Born Sara · Known as Sarita · Becoming Rasa
I walk with people through the passages
that change everything.
Rasa · rasadevi.co
About
Rasa is a Sanskrit word. Juice. Taste. The flavor and character of a life fully lived — erotic, comic, compassionate, furious, heroic, sorrowful, terrifying, wonderful, peaceful. All of it. (Lorin Roche)
The name came to me last year during Krishna's Janmashtami. To be called Rasa. Because I have tasted the juice of this life. Because I resonate deeply with the Rasa Leela — that sacred dance, that play of devotion, that encounter between the soul and the divine that leaves nothing untouched.
I was born Sara, named after my grandmother. My family and Spanish-speaking community have always called me Sarita. Now I am stepping into Rasa — as the elder I am becoming in this community, as someone who has spent sixteen years in Ayurveda, in shastra and Vedic philosophy, in the Devi and Shakti traditions, in birth work and death work, in ceremony and ritual. These are not separate paths. They are one life, deeply lived.
I am a ritualist. A ceremonialist. My maternal lineage runs through Nicaragua and Guatemala. My father's lineage is Cuban. And I carry a deep connection to the indigenous lands across all of Hispanic America — not only the diaspora, but the actual territories, the living peoples, the ancestral knowledge that has always been there. That belonging is not bounded by borders. I am savoring the juice of this life. That is what I offer.
Lineages I draw from
I have been in the birth room and the death room. I have built altars and held vigils and sat with what cannot be named. This is not what I do. It is who I am.
— RasaThe Work
Birth and death are the same gate from different sides. Devi presides over both. Everything I offer lives inside that understanding.
I show up. In hospitals, at home, in the in-between. Full-spectrum birth support for mothers and birthing people — Ayurvedic, ancestral, bilingual. I've been in the room when everything changes. I know how to hold what that asks for.
Learn MoreSixteen years of being in the room — hospitals, homes, the liminal spaces nobody trains you for. This mentorship is for the doulas and death workers who hold everyone else and have nowhere to put what they carry. Not a certification. A container.
Join the WaitlistDeath is as sacred as birth. It asks the same quality of presence. I learned this sitting with my grandparents as they died. I learned it again with Zen, my dog of fourteen and a half years, and the ceremony I built for his crossing. What I carried then, I now offer to others.
Learn MoreEvery major passage in a woman's life was once held in ceremony. Menarche. Birth. Matrescence. The wisdom years. We were severed from those rites. I'm building the container to return them — rooted in the Dasha Mahavidyas, Ayurveda, and the ancestral lineages I come from.
Join the WaitlistSacred Initiation
My grandmother thumbed her rosary every morning. She wasn't reciting. She was communing. She held a thread I didn't find until I was deep in the roots. This work is for the women still looking for that thread.
The First Blood
Menarche is not a medical event. It is the body announcing herself. This passage was once held in ceremony across every culture. Now it arrives with silence or a box of tampons. The ceremony it deserves still exists. It lives in the lineage.
Birth & Matrescence
Birth is initiation. And matrescence — the metamorphosis that begins the moment a child enters the world — is rarely named or held. She is not the same woman. She was never meant to be. Someone should say that out loud.
The Wisdom Years
Perimenopause and menopause are not decline. They are the arrival of the woman who knows. The elder. She who no longer bleeds outward holds her blood as wisdom within. This is not loss. This is the seat of power.
What Was Severed
Colonization, migration, assimilation — these severed women from their rites. Many of us were the first born on unfamiliar soil, inheriting belonging and rootlessness at once. The bridge back exists. It is built from what survived and the willingness to remember.
The Final Crossing
I've sat with the dying. My grandparents. My dog. The families who call me in the middle of the night. Death asks the same quality of presence as birth. I know how to hold the space, build the altar, stay through the end.
Womb Wisdom & Remembrance
Ayurveda teaches that the body carries memory — cellular, ancestral, karmic. The womb especially. Symptoms are signals. Cycles are teachers. The body is not broken. It never was. It has been waiting for someone to say so.
The container for women's initiatory work is in formation — circles, ceremonies, Devi teachings, and the Devi Deck. Be the first to know when it opens.
Join the WaitlistWritings
I write from inside the work. Not about it. From Devi, from the altar, from the birth room and the death room and everything in between.
Cumin, coriander, and fennel — three seeds that together form one of Ayurveda's most powerful digestive tonics. A simple daily ritual from the Charaka tradition.
Read Essay
Ginger, black pepper, and long pepper: Ayurveda's most warming formula. For digestion, circulation, and the cold that settles in the bones.
Read Essay
A fast, nourishing Ayurvedic breakfast — turmeric, warming spices, plant protein. Built to build ojas and start the day with fire and clarity.
Read EssayBegin Here
You don't need to have it figured out. You only need to reach. Whether you're a mother seeking support, a doula seeking mentorship, a woman walking her initiation, or a family holding a beloved through death — I'm in touch within 24–48 hours.