I am a 25 year old human who has spent the majority of the last five years exploring my own patterns and beliefs in an attempt to feel at home with myself. I’ve reached a season of sorts, where I’ve found (and stuck with) tools, systems, and supports that have cued my nervous system that I am, indeed, safe to show up authentically. Not because I have arrived somewhere final, but because I have learned, slowly and sometimes painfully, that the body, mind, and spirit need space, care, honesty, and devotion in order to speak clearly.

For a long time, I felt completely stuck. Disconnected from my mind, my body, and my spirit. Running, numbing, thinking, achieving, proving, avoiding (without really knowing it). I had support. I had love. I had things to be grateful for. Still, I found myself separated from myself. Quietly scared. Anxious. Unsure how to feel, unsure how to listen, unsure how to trust the small voice underneath the constant chatter of the mind.

Over time, I began to understand that clarity does not always come from thinking harder. That clarity never comes from isolation. Sometimes it comes from expressing what has stayed inside for too long. Sometimes it comes from moving the body. Sometimes it comes from telling the truth, taking one small action, or honoring a desire that makes no logical sense yet feels deeply honest. With each time I listened, I was met with growth. With opportunity. With fulfillment and joy.

I still see my ego. I still fuck up. But with each rep, I build the metaphorical muscle of honoring the truth. I’ve arrived at the belief (really the felt-sense) that there is no actual point of arrival. No final level we can reach. This lived, human experience of ours is a constant evolution. A continuous practice. A choice. I intend to be of service here; humbly, with curiosity and an open heart.