Here I am on my 40th birthday, standing at the threshold of a new decade, I have left Guatemala after weeks of deep rest, clarity, and renewal. There has been a sacred unraveling—a shedding, a remembering. A return.
In this time of reflection, I have made a decision one firm decision: I am stepping off Instagram. My voice, my words, my medicine will now live here, in the rhythm of my blog and newsletters, and of course face to face where real connection has shown me the depth and importance of holding space in my community. This space will be a weaving—stories of my own journey, the magic of the plants, and the wisdom of ritual. A slower way of sharing, one that feels aligned with the deeper truths I am learning to embody.
One of the most surprising shifts I’ve made during my time in Guatemala has been going completely caffeine-free for the last 30 days. No tea leaf, no black tea!!! (seriously those that know me understand the challenge here) No crutch to pull me through the mornings. At first, I wondered if my body would resist—if I would feel sluggish or disconnected. And instead, it was an awakening. My nervous system softened, my sleep deepened, and a natural energy, unforced and steady, began to flow through me.
This trip has also been about learning to release rigidity. At home, I follow a strict diet—no gluten, no sugar, no dairy, no meat, no processed food. While in Guatemala, I trusted my body to guide me, to decide what nourishment felt right. I enjoyed bread, pasta, even a little sugar and meat, feeling at ease rather than restricted. My body felt strong, and for the first time, I wished I could carry this freedom into my daily life in the U.S. And yet, I know I cannot trust the food system at home in the same way. This has been another awakening—to find balance, to listen, to trust myself in every moment rather than rigidly follow a set of rules.
This time away has made me dig deep and get very curious about freedom and loss. It has become such a polarized topic that I knew I needed to get clear and redefine freedom for my heart and integrate the understanding of loss. We are told so many stories about what it means to be free, especially through the mainstream media. As I paused, peeling back the layers, I realized that not everything we lose is a loss. Some things are a freedom. Some things are a second chance. Some things are a miracle in disguise. Some things are a detachment long needed; a clarity brought to blurry eyes. Some things are an intervention. Some things are the unexpected answer to a long-chanted prayer. Some things are a healing. Some things are a becoming. Some things are planned long before we ever came to be. Some things are a devastation, but others are a kind of vital guidance, the kind of course correction we did not even know we needed. The kind we did not even realize we were asking for all along.
True freedom means having the power to define what being free means in our own lives, within our own hearts. For me, it means choosing a rhythm that honors my soul’s pace. It means stepping away from external validation and returning to my own wisdom. It means letting go of the illusion of hierarchy—because in the spiritual world, there is only a circle, no separation. The first becomes the last, and the last becomes the first. There is no race, no ranking, no destination—only the unfolding.
At the end of last year and the beginning of 2025, I was moving through deep darkness, feeling confused. The weight of transition, the strain of difficult months, the fear of being seen. Could I really be a fully embodied plant witch and someone who works in government and public service?
Could I hold space as a mother, a lover, a friend?
Could I navigate the changing times we are in with strength and grace?
In these moments of doubt, I’ve learned that darkness is not the enemy. It is a teacher. Every time it arrives, it calls me back to love. It reminds me that I am not separate from love. That I am, at my core, good. That nothing can sever me from this unconditional, always-good-enough love.
In my past, for many years, I believed the story that I had let "them" down, that I was not good enough for—my parents, my mentors, my ancestors. As I started to truly heal, when I finally stopped and asked myself, who is this ‘them’ I am so consumed by? I saw the truth. It was me. My own ego, spinning stories of separation, drowning out the stillness of my soul. My greatest darkness was of my own making. My soul was calling me to return to love, and my ego was keeping me lost in thoughts, in fear, in the illusion of failure. So I made a choice to make friends with my ego and I started to learn.
The greatest shift I have made in the 40 years I have been gifted is choosing to meet my thoughts with love, to rewrite my inner dialogue with self-compassion and forgiveness. To question my own beliefs about freedom, sovereignty, healing, separation, and what is the purpose of this life. This practice has brought me into balance, aligning me with the deep knowing that I am held, always.
What has anchored me in this transformation is ritual. The sacred bookends of my day—morning and evening rituals—have become the places where I return to my center, again and again.
Each morning, I begin in stillness. A cup of cacao or tea in my hands. Breathwork to awaken my body. Meditation and journaling to clear the fog of my mind. This is where I set my intentions, where I remind myself that my pace is my own, that my presence is enough.
Each evening, I slow down. I connect with water through a bath, the last month I have been sitting with the lake. A moment of reflection, gratitude. A letting go of whatever I have carried that does not belong to me.
In these small yet profound rituals, I remember:
I belong to the earth.
I belong to myself.
I belong to love.
Before I go back to Colorado, one last adventure —exploring Mexico City to celebrate my birthday with friends. And as I return home, I step forward with more clarity, more softness, more trust.
In late March, I will be opening new spaces—limited one-on-one offerings and workshops—for those who feel called to deepen their relationship with plants, healing, and self. My work is shifting, expanding, and refining. And as I leave social media behind, I invite you to stay connected here, where I will continue to share from a place of depth and authenticity.
If you are feeling called to create a slower, more intentional rhythm in your own life, I invite you to begin with one small shift. Maybe it’s one less cup of coffee, replaced with an herbal tea. Maybe it’s five minutes of stillness in the morning. Maybe it’s speaking to yourself with more kindness. These are the threads that weave us back into wholeness.
Thank you for being here, for walking this path with me. More soon, from this ever-unfolding journey.
With love,
Sadie
