To reach true understanding and depth in English, not all can articulate in the way Spanish can, in one simple, word.

I use this example often with my students. It is an invitation to think beyond the words; “sad”, “angry”, etc. to first begin to understand their own emotions and then to one day help others translate their own internal speak.

Often in English, we are taught that “GRIEF” is death or heartbreak. Another one of my favorite ways to expand our capacities of word and thought.

Grief is not linear. Grief is a big messy sandwich that stacks upon layers and layers of confusion and eventually clarity to realize, “I’m grieving and I didn’t even know that’s what was happening.”

Often times, because we are all individuals and ALL have our own experiences, we don’t even realize it is what our body is trying to process or it is a part of what we are processing. We play it off “oh, I’m stressed”, “I’m busy because I’m moving, just tired”, “oh he passed such a long time ago, I can’t be sad”.

And while those statements can be true, we can also take them deeper and see where a part of the process will be linked up with grief. Take for example a move. Yes, perhaps it is a “good” move, a positive experience. And with that, we can ask, is one grieving the old house, neighborhood? Leaving friends, a job? Things that are familiar? We add to that as well, that something like a move, even a good one, causes the nervous system to respond as though it is a trauma. The nervous system doesn’t differentiate that is is good or bad, just that things have changed and it needs to feel safe again.

I don’t think that we often have a desire to dig up grief and yet it is so very important. Grief WANTS to be heard, held, and well processed so that our bodies can feel better. Our mindset shifts, emotions lift, we feel lighter and more aligned in our experience.

There are times we need help to get there. Other perspectives and information, ones in an office, or those well seasoned with life experience, whomever calls to you. which is why I felt called to write today. And a reminder that a lot of this is already within you. Start asking yourself questions. Start deeper than sad or angry.

Is it pena? Angustia? or Tristesa?

That’ll get you started. And make sure you have with you, what can hold you dear as you begin the sacred practice of grief work. There will be a time, your freedom within will deeply thank you

I didn’t run from the words, hearing the pain experienced by another, caused by me. Intentionally or not, whether I agreed or not.

I listened. I held my tongue in rebuttal (though not perfectly). I sat. I held space. In anger. In discomfort. In trust. Trust of myself that this is where I was meant to be, in order to grow, to not repeat the same cycles. To create freedom.

To be clear, this person is not a dangerous person, I didn’t fear for my physical safety.

And he had been a dangerous person, his words dipped in poison, causing me to shut down. Harden. I didn’t have the words to explain. I do now. Backing out and down into my own walls of safety.

We agreed to create a healing space, to revisit pain and work with the common goal of not being stuck in the pain of past. This isn’t possible for everyone, that I know and I hold the utmost gratitude and reverence that we were able to.

And it was hard.

I came in anger and defense. Also wanting healing.

I wanted to blame. To make sure EVERY SINGLE WAY I was hurt, was acknowledged and accounted for.

That wasn’t as helpful as I thought it would be. It didn’t fill me up. Satisfy my ego. It was a lot of.... talking for nothing.

Though, not for nothing. Because after a long space of sitting, when wanting to run, the breakthroughs started to happen. Ownership on BOTH sides, felt safe enough to emerge. Understanding following. Tears falling. Stepping away with direct communication “hey, I’m just going to walk to help process this, I will be back”

A softness within began to flow within. Not solving everything but allowing space for that as it will emerge.

I’m going to need time for myself to recalibrate. I am breaking a cycle within. The cycle of protecting myself to the depth that shuts out opportunity.

Space to quiet the anxious “but what does this mean exactly? Look like exactly?” Change has to have space to show up, it takes time.

But there is space

To just be proud.

Of me

Of him

Of the hard

Of the brave

I wanted to share something from a personal experience. I nerded out big time with this realization and I share it with hopes of stirring up some thought or inviting in a perspective for you my dear reader.

I have been experiencing low back pain. Pretty intense pain, actually. By end of day, sometimes it hurts to remain seated too long.

I chalked it up to lots of things... longer days in office/class, moving/packing, etc.

