Welcome, Pilgrim.

I’ve walked through fire and forest,
through sacred silence and screams that split the sky.

I walk my life like a pilgrimage—
not because I would ever choose this path
but because I trust all these initiations are guiding me for a purpose.

Grief did not ask permission when it arrived at my door.
It came in like a flood, like a thief, like visit from God herself.
And when she took my son—she took the world I once knew.

Isaac.
My boy.
My raison d’etre.
Gone.

They say that when you lose a child, time fractures.
They say you are never the same.
And they are absolutely correct—
But what they don’t say—what they can’t say unless they’ve walked it—is this:

That the grief will carve something new in you.
That the weeping will one day make room for wonder.
That your own body may become both tomb and temple.

This is not a story with a clean beginning or end.
It is a spiral. A heartbeat. A becoming.
It is a homecoming to the body.
To the breath.
To the truth that YOU are still here.

And if you are still here, beloved—
there is still something holy unfolding.

The Language of the Body

I work with the body because the body never lies.
It remembers everything:
The love we held.
The terror we couldn’t name.
The moment we left ourselves behind.
And the quiet, defiant choice to return.

When people come to me, they don’t usually say,
“I want to feel my grief.”
They say:
“I’m stuck.”
“I’m anxious.”
“I’m tired of carrying this.”
And I say:
Let’s listen.
Let’s follow the heat, the ache, the tightening in your chest.
Let’s get curious about the stories your body is still holding onto.

Because here’s the thing:
The mind will loop.
The spirit will ascend.
But the body… the body buries.

Until it’s safe to release.

Embodiment Is Not a Wellness Trend

Embodiment isn’t just movement or mindfulness.
It’s not just breathwork or body scans.

Embodiment is the radical act of coming home—
to your sensations, to your heartbeat,
to the trembling in your legs and the truth in your tears.

It is a sacred reclamation.
A return to dignity.
It’s how we metabolize the charge stored in our stories—
Not by retelling them endlessly,
but by unwinding what got frozen in time.

So often, trauma is not what happened.
It’s what got trapped when there was no one to witness it or to hold it.
No space to process it.
No ground beneath our feet.

This is why I work with somatics.
Because when we invite the body to speak,
we stop trying to fix ourselves,
and we begin to feel ourselves.
That’s when the healing starts.

And The Pilgrimage of a Lifetime begins.

Grief made a pilgrim out of me.
Not just in the poetic sense, but in the literal, dusty, clay stuck on my feet sort of way.

I’ve walked the long road back to myself over and over again.
Through breath. Through prayer. Through movement. Through muck.
Not in search of perfection.
But in devotion to presence.

Pilgrimage isn’t about escaping.
It’s about meeting yourself at the edge.
It’s about walking with what hurts,
what haunts,
what hopes.

And if life is a pilgrimage,
then each day is a step,
each moment a threshold.

Some of us are walking barefoot on burning ground.
Some of us are crawling through our losses.
Some of us are waking up to the possibility that joy might not be betrayal after all.

All of it belongs. All of you is welcome, here.

What I Do With Clients

If you find yourself here—reading these words—it’s likely not by accident.
Maybe you’ve tried talk therapy, self-help books, journaling, spiritual bypassing, even numbing & distracting—
and still something lingers.

The ache in your belly.
The lump in your throat.
The feeling that there’s more to say—without words.

That’s where I come in.

Together, we work in the body, not around it.

We begin where you are.
We breathe.
We feel.
We get curious.

Not to re-traumatize. Not to fix.
But to make contact.
To build capacity.
To liberate the emotional charge that’s still living inside your story.

I don’t offer formulas.
I offer presence.
I offer reverent, trauma-informed space to unfold each tender layer.
And I walk with you—not ahead of you—because I’ve been where the shadow obscures the light, too.

My work draws from somatic movement, breathwork, nervous system re-education, earth-based ritual, and deeply intuitive listening.
It is soul work. It is body work. It is remembering work.

This isn’t about being “healed.”
It’s about being whole.

A Note for Grievers

If you are grieving right now—
Please know that you are not broken.
You are being remade.

Grief is not an apology or a pathology.
It’s not a problem to be solved.
It is love, stretched out across time and space.
It is proof that something mattered.

Your grief deserves reverence.
It deserves space.
It deserves breath.

And your body?
It is the sanctuary where that grief can move.
Where it can speak.
Where it can soften.
Where it can rest.

You don’t have to carry it alone.

An Invitation

If this speaks to you,
If something in your chest just softened,
If your breath got a little deeper—
Then this is your invitation.

Let us walk this sacred path together.

Come as you are—grieving, searching, unraveling, remembering.
We’ll sit at the altar of your body,
listen to its wisdom,
and begin again.

Not to erase the pain.
But to meet it with dignity.
To move the energy that got stuck.
To return you to the rhythm of your life.
To help you reclaim your voice, your power, your place.

This is practice.
This is presence. This is pilgrimage.

And it’s not about transcending the mess.
It’s about finding the holy truth within it.

You are not too much.
You are not too late.
You are already on the path.

Welcome to Embodiment Reclamation, fellow pilgrim.
Let’s walk it together.