MY CACAO
THE WAY TO THE HEART
This is how I speak about cacao — from my own heart, in my own way
When I work with cacao, I don’t see it as a trend or a performance.
I see it as a doorway.
A doorway into the emotional body.
A doorway into the heart.
A doorway into the wisdom that is already living inside each person.
Cacao is an ancient Mesoamerican ritual practice, rooted in Mayan and Aztec traditions. The Mayans called it “food of the gods,” and its botanical name, Theobroma cacao, literally means the same. But for me, it’s not about history alone — it’s about the relationship.
Ceremonial-grade cacao is raw, minimally processed, and prepared with intention. It is not psychedelic. It doesn’t take you out of yourself. It gently brings you back in.
When someone drinks cacao in my space, I guide them to drop the armor.
To soften the edges.
To feel what has been quietly waiting underneath.
Physically, cacao contains theobromine — a natural stimulant that increases blood flow to the brain and heart without the jitteriness of caffeine. It also carries magnesium, antioxidants, anandamide (the “bliss molecule”), and PEA — the compound associated with love and euphoria.
Mission
But what I see most is not chemistry.
I see shoulders relax.
Breath deepen.
Tears come without shame.
Laughter rise without permission.
Cacao works as a heart medicine. It gently opens the emotional space so people can access grief, joy, forgiveness, truth. It dissolves barriers we didn’t even realize we were holding.
And then the wisdom comes.
Not from me.
From them.
My role is to hold the container.
I begin by inviting intention — because intention is the compass.
Why are you here?
What are you ready to release?
What are you ready to call in?
We prepare the cacao with prayer. 30–42 grams per person, melted in warm (not boiling) water or plant milk. As I stir, I infuse intention into it. Counter-clockwise to release. Clockwise to call in. Gratitude is always first.
We create sacred space — candles, flowers, crystals, soft music. Not to impress, but to signal to the nervous system that we are entering sacred time.
When we open the circle, we acknowledge the earth beneath us and the sky above us. We mark the threshold between ordinary life and inner life.
When each person holds their cup, I ask them to whisper their intention into it. To drink slowly. To feel the warmth moving through the chest.
And then we sit.
Silence. Breath. Presence.
This is where people begin to drop in.
From the mind into the body.
From the story into the sensation.
From protection into vulnerability.
Sacred sharing is the heart of my cacao ceremonies. Speaking from the “I.” No fixing. No advice. Deep listening. When one voice speaks, all others witness. Something profound happens when people feel heard without being corrected.From there, I may layer breathwork, intuitive movement, meditation, sound healing, journaling, oracle cards.
Vision
Cacao amplifies everything — it enhances inner listening. It creates a liminal space where insight flows more naturally.
Many describe it as “coming home.”
And in group settings, something else happens — social masks soften. Connection becomes real. Vulnerable. Authentic.
But I always close the circle intentionally. Gratitude to cacao. Gratitude to each person. Gratitude to the space. We seal it consciously so nothing feels energetically open or unfinished.
And then comes integration.
Water. Gentle food. Rest. Journaling.
Because the ceremony doesn’t end when the circle closes. Sometimes the deepest wisdom lands days later.
For me, cacao is a gentle but real plant medicine. She doesn’t overpower. She invites.
She meets each person exactly where they are.
And in that meeting, people remember themselves.
That is why I work with cacao.
Not to lead people somewhere new —
but to guide them back to their own heart.
