Leavenworth, Washington · Wixárika lineage
KIERI Sanctuary
For those ready to be transformed,
not merely changed.
— Cascade foothills, near Leavenworth, Washington
For those ready to be transformed,
not merely changed.
KIERI Sanctuary rests in the Wenatchee Valley, on the ancestral lands of the P'Squosa and Wenatchi peoples, who have tended these rivers, ridges, and forests since long before this valley was named. We hold our presence here as a guest holds a borrowed room — with care, with quiet, with thanks. The sanctuary carries the name KIERI in honor of the Wixárika lineage Ric was born into, and in steady relation with the land that holds the work.
In the Wixárika language, Kieri is the Tree of the Wind — a teacher kept close by seasoned mara'akate, the Wixárika healers who tend its lineage across generations. The plant itself is not offered here, not depicted, not invoked as imagery. The name is carried instead as a vow: that the work in this sanctuary meets people in their depths, and is not entered lightly or worn as theme.
KIERI Sanctuary is not a psychedelic retreat. It is an earth-based place of repair, gathering, and listening — borrowing the name only as a promise of seriousness, held in reverence to the lineage from which it comes.
The four practices here are not separate offerings. Traditional Wixárika practice — carried forward in relation with elders, with prayer, with the old order of things — sits beside clinical work shaped by twenty-five years with complex and intergenerational trauma.
Somatic, trauma-informed care meets the body where it actually lives, which is outdoors as often as in. The land does its own quiet teaching: forest stewardship, the work of repair, the slow attention required to keep a place alive. Conservation here is not adjacent to healing; it is one of its forms.
What gets called ecotherapy is, in plain language, learning again how to be in relation with what is around you. These threads are braided, not chosen from a menu.
This is slow work, done in relationship to the land and to one another.
KIERI is primarily a sanctuary for tribal community members, Indigenous and migrant agricultural workers, first responders and combat veterans, and those referred by clinicians who already know this ground.
It is for people carrying intergenerational grief, the residue of service, the particular tiredness of working close to other people's hardest days. It is not a retreat for the curious, and it is not a weekend reset.
If you are not sure whether this is for you, that is a useful answer in itself. Most who come are referred by someone who has walked this ground.
Ric Escobedo is a Wixárika (Huichol) descendant who has lived and worked in the Wenatchee Valley since 1989. He is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker with more than twenty-five years of clinical and public-service work in intergenerational and complex trauma, addiction, and culturally responsive mental health — much of it alongside migrant agricultural workers, Indigenous communities, combat veterans, and first responders.
He served on the Washington State Governor's Psilocybin Task Force in 2023, mentors at the Berkeley Center for the Science of Psychedelics, sits on the board of the Wenatchee River Institute, and was named Wenatchee Valley College's 2024 Distinguished Alumni. The credentials matter less than the lineage they sit inside. He works the way he was taught to work — quietly, in relation, with respect for what came before.
"Transformation is where you completely start to think, perceive, and understand and read the world differently. You even walk differently."
Placeholder imagery — to be replaced with Ric's own photographs of the farm, the birds, and the forest.
Twenty-one-plus acres at the edge of the Cascades, in Leavenworth, Washington. KIERI was founded in 2020 as a working regenerative farm and sanctuary. Chickens, peafowl, and pigeons live here — Ric calls it the Feathered Farm, and feathers turn up in the wind often enough to mark the seasons.
Forest stewardship is part of the daily work, including federally-funded fuels reduction in country that knows fire. The kitchen and the longer table hold gatherings like salmon-baking with P'Squosa elders at the Wenatchee Valley Museum. Workaway visitors arrive through the year with skilled hands, helping build, mend, and tend what is here.
None of this is backdrop. The land is the first practitioner here.
The work of the sanctuary moves in four currents.
Individual work begins by clinician referral or by written inquiry. The pace is slow and relational, often longer than people expect when they first reach out. We do not offer drop-in sessions or short stays. What we offer is a steady relationship with a clinician, the land, and the practices that hold both.
Skilled hands are welcomed here to help tend the land, to build, and to learn alongside us. Carpenters, gardeners, foresters, and cooks have all found a place in this work. Those who arrive in service often find that the land returns something quiet to them in turn. Stays are arranged by inquiry and shaped to the season.
We offer earth-based education in partnership with regional schools and tribal communities. The curriculum is rooted in regeneration and in indigenous-led conservation, and is built with the teachers and elders we work alongside. Young people learn by being on the land, in relation with it. Schools and programs interested in collaboration are invited to write.
We collaborate with tribes, clinicians, conservation groups, and public agencies on culturally responsive mental health and land stewardship. These partnerships are long-form and built on trust, not on contracts alone. The work is shaped by the people and places it serves. Inquiries from aligned organizations are received with care.
This is a space for people ready for transformation, not a weekend reset. We work primarily by referral, and most often with those prepared for an ongoing relationship with the land and with the people who tend it.
We are not a retreat resort, a wellness spa, or a drop-in experience, and we ask that you take a moment to feel whether that fits what you are seeking.
Responses are slow on purpose. The pace is part of the work.
Written inquiries are read with care, and the reply may take time. Please write in your own words rather than from a script — a few honest sentences tell us more than a polished letter.