And I actually have been doing things about it, stretching and gentle movement so I’m not stagnate the whole, long day... things for inflammation, herbs/minerals for joint support, chiropractic care, etc. and it all helped. But wasn’t IT 100%.

Now I am well aware I am pushing my limits on many levels right now with preparing for a move, closing out my physical office and home, seeing clients, while also coupled with schooling for an herbal clinician certification but I knew there was something I was missing.

Bring us to today, where I am sitting in an herbal class. And I am absorbed deeply into class (hence the “nerding out” as I call it). We were discussing over active nervous systems. And it hit me!

Yes, my low back muscles/joints needed help, as to why the remedies helped on some levels

AND

My nervous system, because of my busy busy time of life right now, has not been able to fully rest/reset. It has needed a chance to pop back to neutral, an ideal space for a healthy nervous system. We all need the space to truly reset. It’s beyond a nice bath and a walk, it is very deep. It’s holistic, its science, it’s all the things.

It became very clear to me, I needed an herb to calm my nervous system even deeper than I had been doing with my usual reset. It needed a TRUE chance to reset.

There are a couple levels to calm. Calm can be “relaxing” or “take it down a notch”, like with Lavender, an often sought after, aromatic herb. Results with Lavender are quick and soothing, a person can feel a release in tension or anxiety. And that is wonderful but not what I am after. What I was looking for is deeper than calm. It needed to be a nervous system reset.

I’ve found myself to be grounded and doing a lot of self work to stay healthy during this big move. Yet, I was unintentionally neglecting the fact that even while I’m sitting or sleeping, my nervous system was still working at massive output.

When our nervous system doesn’t get a chance to reset, what we would describe as coming to a more neutral state, we operate out of fight, flight, freeze, pain, anxiety, you name it. With these states prolonged, that eventually becomes our normal. However, when given the chance to start from neutral, we respond to our stressors from the space of neutrality (a fresh view, perhaps), not, in my case, from a pain space.

When class was done, armed with information about a new ally, I ran to buy some Passion Flower (passiflora incarnata), the star of the class. This beautiful nervine plant has many uses, one being to help create a deep nervous system reset, a chance to hit neutral.

As I do with all plant medicines I bring in to support my wellness, I speak to it. I thank the plant for showing up to support my health and I explain it’s intention, why I am calling upon it, in this time.

To dear Passion Flower, I spoke to it it’s intention.... to approach pain relief by calming my nervous system.

Let’s see what happens

https://casaapapacha-studiokanta.com

I am proud to hold that space.

In the hard. In the loud. In the quiet.

Once upon a time, and for some cultured medicines and community, it still exists. The sacred place of being with another as they make their exit from this physical world, into the next.

So what, exactly, is a death doula?

Simply, one who provides support to the dying and/or their family.

There are many ways and forms one shows up in this capacity. I will take you through a few different ways that I have walked through, to give you a broad scope of this work, what I have experienced and can speak to. There are many, many ways to show up for the dying.

Sometimes, it is not about the individual who is passing, rather the family needing help. I am called (usually for me, this work is word of mouth) and asked how I can assist a family who is losing a loved one. At times, it is about help filing out paperwork. That is not for me. I am here for the raw humanity of death. Tell me how your heart hurts, how you are angry they are leaving, how you are in shock. I will visit with the family, and with the knowledge that comes from doing this for a very long time, I am able to gauge how best I can be of service. I learned with medicine people, how to be a silent observer. How to hold space, quiet or with ceremony.

And sometimes the work comes way before the actual transition, for me it is often when they get the call they are terminal. Together we work, helping calm fears; through talking, therapeutic modalities, find comfort measures, answer questions, give suggestions to ask the doctors or hospice care. Perhaps I hold their hand while they call loved ones and say goodbye, or help plan their celebration of life.

If they want me there, in the final hours, I am there. At bedside. Being an advocate for them and their care, a voice during a difficult time, a voice of knowledge, one with their best interest in mind. A balance in a room of many, many hard emotions.

