Returning to Love: A Pathway Back to God and Self

Returning to Love: A Pathway Back to God and Self

by | Jul 2, 2025 | Inspiring Growth

Returning to Love: A Pathway Back to God and Self

This quiet drifting away from love, from truth, from God, happens to many of us. Whether through heartbreak, hardship, betrayal, or the gradual wear of life’s disappointments, we can find ourselves walking at a distance from the very essence that which makes us feel most alive.

But, the path back is always available.

It is paved not with overcoming or even resolving—but with remembrance, humility, forgiveness, and the simple yet radical act of choosing love again.

Love as a Return to God

When I speak of love, I don’t mean sentiment or fleeting emotional warmth. I mean capital-L Love—the force that created everything and holds everything together. To return to Love is to return to God. And to return to God is to return to your own essence. There is no separation between these.

Love is the thread that runs through our very being. It is not outside of us. It is of us. And yet, somewhere along the way, something gets in the way.

What I’ve noticed—both in my own journey and in the lives of those I work with—is that it’s often the experiences of pain, disillusionment, or unhealed beliefs that build walls between us and the divine. We may not know it at the time, but we begin to withhold. We protect. We retreat.

Sometimes that wall is built from grief. Other times, it’s constructed out of subtle, long-standing resentment—maybe even toward God. We might not want to admit it, but somewhere deep down we can feel angry, abandoned, or betrayed by Life. And so we pull away. We try to reclaim autonomy. And in doing so, we unknowingly block the very thing we’re longing for: union.

The Invitation to Want Again

There comes a moment—and it can be a quiet one—where something inside us says, “Enough already.”
It’s not always dramatic. It might not come with a lightning bolt of clarity. But it carries a depth that’s unmistakable.

It’s the moment we want to want again.
Not just to function, or to manage, or to feel a little bit better—but to reconnect with the Source of Love itself.

This moment of willingness is powerful. It is a sacred turning point. And it sets everything in motion.

What follows may look like a breakdown or a breakthrough. It may come with tears, release, resistance, or surrender. But underneath it all is a softening—a dissolving of barriers, a choice to stop holding ourselves apart.

And when we choose—even in our trembling, even in our uncertainty—to return to Love, we are met. Every time.

Forgiveness, Surrender, and the Radiance of Grace

Returning to Love requires that we release the barriers we once believed we needed. It asks us to forgive—not only others, but ourselves. It asks us to let go of our pride, our need to be right, our grasping for control. It invites us to surrender to what has always been true: Love has never left us. We are the ones who turned away.

That realization is not meant to shame. It is meant to empower.

Because if we are the ones who built the barrier, we are also the ones who can dismantle it. Love is not something we need to earn. God is not waiting to punish us. Spirit has been here all along, patient, present, and infinitely kind.

The grace that flows from this realization is like nothing else. It fills the heart, realigns the soul, and restores a kind of trust that can’t be taught—only remembered.

Coming Home to Yourself

As we return to Love, we don’t just reconnect with God—we also reconnect with our own wholeness.
We remember who we are beyond the roles, beyond the wounds, beyond the striving.

We remember that we are the children of God. That we are made of the same Light we once searched for outside ourselves. And from this place of remembering, we live differently.

We become more anchored. More graceful. More able to hold others in compassion because we are no longer striving to fill the empty places inside.

We begin to embody love. Not perform it. Not earn it. But be it.

Let This Be Your Moment

If you find yourself feeling disconnected, hardened, or weary—let this be your moment to return.
Let yourself want again. Let yourself feel again. Let yourself believe, even slightly, that Love is here.

You do not need to know exactly how to come home. You just need to choose it.
The path will reveal itself as you walk.

And if all you can say today is, “I want to want to return to Love,” that is more than enough.
Love will meet you there.

On Vulnerability and Humility

On Vulnerability and Humility

by | Jun 9, 2025 | Dr. Heléna Kate's Blog, Self Awareness

On Vulnerability and Humility

About a year after stepping more deeply into my spiritual path, a series of events shifted everything I thought I knew. They pushed me into an entirely different understanding of what it means to grow spiritually. I came to see that integrity is the most important companion on this journey—and that vulnerability is the foundation on which integrity stands.

To be vulnerable is to offer your unguarded heart and truth without the guarantee of being met in kind. It means showing up with your flaws, your uncertainty, and even your pain. It means being willing to be seen in your imperfection and still stand in your truth.


Humility is what makes vulnerability possible. It’s the inner stance that allows us to admit when we’re wrong, to acknowledge our blind spots, and to stay open even when it would be easier to protect or defend.

Walking a spiritual path with our humanity front and center ensures that we’re doing the necessary work to become a worthy vessel for the blessings we receive. Vulnerability ensures that we remain open. Humility ensures that we remain grounded.

Together, they open us to a level of spiritual teaching that would otherwise remain inaccessible.

 

It takes a strong and mature person—spiritually and psychologically—to choose vulnerability. When we do, we often invite others’ projections. People may place their own unresolved pain or expectations onto us. Some will blame us for their discomfort or hope we will carry what is theirs to heal.

To the untrained eye, vulnerability can be mistaken for weakness. But when grounded in humility, it becomes a profound act of courage.

To stay the course, we must be anchored in our sense of self and in our connection to spirit. This is what allows us to hold space for misunderstanding, to remain open-hearted in the face of judgment, and to continue offering ourselves fully—even when it’s hard.

When we show up vulnerably, we offer others the chance to do the same. And when someone accepts that invitation, something sacred becomes possible. A depth of healing and connection that cannot happen in any other way. This is where real potential takes root—for both people.

