We recently had the chance to connect with Iman Kamel and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Iman, thank you so much for joining us today. We’re thrilled to learn more about your journey, values and what you are currently working on. Let’s start with an ice breaker: When was the last time you felt true joy?
True joy came when I welcomed a circle of women seekers to the island—pilgrims carrying their own her-stories, their own fire. We walked together to the Dragon Rocks, where the stones hum with old memory, and sat beneath the wide arms of the mango trees on my private bay of the Nile.
We moved through deep sessions, each of us tracing the lines of our own lives reflected in the river’s light. The air carried the scent of earth and water, and the horizon touched the islands of Heissa and Ajilika.
We ate a nourishing meal above the islands, laughter and silence entwined, each moment a current passing through the body and the spirit.
It was a joy that filled the marrow—like the mother giving, from her wisdom and her milk, without measure, without hesitation. A joy that remembered itself across lifetimes.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am Ima.
A woman shaped by six decades of story, skin, rupture, and return.
I live now in Nubia, at the edge of the Nile where the wind shifts differently—
where dawn rises through the ancient Isis Gate and you feel the old intelligence breathing.
Nothing here is metaphor. The land is alive. And it remembers me.
My work is called The Holographic Being, though it is less a brand and more a living organism.
It carries the echoes of the Egyptian Neteru, the precision of Seshat,
the disruptive humour of shamanic play,
and the quiet, unwavering truth-telling that comes when a life has been burnt down and reborn more times than is reasonable.
I operate at the intersection of the simple and the impossible.:
I enter the Akashic Field and see a person’s life as a moving hologram—
across past, present, parallel, and the futures they haven’t yet dared to claim.
These are my Akashic Visionary Readings,
a new wave of sight that opened fully once I placed my feet in this Nubian sand.
I call it a remembrance rather than a service.
People come to me when their story breaks open—
when they sense a larger truth pulling them forward and need someone who can read the threads without flinching.
My book, Quantum Leaps and Lost Socks, is the doorway into this world.
My group program, The Lotus-Born Heart, is its heartbeat.
And everything I create now—every reading, every filmic transmission, every teaching—
is part of the greater work:
helping human beings reclaim the map of their own unfolding.
I am here to invite you back to the place where your future is already written,
waiting for you to step into it with both feet on the ground
and a wild, unshakable heart.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
Before the world arrived with its labels and its tidy boxes, I was a barefoot creature of thresholds—half feral, half holy. A child who spoke to the wind as if it were an elder, who followed shadows on the ground because I understood they were maps of something larger. I remember walking alone through fields, feeling an intelligence move through my ribs, a quiet insistence that I was meant to *see* differently.
Back then, I believed I came from somewhere the adults had forgotten.
Not heaven. Not myth.
A place that existed in the cracks between moments—
the same place where the Akashic Field hums now under my skin.
The world tried to tidy me, tame me, instruct me.
It told me to be reasonable, containable, soft-edged.
But the child I was refused extinction; she only went underground, watching, waiting.
She knew things I had to forget in order to survive:
that time is porous,
that memory is a living creature,
that truth arrives in images long before it arrives in words.
Who I was then is who I have become again—
a woman who remembers the language of her own origins,
who walks the earth with the same barefoot knowing,
no longer apologizing for the wild clarity that has followed me
all the way to the Isis Gate.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering was the teacher I never wanted and the one who refused to leave until I let her rearrange the architecture of my life. Success can make you shiny, but suffering makes you honest. It strips you of every disguise, every inherited identity, every performance you once believed was necessary for love or belonging.
My deepest wounds—the illness that brought me to my knees, the betrayals that cracked my ribs open, the long winter where my creativity went silent—taught me a truth that success never whispers:
that the soul does not break, it *molts*.
Suffering showed me the parts of myself that were never truly mine—
the pleaser,
the good girl,
the one who worked herself into collapse believing endurance was a form of worth.
Pain taught me to stop begging for permission to exist.
It taught me that the body remembers what the mind denies.
It taught me that collapse is often the doorway to a different future timeline.
And most of all, it taught me how to see.
Suffering sharpened my inner vision until I could read the hologram of a life—my own, and later, the lives of others—without turning away.
Success never could have given me that.
Only the night teaches you how to navigate by your own fire.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I am here for one thing, and I no longer say it softly:
“to bring Eden back to Earth.”
This isn’t a metaphor.
Not a poetic flourish.
Not a spiritual slogan stitched together for interviews.
It is the vow I made long before this lifetime—
and the vow I nearly died with still locked inside my chest.
When I was a hair away from leaving this world, they—
the Ones who walk with me, the Ones who have no need for names—
reached into my unraveling body and pulled me back with a single, unignorable message:
“Your mission is not complete.
Return.
Eden is waiting to be restored through you.”
So I did.
I returned.
With lungs that burned, bones that shook, and a heart that knew it had been rewritten.
Bringing Eden back is not about utopia.
It is about remembering the original architecture of human wholeness—
the way we were designed before fear became currency
and fragmentation became culture.
My work—Akashic Visionary sight, the Holographic Being, the Lotus-Born Heart, my book, my life in Nubia—
is not a career.
It is a long devotion to that remembrance.
And I will
Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
When I am gone, I hope the story that travels is simple and alive:
That I was a woman who carried a remembering so old it had its own pulse,
and I allowed it to move through every day of my life.
That I lived as a bridge between worlds—
a living transmitter of the futures that wanted to be born.
I hope they speak of the way I could look into a person
and see the version of them that was waiting behind the veil,
and how I held that vision until they stepped into it with their own breath and bones.
I hope they say my presence restored something ancient in them—
trust in their own knowing,
clarity in their own timeline,
courage to return to their original design.
And if there is a single thread that survives the dissolution of names,
roles, or stories,
let it be this:
She carried Eden in her chest
and placed its seed in every heart she touched.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.holographicbeing.com
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@holographicbeing
so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.
