Introduced to transformational breathwork

Between a job loss and a heartbreak, a friend brought me to my first session, mostly to get me away from the wine. I was resistant. By the end, my mind and heart had opened to parts of my past and my future I hadn't been able to see.

Became a facilitator

Somewhere between driving into Sedona with a playlist I loved as the red rocks came up, and a life coach session that same weekend, I realized I wanted to lead and not just attend. I got certified soon after and started with sessions on my patio.

Poetry became my signature

As a participant, the closing visualization was always my favorite part. As a facilitator, I feared it. I'm not good at finding words in real time, so I write them instead, usually the morning of. When a poem unlocks something in me, it tends to unlock something in whoever's hearing it. I've written a new one for every session since my first, and it's now what draws people in. That, and the Swedish candy 🍬

Learned about functional breathwork

I met Elsa, a functional breathing teacher, and realized I knew nothing about it. Not long after, I came home from France to a pile of work and a panic attack. "The breathwork coach who can't breathe" is my family's joke, but I took it as a sign to enroll in her program. For myself first, and then for everyone else.

Evolved into Breathword

Now I build each session around what the participants need, guided by a two-minute survey and my own read of the room. Functional breathing, transformational breathwork, or a blend. It always ends the same way, with a poem written for that moment and no other.