We recently had the chance to connect with Ayana Butterfly and have shared our conversation below.
Good morning Ayana, we’re so happy to have you here with us and we’d love to explore your story and how you think about life and legacy and so much more. So let’s start with a question we often ask: What battle are you avoiding?
I’ll share a battle I was avoiding and only recently began to face head-on. For a long time, I was caught in emotional patterns that lived beneath the surface—unseen but powerful. There was a strange comfort in holding onto pain, in acting from a place of mistrust and fear. But eventually, I reached a point where I couldn’t keep living like that.
I began doing shadow work, and that changed everything. I started peeling back the layers, uncovering the hidden beliefs that were running the show. And once they were brought into the light, they started to lose their grip on me. It’s not a one-time fix—these patterns still return—but now they come back with less intensity, and I meet them with more compassion and awareness.
I’ve started dedicating myself to peace—not as something that exists externally, but as a practice that begins within. I’m still in the thick of it, still doing the work, but I’m beginning to see and feel more clearly. I’m reconnecting with parts of myself I thought I’d lost. And as that inner work deepens, it’s starting to show up in my outer world, too.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi, I’m Ayana! I’m an R&B singer-songwriter with a deep love for storytelling through music. I just wrapped up my debut album, which I’m hoping to release later this year. In addition to my own work, I also write and record for other artists, which allows me to explore different sounds and perspectives while staying grounded in what I love most: honest, soulful expression.
Beyond the studio, I’m passionate about building community for independent artists. I run Events and Marketing at HITMKR, a Los Angeles–based music tech company that empowers artists with the tools, ownership, and support they need to thrive independently. I also host monthly events that give these artists a platform to connect, collaborate, and grow.
I also work in Operations at Companion Arts, the company behind the Soul Boom podcast hosted by Rainn Wilson. It’s a project rooted in meaningful conversation and spiritual curiosity, and I feel incredibly lucky to be part of something that’s expanding the way we think about healing and connection.
Whether it’s through music, events, or behind-the-scenes support, I’m committed to creating spaces—both sonic and physical—where people feel inspired, safe, and seen.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. Who taught you the most about work?
My younger brother, Dyami. Watching him has completely redefined the way I think about passion, discipline, and dedication. He’s an incredibly gifted producer, engineer, and rapper—but what inspires me most is how deeply he commits to his craft. He eats, breathes, and sleeps music, yet still finds time to read, pray, work out, and cook nourishing meals for himself.
His work ethic is unmatched. There’s truly nothing he can’t do when he sets his mind to it. At times, I even think he works to a fault—I wish he’d give himself more space to rest and just be. But witnessing his level of focus and integrity has shaped the way I show up in my own work, and I’m endlessly proud to be his sister.
When you were sad or scared as a child, what helped?
When I was sad or scared as a child, I used to imagine my older self sitting beside me—calm, wise, and full of love. She’d tell me how beautifully life turned out, how grateful she was that we persevered, and how proud she was of me for believing in something better. She’d hug me, remind me that everything was going to be okay, and her presence always made me feel safe, loved, and hopeful for the future.
As an adult doing shadow work, I’ve come to realize that the woman I am today was the one holding that little girl. And now, I get to return the favor. I go back to her in those memories and let her know she doesn’t have to be scared anymore. She can soften. She doesn’t need to control everything to stay safe. I thank her for being so vigilant, for protecting us the best she could—and I let her know she can finally rest.
Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? What would your closest friends say really matters to you?
My closest friends would probably say that my health—on every level—really matters to me. That’s most visible in how I care for my physical body: I do Pilates daily, my first meal of the day is always a salad, I’ve been pescatarian for most of my life, gluten-free for six years, and grain-free for the last six months. I eat very little sugar, rarely eat out, and take a lot of supplements.
But that discipline comes from experience. I’ve gone through long stretches where I didn’t have my health—where I was stuck in bed for weeks, dealing with fatigue, inflammation, and a general sense of disconnection from my body. So now, few things feel more sacred to me than waking up, going for a jog, and feeling strong and clear.
That same care extends to my mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being. They’re all intertwined. I work hard to stay present—I’m currently reading The Power of Now for the second time—and I make time for therapy, meditation, daily prayer, and deep reflection. It’s all part of the same commitment: to live fully, consciously, and with intention.
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?
I hope people remember the little moments. The way I handed out baked goods with handwritten notes to neighbors, cashiers, the homeless, and anyone who looked like they could use a reminder that they mattered. The way I tried to beautify every space I entered. The way I connected with children across the world, or the way my eyes glimmered when I saw a butterfly, or carefully rescued bees from the pool and beetles from the sidewalk.
I hope people remember the quiet care—notes left on bathroom mirrors, surprise meals for loved ones, the thoughtfulness behind birthday surprises and spontaneous kindness. I hope they remember how hard I worked to grow and heal myself, not just for me, but so I wouldn’t hurt others with my unhealed pain. That even when I was a mess, I was always trying to be better.
I hope they say I was someone who made people feel safe. That I listened. That I saw people—really saw them—and honored what they were going through. That I held people together when things were falling apart. That I loved, fully and endlessly, even when it broke me.
And I hope they smile when they remember the way I smiled at strangers or struck up conversations in grocery store lines—always trying to find connection, always trying to offer a little more warmth to the world.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://open.spotify.com/artist/6UnQHtz1PIR6VAODweRyHH?si=pdSO7kLrQnm7-lMDeS4ngQ
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ayana_butterfly/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ayana.douglas.50/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC4ApWKM_kQtG9rh9Mp90sDw
Image Credits
Alejandro Alfonso
Oje
Razi Wilson
