Lionberry

Farm grown Recovery for whatever the day took out of you

Shop

The 2026 KC Metaphysical 

The 2026 KC Metaphysical 

The 2026 KC Metaphysical 

by
862 862 people viewed this event.

The 2026 KC Metaphysical Fair will take place on March 13-14-15, 2026, at 

Harrah’s Kansas City Casino & Hotel. 

Join us for three big days of FUN at Spring KC Metaphysical! Our exhibitors will include vendors, psychics, artists and holistic wellness practitioners. Our legendary FREE hourly lectures are held all three days of our Fair and are included with your Fair admission. Single-day general admission tickets are just $9 with kids under 11 enjoying free Fair admission when they accompany an adult ticket holder. Our three-day VIP pass will be available exclusively on Friday March 13th and includes admission to all three days of our Fair, plus a swag bag with some nice treats inside, plus entry into twice as many hourly prize drawings, for only $22. All tickets are sold at the entrance to our Fair, during Fair hours. As always, our Fair will be a friendly, inclusive space with a positive community vibe. Save the dates, invite your friends + family, and come out to Spring KC Metaphysical on March 13-14-15!

  • Location: Harrah’s Kansas City Casino & Hotel, 1 Riverboat Dr, North Kansas City, MO 64116.

  • Dates & Times:

    • Friday, March 13: 2 pm – 9 pm

    • Saturday, March 14: 10 am – 8 pm

    • Sunday, March 15: 11 am – 6 pm

  • Admission: Tickets are sold at the fair entrance on the day of the event. Single-day admission is typically around $9 (based on prior events), with kids 10 and under free. Volunteers can receive free admission for the whole weekend. 

Fair Highlights

  • Exhibitors: The event will feature a wide range of exhibitors, including vendors, psychics, artists, and holistic wellness practitioners. Offerings often include crystals, tarot readings, aura photography, energy work, jewelry, and more.

  • Lectures & Prizes: Admission includes access to free hourly lectures and prize drawings held throughout the three days.

  • More Information: For the most up-to-date exhibitor and lecture schedules, you should check the official website closer to the event date. 

The event is known as the longest-running metaphysical event in Kansas City and provides a space for exploring the mind, body, and spirit. 

To register for this event please visit the following URL: https://kcmetaphysical.com/ →

 

Date And Time

03-13-2026 @ 02:00 PM to
03-15-2026 @ 06:00 PM

Share With Friends

When Words Lose Their Meaning

Lionberry 's Weekly Delusion and Re-illusion Update.

The phrase “food is medicine” has become the wellness world’s version of “thoughts and prayers.” Everyone says it. Everyone feels good saying it. And almost nobody means anything real when they do. That’s the danger—not the phrase itself, but what happens when language gets stretched so far it stops pointing to anything true.

The original use of the phrase belonged to grandmas, gardeners, and people who still know how to cook and where food comes from. In that world, “food is medicine” meant something simple and grounded. A piece of meat and some vegetables—and fruit when it was in season—was just a regular meal. And then there were the special things you made when someone didn’t feel well: mixtures built from botanicals, herbs, fruits, nuts, grasses, roots, seeds, and whatever the land offered that season. Things pulled straight from soil and pantry because they carried function, flavor, and a purpose. That usage was peaceful, instinctive, and honest.

Then came the influencers, using the same phrase while holding something powdered, flavored, and algorithm-optimized. “Food is medicine” became a caption under a neon shake that tastes like peach sorbet and contains a clinically irrelevant amount of plant dust. They didn’t inherit the meaning—they inherited the hashtag. And hashtags don’t carry wisdom; they carry trend cycles.

Then comes the USDA, NIH, and hospital systems, who use both phrases—but in different ways. “Food Is Medicine” is their broad, public-facing concept, the umbrella idea that nutrition is foundational for health. “Food As Medicine”—capital As—is the technical term for the clinical, billing-coded interventions:

produce prescriptions,

medically tailored meals,

medically tailored groceries.

This version has insurance pathways, reimbursement logic, metrics, screenings, and outcome evaluations. It isn’t a belief system. It’s a healthcare program.

So we end up with two phrases—Food Is Medicine and Food As Medicine—that sound almost identical but function in totally different worlds. And both of them, at their best, once pointed to something we still have right now: real plants growing from real soil, carrying real chemistry that does real things in the human body. Not ancient in the sense of “long ago,” but ancient in the sense of continuity—still alive, still growing, still here.

Once a phrase becomes universal, though, it becomes meaningless.

That’s what’s happening now.

A wellness word printed on plastic.

“Natural” stamped on a bag of potato chips.

“Immune-supporting” slapped on anything that wants to look virtuous.

Marketing fog replacing actual meaning.

It’s Peacekeepers in 1984.

It’s “community” in Big Tech.

And on the Idiocracy side, it’s the fictional Electrolyte Drink Brawndo—marketed so aggressively that the entire population believes “it’s got what plants crave.”

In the film, they irrigate crops with the Electrolyte Drink Brawndo instead of water because advertising has replaced knowledge. Marketing departments tell us what truth is. The soil dies. The crops fail. The land collapses into a dust bowl. That’s what linguistic drift does: it hollows meaning until the absurd becomes normal.

“Food is medicine” used to mean:

eat real plants,

respect soil,

trust the chemistry that grows in the field,

trust the phytonutrients that come from this earth,

food keeps you alive and makes you whole.

Now it means turmeric dust on junk food.

Or a wellness word added so a product can sell for $3 more.

This hollowed-out category is not a comfortable place for real food to sit.

The old category, where LionBerry sits—the one before wellness gloss, before powdered fantasy, before language drift washed the meaning out of the words—still exists. But sitting there is not accidental. People tell me all the time to cheapen it, powder it, plastic-bottle it, isolate it, dilute it, lab-flavor it, margin-boost it, and make it “scalable” by stripping out the thing that makes it real.

I don’t do it.

Not because it’s easy.

But because sometimes the right thing to do is always the hardest thing to do.

LionBerry sits in the old category because I fight for it to sit there.

Real plants.

Real chemistry.

Real soil.

Real function.

Zero powdered fantasy.

LionBerry is exactly what it says it is: a farm-crafted drink made out of actual food.

When I say “the phrase doesn’t need to be fixed,” I mean the phrase “food is medicine.”

We don’t need to invent a new set of buzzwords or rescue the old ones from misuse.

We don’t need to rebuild or replace the language itself.

What needs to change is this:

start making products that mean what the words used to mean.

Start making food products that are just food