Fire, Mountain, Memory…

This piece was 95% written back in February of 2025 and then reflected upon at the time of publishing in August 2025.

Some journeys don’t begin on planes.
They begin in prayer - in the heat of devotion, in the tremble of memory waking back up.

At the start of this year, Javi and I returned to Chile to spend time with her family. What we didn’t expect was how deeply we would be stretched; spiritually, physically, emotionally, and relationally- in the months that followed.

Chile: Foundations and Family

We spent nearly two months in Javi’s homeland, laying the foundations, both literally and metaphorically - for what will one day become our family’s home on that land. It was a time of being held by her roots, her people, her place… and yet, it wasn’t restful.

In mid-January, we entered a sacred Lakota ceremony: the Sundance.

Javi danced. I served on the fire team for four days.
Writing this piece back in February after the dance brought tears to my eyes… I still have intense flashbacks to moment and well up.

I was moved to tears over and over - not from pain, but from something much older. Something I couldn’t fully name. Like a part of me was remembering what it meant to live with that much devotion. To keep the fire alive, not just for ceremony, but for the people, for the Earth, for the unseen.

Watching my partner dance… watching her give herself so completely while holding my own post in the fire broke me open in ways I hadn’t expected.
There were moments that felt unbearable, and still, I stayed. Because something sacred was unfolding. Something ancestral.

The Unfolding of Gratitude

In the moment of Sundance, it felt like I was grieving. I couldn’t fully explain it then, only that tears kept coming, that something deep inside me was breaking open.

But six months on, with the support of a Chinese medicine guide, I can see it more clearly.
It wasn’t grief alone. It was the beginning of what I now know as heartbreaking gratitude… for humanity, for my own remembrance, for the beauty that was present in my life at that time.

Gratitude so deep it hurts.
Not because anything was lost, but because something sacred was touched.
A glimpse of what it means to live fully, in devotion, in service, and in love.

Peru: Fire to Mountain, Ceremony to Craft

After Chile, we journeyed to Peru.

The Sacred Valley greeted us like an old friend.
The mountains, rivers, lakes, and light especially at 4200m above sea level… pulled us into stillness and listening.

We reunited with Toribio, a Q’ero elder and long-time friend of Javi’s. His people are among the few who preserved their ancestral ways by staying high in the Andes after colonisation. Sitting with him, hearing his words, was like sitting at the feet of a living library.

And then, something else was born.

The Birth of Wakan Wasi Ñuke

While living in Cusco, Wakan Wasi Ñuke began to take form not as a business idea, but as a living prayer.

We spent two full weeks doing nothing but building relationships not just buying from artisans, but sitting with them. Drinking tea in their kitchens. Listening to their stories. Seeing where their hands worked and where their prayers landed. We went inside homes, not just markets. Into weaving spaces, not just shops.

This is where the real store began.

Not in product lists, but in moments of reciprocity. Trust. Recognition.

Coming Home

We’re now back in Cusco, slowly re-entering the rhythm of planning, creating, and offering.

In the coming weeks, we’ll begin hosting new sweat lodges and circles on the Gold Coast, in Sydney, Scott’s Head, and Kuranda.

And through Wakan Wasi Ñuke, we’re offering something deeper than a store:
A way to honour Indigenous craftsmanship.
A way to remember.
A way to carry lineage forward with beauty, with prayer, with integrity.

Whether you sit with us in the steam of ceremony, walk with us on the land, or support the artisans we love, we’re grateful.

This path is not always visible.
But it is deeply, unmistakably alive.

And we thank you for walking it with us.