More than I can count, I find the ones I am standing with, needing permission to go. A voice to say “when you are ready, you are free to go”. It is not dictating when they should/shouldn’t. It is simply reminding them, they have choice to let go. And often when I witness great suffering, I remind the family, to tell the loved one they may go, to hopefully ease the suffering, not to wait around any longer than is necessary.

I am often asked, HOW can I be there, often phrased “how can you be there when someone is dying?” It is not at all about being there BECAUSE they are dying. I am there because I have the capacity to help someone and their families navigate an unfamiliar and difficult time. I have capacity to show up and help direct things so that maybe, within all of those difficulties and unknowing, the transition is eased in some sort of way.

In those spaces, it is not about ME at all. It is about holding space for another. I can have my emotions, my hard, in another space. Not there. I am not a robot, I may have tears along with someone but I also keep flow. Peace. They are looking to me for help. Within that, I cannot waiver.

I want to show up in the inevitable, not afraid of it. I want to help others navigate all the aspects that the end can have and not tip-toe, not be afraid of the big feelings but rather, have some guidance on what to do with them, where to put them and if we can, make those final moments, that much more peaceful. And if the final moment has already passed, how can we bring healing to that?

I show up for all different spaces of loss. I have stepped in countless times when someone is putting down a beloved pet and needs the reassurance that they, indeed are making the right choice for their furry love. I have been with the elderly, a space where it is strangely “expected” that one will die, and yet the surprise of intensity of grief never fails. We all experience it differently. I have been called to support a mother who knew her sweet babe would be born without breath. I held him. I held her. I support women who have lost their babies early term, women who choose for the babies to not be born, whatever their reasoning. I have been called to places where one’s life was stolen from them, to ones who took their own.

Each and every time. It looks different. It looks similar.

So I bring in ceremony. Always a form of ceremony. If a family wants to pray, we pray. If I am left to my own devices, I bring in the sacred, soft scent of copal, a light smoke, clearing emotions and heavy things out of the way, so that the dying may feel ease, less fear. Lights are dim, if any. After all we came out of the dark into the light when we began this journey. Candles, quiet. Breaks of laughter. For the sweet boy, a gentle wash of rose water and prayer before his tiny body was taken away. For an elderly client, she gave me her journals to burn, with the reassurance no one needed her lifetime of inner-most thoughts. For the ones who take their own life, a circle, a gathering, sharing the stories, preserving their memory.

I may mail letters out, on request of the deceased, so all her loved ones get one last word from her. Or tell a wife how much her husband loved her. I will attend services, hold hands graveside. Meet the family, hug the family, and often see them in office, helping them process the complicated emotions that come with the end of someone.

There are times where the work comes AFTER the one has died. A ceremony honoring them, a meditation to check in and see if their soul has moved on to their next phase or if they are stuck between spaces, needing assistance to continue on. Singing songs to help push the spirit away from the life they just finished, on to the next. A more spiritually based celebration of life or a cleansing of the physical space where they passed.

Each and every time. It looks different. It looks similar.

I am a death doula.

I am proud to hold that space

.Photography by Danica Donnelly Photography, used with permission

In my work today, I supposed we could call it the “modern” Curandera (teachings of Mexico, parts of Central America, and the southwest US) or medicine work. The space where we bring old teachings of healing and ceremony over the internet and its many platforms, in order to keep this medicine and human connection alive.

I was EXTREMELY resistant at first. Hating the disconnect we already are suffering from as humans. I would rather be in the dirt, around a fire, with those who felt called to the offering of a Full Moon ceremony. And I was cranky and pouted. Wanting my interactions with others to be in our humanity. Face to face. Tear to tear, hug for hug. It was how I had learned and wanted to share with others, in the same fashion.

And it is not about the “ME” or the “I” of it. There is a way to show up in our authentic self AND remember, its about the medicine. It is about the medicine and the people needing the space held. The clearing. Teaching the art of working with the Moon.

I checked my Ego. I remembered the way the moon feels when I work with her. I remembered I am a conduit, a holder of space and ceremony.

