09/21/2025
Between Poetry & Practice: Leading with Heart in the Healing Arts
I love listening to people talk about the healing arts. It all sounds so delicious, so juicy. It evokes feelings that bubble up—like the most sparkling, effervescent, and provocative champagne dreams—pulling me in, tempting me to click the source and discover how I might journey to the heights of perfect wellbeing and health:
Awaken the Goddess Within
Beneath your skin, ancient power stirs. She is the wild moonlight, the whisper in your blood, the goddess who knows your name. Close your eyes, breathe deep, and let her rise. Trust her wisdom, her fire, and her gentle strength — you are the vessel for her magic.
Alchemize Old Wounds, Set Your Spirit Free
Trauma is not your destiny; it is the shadow you transmute into light. Sit with the ache and let your soul’s alchemy begin. Through ritual, tears, or sacred silence, invite release. Every scar becomes a talisman. You are reborn with every breath.
Follow the Threads to Your Ancestors & Guides
The veil is thin, beloved. Your ancestors sing in your dreams, and your spirit guides send whispers on the wind. Light incense, draw a tarot card, or simply listen to the silence — their messages are woven through your days. You are guided, guarded, and never alone.
Enchant Your Nervous System with Sacred Calm
When chaos swirls, become the still point. Let sacred breath fill you, let grounding rituals root you. Place a hand over your heart, chant your own name, and call peace into your cells. Your nervous system is a temple — honor it with tenderness and grace.
Seek Crystal Clarity in Meditation’s Embrace
In the quiet, revelations await. Enter meditation like stepping through a portal — let your thoughts drift like clouds and find yourself in the infinite. Here, in the hush, your higher self speaks. Let clarity wash over you like moonlight on water.
Transmute Pain Through Sacred Movement
Your body is a spell in motion. Let every sway, every stretch, every wild dance become a ritual of release. Move as your ancestors did, letting energy and pain unravel into freedom. In movement, you return to your primal self — whole, radiant, and unbound.
It all sounds so yummy!
Have you attended a gathering or session like this? I know we lightworkers like to talk about sacred ceremony and ritual when we market our craft. And yes, there’s a mystical and spiritual side to it—that’s true. But sometimes, we get a bit too lyrical. We talk about serving delicious golden ambrosia, the nectar of the gods, but what’s on the table is usually just a mixture of oranges, walnuts, honey, and coconut. And that’s good! My point is even if it’s magical, it’s still practical. So why don’t we talk about it that way? When did we start waxing poetic to the point it’s hard to tell exactly what it is we’re offering? And when did it become a guarantee?
When someone asks me what I do for a living, I get so flustered now. Strategists would have me say something flowery to tempt a prospective client into my “niche market,” but it’s gotten so out of hand that everything just gets lost in translation. I might say, “I work with the body’s interoceptive and proprioceptive systems to help you find balance and alleviate pain and suffering.” And you’d just stare at me and go, “HUH?” “I help you build flexibility and strength of mind and body.” That’s a little better, but…
Honestly, there’s no way anyone would have the slightest idea what I do for a living with an answer like that. But that’s because I didn’t say anything clearly or directly. I’ve been listening to too many marketing strategists whispering sweet nothings in my ear, telling me to become a snake charmer. It doesn’t feel right—at all. Or maybe I’m just doing it wrong. Who knows? I’m a practitioner; I didn’t go to business school. If I had it my way, I’d smile and reply, “I teach yoga and facilitate therapeutic stretching,” because that’s what I do. “I’m a Personal Growth Coach, too.” But that role is a bit more ambiguous, isn’t it?
The conversation that really matters though isn’t about what we do but what we do for others. Too often, we get lost in abstract talk and marketing strategies and forget to stay grounded. We lose sight of the reason we got into this work in the first place: to heal.
This is where we need to keep our focus and remain grounded in our purpose. If we remember why we chose this path, we’ll naturally speak to the needs of the people we serve. We’ll let the light of our work shine through our actions and our presence, not just our words.
We don’t have to sound like we’ve just returned from a month-long ayahuasca retreat, communing with forest elders and dancing among the stars. Please don’t misunderstand—I’ve gone on plant medicine journeys. I’ve lived inside a raindrop, watched painted ladies float across the sky, and felt what it’s like to dissolve into someone else. I know what it’s like to let the ego die, to feel Oneness with the Universe, and then come back to myself, carrying those cosmic lessons back to earth.
But sometimes we get stuck in Spirit and forget to come back to Ground. “Keep your head where your feet are,” a wise woman once told me.
In certain traditions, like yoga, the heart is the halfway point, energetically speaking, so let’s lead from there. That makes the most sense to me; it just feels right.
Right now, there’s a huge appetite for gurus. Clients come to us looking for answers, for someone who can light the path and tell them what’s possible. That’s a powerful position to be in, and it’s tempting to lean into it. But lately, I worry we’re taking it too far. The language gets more mystical, the promises get bigger, and before we know it, we’re selling certainty when what clients really need is honesty.
It’s easy to think of leadership as something that’s all brain — strategy, logic, control. But if you’re only leading from the head, you’re missing half the story. The heart is the place where courage lives. It’s where empathy, vulnerability, and real connection happen. And I think we’re finally realizing it’s fundamental to have. Courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s acting in the face of fear.
When we lead from the heart, we let ourselves be seen — messy, imperfect, still learning. We ask questions instead of pretending we have all the answers. We show up for the hard conversations, even when our voice shakes. And we listen, really listen, to the people around us. That’s what builds trust. When people feel seen and valued, they’re willing to take risks, to innovate, to stick with you through challenges.
Leading with your whole heart means you’re willing to get it wrong sometimes. You’re willing to admit mistakes, to change your mind, to say, “I don’t know, but I’m here for it.” That’s not weakness — it’s strength.
If the heart is the halfway point, it’s because it’s the bridge — between what we think and what we do, between us and the people we’re serving and guiding. The best leaders don’t just manage outcomes; they set the tone for belonging. They make it safe to be human.
We’re not here to be untouchable sages. We’re here to be partners. That’s what actually moves things forward. It’s okay to share what we’ve learned, to offer guidance, even to inspire. But let’s not lose our grip on reality. Let’s be willing to say, “I’m not sure,” or “This part is tough for me too,” or even, “We will figure this out together.”
Our clients deserve more than charisma and mystique. What really matters is someone who’s willing to show up, stay grounded, and keep it real. That’s how trust is built. That’s how real change happens—not in the guru’s spotlight, but in those ordinary, sometimes awkward, always honest moments where people connect and do the work together.
So let’s lead from the heart. Let’s make room for courage, for compassion, and for the beautiful mess. Because that’s where the breakthroughs live—not in perfection, but in presence.
And yes, we hear the sacred songs, we feel the pull of ancient ways, and there’s a real honor in carrying those traditions forward. By all means, let’s bring in the wisdom of the elders, the rituals, the poetry, the reverence. But let’s also plant our feet firmly on the ground, remembering that being real, being raw, and being here with each other is the point. We’re not just here to heal ourselves—we’re here to share that gift, to walk alongside others as guides, not as distant sages.
So remember where you are and why you’re here. Or don’t—sometimes a little mystery keeps things interesting. After all, what’s life without a little poetry?
