Iboga ceremony in Oregon, USA

This is home ground. I know the land here — Mt. Hood to the coast. The forests, the rivers, the volcanic peaks, the Pacific shoreline. I've walked most of it. There's no other location I hold with this kind of familiarity.

Why Oregon.

Oregon has something the other locations don't: everything at once. Old-growth forest an hour from the ocean. Snow-capped mountains two hours from the high desert. The landscape changes faster here than almost anywhere I've worked. We can match the environment to you without booking a flight.

The forests here are ancient. Douglas fir, western red cedar, moss on everything. Walking into an old-growth grove does something to the nervous system that's hard to explain and impossible to fake. It's the closest thing to being swallowed by nature — enclosed, held, returned to something older than your problems.

The coast is the Pacific, not the Gulf of Thailand. Not soft and warm. Big and cold and powerful. The waves are loud. The wind is real. If you need expansion, the Oregon coast gives it to you — but without the gentleness. It's for people who need to feel something larger than themselves and don't need it to be comfortable.

The mountains — Hood, Jefferson, the Cascades — are volcanic. There's something grounding about standing on a mountain that was once fire. Same perspective as Chiang Mai's mountains, but the geology is different. Rawer. Younger.

Who comes here.

US-based clients who don't want to leave the country. People on the West Coast who already feel connected to this landscape. People who've hiked these forests or surfed this coast and know the Pacific Northwest does something to them they can't name.

Also: people who need the simplicity. No visa, no long flight, no adjusting to a new country's rhythms. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is remove every barrier between you and the work. Oregon does that for Americans.