And the fact is that the world needs more ritual.

I’m so excited to share this deep conversation with Koya Webb with you. It’s an easeful conversation between two friends, I hope you enjoy our insights around ritual.

We’re being called into ritual for a reason—we’ve forgotten our true Selves as divine beings. Rituals remind us of who we are, remind us that we belong to each other and the earth. And that we are part of something greater than ourselves. Ritual is a portal to a sacred life.

This conversation is for anyone who hopes to live a more intentional life. We go deep. We talk about our favorite rituals, higher self-work that includes letter writing, the power of yoga nidra, and even the ritual of dressing ourselves.

Explore more rituals

Koya’s book, Wellbeing Rituals: Science-Backed Practices for Sustainable Healing and Living, arrives on June 16.

My book, Living Ritual: Infuse Each Day with Purpose and Spirit, arrives on August 25.

About our guest

Koya Webb is a transformational speaker, nervous system regulation specialist and embodied leadership facilitator with over 25 years of experience in breath-based healing and sustainable wellbeing.

She helps compassionate leaders understand how chronic stress and survival mode impact the body, emotions and decision-making and teaches practical tools for nervous system regulation, resilience and embodied leadership.

Koya is the founder of the Get Loved Up Embodied Leadership Academy, creator of Embody Breath and author of the upcoming book Wellbeing Rituals. She has been featured in Forbes, Goop, ESSENCE, NBC, CBS, and E!.

Links & Resources

Connect with Koya at koyawebb.com

Koya’s book comes out June 16th! Order your copy here.

Learn more about Get Loved Up Embodied Leadership Academy

Explore the documentary, The Plastic Detox

As someone who has had a devoted practice of yoga nidra for the past 25 years, I have a curiosity about darkness and the power it holds for our transformation, especially in this era of distraction, AI, and misinformation.

This week Andrew Holecek and I had a fascinating conversation about the topic of his upcoming book, Total Eclipse of the Mind: Unleashing the Power of Darkness for Creativity, Healing and Transformation (St. Martin’s Essentials, coming May 26, 2026).

In this chat (below), Andrew details his long-standing practice of dark retreats in the Buddhist tradition. He tells us what to expect and how this relates to ego, artificial light, and the Kali Yuga. This is a rich conversation with one of my favorite teachers. I hope you enjoy it and let us know what your favorite takeaways are.

I also have exciting news: my new book, Living Ritual Infuse Each Day with Purpose and Spirit, is available for preorder. For those who preorder, I will be offering a free 16-day live ritual experience. You can find out more here.

Hope is still here.

I have seen it with my own eyes and felt it with my own heart.

Not more so than during this time of devastation and incomprehensible loss.

Community is where the hope is.

The urban wildfires in Los Angeles have been so intense and unpredictable that it must feel like riding a roller coaster blindfolded. Having lived in Topanga, I have been evacuated before, and yet I can not imagine the unimaginable.

As I’m writing these words on Sunday evening, the winds are due to pick up overnight and throughout the next three days. My old neighbors in Topanga are emotionally hunkering down for another three days of being in the unknown while trying to balance the myriad of emotions arising, offering support, calling in welfare checks, gathering supplies, and bringing food to the incredible fire crews.

I know more than 20 people who have lost their homes and everything they own. They are grateful to be alive.

At a time when everything remains unknown, it is the connection to other humans who come together to lift each other up, call to check in, share their heartbreak and fear, or just hold space for a friend's complex emotions that sustains hope.

Be the person who carries the thread of hope in your quality of care and love.

Find one way today to reach out and let a beloved know that you are carrying their hope for them—a spark of light in the darkness—when even hope may seem too heavy to carry.

Stay tuned for announcements about upcoming Eco Grief Cafes and other events to support those impacted.

In the meantime, here are a few ways to financially support:

• Donate to the Red Cross on your phone via text by messaging "REDCROSS" to 90999.

• Westside Food Bank

• Wildlife Relief Fund

• Support the rebuilding of Historically Black Altadena

• California Fire Fund

• Give Directly

Insights from practice have led me to a more spacious life, where I can savor the whispers of my soul and explore where they want to lead me, whether on the written page, in the forest, or in my dreams.

As the mornings have turned colder and darker, I rise before the sun, completing my last sip of tea and mantra. This leads to musing on new creative projects and, lately, rearranging the sticky notes on my wall. Winter will be the time to lie down and let them dream through me. Rest is such a beautiful, creative, and trustworthy ally.

