I have landed at the edge of this vast and sacred lake, where the volcanoes stand as ancient sentinels, holding stories older than time itself. Lake Atitlán is a place where the waters reflect not just the sky, but the depths of the soul—a place where the veils thin, where the noise of the world quiets just enough to hear what has been whispering all along.
I am here for 30 days. To breathe. To listen. To tend to the parts of me that have been pulled in many directions this past season. Life has been full, complex, and beautiful in ways I never could have predicted. Since my last writing, I have stepped into a full-time role as the Director of Business and Community Promotion for the City of Idaho Springs—a path I did not seek, and one that found me. And while it is different from my work as a healer, an herbalist, a guide through the plant kingdom, it is not so different. Because at its core, my work has always been about connection. About gathering people in sacred spaces, fostering growth, and remembering the deeper rhythms that sustain us.
Idaho Springs holds immense potential. I see it as a place where we can come together, not just for economic growth, and for true healing—of our relationships, of our communities, of our collective nervous system. We are all longing for this, whether we name it or not. A return to something real, something rooted, something that does not ask us to be more than we already are. Instead welcomes us back to who we’ve always been.
I do think it is important to acknowledge that I feel the tension of the world. The weight of division, of separation, of the collective forgetting that we are not apart from one another. That we do not own land, that the Earth is not something to be possessed—she is not ours, we belong to her. This is the truth I am holding as we move into the new year: that the only way forward is back to love. Back to connection. Back to the knowing that we are not separate.
As I sit by the lake each morning, watching the mist rise like breath from the water’s surface, I am also dreaming of what is to come. In late March, I will be launching new offerings- workshops, and opening spots for deeper one-on-one spaces of learning and healing. These spaces will be limited as I am leaning into balance in my new roles.
This time of stillness is preparing me for what is next, for the weaving of these two worlds—my work in Idaho Springs and my work in the plant kingdom. I am also feeling the pull to step away from social media, to shift into a slower, more intentional way of sharing. Deepening my newsletter and blog where I can weave together updates from both aspects of my life, where we can gather in a way that feels less fleeting, less dictated by algorithms and urgency.
We are living in a time of profound change. And I am ready to change with it. To live in a world where connection, healing, and love are at the center. Where we make space for stillness, for integration, for the deep work of remembering.
For now, I am here, letting the lake do its work on me. And soon, I will return home—refreshed, grounded, and ready for what is next.
Until then, I invite you to take a breath with me.
To sit in stillness.
To listen to the spaces between.
To return to love.
More soon, from this shifting, sacred place.
Sadie
