By Amar
There is a quiet revolution unfolding in how we walk beside others in their healing journeys — a shift that calls us to remember, again and again: you are not here to fix anyone.
This may sound simple. It’s not.
It may sound passive. It’s the opposite.
To truly not fix, to truly accompany, is one of the most active, alive, and radically loving things we can do.
I learned this not from a method, but from being dismantled — again and again — by life, and by sitting with others in their rawest moments. Not to advise them. Not to improve their feelings. But simply to be there.
The Illusion of Helping
There is something so compelling about “helping.” It makes us feel valuable. It makes us feel in control. It so easily wraps itself in spiritual language: “I just want the best for them,” or “I know what would really serve them.”
But more often than not, what we call helping is a subtle refusal to trust.
A refusal to trust the wisdom of the other.
A refusal to trust the intelligence of life.
A refusal to sit in the unknown with someone — without solutions.
True presence doesn’t try to fix. It listens. It breathes. It waits. It trusts.
A Space Without Interference
In the work we do — especially in the sacred spaces of our retreats — the depth of transformation that becomes possible only arises when people feel truly left in peace, in dignity, in their own rhythm.
We do not interfere. We do not interpret. We do not impose.
Because no one can see the soul of another better than that soul itself.
Our role is to hold a field of trust so stable, so grounded, that a person can finally hear their own voice again.
Not ours.
Not the world’s.
Not the old programs.
Their own.
What Does It Take?
To be this kind of presence, we have to do the work ourselves.
We have to sit with our own discomfort when someone is crying and we don’t jump to soothe them.
We have to face our own need to be needed.
We have to watch our ego lose its identity as “the one who helps.”
And what remains?
Silence.
Humility.
And something bigger than either of us — holding it all.
Entheogens and the Inner Journey
In our retreats, we use entheogens in a sacred and conscious way. They are not there to fix people either. They are not magic pills. They are invitations — gentle but powerful ones — to listen inwardly, to remember.
That’s why the way we hold space matters just as much as the medicine itself.
Because if we interrupt that process with advice, suggestions, or interpretations, we may dilute the most potent teacher in the room: silence.
The Courage to Trust
When we accompany someone — whether in ceremony, in life, in crisis, or in celebration — we are walking beside a sovereign being.
Not a project.
Not a patient.
Not a problem to solve.
And when we stop trying to fix others, something miraculous happens: they begin to trust themselves again.
And maybe, just maybe, so do we.
This is not just a philosophy. It’s a foundational value of how we work in our retreats. If you feel called to experience a space where you’re not treated as broken — but as whole, powerful, and capable — we welcome you to walk with us.
You will be received, not managed.
Witnessed, not evaluated.
Trusted, not analyzed.
Because you already are everything you need to become.
And we’re simply here, walking beside you, in love and in truth.