Now is the time to connect with what sustains and nourishes you and your dreams for your life.

I recently returned to an old mind-mapping journal and highlighted my soul whispers. They are essential truths and healing balms for these times; I’ll share some of them on Instagram this month.

Maybe you have some soul whispers that want to come through now or can be saved in a time capsule for later.

You may wish to practice this version of the Soul Whisper Meditation from my book, The Luminous Self:

Self-inquiries:

• What sustains and nourishes you during a time of uncertainty?

• What dream for your future have you been afraid to hold because it seemed too big?

• What are you ready to claim or reclaim for yourself?

I’d love to dive deeper into practice, inquiry, and community with you in 2025. Come join me for virtual and in-person programs:

• Sunday, January 5 | Virtual Legacy Activation in Radiance Subscription (Join with a 30-day trial—cancel anytime)

• Yearlong programs start in March 2025 | Meditation Teacher Mentorship & Yoga Nidra Mentorship

• April 6-10 | Radiant Rest Yoga Nidra Retreat at Menla Institute in the Catskills, New York

• May 22-26 | The Balance of Nature: An Elemental Wisdom Retreat with Living Tea in Telluride, Colorado

• August 18-24 | Rest & Create Writers and Creators Retreat in SouthWest Sanctuary

  Thank you for reading my Substack, As Above, So Below. I hope you’ll subscribe for free to receive new posts that include practices, inquiry, poems, and more on rest, creativity, nature as a teacher, and more.

I moved to South Africa six months after Nelson Mandela was elected president and seven months after apartheid was officially outlawed, though it remained a permanent construct in the hearts and minds of many. 

A few years into living between South Africa and Los Angeles, Linda, a beautiful Xhosa South African friend, invited me to be one of the judges at her village's local beauty pageant during a festival in Mthatha. 

On a brutally hot day in Cape Town, I had my overnight bag and a bottle of water in hand for the one-day trip. I boarded a tiny plane heading to the airport nearest the village. The plane was packed to the rafters with items and animals I had never seen on an airplane before. Many elders were trying to get to their seats. Most of the announcements were in Afrikaans. I learned by observing that the custom was to let older people get in front of you and wait until you had a clear path to a seat. As I stepped aside for an elder who seemed to be in his eighties, he grabbed my water bottle out of my hand, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig. I was shocked—he was a stranger. He never uttered a word; it was a nonchalant encounter for him. Seconds later a woman took the bottle from him and drank; after her, the bottle was passed to three or four more people before it was back in my hand with exactly one swig left. I got to my seat and began to process what had happened. 

It didn't take long for it all to make sense.

This water doesn't belong to me. Sure, I paid for it, but it is not mine. It was sweltering, and no one on the plane had water. A bottle of water was a luxury item. If I had water, everybody on the plane who needed it also had water. 

This is the power of the village. This is how we take care of each other.

This is one of the many ways living in South Africa taught me the true power of community—of tending to each other. This was a defining moment for me to understand that community means we are in this together. Our ancestors knew this; they lived by it. If not, they would have perished.  

In the liminal space of uncertainty following the Hurricanes and the election, I will remember this 30-year-old lesson from the man on the plane.

I will stay devoted to rituals that sharpen my discernment and keep my heart soft.

I will be open to not knowing and holding space for something new to emerge. I will not avoid the discomfort. I know discomfort is a portal.

Find your community. Know who can hold you and who you can hold.

And when your bottle is filled with a little light, hope, or inspiration, don't forget to share.

We are all thirsty.

There are many paths to knowing the true Self, a universal essence that transcends name and form, death and decay. It resides deep within us, existing before we had a name and enduring beyond the body. It is eternal, radiant, and free from all sorrow.

Some of us have journeyed to distant lands, ashrams, temples, and teachers in search of the door to the true Self. But what if this sacred door is closer than we realize? What if the pathway to knowing the true Self is hidden in the everyday encounters with our neighbors, the laughter of those in line at the grocery store, or the tears of a stranger? These seemingly mundane moments carry the potential for profound connection and understanding.

The illusion of separateness keeps us in pain, suffering, and sorrow. When we see others as separate, we can more easily harm the “other.” Who are “those people”? Where is "over there," if not right inside the cave of our own hearts?