As we deepen in our spiritual practice, we’re often entrusted with insights and gifts. But without humility, it becomes dangerously easy to misinterpret our intentions. We may begin to believe that we are above reproach, that our wisdom exempts us from the hard work of self-reflection. This is the subtle beginning of the spiritualized ego.

Vulnerability brings us back to ourselves. It asks us to look inward before offering correction or counsel to others. It asks us to own our mistakes, approach with humility, and when needed—make amends. It keeps us from becoming self-righteous and, in doing so, from doing harm in the name of good.

For me, the most profound teacher of both vulnerability and humility is Jesus.

He said, “Let he among you who is innocent cast the first stone.”
He offered these words to people convinced of their moral superiority. People who had used spiritual principles to justify cruelty.

The lesson is clear: when we lose sight of our own limitations—even while claiming to do good—we become misguided.

Each day gives us a choice: to be vulnerable, or to cast the first stone.
To lead with humility, or with ego.
One path lightens our burden. The other adds to it.

The more weight we let go of, the more light we let in.

I know, in my own life, I don’t always get it right. Vulnerability doesn’t always come first. Sometimes, I wait until I’ve created a sense of safety—until I’ve been validated or felt some semblance of control. But I am learning to trust more. To surrender more quickly. And with each step, I feel lighter. My insights deepen. My connection strengthens. My clarity expands.

In the end, all we truly have is the truth of our heart.
Not how many times we were right.
Not whether we were admired or understood.

What matters is that we’ve made amends where we’ve caused harm.
That we’ve owned our limitations.
That we’ve met each moment with as much care and clarity as we could.

To do this—to live this—requires both vulnerability and humility.
Together, they shape the heart of true spiritual leadership.

Facing the Resistance: Why We Hesitate to Say Yes to Spiritual Initiation

Facing the Resistance: Why We Hesitate to Say Yes to Spiritual Initiation

by | Jun 9, 2025 | Dr. Heléna Kate's Blog, Empowered Action

Facing the Resistance: Why We Hesitate to Say Yes to Spiritual Initiation

The Quiet Resistance We Don't Talk About

When people hear about initiation—especially one tied to a spiritual lineage—they often feel a pull… and simultaneously, a push. That ambivalence is real. And if you’ve felt it, you’re not alone.

In this article, I want to explore some of the common resistances to initiation and how they can point us toward deeper truths about ourselves.

Fear of Authority, Loss of Freedom, and the Ego’s Rebellion

One of the most common reasons people resist initiation is fear—especially fear of losing autonomy or falling under the control of a hierarchy. Many of us have experienced harm at the hands of authority—family, religion, institutions—and we project that onto spiritual structures. I did too.

But here’s what I discovered: true spiritual authority doesn’t control. It liberates. A healthy lineage supports your spiritual autonomy by strengthening your alignment with truth, clarity, and your divine purpose. It challenges your ego—not your soul. And that discomfort? That friction we feel when our beliefs or assumptions are questioned? That’s actually where growth begins. Most people gravitate toward teachings that validate their ego. True teachings challenges it.

The Illusion of Novelty vs. the Power of Depth

In a world obsessed with the next new thing, tradition can seem rigid or restrictive. But real depth takes time. It takes commitment. Initiation isn’t about getting a shiny certificate or checking a box. It’s about being willing to walk a path with integrity and let that path reshape you.

There are teachings that promise everything without asking anything in return—but those often don’t lead to deep, lasting change. Initiation asks for something more of you—and gives more in return.

Initiation Is a Choice—Not a Trap

Some people fear being “locked in.” But you’re never trapped. You’re invited. You can say yes, explore, and still decide it’s not for you. Your agency is intact.

Initiation is like stepping into the first year of a university you deeply care about. It’s not kindergarten, and it’s not everything there is—but it’s a powerful, transformative beginning.

The Real Question

The real question is: are you willing to grow? Are you willing to transform—not just your circumstances, but your capacity to serve, to connect, to become?

Initiation isn’t for everyone. It’s for those who are ready to say yes to their deepest calling, even if that means facing resistance and doing the work. If that’s you, then the path is open.
To learn more about initiation: https://healingandritual.com/initiation/ or schedule a Discovery Call.

Loving and Leaving Your Inner Victim

Loving and Leaving Your Inner Victim

by | Jun 2, 2025 | Self Awareness

Loving and Leaving Your Inner Victim

What does it mean to be empowered? One of my early teachers, Alisa Starkweather, offered a definition that has stayed with me: Empowerment means knowing that you have a choice.

It’s a deceptively simple truth. But in practice, it’s revolutionary.

To be at choice is to reclaim our authorship. It means that rather than reacting automatically to the world around us, we pause, we breathe, and we choose our response. We move from unconscious patterning to conscious participation. This is the foundation of empowerment.

The Epidemic of Victimhood

We’ve all been in the grip of our inner victim at one time or another. This part of us believes that life is happening to us—that we are at the mercy of other people, external events, or inner wounds. It’s not a flaw. It’s a survival adaptation. And for many, it’s deeply familiar.

There are absolutely times in life when we are truly harmed or limited by circumstance—where choices are few or painful. But what I’m talking about here is not those moments. I’m pointing to a way of being that keeps us stuck. A habitual lens through which we see the world, where we wait for others to change before we can be free.

In this state, we say, “You are doing this to me, so I must submit—or fight.” And in doing so, we lock ourselves out of the very power that could shift the situation. The power to know that we can create the outcome that we so desire. 