For almost a year now, I offer a Full Moon Limpia (clearing), sending invitation via all the platforms for individuals to take part, no matter where they may be. Not only is this a powerful time, with a wonderful ally, but it is an easy marker in the written calendar time. Every month it is something that happens. That can be marked down, a reminder set, or noticed by her vastness in the sky.

On the night of her fullest phase, I bring out my favorite tools and set up my altar, in the silvery waves of moonlight. Traditionally, in a limpia, we rub the body of the individual with eggs or limes. These items absorb the dark/heavy/doesn’t belong to you energy and the smoke clears it away from the body, helping the body, mind, and Spirit come back to a neutral state. In lieu of actual physical participants, I write out the names of those wishing to partake in the ceremony, and place on the altar, along with their intentions, or simply their names, if they just want a clearing.

I connect with each individual, each name, each intention, each prayer. A call for help, a grief, an asking. Sometimes I am called to pull a card for deeper clarity to ones message. At times I drum, imagining the pain being moved, through and away from an individual. I follow what I am called to do, I imagine all seated around, as though we are together in the flesh.

And being together in Spirit, is just as strong, just as impactful. Quite often I get messages stating that one “slept deeply”, “felt heaviness lift”, after the ceremony, usually the next day.

After ceremony, I write out messages received, either as a collective or for those who had specific intentions, messages received for clarity or guidance.

Ceremony, traditionally is not filmed, though I send out a picture of the smoke and the altar to all of my participants.

I’m often asked if one needs to be still at the time of the ceremony. The short answer is, no, you don’t have to. However, this is the point. The point of these limpias is to have stillness, to check in with yourself. Connect to nature and the rhythm of our humanity. To identify if there is something you need help letting go of, or perhaps just a maintenance of clearing your energy body. A break from the busy, loud world we are in.

And I’m also a realist. Sometimes we don’t have the time to be still, yet the intention of being a part of a healing ceremony is a beautiful way of saying yes to yourself, amongst the noise, it will still work.

Thank you, to my teachers and medicine people who taught me in this tradition. Who taught me how to connect with the Moon in her vastness

May you all be blessed. May you all be well

If you find yourself wanting to join a Full Moon Limpia, the next one is Feb 1st, 2026

Please connect via website: https://casaapapacha-studiokanta.com/full-moon-limpia/ or email studiokanta3@gmail.com, Instagram @casaapapacha

I call it nerding out.

I love to learn and I love to share it with others. Right now, deeply working with nervous system responses, chronic illness, and working to achieve my Clinical Herbalist certificate.

Since I was young, I FELT within my being that there was so much more to this life. So much to explore, to try, and that what we were stuck doing, wasn’t all we were meant for.

It was quite frustrating having this knowing and being stuck in a young self body, where you were told “no” or “that’s not possible” or maybe “not right now”.

I remember looking at the mountains and just wanting to “walk on up there”

And I digress.

I’m writing this morning, to actually reframe my own thinking. I have huge dreams coming and because they are not on my timing at all, it seems, I feel stuck in an odd limbo. It’s making me feel.... disgruntled. Or perhaps like that wee self who was told “no” or “not yet”

So this morning, I asked my self “what makes you passionate” and my answer is this...”sharing what I have experienced and learned so that others may see that they don’t have to remain with their trauma”

This could look so many ways.... the science of the nervous system experiencing trauma. The plant allies we have. Somatic unwinding. CranioSacral therapies. Energy work. Shamanic work. Ceremony. Movement through dance/yoga. Art of all kinds.

There is something for everyone. There are things that can help for a season and then it is time to find something else. Sometimes it is as simple as someone explaining to you, how/why our body has responded the way it has.

And as we heal, we need to be reminded to celebrate, no matter how “big” or “small” it may seem. To be reminded that trauma effects us mind, body, and spirit, deeper than we realize. It takes time to heal. And yet, the healing is so much faster than the length of time the trauma has been within.

Repeat that. The healing is so much faster than the length of time the trauma has been within.

So as I write to you all this morning, I am able to breathe deeper. To shift my internal dialogue. To remember during this wait, I continue to learn more, heal more, and my passion comes reignited once again.

Blessings my friends. Still here and happy to join you on your journey