Episode 176: The Longest Journey We’ll Ever Take is the 14″ from the Head to the Heart with Karissa Sherwood

Welcome to a special episode. Today is Valentine’s Day, and if you’ve been following, you have heard some beautiful, powerful, life-changing stories of the entrepreneurs, authors, and members of the Mosaic community and Joan of Arc Publishing.

Today I have my new friend Karissa with me. I specifically asked if she would be my Valentine’s Day episode for a good reason, and I’m going to let her share more about the book she wrote and the why. I was so touched by her—her spirit, energy, aura, and vulnerability about her journey as a mother, specifically to her daughter Marley. It’s just so inspirational.

I’m all about realness, authenticity, and rawness, and Karissa shared some things with us at our recent Joa Collective about how she grew into the shoes she now wears. I’ll let her share more, but first—welcome. I’m so grateful you made time to be here.

Thank you, and thank you so much for having me, and for all your kind words. I receive all of them.

Good. I’m glad to hear that. I’ll let you take over and share with our listeners the parts of your journey that have been most meaningful to you—your upbringing, family, faith journey, education—whatever has shaped who you are today.

Maybe the best place to start is with my most recent book, Mothering Marley: Wounds to Wisdom. I’m a mother of four. Marley is my third child. My oldest is 21, so I’ve been at this for a while. I thought motherhood would be much easier than it was. I’d always wanted to be a mom and felt I had this innate sense of nurturing, love, and tenderness. I thought I’d be the best mom in the world. I thought it looked easy. I didn’t know why it seemed hard for other people.

But motherhood was so much harder than I expected. As soon as I became a mother, I realized I didn’t know how to do this. My children, in their sweetness, constantly reflected back to me all my own pain. We often hear the saying that a mother’s love knows no bounds, but I actually disagree. We can’t fully extend the love we feel because we are limited by our own pain. That’s where the block comes. We love deeply and want to show up fearlessly, but our own wounds get mixed in.

That resonates. The way you explain it makes sense.

I was constantly beating myself up because how I was showing up wasn’t what was in my heart. I was reactive and didn’t know why. So much of it came from my own childhood wounds—things we never talked about growing up. You just keep going, get married, have kids, do the things. I felt like the worst person in the world, the only one having these feelings. And even worse, I felt like a bad mom—that’s the worst label you can give yourself.

I’d tell myself I had no value. My book is about pulling out all those parts and realizing everyone has them. We just don’t talk about them. We identify with the pain, which magnifies it. I learned I am not those things—they were just feelings.

Thank you for opening this conversation. It’s so needed. Growing up, hard things weren’t talked about, especially anything that might bring shame to a person or family. So, what made you decide to write about this experience, about mothering Marley?

My daughter Marley has special needs but was undiagnosed for 14 years. She was behind in everything—delays were her only diagnosis—so we had constant therapies and doctor visits I never experienced with my other kids. On top of that, I was carrying years of unhealed pain. I remember crying in my mom’s carport, begging her to tell me if there were any journals from women in our family who had gone through something really hard and made it through. She didn’t have any. I felt completely alone.

I didn’t feel I could talk to living mothers—they might judge me. So later, after doing my healing work, I realized this book is the journal I always wanted.

That’s beautiful. What a legacy for your children and others who’ve wished for the same. Tell me about your faith journey—how did that play into it?

I believe if we don’t take care of ourselves mentally and emotionally, the pain will manifest physically. I had stomach cancer when I was married with two little boys. After surgery, chemo, and radiation, years later my reconstructed stomach began to unravel—literally matching what was happening inside me emotionally. I had four kids then and was down for three months.

We were active in our faith, but when I couldn’t function, I cut anything extra: scripture reading, church activities, even cooking. I was just trying to survive. Over time, I began questioning beliefs I’d never examined, noticing the judgments people in church made about others’ circumstances.

During that time, I felt an increase of love—not because I was “earning” it through religious activity, but because I was giving all I had, even if it looked like nothing from the outside. That was a huge shift in my belief system.

That’s such a powerful reframing. How did you go from that place to where you are now—as a psychic medium?

Looking back, I always had this gift, but I couldn’t see it because it wasn’t possible or acceptable in my religion. I could sense my ancestors and spirit team, but thought it was normal for any spiritual person.

About a year and a half after leaving the church, I saw the spirit of a young woman who had recently passed from cancer. I didn’t know her or what she looked like, but I knew it was her. My belief that “this isn’t possible for me” shattered in that moment. From there, the floodgates opened.

I think many women feel that way—that spiritual gifts are for other people, not for them.

Yes, especially in the LDS faith, where men hold the priesthood and have authority to act in the name of God. That adds layers to the belief that certain spiritual experiences aren’t “for us.”

Now, motherhood and mediumship are my two greatest passions. I see and witness the reality of the spirit world every day. My greatest teachers are those in the spirit world, and it’s an honor to be a voice for the voiceless.

If only we could realize what’s available to us. What helped you open the floodgates?

Learning to trust myself. In religion, you’re taught everything outside you is the authority, so you don’t look inside. Leaving my faith of origin—despite the disapproval of family and friends—was my foundation for trusting myself and my connection with God.

What does “living beyond the shadow of doubt” mean to you?

Doubt happens in the mind—noise, confusion, beliefs, patterns. Living beyond doubt means living from the heart, where the soul connects to the body. The more we connect there, the more trust we build.

Beautifully said. Thank you for sharing your story. Where can people connect with you?

I go by The Mothering Medium—www.themotheringmedium.com or Instagram @themotheringmedium. Everything I offer is there.

A few fun questions:
Favorite book: Heal Your Body, Heal Your Life by Louise Hay.
Introvert or extrovert: Introverted extrovert.
Favorite artist: Anything high-vibe.
Night owl or morning lark: Morning lark.
Celebrity crush: Thor, and Matthew McConaughey since junior high.
Still or carbonated water: Still.
Furthest traveled: Bali—it called me there, and it was life-changing.

Karissa, it’s been an honor.

Thank you—and I just want to say, from the moment you shared about your child and book in our coaching group, I felt your depth of love and honor you for working through your own pain to fully offer that love. I see you, I support you.

That’s so generous, and I receive it. You’re a beautiful soul.

Thank you. I love you.

I love you.