The Courage to Witness Ourselves

Leaving behind the victim mindset doesn’t begin with blame or force. We don’t shame this part of ourselves into submission. In fact, that approach only deepens the wound. True healing begins with compassion.

Your inner victim, like all parts of you, holds wisdom. It reflects pain that has not yet been processed and stories that have not yet been seen through new eyes. When we meet this part with presence rather than rejection, we open the door to transformation.

Ask yourself:

  • What has this part of me been trying to protect?
  • What is it teaching me about what I need?
  • How might I honor its message while choosing a more empowered path?

Becoming the Author of Our Lives

Stepping out of victimhood doesn’t mean we bypass difficulty or pretend to be unaffected. It means we start seeing that, even in the midst of challenge, we have a say. We can choose how to interpret, how to engage, how to respond.

The practice is simple—but not always easy. First, imagine: What else is possible here? What else could be true, what other path might you take, what version of yourself could emerge?

Then: Choose. Move in the direction of what feels more whole, more loving, more true.

You may not get it perfect—and that’s not the point. Every conscious choice is a step away from powerlessness and a step toward personal sovereignty.

Empowerment as a Way of Life

Empowerment is not a fixed state; it’s a living relationship with yourself. It’s the moment-to-moment remembrance that you are not helpless. You are not broken. You are not at the mercy of the past.

You are someone who gets to choose.

And as you continue choosing—over and over again—you build the strength, clarity, and compassion to meet life as a co-creator, not a captive.

This is how we honor the victim within: not by banishing her, but by loving her enough to no longer let her lead.

 

Choice: The Sacred Foundation of All Lightwork

Choice: The Sacred Foundation of All Lightwork

by | May 2, 2025 | Dr. Heléna Kate's Blog

Choice: The Sacred Foundation of All Lightwork

In all the years I’ve spent walking the path of healing, guiding others, and deepening my own spiritual understanding, one truth continues to rise above the rest—choice is the foundation of all lightwork.

Not preference. Not passivity. Not performance.
Choice—the conscious act of aligning with the truth of who we are and what we are here to do.

To choose is to express personal power. And without personal power, there is no spiritual authority, no integrity in action, and no true healing. Lightwork that lacks choice is not lightwork—it is spiritual theater, well-meaning perhaps, but misaligned and ultimately ineffective.

Personal power, as I often say, is not power over. It is the power to be at choice—to meet life with presence and respond from the center of our being. When we live from this place—what I call “living from the core”—our actions become an authentic expression of our spiritual essence. They have impact. They ripple outward with clarity, purpose, and healing intent.

When we forget this, we may find ourselves performing our healing work rather than inhabiting it. We may slip into obligation, into fear of being misunderstood, or into ego-based “service” that seeks to control rather than support. We begin to speak from our wounding instead of our wisdom.

But light cannot be forced. Healing cannot be imposed. Growth cannot be commanded.
Each of these must be chosen.

This is why the journey of reclaiming our inner authority is so critical. Without the ability to choose from our own alignment, we are not healers—we are reactors, entangled in the very dynamics we hope to transform. In Loving and Leaving Your Inner Victim, I wrote about how we must move beyond the victim mindset—the belief that we have no say in our lives. To be empowered, we must remember that we always, always have choice. Even in the smallest, most subtle ways.

Lightwork requires us to stand in that sacred choice again and again.

And it’s not always easy. Especially for those of us who are deeply sensitive or spiritually aware, it can be tempting to adjust our truth to meet the comfort of others. To dilute what we know in order to be accepted. But when we choose to abandon ourselves in this way, we also abandon our power.

In Letting Go of Others’ Opinions, I wrote about the discipline of choosing source over story—how I had to learn to care less about why someone projected onto me, and more about my own alignment. My job is to be a vessel, not the source of transformation itself. This knowing allows me to release control and keep choosing truth over performance.
Every time we remember that we are at choice, we reclaim our light.

When I encountered the Modern Mystery School, I was deeply challenged by what it represented.

I tend to be skeptical of institutions—especially large, spiritually hierarchical, or religious ones. I have seen too many systems use dogma to disempower. I have watched too many structures claim truth while quietly denying the voice, path, or freedom of the individual.

And yet, something in me recognized a different thread here. I was met not with coercion, but with an invitation. Not with “the one way,” but with frameworks that held space for my way. Not with blind belief, but with tools that pointed me inward, again and again, toward my own sovereignty.

What has surprised me most—and continues to quietly humble me—is how thoroughly the Modern Mystery School is built on this exact principle: choice.

You do not progress unless you choose to. You are not “saved.” You are not coerced. You are invited to step forward in full responsibility, to awaken your own light, to activate your own gifts, and to decide how far you want to go. And each step—every single one—is a choice.

This is why I continue to walk this path, with discernment, yes—but also with devotion. Because I have found that, at its most authentic core, lightwork is not about who knows the most or shines the brightest. It is about who chooses to show up, with clarity, again and again, in service to something greater.

And that? That is real power.

Breaking the Spell: Plant Medicine and the Illusion of Growth

Breaking the Spell: Plant Medicine and the Illusion of Growth

by | Apr 29, 2025 | Empowered Action

Breaking the Spell: Plant Medicine and the Illusion of Growth

For most of the last decade, I dedicated myself to the study and practice of plant medicine work. For better or worse, I am not one to do things half-heartedly—once intrigued, I pursued my studies with relentless commitment. I traveled the world, sat with a variety of facilitators, shamans, madrinhos and padrinhos, educated myself through books and resources, and applied my psychological and spiritual research skills to critically assess what I was experiencing.

