I was born in Tehran, Iran and grew up in Toronto, Canada. In my early twenties, after studying Psychology in my undergrad, I felt a strong call to move to Spain after having a dream that is simply indescribable – the feeling was so intense that I decided to move without ever having been there! A one-year plan turned into almost a decade of adventure filled with traveling, living, working, and learning new languages. I finally learned to become “independent” after moving to seven different cities across Spain and Germany as I tried to find myself over and over again. It was the adventure I was seeking, but it was not easy as I experienced many moments filled with confusion and loneliness.

As I moved through the countless changes of new locations and new faces, the only constant that remained by my side were my favourite books. I felt a great sense of inner peace whenever I was able to connect to words of wisdom. I remember the comforting words of Eckhart Tolle as I read A New Earth, guiding me to connect to the present moment whenever I felt lost. I remember reading Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist as I sat watching the sunset by the Mediterranean sea after a painful breakup. I remember finishing Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha and crying a river of tears after a long summer bike-ride by the Ruhr River in Germany. I remember reading Khalil Gibran’s “The Prophet” under the Spring moonlight as I was mesmerized by the magic of his poetry. I remember hundreds, if not thousands of moments where I was deeply touched by Rumi’s poetry and wanted to melt into the ecstasy of that moment; Wherever I went, I took my favourite books with me – and I felt at home.

In fact, home is what I had been subconsciously seeking for a very long time – especially since my childhood experience in Iran was disrupted as my parents decided to move us to Canada when I was only 9 years old. I vividly remember my connection with words since a very young age. One of my most precious memories growing up is when I was chosen as the main narrator for a kindergarten play before I could even read – my mom spent hours reciting the play line by line until I had the entire play memorized. Although I was very young, I still remember the opening lines of that play and it means the world to me.

Years later, I came to realize that my search for home was actually a search for an inner feeling. That whenever I was fully present there, I was home! Sacred words are a gateway for me to connect deeply to the present moment. My love for poetry, especially Rumi’s poetry, has touched me in the deepest part of my being. I long to find magical moments where the right line of poetry reveals the mysticism and wisdom of the universe. I find these precious moments spontaneously when I listen to music, or when I walk in nature.

Growing up, poetry had a special place in our home. My father recited poetry from Rumi’s Masnavi and Divan-e-Shams almost every day. While I took it for granted as a teenager, years of self-studying Rumi’s poetry has led me to fully appreciate the profound power of sacred poetry. My Persian background and the poetic legacy of my family lineage linked to Nima Youshij and the time and energy that my mother so lovingly invested in protecting Nima’s legacy by turning his house into a museum, have greatly contributed to a sense of who I am and how I am called to be of service in this world.

My birth name is Banafsheh, meaning Violet in Farsi, but close friends spontaneously gave me the nickname, Bani. Years later, I accidentally crossed paths with a beautiful Hindu woman who shared one of the meanings of the word Bani in Sanskrit (bāṇi (बाणि)) with me, meaning: revealed word. That moment took my breath away. How much louder could the universe possibly speak to me?

It is my life’s purpose to bring you closer to the power of sacred words and it is an honour to dedicate my time and energy to create this space for you.
Blessings to you.