I still remember the moment I had with a stranger almost twenty years ago, which led me to a deep knowing that we are all connected. Not a word had been exchanged as the rising sun expressed its fractal beauty through the kitchen window one morning at the ashram. There was no mantra playing, and no breathing technique was employed. This was a pure moment of connection expressed through a transactionless smile. The luminous light fully burst through the window, weaving a thread between our hearts as we stood six feet apart. In that moment's silence, we remembered a timeless connection to all things, both ancient and new. It was magically profound. We never uttered a word to each other or saw each other again.

In my heart, I believe that this is the remembering that will save us. The key to our remembering is the understanding that we are not separate from Earth; we are Earth, and the land of our body is the land of Earth. Giving ourselves as many opportunities to experience and reclaim this knowledge is a key to our collective healing. This remembering is a doorway to feeling the connected roots of our humanity.

As a teacher of self-inquiry, I ask myself these questions to keep myself present to the experience of connectedness. I hope you find them helpful.

• Who Am I?

• How is my legacy connected to collective liberation?

• Have I touched Earth today and offered my gratitude?

We Are ALL Related

This fall I will be sharing the practices of collective deep rest and meditation at We Are ALL Related: Unearthing the Roots of Our Shared Humanity in Santa Fe, New Mexico on Friday, October 25 and Sunday, October 27.

This is an unprecedented gathering with the founding members of the International Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers, their children, relatives, and special guests. This community has supported the mission for peace, prayer and spiritual activism, bringing healing and hope to thousands around the world for the past two decades.

Learn more and join us here.

Experience Your Inner Light

Also, in October, Dr. Chanti Tacoronte-Perez and I are hosting a day of connection and exploration of the inner light of the true Self. Join us for the Inner Light Day Retreat, a sacred time together to remember our connections to ourselves, each other, and nature. It takes place Saturday, October 19 at The Roundhouse in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Learn more here.

A trip into the deep forest.

Four miles in on a rocky forest road.

A beautiful flat patch of soil next to the stream to sit and brew tea.

The water began to boil.

Sitting in silence.

The sound of the stream played in stereo through my ears.

The forest was watching.

The trees, the rocks, the birds, the insects, and the flowers barely blooming.

They waited, knowing.

An opening was revealed.

I was entering threshold.

Time and space folded in on itself.

The first sip touched by lips, air entered the liquid, and my exhale brought me deeper into timelessness.

The forest got quieter.

Stillness.

An initiation.

I became part of the background, not standing out or in, but of.

Was I the bird, or the stream?

Where was I not?

Wholeness remembered

Sitting in the in-between.

Maybe this is where the answers are.

Thank you for reading my Substack, where I share inspirations and beauty from the sacred ritual of life. I invite you to further explore these themes:

• If you are interested in tea ceremony, listen to my interview with Colin Hudon from Living Tea.

• My conversation with Dr. Casey Means dives into the connection between nature and our cellular health.

• Connect with nature in my Earth Dreaming Circle, which is part of my online community, Radiance Subscription (try a month free!).

Until next time.

Grief is a Portal 

to healing 

to ancestors

to beauty

to remembering

to release limitations

to love

to knowing 

to the deepest cave

to the home of grace

I invite you to add to this poem in the comments

This weekend, I visited Unashay, a grief sanctuary on the ancestral lands of the Tewa people in northern New Mexico. Beautiful spaceholders led us into song, held space at the Ancestral altar, and guided us through a powerful grief ritual. Philosopher, writer, and public intellectual Dr. Bayo Akomolafe spoke about healing, wellness, and restoration vs. transmutation. 

Sit with loss as an ally as opposed to a pathology. —Dr. Bayo Akomolafe

We need space for grief; we need to grieve in the community, and we need to be seen, heard, and felt in our sorrow. Because we are not well. Because Earth is not well. And we cannot remember the connection. We are grieving the loss of loved ones, of memory, of the beautiful places both inside and outside of us. And so much more.

I am still processing the experience and all that transpired, especially the dream I had a few weeks ago—before this sacred gathering—of sitting in that very grief ceremony next to a new friend I had only met once in person. That "deja vu" felt like the part of me that holds the past, present, and future all at once, rising to the surface. She has called me to go deeper. 

Grief can take us to lands we don't know about. —Dr. Bayo Akomolafe

Self-Inquiry: What does it mean to be well? 

Photo credit: U.S. Forest Service

Our essential self is free of doubt. It is knowing and trusting; it is ancient and wise. 

Doubt has created so much pain in the world, whether we doubt ourselves or project doubt onto others—whole groups of people. 

Doubt can turn to fear, hatred, and cynicism. So many shades. 

Self-doubt is perhaps the most painful. 