 It consumed my free time. It became the pivotal organizer of my life. In time, I transitioned from participant to facilitator, assisting others on their journeys.

As I was introduced to this practice, I was taught that it was a spiritual progression path in its own right—that the leaders of various traditions had reached high levels of spiritual attainment and should be revered. I was taught that ceremonial work should be done regularly, that it was a lifelong commitment, and that the only reason a person would stop ingesting medicine was due to a lack of spiritual discipline.

Being a good student—most of the time—I followed the protocol and dove in. To give a sense of the depth of this dive, many people would have lost their minds in the sheer volume of altered experiences I pursued with discipline. Yet my pursuit was not primarily about the psychedelic experience. Instead, I sought out diverse spiritual traditions that incorporated plant medicine, focusing on the ceremonial aspect. The medicine was regarded as a sacred substance that allowed for deeper communion with and manifestation of the divine. And in some ways, it does.

My initial experiences were liberating—cathartic, transcendent, and deeply educational. As I leaned further into the work, I encountered traditions that shaped my understanding of spiritual practice. I witnessed lifetimes of trauma seemingly dissolve, replaced by a deeper spiritual connection. I fell in love with certain traditions, learning their music, dance, devotional practices, and archetypal teachings.

I was serious about my study and the life I built around it. I structured my existence around devotion. I applied spiritual principles to every aspect of my life. I abstained from alcohol and other substances. I curated my environment, avoiding anything that was not explicitly spiritual or related to medicine work. I sought guidance from experienced teachers. I used every challenge as an opportunity for growth. I lived and breathed a spiritual discipline that revolved around regular ceremonial work with plant medicine.

For some, this might seem extreme, but for me, it was born of love and respect. If this was a path for spiritual advancement, then I would walk it with dedication. I both loved the ritual devotional work I practiced and excelled at it.

When I looked toward my future, I knew I would not work with plant medicines forever. I never envisioned myself facilitating at seventy. Still, I believed I would continue until I received a clear message that my time was done. I trusted that the medicine would let me know when I was no longer in service to it. What I never considered was that the medicine itself might cease to serve me.

What ultimately happened was that I came to see the entire practice in a different light. Some of this shift was influenced by current events; some by the teachings of advanced spiritual mentors who helped me see the limitations of my approach. But mostly, it was my direct experience that changed my perspective.

I have studied healing my entire adult life—one could argue my entire life. My method has always been experiential; I test things extensively on myself before I use them with others. I seek both the strengths and the limitations of any method I practice.

I share my observations now because, in the flurry of excitement surrounding plant medicine—both in its potential for healing and its lucrative appeal—the nuances are being lost. The field is rapidly expanding, but in this expansion, we are losing sight of crucial concerns. For those who are true stewards of this work, it is essential to acknowledge the obstacles ahead.

Pollution of the Field

One of the primary reasons I stopped working with plant medicine is what I call Pollution of the Field. This concept is rooted in the idea that everything has an energetic field—each location, group, and type of work carries an energetic imprint. When you engage with something, you become entangled with its field. While this has scientific corollaries, those who work with energy can sense it directly.

The problem is that as plant medicine work becomes mainstream, its field is increasingly contaminated by unhealthy, unhelpful, or outright damaging energies. One might debate when this began—was it 500 years ago or just in the last two years? Regardless, what is clear is that the issue is worsening, not improving, and all signs indicate it will continue to deteriorate.

Plant medicine work has long faced challenges, particularly in adapting shamanic traditions from one culture into another. But these issues have intensified as the field becomes flooded with self-appointed shamans, medical institutions, and individuals with little awareness of the deeper implications of what they are engaging in. The rapid commercialization, normalization, and accessibility of these substances are compromising the integrity of the practice at an alarming rate.

At first, when I noticed this degradation, I tried to counteract it through education and strong practices. I am not against non-traditional facilitators, medical psychedelic treatments, or people seeking healing. We accept pharmaceuticals, electroshock therapy, and outright denial—so why not explore tools that may actually help? There is real suffering in the world, and I support innovation that alleviates it. I advocated for rigorous training, integration practices, and informed facilitation.

Yet despite these efforts, I have seen the effectiveness of the medicine and its ceremonies deteriorate due to careless handling. Worse, I believe we are just at the beginning of a crisis stemming from this rapid uptick in energetic pollution. Historically, when spiritual tools become distorted, the wisdom within them recedes from view, leaving behind only a hollow shadow of what once was. I believe we are moving toward that fate. And because the decline will be gradual, most will not notice until the damage is irreversible.

Distorted Spiritual Development Gains

I am a firm believer that anything in life can be a tool for growth. That said, the long-term benefits of plant medicine as a spiritual development practice are not as significant as I once believed.

One of the core teachings I received was that plant medicine is a legitimate spiritual path that should be practiced regularly. However, if this were truly the case, the long-term results should reflect the time and energy invested. Instead, what I witnessed in the most devoted practitioners—those who engaged for years—was not profound spiritual evolution but rather stagnation, illusion, and in many cases, egoic inflation.

Plant medicines grant access to higher states of consciousness, but without proper training, individuals are unable to sustain or integrate these states meaningfully. This makes medicine work particularly susceptible to spiritual bypassing, materialism, and self-delusion. Any legitimate spiritual path warns against substance use for this very reason. Advanced development requires emotional stability, a well-regulated nervous system, and a disciplined mind—qualities that are often disrupted rather than cultivated by prolonged plant medicine use.

