I didn’t come to Peru to stay.

It was supposed to be a quick stop.

After a year of moving through heartbreaks, job losses, and living out of suitcases between Toronto, San Francisco, and LA, I figured—why not go somewhere quiet for the holidays?

I had this one moment while meditating back in Canada…

I was sitting on the floor, asking: “Where should I go for Christmas and New Year’s?”

And all of a sudden, I saw the mountains of Peru in my mind. Then the name Zach popped up.

I hadn’t spoken to him in a while, but I messaged him.

He wrote back saying, “I’m living in Pisac, in a three-bedroom house. Come stay for a week, in the extra room.”

I didn’t think twice.

I booked a ticket.

It was supposed to be a two-week visit…

But I just moved into my own three-bed home instead.

And this spontaneous adventure turned into three months that completely reshaped:

👉🏽 My nervous system

👉🏽 My patterns

👉🏽 How I relate to myself

Lesson 1: Stability really matters. And so does your environment.

Before this, I was bouncing between cities—Toronto, SF, LA—trying to build a life in each one.

But I never felt grounded.

I lived with my parents, roommates, and subleased people's homes.

I always valued freedom, and the ability to get up and go MORE than a stable home.

Even when I built a home with my ex, I was always tugging on him.

Let’s spend some time in New York and put the home up for rent.

Let’s find a second home in Portugal, Costa Rica…

Let’s make this stable, yet digital nomad lifestyle happen.

I wanted both. But I never took the steps to build one at a time.

Living in my own home in Peru changed everything.

I learned to live alone and be happy.

I have roommates and visitors sometimes.

Life is quieter, the distances are closer, and there’s less to do.

And that makes me happy.

I’m shocked — as someone who felt Los Angeles wasn’t busy enough, San Francisco wasn’t “whatever else” enough.

But Pisac, Peru, is enough.

I walk into town. I go to the river. I breathe fresh air. I see horses. I move my body.

I’m not stuck in a car or racing to a meeting.

And because there’s no pressure to go anywhere, it’s easier to build routines that actually work.

I realized—oh. This is what stability feels like. I never had this before.

Lesson 2: I learned how to pray again, differently.

When things got hard—housing issues, visa stress, business challenges—I didn’t spiral.

I walked to the water.

I put my head down on the earth.

I said a prayer.

I HAVE TRUST - that everything would work out.

Not the prayers that I grew up with in Christianity or Judaism—reading from a book.

This was different. This was an offering to life. A 'Thank You' for being here.

A conversation with the mountain.

A request for support—not just for me, but for what’s in the best interest of the planet, too.

Now, I don’t just “problem-solve” alone.

I pray, listen, and trust I’ll be guided.

I know that if I am in service of others, the planet, and whatever is good, I will be guided.

And I don’t feel alone in carrying my burdens — even if I’m physically alone.

Lesson 3: Nature helped me create space between anxiety and action.

Before, when I was stressed, I had two settings:

1. Total shutdown (bed rotting), lying down, covered with my blankets, and racing thoughts.
2. Push through and overwork. Even if I felt anxious, I thought “the more I do the better”.

There was no middle ground.

Here, when the anxiety creeps in—about my business, life direction, whatever—I don’t react right away.

I walk to the river. I hike. I breathe. I do hape (a plant medicine I’ve come to love). I listen.

I’ve trained myself to create space between the thought and the action.

And in that space:

I’ve been able to actually

see

feel

and shift my patterns.

Lesson 4: I’ve started working with plants and herbs that meet me where I am.

This has been a whole new layer of healing.

If I need energy, I drink Cocoa or Mambe.

If I’m too in my head, I take Wachuma to reconnect with my body.

If I want to connect to my intuition, I use Blue Lotus.

If I’m in my heart or need help processing emotions, I drink Bobinsana.

I’ll write more about this soon, but these plants aren’t just supplements.

They’re part of my daily check-in with myself.

What energy do I need?

Where am I stuck?

They’ve helped me find my balance between spinning out and shutting down.

Lesson 5: The balance between introversion and extroversion is sacred—and tricky.

I’m 50/50. Introvert and Extrovert.

Some days, I need full solitude to process, create, and connect with spirit.

Other days, I crave deep conversation and community.

Before, I didn’t know how to balance the two.

• If I was alone too long, I’d get depressed.
• If I was out too much, I’d get overstimulated and drained.

Here, because everything is so close, I can choose when I want to connect.

There’s yoga, breathwork, non-fires—all five minutes from my house.

The community is small.

So it’s easy to see someone in a co-working space.

While sitting by the river. On a hike.

And get nice, casual interactions without having to over-plan and over-commit.

I felt like in the US, in many of the major cities, or even in Toronto, you have to plan for weeks to do something.

Social interaction wasn’t as spontaneous. And who knows how you will feel two Fridays from now?

Here if I want to socialize, my neighbor is two seconds away. There’s always something happening, and there will be people I know.

So I just have to check in with myself the day, hour, or moment of.

I’ve learned to ask myself:

“Do I need alone time or connection right now?”—and actually listen."

Lesson 6: Love and compassion are non-negotiables—even when you set boundaries.

Being here, I’ve met people from all walks of life—healers, artists, VCs, nomads, musicians, stylists.

And everyone’s on a journey. Everyone’s healing something.

It’s easy to judge people when they’re hard to be around.

I realized even more so — we are all human…and we all want the same thing.

