
Cacao Ceremonies · Real Food Private Chef · Nourishing Yoga
Sol Luciana came to Mexico following a dream and stayed for a feeling of home. On the coast of Bahía de Banderas, she feeds people through real food and ceremonial cacao, and insists she is only the host.
Sol Luciana didn’t plan to stay in Mexico. A few years ago she set out to backpack through the Americas, moving from community to community to understand the bond between native foods and the people who grow them. Mexico was meant to be the last stop before she went home.
Then, in Peru, came a conversation at a bar with a group of Mexicans. Afterward, a dream. Then several. Each left her with the same urgent sense: she needed to get to Mexico. She bought a ticket almost immediately and rearranged everything else she had planned.
Nothing about it was planned, she says, and yet it felt as though it had been.

What surprised her first was how familiar it all felt. She recognized echoes of the north of her own country and of Bolivia, especially in the corn. The grain that had drawn her across a continent was waiting for her here too, at the center of the table.
She eventually settled in Sayulita, and something shifted. She found a feeling of home she had never felt anywhere else. What made her stay, she says simply, was life itself.
Today she lives in Higuera Blanca, in Bahía de Banderas, deliberately far from the road and from the crowds. Mexico taught her, she says, that home is everywhere, because home lives within you.
“It doesn’t intrigue me, it captivates me.”
That’s how Sol describes Mexican wellness culture. It feels alive to her, sometimes a little intense, and she loves how visible it all is. On this stretch of the Pacific, she’s found, nearly everyone is engaged in some kind of spiritual practice, whether or not they call it that. When neighbors talk and trade ideas, they tend to arrive at the same place: spirituality is alive in everything. It’s part of the magic of choosing to live this way.
Sol works with cacao from the Maya Yokot’an community and with the shamanic drum, and she has learned and received a great deal from both. But she is careful about how she describes her role. Out of respect, she says, she doesn’t believe she does healing.
She sees herself instead as someone who offers tools, who points to the entrance of a path that each person can only walk for themselves. An invitation, she calls it. Perhaps she is a host.
The distinction matters to her because she has watched what happens when it gets lost. In her view, the West tends to mix everything together, chase immediacy, and look outside itself for answers. Searching for a “healer” in a facilitator hands away our own responsibility and can lead to abuse of the tool. The spirits of the plants and our guides are always willing to accompany us, she says. What matters far more is our own decision, consistency and openness.

Her way of sharing is completely modern, she adds, with an invitation toward the ancestral. She would never claim to offer something ancestral, even though she walks with an ancient Indigenous worldview and embraces it.

A session with Sol begins with warmth. She creates a comfortable, familiar space, and she likes to hug the person she is serving and have a real conversation. Together they build an altar, talking gently about the spirit of the plants and the people who keep them.
The tools she returns to are disarmingly human: eye contact, feeling her own body, her voice, her hands, and drawing people into some part of the ritual themselves. Most people leave with an open heart, grounded and calm. Many, she says, leave remembering that they can trust life, and smiling.
What she sees most often after one of her cacao ceremonies is self-confidence, a new lightness, and a feeling of being grounded. Also surprise: at how simple some things turn out to be, and at the wonder that simplicity can bring.
“I feed the soul with good and real stuff.”
That line covers both halves of her work. Alongside her cacao ceremonies, Sol trained as a nutritionist and works as a chef, cooking what she calls Ritual Real Cuisine for homes, celebrations and retreats. Whole food, homemade and seasonal, made with the same attention she brings to an altar. Her favorite days often begin with retreat catering: up long before dawn, so that by the time breakfast is served she feels she has already lived a whole day.
The part people sometimes miss, she says, is the depth beneath it all. A seed holds a whole living, vast universe, and so does the human body. On social media that can be hard to see. But once people have the experience, she finds, any confusion dissolves and the message comes through.

Sol’s philosophy is short and hard-won. Wellness has to feel real inside you, without too much explanation. It takes humility to surrender to unlearning, again and again. And wonder is essential.
The people who get the most from her work are the ones who feel called to open their hearts. They want something real and alive, without recipes or complicated methods. They’re open to discovering that suffering doesn’t have to be the only path to healing. They want a world with fewer protocols, and they believe, or at least suspect, that magic is in everything.
Her own care is rooted in the same simplicity: real, local food, natural products at home, dim light and little noise in the evenings, because she is a sensitive person. She moves every day, goes to the ocean almost every day, spends as many hours as she can in natural sunlight, and goes barefoot whenever she can. Living here, she says, has also changed how she values her money, her time and her energy.

Her ideal day starts very early, while the sky is still cloudy, which she loves. By the time she paddles out to surf, the sun has come up. She treasures the silence and the birdsong of the morning, which is why she lives where she does. The day unfolds slowly with the light, built around something that motivates her, and ends with the sunset over the ocean, even if she’s working. That happens often, she says, and she thanks God for it.
When friends visit, she sends them to Patzcuaritos, with strict instructions to drink a fresh coconut. As for where to eat? Her own table, of course.
Right now she’s exploring wild edibles, studying edible and natural skincare, and listening to Radio Semilla, a podcast by seed guardians in Ecuador. Her hope for the wellness community here is that it grows toward sustainability and toward protecting the land we live on.
And what should someone experience before they leave Mexico? She laughs. Mexico itself.
One afternoon at home, she was talking to her lemon tree. It was then, she says, that she understood she couldn’t do any other work. The format may change. The work stays the same.

Sol Luciana offers group cacao ceremonies, private cacao channeling, real food private chef services, cooking workshops and Nourishing Yoga classes in Sayulita and around Bahía de Banderas.
Find Sol Luciana on the EnForma Wellness platform and book a session through the EnForma app.
Explore more practitioners in our Sayulita ceremony facilitators directory
EnForma was born in Mexico. Not inspired by it, not transplanted here — born here, in the salt air and slow mornings and something harder to name that this country does to the people who stay. Raíces is our way of introducing you to the people who know that feeling best: the practitioners who came to Mexico and never left, who built their practices here, who found in this land a deeper expression of the work they were already called to do. Each post in this series is a conversation — about healing, about Mexico, about what it means to root yourself somewhere and let that place change you.