While these medicines can serve as a catalyst—offering glimpses of the transcendent and deep self-awareness—they are not an end in themselves. Repeatedly seeking transcendent experiences without the corresponding effort to develop one’s inner faculties leads to escapism. And while plant medicines are not physically addictive, the cycle of chasing enlightenment through external substances is its own form of dependency.

Health Implications

When I began practicing medicine work, I was told about its many health benefits—it was said to be non-toxic, non-addictive, and to have positive effects on brain function, organ function, and overall well-being. While some of these claims may hold truth (and some research supports them), they do not present the full picture of frequent use. Long-term engagement can result in erratic sleep patterns, nervous system overload, poor mental focus, emotional dysregulation, and psychological dependence. As I mentioned earlier, these factors significantly hinder spiritual development, as it is difficult to cultivate higher states of consciousness when the body and mind are in a state of imbalance.

Among those I observed who engaged regularly in plant medicine work, I witnessed an increasing prevalence of nervous system issues—some experiencing paranoia, delusions, or confusion. In myself, after years of deep involvement, I realized that while I had become highly attuned to my emotions, I was also at their mercy. I could feel everything, but I had lost the ability to regulate and apply my insights effectively. I also struggled to maintain a healthy weight, consistently hovering ten pounds below what was optimal for my frame. This level of depletion is not found in a person who is truly balanced and well.

As a result of my years in this work, my perception became profoundly sensitive and powerful—but I was unable to regulate or constructively channel it due to how compromised my physical state had become. Because this deterioration happened gradually, I didn’t fully grasp its extent until I stepped away. It was only in hindsight that I saw just how depleted my system had been and for how long.

Some people may be comfortable with the physical toll of their choices—whether it’s hangovers, burnout, or other consequences—but any habit that diminishes a person’s vitality will inevitably limit both personal and spiritual growth. Of course, the effects of plant medicine vary from person to person, but frequent users should be mindful of how these substances impact their overall well-being and factor that into an honest discussion about both benefits and costs.

As I examined the effects more closely, I noticed a striking pattern—every advanced practitioner in the field appeared energetically compromised. It was as if they had spent years sculpting their biceps while neglecting their calves. In the realm of medicine work, their strength was evident, yet when viewed as whole spiritual beings in energetic integrity, they were profoundly underdeveloped.

The more closely I examined my own energetic body and development, the more I recognized the limitations—and even the damage—caused by my chosen approach. While I was immersed in the work, I was blind to this reality, clinging to my deeply ingrained belief that I was engaged in something wholly positive. Since leaving, I have watched many others in the field decline, both energetically and physically, while simultaneously rationalizing or dismissing the signs of deterioration.

Health Implications

When I began practicing medicine work, I was told about its many health benefits—it was said to be non-toxic, non-addictive, and to have positive effects on brain function, organ function, and overall well-being. While some of these claims may hold truth (and some research supports them), they do not present the full picture of frequent use. Long-term engagement can result in erratic sleep patterns, nervous system overload, poor mental focus, emotional dysregulation, and psychological dependence. As I mentioned earlier, these factors significantly hinder spiritual development, as it is difficult to cultivate higher states of consciousness when the body and mind are in a state of imbalance.

Among those I observed who engaged regularly in plant medicine work, I witnessed an increasing prevalence of nervous system issues—some experiencing paranoia, delusions, or confusion. In myself, after years of deep involvement, I realized that while I had become highly attuned to my emotions, I was also at their mercy. I could feel everything, but I had lost the ability to regulate and apply my insights effectively. I also struggled to maintain a healthy weight, consistently hovering ten pounds below what was optimal for my frame. This level of depletion is not found in a person who is truly balanced and well.

As a result of my years in this work, my perception became profoundly sensitive and powerful—but I was unable to regulate or constructively channel it due to how compromised my physical state had become. Because this deterioration happened gradually, I didn’t fully grasp its extent until I stepped away. It was only in hindsight that I saw just how depleted my system had been and for how long.

Some people may be comfortable with the physical toll of their choices—whether it’s hangovers, burnout, or other consequences—but any habit that diminishes a person’s vitality will inevitably limit both personal and spiritual growth. Of course, the effects of plant medicine vary from person to person, but frequent users should be mindful of how these substances impact their overall well-being and factor that into an honest discussion about both benefits and costs.

As I examined the effects more closely, I noticed a striking pattern—every advanced practitioner in the field appeared energetically compromised. It was as if they had spent years sculpting their biceps while neglecting their calves. In the realm of medicine work, their strength was evident, yet when viewed as whole spiritual beings in energetic integrity, they were profoundly underdeveloped.

The more closely I examined my own energetic body and development, the more I recognized the limitations—and even the damage—caused by my chosen approach. While I was immersed in the work, I was blind to this reality, clinging to my deeply ingrained belief that I was engaged in something wholly positive. Since leaving, I have watched many others in the field decline, both energetically and physically, while simultaneously rationalizing or dismissing the signs of deterioration.

Closing Thoughts

As I became increasingly aware of these issues, I did my best to maintain neutrality while observing the field. I loved the work. I loved the community I had built. I saw people change and heal, and I know that good came from what we did. But I also saw that there was not enough scrutiny of the costs.

Ultimately, my decision to step away from plant medicine work was guided by three primary concerns: energetic toxicity, spiritual stagnation, and health consequences. I share this because my realizations run counter to the dominant narratives within these communities. I hope my perspective invites deeper inquiry, greater discernment, and a willingness to ask the hard questions.

