WOW! We doubled our community this week, thank you so much for being here!! I'm heading back to the US in a few weeks and will get some epic FREE courses online - up and running!! PLEASE introduce yourself, your magic, and what you're up to!!

Imagine you’re in a hot 🥵 moist beautiful piece of paradise and a hurdle of mosquitoes 🦟 🦟 🦟 are flying your way… what do you do..???

Who are we? Who is HTM for? I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to build a community— I was called to this. By pain. By purpose. By a whisper in my heart that grew louder every time I tried to ignore it. At just five years old, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that made me feel like a prisoner in my own body. Western medicine “kept me alive,” but it also kept me small—tied to pills, fear, and dependency. Disconnected from my sacred body, cast in chronic pain, I felt so different, I lived in so much shame. Since my earliest memories, I felt lost and confused—living in a society disconnected from our first mother, Mother Earth. I was born into a family doing the best they could with the resources, tools, and beliefs they had. I was raised in a system where time was something to manage, not savor. Productivity was praised, and discipline was my father’s primary love language. From a young age, I navigated the world in survival mode— wrapped in a pain few understood, asking the kind of questions most adults were too afraid to ask. Even my dad was impressed by the depth of my curiosity and awareness. As I begun to prepare for a life on my own, I spent eight years pursuing nursing, feeling called to help others heal and hopefully, feel better… all awhile slowly losing myself in the process. I was trapped in a system my soul didn’t believe in—a system built to treat symptoms, not root causes. But at the time, I didn’t know anything else. My life experience, my upbringing, my entire reality had been shaped by that model. My mom is a proud nurse. Western medicine was our guiding light—it was all we knew. So even as my soul whispered for something more, I kept trying to heal within the only framework I had exposure to. It’s a system that masks pain with prescriptions, only to create more symptoms.

Welcome Home! I didn’t find healing in the places I was told to look. I found it in the jungle. I found it sitting in ceremony, surrounded by people who weren’t trying to fix me—but were holding me. Witnessing me. Praying and meditating with me. I found it in the presence of monks and shamans who didn’t speak much… but somehow knew everything. There was no distraction out there. No numbing. No running. Just me, my breath, my body… and the truth I had been avoiding for so long. Psychedelic medicine didn’t “heal” me. It showed me. It showed me the pain I had buried. The patterns I had been repeating. The ways I had abandoned myself to survive. And in that space—held by nature, by community, by intention—I remembered something deeper than the pain. I remembered who I am. I remember sitting around the sacred fire, under the stars, full moon glowing, feeling my heart expand across timelines… free from suffering, and nurtured in authentic connection. To the earth. To spirit. To the people beside me. To myself. There were prayers spoken that I didn’t fully understand… but I felt them. There were songs that moved something ancient inside of me. There were moments where my mind wanted to drift, my spirit wanted to abort mission—leave my body. I felt everything in my being resisted wanting to go deeper. But I stayed. And that’s where the healing began. Not in escaping my life… but in finally being fully present with the uncomfort. Leaning in. These ceremonies taught me that healing isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering. Remembering your worth. Remembering your voice. Remembering that you were never broken. And the most powerful part? I didn’t have to do it alone. Healing in community… changes everything. Being seen in your truth. Being held in your darkness. Being celebrated in your light. That’s what brought my soul back to life. And now, I carry that with me. The prayer. The intention. The connection. Not just in ceremony… but in how I live every single day.