January 2025 Retreat Reflections
Just over an hour and a half bus ride from Mexico City lies a small, enchanting town nestled in the mountains—Tepoztlán, a place the locals call a Pueblo Mágico. Known as a sacred site of pilgrimage for thousands of years and believed to be the birthplace of the feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl, the valley of Tepoztlán holds a timeless energy. According to legend, it was here in Amatlán de Quetzalcóatl where the god underwent his own inner transformation, beginning his sacred journey to fully realize his divine purpose.
This place has been protected by time and spirit—a portal for those ready to remember who they are.
Our retreat took place at a stunning sanctuary called Hostal de la Luz. The moment I arrived, I could feel the sacredness—it was palpable. You could see it in the gardens, in the layout of the land, and feel it in your bones. Everything was aligned with spiritual intention: the grounds featured an obelisk honoring Hathor, a pyramid, and a labyrinth that invited quiet contemplation. The hotel itself was a work of reverence, its design and décor deeply inspired by Hindu deities and sacred symbology. I’ll be sharing pictures on my blog to show the beauty of the gardens and spaces that held us so gently.
I arrived here in January 2025 to attend my first retreat since Egypt 2023. Nervous on the inside, stoic on the outside, I made small talk with familiar faces from Camp Indie. But beneath the surface, I was bracing myself. Thirty-four of us gathered in the sharing circle on day one. The retreat facilitator asked us to share briefly using prompts to help facilitate a large group and allow everyone space to be shared and heard.
“On a scale of 1 to 10 how do you feel?, I was number five in terms of how present I felt on the first day.”
Another prompt: “If you really knew me…” I answered, “If you really knew me,you’d know that my love language is Acts of Service, but I need to do more acts of service toward myself.”
And then came the deeper truth prompt: “If you really really knew me…” I said, “If you really, really knew me, you’d know that I am a Contractor on this Earth and still figuring things out. I was groomed sexually for many years since childhood. I was violated by my biological father. I find it easy to forgive my perpetrators, but not myself.”
I shared that without crying. It was raw, honest, and the only thing that kept surfacing. So I surrendered to it. That evening, I had dinner with two participants. Then I returned to my hotel room to read, journal, and be still.
January 27, 2025 – Beginning the Retreat
I woke at 6 a.m. to greet the sunrise and the mountains. The sacred geometry of the landscape held me in silence. I snapped a few pictures. At 8 a.m., I joined the yoga session. The teacher played a string instrument and began singing. I felt the sound of healing wash over me—I cried, just a little. It was exactly what I needed to prepare for the day.
During our retreat circle, I shared: “At this retreat, I want to remember who I am to the highest level. Know my power and use it for helping humanity.”
Later we did an inner/outer circle exercise—standing face-to-face, eye-to-eye. The tension in my shoulders was immense, during our brief breaks, I stepped outside and grounded myself barefoot in an aloe vera garden. Bees floated from bloom to bloom. A woman told me I looked beautiful and offered to take my picture. Just then, a shimmery blue-green hummingbird flew within a foot of me—a good omen, I believe. I caught it on video.
January 28, 2025 – My First Temezcal
That evening, I entered the Temazcal—a traditional Mesoamerican sweat lodge. It was the most difficult, transformative experience of my life.
After entering the Temazcal the Chief’s wife and two women facilitators who held space began talking and lecturing on the wisdom of our ancestors, seven generations and imparted wisdom. Then they began chanting and drumming a sacred drum while we all repeated the chants in unison with strength. The Temazcal was crowded, but we were invited to lay down if needed. I took that opportunity, and while lying down, I began to channel and chant—a beautiful, feminine voice came through. It was transcendent.
When I sat back up and became more aware, I felt something shift—a massive energy surged through me. I felt symptoms coming on: I started burping profusely, which I recognized as a sign of purging from the last retreat in Egypt. Then I began spitting—my body insisted on clearing itself.
Then something surged forward. The chief’s wife saw it on my face and called it out of me, all I felt echoing in my head was “I felt like my ego was dying.”
I screamed twice—long, loud, guttural. I spoke in tongues at first I think, a language I’ve never known. Then it transitioned, I sang in what felt like Native American tones. At that point the Chief came in with a feather and smoke and began working on me. He focused on my throat and my crown. The smoke nearly choked me, but he expelled whatever needed to leave. I cried hysterically. The women sang louder to support the release.
All the women were strong, holding space for each other. I felt so deeply supported. Inside, I began chanting and singing with the group after he dispelled whatever that was and they pivoted to shorten the Temazcal session.
When we departed the Temazcal I remember kissing the dirt floor as I exited giving thanks afterward, I was disoriented—loopy. I grounded with fruit, water, tea, and pouring cold water on me, we all did. I went home that night with many questions. At the second Temazcal that week I was able to sit with the chief and his wife to ask for clarity.
January 29, 2025 Morning Reflections
That week, each morning, I climbed to the hotel terrace to greet the stars and mountains. I was greeted by windy mornings. Every day, a bumblebee came to visit before sunrise. That morning, I sat quietly as the bee buzzed near, listening to a light code activation video. That morning I saw three birds: a pigeon, a sparrow, and finally, a large bird like an eagle or buzzard soaring over the mountains. More omens.
Second Temazcal: A Softer Return
This second Temazcal was different. Before entering, I spoke with the chief. I had questions about what happened during the first one.
He said: “What happened was not bad. It’s just a different frequency. You need to ask your guides whether this is a gift and how to work with it. But you are in charge—you call the shots. Don’t let it control you.”
The chief told me in private“I whispered to the spirit—and it obeyed.” meaning it was obedient and nothing bad that I couldn’t control.
The chief shared with everyone that what happened at the first Temazcal was not negative—it was a mirror, a medicine, a gift. As we entered the Temazcal for the second time the chief’s wife placed me strategically beside her. Throughout the session, she held my hand and helped manage the energy. The Temezcal was definitely not as intense as the first time.
Once again, I burped throughout purging and making a throwing up sounds. When the energy tried to come through again, she sprayed me with lavender, sacred water, Florida water—everything she had.
I sang with them, and it felt joyful and freeing. But at one point, the conduit came again—I cried, chanted, made blubbering noises, and sang Native American tones. The women held the space beautifully.
Afterward, the chief and his wife gave me guidance. She asked when this all started. I told her, Egypt, 2023. That’s when the chanting began, check out my blog on the activation I received there.
She advised me to use affirmations, cleansing baths, and stay conscious of my media and music intake. To develop a stronger relationship with my guides and community. Her wisdom was grounded and sacred.
January 31, 2025 – Closing the Retreat and Integration
On the final night and closing day of the retreat, I chose not to attend the fire ceremony or final sharing circle. I felt participant fatigue and realized I needed space to integrate everything I had experienced—to honor myself through solitude, stillness, and reflection.
Yet every morning of the retreat, without fail, I woke before sunrise and walked to the terrace to watch the stars slowly fade behind the mountains. Almost every morning, I was greeted by the soft buzzing of a bumblebee, as if nature itself was gently reminding me to stay present.
Throughout the retreat, especially during breathwork and ceremonial spaces, I found myself singing, chanting, and expressing emotions in ways I did not fully understand at the time. Several people told me my voice felt healing, melodious, and sacred. At the time, I struggled to fully receive those words—but as I continue reflecting on this experience, I’m beginning to see glimpses of what they may have meant.
Tepoztlán did not give me all the answers. Instead, it invited me deeper into remembrance, self-inquiry, and trust in my own unfolding journey.