First through music. Then through the fascinating, occasionally frustrating business of being human.
After years of teaching piano, I've come to believe that expression is something we're born with. But somewhere along the way, many of us begin worrying more about getting things right than discovering what might happen if we simply played.
I've been guilty of that myself. Particularly when it comes to trying to think my way through life's more complicated questions.
That curiosity eventually led me into coaching, depth psychology, and the world of imagination — where I've discovered that some of the most interesting answers don't arrive in words.
And I haven't stopped being curious since.
For a long time, I believed that if I could understand something well enough, I could figure out what to do about it.
And believe me, I could analyze.
I could trace patterns, connect the dots, examine every perspective, and organize even the most complicated emotional experiences into a perfectly reasonable explanation.
The trouble was, I could understand something beautifully and still find myself right back in the middle of it.
At some point, I began to wonder whether all that thinking was actually helping me move forward, or simply giving me more interesting ways to go in circles.
That question led me to explore hypnotherapy.
My first experience surprised me. As I was guided into my imagination, I felt as though some part of me had been waiting for the invitation. What stayed with me wasn't so much the images that appeared, but the feeling of entering a space that belonged entirely to me.
A place where I didn't need to explain myself, defend myself, or have the right answer.
For the first time, I began to feel a sense of agency that I'd previously understood mostly as an idea.
That experience opened a door.
I went on to train in hypnotherapy and Jungian coaching, becoming increasingly fascinated by the ways imagination, symbols, and the body can reveal something our thinking minds haven't quite been able to reach.
And somewhere along the way, I realized that the curiosity I'd spent years bringing to music was finding another place to play.
There's no script for the conversations I have with women.
We might begin with something that's been troubling you for years, or a question that only surfaced yesterday. We might talk, laugh, follow a contradiction, or discover that the thing you thought we were going to explore isn't actually the thing asking for your attention.
I'm interested in the whole person. The woman you've been, the roles you've played, the stories you've carried, and the parts of yourself that may be asking for a little more room.
I don't believe becoming more fully yourself requires rejecting who you've been. Even the patterns that no longer serve you may have once had a very good reason for being there.
Sometimes, we explore these things through conversation. Other times, we move into imagination, where an image, an emotion, or an unexpected character can offer another way of seeing something familiar.
My training in Jungian coaching and hypnotherapy informs the guided, interactive experiences I create, although I don't practice hypnotherapy with clients.
I'm not here to interpret your inner world for you or tell you which parts of yourself need fixing. We explore what emerges together, with curiosity rather than judgment.
And then we bring what you're discovering back into your actual life. Your relationships. Your choices. The way you speak up, set boundaries, pursue what matters, or respond when an old pattern shows up again.
Because the point isn't to leave your history behind.
It's to discover how all of who you are can participate in who you're becoming.
If you're curious about how my mind works, I tend to find the most interesting things in unexpected places.
A box of markers. A familiar feeling of anxiety. An image that appears in my imagination and refuses to explain itself.
I've learned that when I stop trying to make sense of everything immediately, something else often becomes available.
I write about these moments because they're part of how I continue exploring the same questions I bring to my coaching.
A story about doodling, perfectionism, and what happens when we stop trying to control the finished picture.
A more personal exploration of fear, receiving, and the surprising wisdom of an image that emerged when I stopped trying to think my way through something.
If something you've read here has stirred a little recognition, a question, or even a feeling you can't quite put into words, you don't have to know exactly what it means yet.
Sometimes curiosity is enough to begin.
There are different ways we can work together, whether you're looking for a space to explore something personally, connect with other women, or simply slow down and experience the restorative power of sound.
You're welcome to explore what feels right for you.