Robin Payton Payne
Born in South Dakota, with growing up years in Southern Maryland tobacco country along the Patuxent River, I spent most of my time in the woods. My earliest job was antique refinishing, floral design, and staging which quickly turned to Clearing services for residential spaces.
My college years were 1980-1984, during which time I received a Bachelor's Degree in Interior Design with a minor in Historic Preservation. The space planning classes absorbed me. They were foundational, and forty years later, the principles still apply to almost every aspect of my life. After college, I continued with Clearing and Staging services but with a heavy dose of custom design/build residential interiors in McLean, Virginia.
​
If I had to choose a word or phrase to describe my many paths and how I arrived at this career, it would be “placement.” I intuitively seek alignment for the movement of positive energy within a space, person, or group of people.
​
In 1993, after seeing clients respond positively to "placement," I began training for Cranial Sacral Therapy (CST) in Washington, D.C., to better understand the movement of the healing energy within.​ This was an Aha moment for me, and paired with the comfort I felt exploring Indigenous healing modalities, my path began to take shape. In particular, I am drawn to Aboriginal and Siberian beliefs. ​ My first remote healing request was in the early 1990's for a young girl in Portugal - I was shocked to be asked but still, that moment helped shape my path.
​
In 2016, I had the opportunity to begin immersing myself in the ancient spiritual Q'ero tradition of the Andes. Trainings were under Chris Krohn, Don Oscar Miro-Quesada, Joan Wilcox, and Jose Luis Herrera.
​
A love for living the old ways runs in the family, and if I wanted to be true to myself, I had to leave the suburbs of Virginia. So, in 2003, we left for North Carolina to experience island living on the Coast. A wonderful experience, but I needed open spaces with trees and dirt. In 2006, I found it in eastern North Carolina. An empty 4-room, Carolina farmhouse with no running water, insulation, or neighbors. I got out of my car this late October afternoon, and the moment I stepped into the yard, the scent of pine and broom hit me. I "heard" my mother's favorite poem, "Fairy Bread," by Robert Louis Stevenson, and smelled the South Dakota pine. Perfect. No turning back.
