10/15/2025
I’d like to share a very special healing ritual I recently completed that has gently and tenderly supported me along my path. One you can do yourself, should it resonate.
I call this ritual Piece by Piece.
For this ritual, I bought a simple Peruvian cacao bar. Nothing fancy or expensive. In fact, it came from Trader Joe’s. That’s part of what made it beautiful. Healing doesn’t always need elaborate ceremonies or rare ingredients. Sometimes, the most powerful medicine is found in presence and simplicity.
Healing often unfolds in layers. Sometimes it arrives piece by piece, not all at once or in a single moment of clarity, but through small openings that reveal themselves over time. I’ve often wished healing would come quickly, that everything heavy could just melt away. But true healing takes time, especially when we’re mending entire lineages of wounds and allowing tears we never cried to finally fall.
Each night before bed, I went into my meditation room. I would light a candle in front of my mirror, break off a single square of cacao, place it on my tongue, and drum a slow heartbeat rhythm as it softened. I set the intention to reclaim lost parts of myself—the fragments I had left scattered across time. I opened my heart to feel the emotions I once couldn’t, the ones I numbed to stay safe. Within that small space, surrounded by the love I had poured into those walls, I could finally feel.
Finishing all eight pieces wasn’t easy. Some tasted like bitter abandonment, and the moment I placed them on my tongue, I would cry. Others were sweet, filled with empowerment, forgiveness, and release.
Slowly, I consumed the entire bar, honoring each piece as a small ceremony of its own. Every night felt a little different. Some evenings, I could feel my heart expanding with gratitude, as if the cacao itself carried the memory of the sun. Other nights, I felt the heaviness of grief moving through my body, ancient and familiar, as though I was tasting the sorrow of generations who never had the space to heal.
By the time I reached the final piece, something within me had shifted.
When I finished the last square, I didn’t feel an ending. I felt a quiet beginning. A newly found softness returned to me, along with a deep trust in my own process. Healing, I learned, is not a destination. It is a relationship with ourselves that deepens over time. The cacao bar simply reminded me to slow down enough to taste it.
It’s important to honor our own healing process and to remember that it unfolds in its own time. True healing is not something we can rush, force, or schedule. It moves in cycles. It's expanding and contracting, revealing and retreating, just like nature itself. Some days we may feel light and open, and other days we may feel as though we’ve taken a step backward. Both are part of the process. Each emotion, memory, and moment of stillness serves a purpose in our growth. When we allow ourselves patience and compassion, we create the safety needed for deeper healing to emerge. Transformation rarely happens overnight; it happens through small, steady acts of courage, trust, and self-love.
