Welcome
“The point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now.
Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it,
live along some distant day into the answer.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
The Disappearing Act
For most of my life, I didn't know how to listen to my body.
To be honest, I didn't even know what that meant.
I grew up sensitive, observant, and drawn to expression. Dance was my first love—it felt like freedom. Later, theater became the place where I could explore emotion, imagination, and the complexity of being human.
I've spent more than twenty years working as a professional actor. I loved the work, but somewhere along the way I realized I was looking to it for more than creativity. I was searching for certainty, belonging, and a sense of who I was.
That realization eventually led me toward embodiment—not as a departure from acting, but as another way of asking the same questions.
What does it mean to be fully present?
How do we stay connected to ourselves in moments of uncertainty?
How do we learn to trust the wisdom of the body as much as the stories of the mind?
Those questions continue to shape my life, my creative work, and the way I teach today.
My Story
The Descent and Return
I've struggled with depression and anxiety for most of my adult life.
For many years, I believed something was fundamentally wrong with me. And for a long time medication was the only tool available to me. I always felt there was something I hadn't yet understood about my own experience.
The stillness of the pandemic became an unexpected turning point. It gave me the space to begin asking questions I'd spent much of my life avoiding.
That search led me toward embodiment, nervous system work, movement, and the study of trauma. More importantly, it led me into a different relationship with myself.
Over time, I came to understand that healing isn't a straight line, and there is no single path that works for everyone. My own journey has included periods of profound growth, profound pain, unexpected setbacks, and moments of needing support in ways I never anticipated.
What changed me most wasn't one method or one teacher.
It was learning that I had choices.
The choice to slow down.
To listen.
To ask for help.
To discover that being deeply met—whether through relationship, movement, medication, or quiet presence—can be just as important as any technique.
And the journey of waking up—of truly choosing to be here in this life—is not always simple, or even accessible, for everyone.
The Present
Whether I'm on stage, facilitating movement, or exploring ideas through writing, I'm interested in the same questions I've always been asking:
How do we become more fully ourselves?
How do we stay present to our experience?
How do we create, connect, and live with greater honesty?
The more I learn, the more questions I have.
And perhaps that's what keeps me curious.
I don't believe I have the answers for anyone else.
What I hope to offer is a space where people can become more curious about themselves, their bodies, and the stories they are living.