LOVE

COMPASSION

COMMUNITY

And nobody is perfect. Some more “healed” than others…but everyone always has something to learn.

But now, I can see:

• She’s not a bad person. She’s just overwhelmed.
• He’s not flaky. He’s figuring it out.
• I don’t have to be best friends with everyone. But I can still treat them with compassion.
• And I can stop overgiving if it doesn’t feel right. That’s part of love, too.

Lesson 7: Everyone has their stuff. Mine is my mind.

This place has become an incubator for me.

• To see my shadows.
• To confront my patterns.
• To learn how my mind works—and how to bring myself back to center.

Whether it’s my ADHD, anxiety, family history, or just years of go-go-go, now, when I spiral, I don’t just keep spinning.

So it’s easy to think there’s a huge problem with something in your life when you’re not feeling exactly nourished, or well.

I check the basics:

1. Did I sleep enough? Or am I running on 5 hours of sleep, or 8 hours of bad sleep?
2. Did I eat? Or did I somehow skip meals?
3. Have I moved? Or have I been working at my computer all day? NOT breathing, not moving.
4. Did I talk to a friend? Or am I isolating to think, do, create — but too much.

Sometimes, it’s just that. It’s not some trauma, some healing process, some memory — it’s the basics of life and nourishment.

Lesson 8: Eat, Sleep, Walk, Take a Step

A friend did an energy reading for me recently here in Peru. The beauty of this place is how many intuitive healers and readers this place attracts.

He said:

“You’re trying to do so much that you end up doing nothing.”

Oof. I felt that.

He told me:

Eat. Sleep. Walk. Take a step.

That’s it.

So now, every single day—I come back to the basics.

I make sure I’ve eaten.

I’ve slept enough.

I’ve moved my body, walked in nature.

And then I ask:

“What’s the one next step I can take—today, this hour, this week?”

Not the big vision.

Not the 5-year plan.

Just the next step.

Because honestly?

It’s one of the best hacks to get out of overwhelm.

Lesson 9: Let Go of Expectations (Without Giving Up Structure)

Back in the U.S.—especially in tech, especially at Meta—expectations were part of everything.

• You’re expected to get promoted every two years.
• To perform, to be visible, to succeed.
• To move fast, build things, and meet metrics.

And in life too, we’re goal by society, family, others, whoever:

Get the house, the partner, the family, the “success” by 30.

It’s so deeply wired into us. By the system around us. How we were raised.

So when we don’t meet those expectations, we can spiral.

👉🏽 We start to believe something’s wrong with us.

👉🏽 That we’re not enough.

👉🏽 That we’ve failed.

But here in Peru, all that pressure… it softens.

•  No one’s asking me where I’m going next.
•  No one’s measuring my worth by a performance review.
•  No one’s monitoring my progress.

And it gives me space to ask:

➡️ Where are these expectations coming from?

• Society?
• My parents?
• Old stories I’ve carried with me?
• Or… are they truly mine?

Here’s the most important thing, though…

It’s not about letting go of expectations completely.

Throwing in the towel like I see sooo many people do.

It’s a tricky thing.

The answer isn’t to drop all structure and float through life saying “nothing matters.”

What I’m learning is this:

✅ Let go of external expectations.

✅ But build internal trust, connection to yourself, and what really matters

✅ Let your own values define your goals.

✅ And stay open to redirection when things don’t go as planned!!! → Try…but let the Universe correct

Lesson 10: Live With Flexibility + Adaptability

This “trust in the Universe” or letting go of expectations, even if you set them from truth and alignment with yourself, brings me to another lesson of flexibility and adaptability.

The weather here changes constantly.

☀️ One minute, you’re hiking in the sun.

🌧 Next, you’re soaking wet walking back from the river.

At first, I resisted it. Now I just plan around it.

I’ve learned to just go with it.

Change the plan. Move with the moment.

🌞 If it’s a sunny day, I go out. I walk. I pray. I soak it in. I work in the evening instead.

☔️ If it’s raining, then I focus on work at home or rest.

I never know until the day off. Or moment of.

It’s made me think about how life works the same way.

There are seasons in nature—summer, winter, fall, spring.

And there are seasons in us, too.

1. There’s a hermit season. A resting, dreaming, listening-to-Spirit season.
   • Where you’re checking in with yourself, asking: Is this really what I want? Who am I becoming?
2. And then there’s the action season. Where you try something, test it, and launch it.
   • Where you’re asking yourself: How can I act on my dreams, thoughts, and put things into action?

And if it shifts? You shift too.

It doesn’t have to be this big emotional crash.

You don’t have to make it mean something heavy.

It’s just data.

It’s just feedback.

Like the weather, it changes.

And you change too.

Final Thoughts

Not everyone can escape to Peru—and that’s real. People have families, jobs, caregiving, and financial pressure. I get that.

But I do believe we all need a version of this.

✅ A space to slow down.

✅ A place to get honest with ourselves. Even if it’s 10 minutes a day, in silence

✅ A way to pause, breathe, and hear what life is trying to teach us.

Because the truth is—I’m still figuring it out.

But I’m leaving Pisac with more stability, more trust, and more tools to carry forward.

And I’ll never forget what this place taught me.

So I’ll leave you with this…

• Where in your life do you need to soften your expectations?
• Where do you need more structure—from yourself, not from others?
• And what’s the next small step you can take… today?

Even if it’s raining.

Even if your vision isn’t fully clear.

Even if you’re still figuring it out.

Eat. Sleep. Walk.

And then take the next step.