This morning, I contemplated doubt as I prepared to teach a workshop on the power of sankalpa (a sacred vow that aligns with your truth).

The most auspicious sankalpa is said to be free of doubt, and the state of yoga nidra is also said to be free of doubt (and fear).

My mind fell into a series of inquiries, which I have threaded together as an inquiry meditation.

Sit with your tea, journal, or paints and receive this offering. 

Exploring Freedom: An Inquiry Meditation

Photo credit: Robert Sturman

I’ve been dreaming of building a labyrinth on the land. I miss the spiral walking path that became my morning ritual on the way to water the garden when I lived in California. But as I envisioned creating another spiral path, it just seemed too simple for these times. 

I needed more reminders to pause and reflect, to be unsure of just how long it will take to get to the center and back, and to stand in the discomfort of the liminal space. 

The healing becomes more potent when I feel the sting of the medicine and let it seep deep into the wound. Then I remember both the cause and the cure.

If you have ever walked a labyrinth, you know that it provides many opportunities for inquiry, inspiration, revelation, and transformation. I look forward to meeting you in the center one day.

Seven Circuits of Transformation

Inspiration for a Labyrinth Walk

Enter the labyrinth with an intention,  a question, or a request. 

Consider cleansing yourself with a sacred smoke or herb that connects you to your ancestors. 

As you enter the labyrinth, walk slowly and notice the pulse of the overculture that wants you to hurry. You may repeat your personal mantra or something like "I have time, I have space" to remind you that you are worthy of spaciousness and grace. Each time you turn within the labyrinth, pause and notice what arises. Answers and inspirations come in many forms. There are generally 3, 5, 7, and 11 circuit labyrinths, giving you the respective opportunities to pause and reflect.  

When you reach the center, pause, experiencing this as a moment of deep surrender, prayer, or whatever feels right for you. Take the time to deeply listen. 

Slowly make your way back out of the labyrinth, pausing along the way at each turn until you reach the entrance once again. 

Devote some time to journal before you go back out into the stream of daily life. 

Find a labyrinth in your hometown at labyrinthlocator.com.

I write this offering in the darkness. 4:30 am on a winter morning in the foothills of the dark folds of the Rocky Mountain range. 

My obstacle today as I practiced my mind mapping was darkness. 

Not the darkness of uncertainty, sadness, or despair. Literal darkness.

The light on my tea stove was out after three bowls of tea. 

My mantra and meditation complete. 

I almost paused before writing to make space for seeing. 

And then a remembrance. 

You can see in the darkness. 

Look for the portals of light that lead into the cosmos. 

We will all have to navigate our ship of life in the sea of liminality. 

Close your eyes and look for the light. 

You can see in the darkness. 

Practice with darkness

Sit in silence, in the darkness, for nine minutes, notice what arises, and journal afterward. 

Notice the feeling of being at the edge of darkness within yourself. What fears arise? Remember when you touched the darkness and returned to the light?

Sit under a new moon for three consecutive months. Notice the unique qualities of darkness. What can you see, feel, hear? What do you know about your own darkness?

Read

Opening to Darkness by Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves—slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future. —Thích Nhất Hạnh

I have created this space as a mini refuge, a homecoming, a belonging, a soft space to remember that We Are Nature. Of all the teachings I have received, none have been more transformative than those that remind us of our connection to nature and help us to reclaim a path that honors the sacred interconnectedness of all life.

Over the last few years, I have taken a deep dive into studying spiritual ecology, ecotherapy, and ecopsychology as a supportive extension of the wisdom of Tantra and Sri Vidya that has informed my spiritual life for three decades. This study has thrived within the grounding soil of the teachings from Adi Shankara, Dattatreya, Swami Veda Bharati, and Thich Nhat Hanh, which have always infused my practice with compassion, love, and joy. Many of you have shared how the Nature Amplifications and the As Above So Below meditation from my books Radiant Rest and The Luminous Self have transformed and awakened you. And now, after living for the past three years in the wild expanse of Northern New Mexico, I am inspired to share more, in a new way.

This twice-monthly offering is a way to deepen our inner exploration and to be in reciprocity with the earth and each other. This is part of the remembrance medicine the world needs to cure our collective amnesia and grief. The as above so below community is a place to receive gentle reminders through poems, voice notes, journal prompts, and personal inspirations. Please receive these as inspiration to pause, reflect, contemplate, and grow.

May these welcomings into the numinous liminal space inspire your own writing practice, meditations, relationships, and wanderings on the earth.

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