A Return to La Selva, a return to myself

Returning to the Jungle: My Third Journey to Putumayo

My third journey to the Putumayo region of the Colombian jungle felt less like travel and more like returning to a living teacher. Each visit has peeled back another layer of who I thought I needed to be — and invited something softer, more surrendered, and more rooted in trust.

To sit again with the people of the Cofán lineage is to step into continuity. Their presence carries a steadiness that cannot be learned from books or conferences. It is embodied. It is relational. It is ancestral. This time, the beauty of the jungle felt even more alive — morning mist rising through thick green canopy, the hum of insects at dusk, the rhythmic sound of rain moving across leaves. We swam in the river, letting the current pull at our limbs, washing away the dust of travel and, in many ways, the dust of old identities. We hiked through dense jungle paths where every step required attention, humility, and awareness — a reminder that healing, too, is a terrain that asks us to move slowly and with reverence.

The Ortega healings were among the most profound moments. There is a simplicity to them that belies their power. The healer gently brushes the body with fresh plant leaves, moving with intention, prayer, and precision — opening energetic channels, clearing stagnation, inviting alignment. There is no force. No drama. Just a quiet recalibration. You feel it not as spectacle, but as subtle shift — something reorganizing at a level beyond words.

The abuelo who served ceremony traveled more than five hours to reach the healing retreat center. That alone speaks to the depth of commitment held within this lineage. The medicine was offered with humility and strength — not as performance, not as product, but as prayer. To witness the way he carries decades of devotion in his songs, his silence, his gaze — it is a reminder that this path is not about personal expansion. It is about stewardship.

What continues to move me most is the relational fabric of it all — the laughter shared after meals, the stories spoken softly in the evening, the sense that healing here is communal, not individual. The Cofán people do not separate the spiritual from the ecological, or the ceremonial from the everyday. The jungle is not a backdrop. It is an active participant.

Each return to Putumayo shows me how much further I can soften, how much deeper I can listen, and how important it is that we honor and materially support the indigenous communities who safeguard these traditions. If we are privileged enough to learn in these spaces, reciprocity must follow.

The river carries everything forward. And somehow, each time, it carries me a little closer to humility.

A Visit with the Abuelo

My first journey to sit with the abuelo was with Taita Cesar and two close friends, traveling to the border of Colombia and Ecuador. It felt like crossing not just a geographic threshold, but an internal one. The maloca was dark, lit only by candlelight — shadows dancing against wooden beams, smoke and prayer weaving through the air. We strung up our hammocks side by side, suspended in that dim, breathing space. There were no buckets; when purging came, you leaned over the edge of the maloca and offered it back to the earth. It was raw, unfiltered, stripped of the comforts and structures I had known elsewhere.

The grandfather spoke almost the entire ceremony — but he was not speaking to us. He was speaking to the spirits. His words moved in a cadence that felt ancient, rhythmic, relational. I was told he sometimes paints his tongue purple so that when he turns into a jaguar in the spirit world, he does not eat the people in ceremony — a teaching both mythic and symbolic, pointing to the magnitude of what is navigated in those unseen realms. We had to step out alone into the darkness of the jungle to find a hole they had dug for us to use the bathroom, guided only by intuition and faint memory of the path. The stairs leading from the maloca were far apart and moved with every step, luckily I didn’t need to use the bathroom during this ceremony, a rare occurrence for me.

That first ceremony dismantled my ideas of control and comfort. It was not curated or softened. It was elemental. And within it, a message came through with startling clarity: consciousness is a gift. Not something to manipulate or conquer — but something to steward with reverence. That understanding has stayed with me ever since.

Turn Intention Into Action

Confidence doesn’t always arrive with a bold entrance. Sometimes, it builds quietly, step by step, as we show up for ourselves day after day. It grows when we choose to try, even when we’re unsure of the outcome. Every time you take action despite self-doubt, you reinforce the belief that you’re capable. Confidence isn’t about having all the answers — it’s about trusting that you can figure it out along the way.

The key to making things happen isn’t waiting for the perfect moment; it’s starting with what you have, where you are. Big goals can feel overwhelming when viewed all at once, but momentum builds through small, consistent action. Whether you’re working toward a personal milestone or a professional dream, progress comes from showing up — not perfectly, but persistently. Action creates clarity, and over time, those steps forward add up to something real.

You don’t need to be fearless to reach your goals, you just need to be willing. Willing to try, willing to learn, and willing to believe that you’re capable of more than you know. The road may not always be smooth, but growth rarely is. What matters most is that you keep going, keep learning, and keep believing in the version of yourself you’re becoming.

Make Room for Growth

Confidence doesn’t always arrive with a bold entrance. Sometimes, it builds quietly, step by step, as we show up for ourselves day after day. It grows when we choose to try, even when we’re unsure of the outcome. Every time you take action despite self-doubt, you reinforce the belief that you’re capable. Confidence isn’t about having all the answers — it’s about trusting that you can figure it out along the way.

The key to making things happen isn’t waiting for the perfect moment; it’s starting with what you have, where you are. Big goals can feel overwhelming when viewed all at once, but momentum builds through small, consistent action. Whether you’re working toward a personal milestone or a professional dream, progress comes from showing up — not perfectly, but persistently. Action creates clarity, and over time, those steps forward add up to something real.

You don’t need to be fearless to reach your goals, you just need to be willing. Willing to try, willing to learn, and willing to believe that you’re capable of more than you know. The road may not always be smooth, but growth rarely is. What matters most is that you keep going, keep learning, and keep believing in the version of yourself you’re becoming.