As this practice rapidly expands—often with a certain naïve optimism—I believe it is essential to take a critical look. Let’s be willing to ask the hard questions. What exactly are we opening ourselves up to? If these medicines inherently lead to healing or enlightenment, wouldn’t we be much further along as a society after their resurgence in the ’60s? If set and setting are so crucial, how can we responsibly engage in this work without a deeper understanding of the broader energetic field we are stepping into? We are currently assessing the short-term benefits of one to three ceremonies for individuals struggling with mental health issues, but what are the long-term effects on those who turn to this as their primary spiritual tool?

At this point, I am clear: for the vast majority of people experimenting with plant medicines, regular and frequent use is not in their best interest. The problems within the field are being overlooked or outright dismissed—especially by the nouveau spiritual communities that have embraced these practices uncritically. I believe that those who are truly committed to spiritual advancement should be mindful of their engagement with these substances and, in most cases, limit their use.

As for me, my time with these medicines is complete. I am deeply grateful for all I have learned. I will continue to advocate for best practices and greater awareness. But unlike what I was once taught, I now see the limitations of this path and recognize that I have exhausted its benefits. Not because I stopped growing—but because I did not.

For me, my time with these medicines is complete. Not because I stopped growing as is the dogma of the field, but because I did not.

 

The Role of Initiation and Teachers on the Spiritual Path

The Role of Initiation and Teachers on the Spiritual Path

by | Apr 27, 2025 | Dr. Heléna Kate's Blog

The Role of Initiation and Teachers on the Spiritual Path

Wisdom is knowing when to seek support—not because you’re lost, but because you intend to go as far as possible.

While personal practices and private insights are powerful, there comes a time when inner work must be met with initiation, a spiritual teacher, and a living lineage. These guideposts help us move beyond our blind spots and lead us into deeper levels of spiritual growth and transformation.

Why Teachers Are Essential on a Living Spiritual Path

A true spiritual teacher is not someone who simply validates your current beliefs or strokes your spiritualized ego. A real teacher is a mirror—one that reflects both your radiance and the places within you that still need light. The right teacher will:

  • Challenge your assumptions
  • Hold you accountable to your deeper truth
  • Invite you into greater alignment
  • Walk with you, but never walk for you

If your teacher only ever praises you or makes you feel like you’re more evolved than others, you may not be growing—you may be spiritually bypassing or stagnating.

In my own journey, I’ve learned that discomfort on the path isn’t always a sign to turn away. Sometimes, what feels challenging is actually what’s most needed. There is a difference between true misalignment and the stretching that happens when we’re being invited to grow. I’ve come to respect the value of discernment—not as a way to avoid challenge, but as a way to stay rooted in what is real and resonant while still allowing myself to be called forward.

That willingness to be stretched is essential on a true path of transformation.

What Spiritual Initiation Really Offers

Spiritual initiation is a threshold—a moment when the soul agrees to walk a deeper path. This can happen through ritual, lineage-based energy work, or even life-shifting events that transform your understanding forever.

Unlike casual spirituality or trend-driven practices, initiation is not about collecting more tools or seeking the next high. It’s about choosing to walk with spiritual integrity, in relationship with a tradition and in alignment with something larger than yourself.

Initiation offers:

  • A map for spiritual territory you haven’t yet explored
  • Structure that supports your evolution
  • A lineage of wisdom to hold and guide you
  • Mirrors in the form of teachers, rituals, and community that reflect your growth

It’s not necessarily about answers—it’s about developing the capacity to stay in inquiry, to keep asking better questions, and to walk with presence even in uncertainty.

How to Recognize a Living Spiritual Path

It’s important to ask the right questions as you discern what path you’re on or whether you are actually even on one. A living spiritual path is one that deepens your presence in life—not one that leads you away from it.

Consider asking:

  • Does this path lead me deeper into embodied life—or does it disconnect me from it?
  • Do I trust this teacher to see what I cannot yet see in myself?
  • Can I witness real transformation in others who have walked this path before me?

If you can answer yes, you may be walking a living path—one that supports both expansion and integration. If not, it may be time to reassess whether you’ve unintentionally chosen a spiritual identity or a spiritual result over spiritual growth.

Initiation Is a Call to Alignment, Not Certainty

Initiation doesn’t hand you tidy answers. It brings you into sacred alignment—with your purpose, your power, and your highest knowing. The real gift is not the knowledge—it’s capacity.

You begin to trust yourself not because you know everything, but because you know how to listen.

You stop seeking quick answers, and instead develop the strength to hold complexity.
You stop striving to transcend your humanity, and begin to embody your divinity.

That is the power of walking a true spiritual path—not to escape life, but to meet it with deeper truth and more unwavering love.

A Reckoning and a Calling

A Reckoning and a Calling

by | Apr 27, 2025 | Dr. Heléna Kate's Blog

A Reckoning and a Calling

Recently, I took a plunge into one of the most materialistic and superficial cultures alive on our planet—Los Angeles. Historically, I was never drawn here. In fact, my earlier brushes with the area left me certain that it was about as far from home as home could get. Yet, in the infinite irony that has become the humorous backdrop of my life, I found myself heading that way shortly after my 40th birthday.

I came to one of the most materialistic places on earth to deepen my spiritual practice. And, in the way spirit often works, what I encountered held an essential key. I learned that my relationship to the material—most specifically, my body—was required to harness and build a home for my spiritual wisdom.

There are days in LA where it feels like the end of days—more traffic than seems possible, an unbroken sea of billboards selling everything imaginable through sex or fear, ash from nearby fires drifting from the sky, homeless people lining the sidewalks, all mixed with a level of privilege most of the world will never know. There are those who walk its streets as if behind protective glass, adorned in the jewelry of their gods—whether Rolex or Krishna.

