The Soul Medicine Sanctuary of Longmont
A home retreat and education center for embodied wholeness.
Most of us carry a quiet ache we rarely say out loud, a sense that we belong somewhere we have not yet found. Soul Medicine Sanctuary was made for that longing. The Soul Medicine Sanctuary is a home opened as a gathering place, where people come to slow down, return to the body, and do the tender, spacious work of remembering who they are.
What this place is
Tucked into the lower level of my home in Longmont, Colorado, the Sanctuary is a space cradled by the earth. Quiet, grounded, a little apart from the noise of the world above. You come down, and in.
It is many things at once: a circle room and a classroom, a place of ceremony and a place of rest, a refuge and a room full of song. On any given week it might hold a sound healing, a workshop, a small retreat, an evening of ceremonial tea, or another facilitator’s beautiful work. One space, many uses, all in service of the medicine of that remembering. However you arrive, whether for something I am holding, something a trusted collaborator is offering, or to use the space for your own work, you step into the same intention: a place set apart for depth, care, and real presence.
How it came to be
I’ve been in the healing professions for about as long as I can remember as a yoga & meditation teacher and later in my work as a spiritual doula and somatic psychotherapist. I used to say that everything I worked with could be distilled down to some version of trauma. After many years, a bigger and broader truth revealed itself. What I was really meeting, almost always, was disconnection. Disconnection from ourselves, from one another, from community, from family, and from the Bigger Something. And that disconnection, for humans whose primary need is for connection, is its own kind of trauma.
And I have known this place of disconnection so profoundly in my own experience. I come from an extensive trauma history, and after so much healing work, there was one wound that was incredibly pernicious, loneliness and longing to belong. These were things I couldn’t heal on my own. They had to heal in the repair of community. So we have our own individual experiences of belonging and then we add the cultural legacy many of us carry in Western societies…hyperindividualism, excessive social media, progress before people…We walk by one another looking at our phones. We have lives that are so busy we don’t feel we have time to really just be with others, or get involved in communities that might nuture our need for connection. If we want something different, we have to make something different, and we have to relearn how to be in community with one another.
And that’s how this came about. I had a small townhouse in Lafayette, which wasn’t large enough for the vision that was calling to me. So I purchased this place in late 2024 and was in renovations until May 2026. And here we are today, a space, a sanctuary, cultivated from love to bring others into loving relationships with themSelves and the world around them.
Soul Medicine & Embodied Wholeness
I use the word medicine deliberately, and far more widely than we are usually taught. For one person the medicine is plant medicine. For another it is nutrition, or movement, or song, or the stillness of a tea ceremony. There are countless ways home, and medicine is simply whatever carries us there.
And the soul, I have come to believe, is not the part of us that needs healing. The soul is what stayed whole all along, beneath the wounding and the forgetting. So soul medicine is not medicine for a broken soul. It is the medicine that comes from the soul and returns us to it, closing the distance between who we have become and who we have always been.
Coming home to our Selves this way is never a solitary act. To come home to yourself is to come back into relationship: with community, with the trees and the creatures, with the water that keeps us alive, with the whole living world we belong to and the Bigger Something that holds it all.
This is what I mean by embodied wholeness. So much of spirituality points us toward rising above the human experience. I believe we are here to live all the way into it. The body is not something to transcend. It holds wisdom, and it is the only place any of this can actually happen on this plane of existence. Wholeness is not something we have to go looking for. It is who we already are. The work is a return, integrating and releasing what was placed on us along the way, the trauma, the inherited beliefs, the burdens that were never ours, until what remains is simply us, at home in our own skin and in the world.
Ways to gather here
The Sanctuary holds many kinds of gathering. A few of the ways it comes alive:
- Ceremony and ritual: cacao ceremonies, rites of passage, eldering rituals, tea ceremony, and seasonal or full moon gatherings.
- Sound and music: sound baths and sound healing, song circles, devotional chanting (kirtan), house concerts, and intimate music events.
- Movement and practice: yoga, breathwork, meditation, and dance.
- Learning and workshops: classes, trainings, and skill shares.
- Community gatherings: authentic relating, women’s and men’s circles, shared meals, and evenings simply spent in each other’s company.
- Retreat and rest: small group retreats and overnight stays.
- A home for other facilitators: a space aligned practitioners can rent to hold their own soul centered work.
- Private and personal use: rent the space for something of your own, a family reunion, a private group, or a personal retreat and time away.
And this is only a beginning. If you can imagine gathering for it here, let us talk.
Who holds the space: Sabrina Santa Clara
I am Sabrina Santa Clara, and I have walked a spiritual path for more than forty years. Trained as a somatic psychotherapist, I now work as a spiritual doula, weaving neoshamanic Internal Family Systems (IFS), parts work, ceremony, ritual, and rites of passage into the slow, careful work of helping people come home to themselves. The Sanctuary is the companion to my practice, Interweaving Journeys where you can find more of that story and the ways we might walk together, including private individual retreats.
This place is never held by me alone. A circle of trusted collaborators brings their own gifts and lineages here, so the Sanctuary is always more than any one person’s vision. And then there is Gabby, the house dog, who will bark at you like you are the most dangerous person ever to approach the door, and then, about thirty seconds later, decide you are family.
An invitation
However you have arrived here, curious, tender, or ready for something to shift, there is room for you. Come sit in a circle, rest for a weekend, or bring your own work into the space. When something in you says yes, reach out and tell me what you are looking for.

