I’m not against psychedelics. I’m not against psychotherapy. I studied psychology. I know what they do. They open the mind.

They break the seal of the mind. But not the heart.

Mind and heart are two different worlds. Not many people have the luck to live where mind and heart meet. Psychotherapy doesn’t do that miracle. Ayahuasca—very rarely. They show things and expose wounds. They let you see a little. Not enough to wake the blood of the heart.

They tell you what is wrong, what is good. Like a cold manual of life. If you don’t work after—real work, slow work—nothing changes. Psychotherapy is a system: patterns, names, explanations. Useful, but living in the mind. And the mind is a story machine. It talks. It defends. The soul is not there. And psychedelics bring messages. They don’t stay to clean the house.

Real healing I didn’t find in sessions or ayahuasca ceremonies. I found it in my grandmother’s kitchen.

When she killed a chicken, she didn’t rush. She didn’t look away. She stayed. She said, “May your gods be kind to you.” Not like a prayer. Like truth. When the water was boiling, she tapped the chicken three times on the body and said, “Thank you for being.”

That was it. No drama. No philosophy. Life taken. Life continued. That moment carried more truth than all the words people sell today.

Her soup smelled of garlic, parsley, fat. It smelled like home. No ritual. No money. No promises. You ate it and your body calmed down. You felt held.

That’s what she knew without thinking: healing is simple. It’s care that shows up. Hands that feed. Silence that doesn’t judge. A bowl of soup. A hug without advice. A thank you said straight. No drug can replace that. No guru either.

After ten years working professionally with people as a healer, this is what I know: the heart wants little. The mind wants always more. The mind wants systems, answers, methods. It wants to fix, to win, to explain pain away.

Healing isn’t only about letting go or shutting down the mind. It’s far more than that. It’s a quiet conversation in silence — closing the eyes and touching the heart A hot cup of soup. Someone staying instead of talking. Your silence. Your beat.

Without simple love, people stay stuck. The mind holds hate—sometimes loud, sometimes hidden. The heart holds love. When the mind steps aside, love is already there. Nothing new. Nothing fancy.

So when life feels broken, maybe don’t run to ayahuasca retreats or get pills from your pharmacist. Forget the buzzwords. Forget other people’s healing stories breathing within you. The cure might be closer — on the stove, waiting.

Simple. Honest. Old.

The heart wants love. The soul wants closure. And the mind wants peace.Wake the heart’s blood. Awaken what the soul remembers. Deep down, you already know what’s best for you.

Close your eyes. Touch your heart. Then breathe in the chicken soup, cooked with love.