Like many things we find ourselves doing that we thought we never would, my time in LA was both a call to my future and a reckoning with my past.

It is an ideal place to witness what serves and what obstructs spiritual development. And I’ll cut to the chase: the foundation of what is missing is ethical understanding and spiritual discipline. People have lost direct contact with spirit.

There is an abundance of spirituality for sale in SoCal. People hawk their services with varying degrees of sincerity. They change their names to something that sounds more enlightened and don the costume of tantrika, shaman, or guide—as if the exterior is enough.

Some are simply making a few bucks or pretending to be something special, and they pour out of every crack and crevice within a hundred miles of LA.

I don’t entirely argue with spiritual costuming. For some, it is a place to start. How can we grow into spiritual beings without first clawing through the layers of what keeps us from our birthright? Most of us begin misguided. But everything has something to teach us, and most things fall somewhere on a spectrum from helpful to harmful.

So how harmful is this spiritual charade?

It would be easy to write about this from a place of being above it all, but my most powerful teachings have come through what I have walked through and the scars I wear as a result. I am well-versed in the feminist politics of the body. I viscerally know the impact of Christian asceticism. I am smart enough to see ageism. I am aware of the deep dissociation that has become a normalized human experience.

And yet, my blind spots were larger than anticipated.

As Hollywood marries spiritual practice, showmanship becomes more important than character. Thrilling spiritual events become more desirable than prayer, and selling spiritual crumbs to lost souls becomes effortless. The desperation is palpable.

My time here has highlighted the spiritual impoverishment so pervasive that if someone dresses the part and carries an artifact—a feather, a rattle—most people have no idea if they are a shaman or a charlatan.

It pushed me to ask: How do we find our way back to sanity and help people reconnect to their own spiritual authority?

The answer lies in what is missing and what has been corrupted.

The Pysical

We cannot have a deep respect for the spiritual without a deep respect for the physical. There have always been systems that honor the body as essential to spiritual development and those that believe evolution comes only through separation from it.

Being body-centric in everyday life has its strengths and its limitations. We can love our bodies into health and beauty, or we can manage, control, and even abuse them into something we think they should be, believing that will bring us love, acceptance, or status.

LA highlights this split—ranging from deep health consciousness to extreme plastic surgery.

Without a good relationship with the body—the physical—we cannot have a good relationship with our spirituality.

What I came into contact in with LA left me more disconnected with my physical body and the healthy connection with the physical world than just about any other experience of my life. This opened the door to the gross distortions that are regularly normalized.

As Alan Watts said, we are not a materialistic culture. If we were we would have a lot more respect for the world around us. What is the result of a “spiritual” practice that leaves us neglectful of our bodies and our world?

Ethical Understanding

My most recent sojourn into New Age spirituality has made one thing abundantly clear: most of us walking around barking up spiritual trees and calling in ascended masters have the character development and spiritual discipline of toddlers.

And yes, in case you were wondering, maturity and wisdom matter.

Think of it this way: you decide to make a pilgrimage to a holy master. You know that if you show up without the right question, she will turn you away. You may never get another chance. You would prepare, wouldn’t you? You would approach with clarity and respect. You would pray for guidance and support.

You would not drive up, honk your horn, complain about the journey, and ask the master what she had for breakfast.

Yet, this is more or less what we are doing.

Spiritual wisdom has become a commodity, purchased with two tickets to Burning Man and a matcha latte. And it’s definitely being sold that way.

What is missed is that you cannot receive true wisdom when you approach it this way. You may be able to tell your friends you were at the master’s house, and they may think you are cool—but you did not gain spiritual insight.

Deciding whether you want to be cool or walk a spiritual path determines whether you reach the master and receive true wisdom, or if she sends someone of your same development level to indulge your illusions.

I am grateful to my family—particularly my father’s parents—for imprinting on me the importance of sound moral judgment. I have my list of challenges, but I was raised by people who had principles and did their best to live by them. Even with their mistakes, they taught me that character matters.

Before opening intergalactic communications or calling in the wisdom of the ancients, we need to learn character “codes” that help us develop and hold our spiritual authority.

The problem? This work isn’t sexy. It won’t sell to the masses. I have watched people claim they want deep teachings when, in reality, they are fooling themselves. They want ego validation—not wisdom.

While I have certainly had my oversights and made my errors, I have learned the most about the importance of ethics from both my teachers and my students. Without substantial effort in this direction, true spiritual development is impossible—regardless of costuming.

Foundational Practice

Is it possible to walk a spiritual path without misstep? Not for most of us. There is much to learn. But that is not the point. The point is that we do all we can to be as ethical as possible and develop the ability to see our own level clearly.

When we are out of touch with our physical selves and have lost sight of what goodness really means, we fall into every spiritual trap—and there are many.

One of the most dangerous delusions is believing we are beyond foundational practices. We assume we have attained such a high level of understanding that we need not humble ourselves to do what every true spiritual master has done: work tirelessly at the foundations.

We overlook teachers and organizations that require real work and seek out those that will stroke our egos. We believe ourselves discerning, thinking that spiritual development should adhere to our preferences.
But spiritual truths do not bow to our preferences.

But spiritual truths do not bow to our preferences.

I came to SoCal for spiritual growth. What I found was a landscape of distortion that, through deep reflection, became a mirror—revealing with stark clarity what is illusion and what is real.

