that didn’t exist around me—like Cheese Street, a gourmet grilled cheese business I started 15 years ago at music festivals, which built community around food, music, and shared experiences.
All of this has led me to the work I do today, guiding people through transformative experiences with authenticity and care.
We’d love to hear about any fond memories you have from when you were growing up?
While not strictly one memory, some of my fondest childhood memories are of adventuring around the forest near my childhood home. I spent hours trudging through marshes and foliage. It feels so freeing and comforting just thinking about my time in nature.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @jordowellness
