My work is about engaging with all parts of you—the parts that feel lost, stuck, or out of reach—and finding ways to let them speak. I work at the intersection of reason and resonance—where science and psyche, music and movement, nature and language, all speak to each other. This is a space where your intellect is welcome, your body is heard, and your soul is given the dance floor.

Spirituality with Teeth and Roots

I believe in a spirituality with teeth and roots—not a sanitized lightness that floats above suffering, but a grounded, embodied reverence that can hold both grief and growth, chaos and calm.

Nature is not only soft moss and birdsong—it is wildfire and compost, ant piles and tsunamis. Sacredness includes decay. Wholeness includes rupture.
We don’t bypass the hard stuff here—we move with it.

My Work Is:

• Transpersonal: Oriented toward what is soulful, symbolic, ancestral, with and beyond the ego

• Non-dualistic: Bringing complexity to either/or thinking. Honoring both mystery and measurement, shadow and light

• Non-bypassing: Healing is not a detour around pain. We walk through it, with love and clarity

• Ecological: Your healing is not separate from the world—it is woven into a living system

• Embodied: We bring the body back into the conversation. Strength, voice, movement, breath—they’re not add-ons. They’re central

• Rooted in Shared Reality: I speak to the seeker and the skeptic. I honor the science and the symbols. I trust what’s felt and what’s known

How I Work

My work is deeply informed by transpersonal and psychodynamic traditions—approaches that hold the psyche as something layered, symbolic, and interconnected. These traditions understand that we are more than our symptoms or stories. They invite us to listen inward, downward, and outward—to dreams, to ancestors, to the unconscious, to the archetypal, to the soul.

I also work with Gestalt, parts work, and psychodrama, which means therapy is sometimes verbal and reflective—and sometimes expressive, embodied, even theatrical.

You might speak to a part of yourself you’ve long ignored.
You might stand up and move through a story and tell it.
We give voice to what’s been silent.
We let movement be medicine. We let words become spells.

I’m also guided by the old symbolic maps of transformation—especially the language of alchemy. Not in the literal myth of turning lead into gold, but in the recognition that healing itself is elemental, cyclical, and alive. Alchemy reminds us that real change often begins with breakdown, confusion, and shadow. That clarity is something we distill. That integration is a burning process, not a checklist.
We move through phases that mirror nature and the psyche:

• The blackening — when we fall apart or go numb

• The whitening — when truth begins to emerge

• The yellowing — when clarity ripens into insight

• The reddening — when we return with fire, voice, and form

Healing, as I see it, doesn’t follow a straight line.
It spirals. It darkens. It flares. It quiets.
And it transforms.

This is a Practice of Remembering

Not just who you are—
but how many ways there are to be whole.

And not just remembering, but transforming—
through dark and light, silence and song, science and soul.