Meet Felicia Luxama

Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Felicia Luxama. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Felicia, so good to have you with us today. We’ve always been impressed with folks who have a very clear sense of purpose and so maybe we can jump right in and talk about how you found your purpose?

For me, purpose wasn’t something I stumbled upon in a job fair or found written neatly in a journal prompt. It revealed itself like a rhythm; subtle at first, then louder, then undeniable.

I’ve always been an artist. Since I was a little girl, movement, rhythm, and color were my first languages. I danced before I understood grammar. I painted before I could articulate what I was feeling. And while everyone else seemed to grow into structure, I stayed tethered to sensation; to energy.

But the true call toward purpose came through pain; suffering. Through loss. Through silence. I lost a daughter I never got to raise, and in that grief, I was stripped bare. My body, my spirit, my voice all became vessels; empty, trembling, but sacred. That’s when I stopped asking the world for answers and started listening to my soul.

The more I healed, the more I remembered. Not just memories from this lifetime, but wisdom passed down through blood and bone. I began to feel my grandmother’s hands in my own when I brewed teas. I’d hear songs in my dreams that I later realized were ritual chants. I discovered I wasn’t just creative; I was being initiated. My artistry was an altar. My body, a temple. My voice, a portal.

I’m not just an artist. I’m a priestess. A daughter of the sun and sea. A keeper of stories and sacred medicines. I’ve learned that my purpose isn’t one job or title; it’s to be a living bridge between the spiritual and the tangible. To turn pain into poetry. To turn ritual into daily life. To guide others home to themselves through beauty, honesty, and remembrance.

So how did I find my purpose?

I didn’t.

It found me; when I was finally quiet enough, broken enough, honest enough… to remember that I’ve been it all along.

Thanks, so before we move on maybe you can share a bit more about yourself?

Right now, I’m in a sacred building season, rooted in two very intentional callings.

The first is creating an after-school program with the School Board of Broward County that gives students something many of them are starved for: space to express, create, and remember who they are beyond test scores. I want to build a space where creativity isn’t an elective, it’s essential. Where dance, storytelling, movement, sound, and emotion are honored as forms of intelligence. These students are carrying so much, and I want them to have a place to release, to reimagine, and to rebuild themselves through creativity and to be children and have fun.

At the same time, I’m in the early stages of birthing my apothecary, Deyés Alkemie. It’s more than a business; it’s a reclamation. Deyés Alkemie is rooted in ancestral wisdom and spiritual practice. It weaves together holistic medicine, ritual, and artistry; through teas, oils, candles, tinctures, sacred adornments, and healing ceremonies/readings. It’s about remembering that our healing doesn’t have to look sterile. It can smell like lavender and clove. It can move through your hips when you dance. It can come through a bath, a prayer, or a story passed down through generations.

What makes it all special is that none of this is performance for me. It’s lived. Every offering, whether it’s for children or for the collective, comes from the places I’ve had to heal within myself. My work is deeply spiritual, but it’s also very real, very rooted. I’m building bridges, between past and present, between spirit and body, between creativity and wellness. And everything I create honors the truth that healing can be beautiful, ritual can be accessible, and purpose can look like freedom.

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

Looking back, the three most impactful qualities in my journey have been:

1. Emotional Discernment
Learning how to listen to my spirit, beyond the noise of ego, trauma, or urgency; changed everything. Emotional discernment taught me how to feel deeply without drowning. It’s what helped me leave relationships, environments, and even jobs that looked good on paper but felt wrong in my bones. For anyone early on their path, I’d say: don’t rush clarity. Sit with your feelings until they turn into knowing. That’s where your compass lives.

2. Sacred Discipline
A lot of people think creativity and spirituality are wild, uncontained forces and they can be but the real magic comes when you learn how to channel it with intention. I had to train myself to be consistent in my rituals, to commit to healing practices, and to show up for my vision even when no one was clapping. If you’re just starting, fall in love with devotion, not just motivation. Discipline doesn’t kill your magic. It refines it.

3. Ancestral and Holistic Knowledge
Reconnecting with my lineage: Haitian, Puerto Rican, Taino and studying the plants, the prayers, the rhythms of my people gave me back my voice. It reminded me that I am not alone, and that my path is part of something much older and wiser than me. For anyone starting out: learn your roots. Whether it’s through culture, spirit, or nature, your ancestors left blueprints. Don’t be afraid to reclaim them.

My advice? Don’t look for purpose in perfection. Look for it in the quiet patterns, in the things you return to when the world falls away. That’s usually where the gold is buried.

Alright, so before we go we want to ask you to take a moment to reflect and share what you think you would do if you somehow knew you only had a decade of life left?

If I knew I had only one decade left to live, I would spend it fully alive.

Not just breathing but feeling, loving, creating, remembering.

I’d buy land near water, somewhere where the wind carries stories and the soil feels sacred under my bare feet as I ground. I’d build a healing space where the community could gather to dance, to grieve, to pray, to create. I’d turn my apothecary, Deyés Alkemie, into a living sanctuary; where every herb, every candle, every ritual would be an offering, not just a product.

I’d teach children to trust their imaginations more than their test scores. I’d write books that speak in symbols and poems that remember our grandmothers’ tongues. I’d make love slow and often. Cry without apology. Laugh from my belly. Take up space in my body like it was a temple made just for this one wild life.

And most of all?
I’d spend time with the ones I love; on porches, in kitchens, under full moons, dancing till we can’t anymore, reminding them with my presence that heaven was never far away.

It was always right here.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @deyesalkemie
• Other: TikTok: deyesalkemie

Image Credits

All art was created by me. Felicia M. Luxama