The impact this region has on global spiritual development is immense. SoCal is not merely a participant but a driver of consciousness, influencing not just the United States but much of the world. The distortions found here are not contained; they are packaged, polished, and shipped worldwide, shaping spiritual discourse in ways that are both profound and problematic.

I am grateful for my time there because it allowed me to witness firsthand what obstructs our collective spiritual evolution. It challenged me, deepened my understanding, and humbled me in moments when I lost myself to the current.

Ultimately, I left not only knowing that the true path of spirituality is found within the heart willing to do the work—but with a far clearer understanding of what that truly means. As a result, I am stronger, more resilient, and more equipped to be a better guide for others on this path.

How Your Wounds Map the Way Back to Your True Self

How Your Wounds Map the Way Back to Your True Self

by | Apr 27, 2025 | Dr. Heléna Kate's Blog

How Your Wounds Map the Way Back to Your True Self

We often see life’s betrayals, traumas, and painful experiences as barriers to happiness, but what if they are not obstacles at all? What if they are actually sacred markers pointing us back home to who we truly are?
Beneath every wound is a story about the essence that was touched—the part of you that knows love, trust, connection, and spirit. Your wounds exist because your deepest self exists. Without that true self, there would be nothing to wound.

Seeing Wounds Differently

Rather than signs of brokenness, your wounds are proof of your original wholeness. They mark places where your core qualities of love, trust, and innocence have been challenged, distorted, or buried. But they do not destroy them.

Each scar, whether emotional or spiritual, is a doorway. It points back to the very essence of you that remains unbroken beneath the layers of fear, shame, or defense.

When we stop asking, “Why did this happen to me?” and start asking, “What sacred part of me does this pain reveal?” we begin the profound work of returning home.

Healing as Reclamation

Healing is not about becoming someone new. It is about reclaiming the sacred parts of you that have been covered over, misunderstood, or denied.

Through gentle reflection, forgiveness, and courageous self-inquiry, we can peel away the beliefs that we are “damaged” and instead discover that we have always been whole beneath the hurt.

In fact, the places you feel most wounded are often direct signs of your soul’s brilliance. Your tenderness points to your capacity for love. Your betrayals highlight your intrinsic loyalty. Your losses deepen your understanding of connection.

Your Map Home

Your life experiences create a map—a series of invitations to reconnect with your unaltered essence. By looking with clarity and compassion at the places where you were hurt, you can find the coordinates back to your soul.

The truth is simple: You are not your wounds. You are what has survived them.

On Sexuality 

On Sexuality 

by | Apr 10, 2025 | Dr. Heléna Kate's Blog

On Sexuality 

For me, owning and living my sexuality has been a form of healing work. It takes incredible courage for women to bring our sexuality with us everywhere we go –to work, shopping, alone behind closed doors (or not so alone…).

And it is not as though we have a choice, we are being constantly evaluated -the way we dress, move, laughs, who we smile at, or if we make eye contact. If the purpose of this analysis was appreciation, well, that would be an entirely different world than the one we live in.

Here, among other problems, women are judged and threatened when they are “too sexual.”

They are seen as “easy” by men and caught up in “the game” by more “forward thinking” women. They are stolen from and they are envied.

The state makes laws about their body, and religions make statements about their worthiness. They are controlled and they are condemned.

They are used and exploited.

Rarely are they, and their sacred and beautiful sexuality, celebrated.

When women leave their sexuality behind, or when they try to fit it to the acceptable standards, they lose a substantial part of their power. This loss of power makes them easier targets.

No longer having themselves, they search for what they are missing. They begin to feel insecure and needy. They look for validation. Validation in a partner, from their religion, or just from strangers.

When women try to own their sexual expression they are bombarded with unhealthy feedback. They get distorted and unhealthy approval. They are assumed to be available for inappropriate behavior. They are thought to be less intelligent, less spiritual, less competent.

They are seen as a threat.

Mothers, sisters, friends can rarely assist them because they are living in the same straight-jacket of oppression.

I believe it is up to each of us to reclaim what we can of this essential part of ourselves and find our own unique way of bringing it into being.
I wish this task were easy. I pray that someday it is easy.

This is not about augmenting hyper-sexualized, fake or prostituted versions of sexuality. It is learning to honor and intrinsic part of our nature, in all of its healthy forms of expression, when most people have lost the understanding of what that even really means.

So, when I put on a sexy dress and a hot pair of heels, I am may or may not be looking for attention and that makes my actions no more or less impure. But, I am without a doubt, reclaiming my right and the right of women everywhere to own their own sexuality –to have their full self.

When I allow my body to be alive, open, and feel pleasure, I am not looking for someone to fill an empty space or let me know I am beautiful. I am reclaiming the right to my full expression.

Likewise, when I choose, to keep it to myself, have no interest in sexual games, or am just focused elsewhere, this could be a statement that my sexual expression is a gift that I can give or not -as I choose. It is a clarification, of what seems to be forgotten, that I am not a prop but a woman -and I owe you nothing. 

And, when I live my sexuality – openly, honestly, and with respect for myself – I am claiming my right to live without shame, to love in the way that is best for me, and to respect the gifts that I have been given.

When you see this expression in me, or in another woman, I ask that you pause your judgments, that you silence your desire to try and own my pleasure, and that you learn to celebrate us.

And, when we struggle with the burden of having something so sacred be mistreated, perverted, and oppressed, to the point that there is virtual no unsullied choice to make, I ask that you find compassion and see what you might do to help.

Because we are part of what is missing in this world. We are the much needed healing. We are carriers of the joy and the pleasure your heart so desires.