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Practical-Magick

🍂 Functioning on the outside. Untethered underneath. Heartbreak. Soul ache. Grief that won't stay in its lane. All piling up until you j u s t. c a n 't. b r e a t he . Women carrying this kind of grief — the unlabeled, the unwitnessed, the relentless pile-up of it — require more than a mindset shift or a luxurious day spa. Because when your life tilts over without your permission, it's not just your plans that fall apart. It's your sense of who you are. So if you feel all goo'd up like a caterpillar in a cocoon, I'm your gal — I'm both the stick that holds you, and your guide through the goo — so you can emerge intact when you're ready to move rooted through the world again. With more than a decade guiding women through these hard in-between seasons —and navigating more than one of my own—my work is the bridge through the in-between your soul has been waiting for. I live on the Olympic Peninsula —just around the bend from my beloved Lake Crescent— with Blue and Micky (the dogs), Katniss and Rue (the cats), Justin (the semi-retired fisherman), and an opinionated herd of elk who insist my lone pear tree is theirs. Signature offer: For women longing for time, stillness, and a guided reset in nature, I offer Wildwoven VIP Getaways at my family’s cabin on Lake Crescent—three to five days of deep, transformative work held by the land I call home. Simply reply to ask for more details. I also offer traditional 1:1 coaching packages, pilgrimages and retreats and other group programs, and self-paced support for women who want to move at their own rhythm.🍂

Featured Post

You can't "mindset" 🤯 your way through this one ...

Over the past few weeks I've talked a lot about identity shifts, Reader — from the way a single tune can instantly transport you to a version of yourself from decades ago, to what can happen when your "cheese" gets moved. Today I want to name what lives underneath all of it. The thing of it is: when the ground is shifting beneath your feet — Heartbreak. Soul ache. Grief that won't stay in its lane — it's not just your plans that fall apart. It's your sense of who you are. Yet nobody hands you...

I thrived at my "corporate" job in the early days, Reader. I worked for a scrappy little startup with a simple operating principle: if you see a need, just get it done. Nobody waited for permission. Nobody needed three layers of approval. You spotted a gap, you made a case, and you got to work. I loved that. I was constantly learning in those days. Nothing that I'd planned to learn mind you, but so much nonetheless. I was working in the telecom industry in the Information Technology...

Have I ever told you I chewed my nails as a kid, Reader? My mom and a nail-chewing friend's mom collaborated to try to break the two of us from this habit. They tried rewards … promising treats if we went a month without chewing our nails. They tried punishment… taking away certain privileges if they caught us biting our nails. They even painted our nails with Thum — a foul-tasting formula from the 70s that is made from cayenne pepper extract and something called denatonium benzoate, designed...

Do you remember the State Farm commercial, Reader— the one where the mom drives around in the middle of the night because it's the only way to get her baby to sleep? And then she runs out of gas? Years ago, whenever I heard that ad I cried. Every time. I was perpetually single in those days, and all my friends were popping out babies. My biological clock and the version of me who always assumed she'd have kids had opinions about that. And yet. When friends or colleagues — even close ones —...

I am obsessed with Orphan Black right now, Reader. The first scene opens on a train platform. A young woman named Sarah is standing there when she notices someone acting peculiar — a woman who looks exactly like her. Same face. Same bone structure. Down to the last detail. Before Sarah can process what she's seeing, the woman steps out of her shoes, leaves her purse on the platform, walks calmly to the edge and jumps in front of a train. After first covering her eyes in horror, Sarah picks up...

I do my own taxes, Reader. Well. Me and TurboTax, anyway. I've been doing it this way since 2000 — the year I bought my first home. A little cabin on the South Fork of the Snoqualmie River. Buying a house by myself was not in my Original Life Plan. I always assumed I'd be married and buy a house with my spouse someday. You know, the "way it was done". But 26 years ago, my best friend had just gotten married, forcing me to find a new roommate, and then six months into THAT my new roommate...

Justin came downstairs yesterday morning with "Ordinary World," Duran Duran's comeback song from the '90s, stuck in his head. 🤷♀️ Only we didn't realize it was a 90's song until we looked it up. To me, one mention of Duran Duran and I'm plopped directly into the lifeguard stand at Lake of the Pines, an hour outside Sacramento, CA, Summer of 1985, coveting the head lifeguard's white convertible Karmann Ghia with an intensity that still makes sense to me. You know how that goes. One song and...

New Jersey turnpike

The New Jersey turnpike / fancy-schmancy rental car combo almost did me in. Nobody warned me about the tolls, Reader. And I rarely travel with cash. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson about this ... because I have STORIES. But I haven't. Apparently. I had to fish around in my wallet for my emergency stash in order to make it ten miles out of Newark. By then I had to pee. So when I saw the Walmart coming up, I pulled into the parking lot. And yet. Even the Walmart was overwhelming. It was...

At 7am Wednesday morning, I knocked on Jennifer's door in Glen Rock, New Jersey. I'd just Ubered over after a red-eye from Seattle to Newark — and that red-eye came after cleaning the cabin to get it ready for its next guests, a 2 hour drive to the ferry, a hike up to 3rd Street from the ferry dock, and a train to SeaTac. Let's just say it was a very long day, and although I'd dozed a bit on the plane, I was exhausted. Jennifer and I met via Zoom a year ago, through a professional program for...

I’ve heard a few people banter this around, and the ones I appreciated most were: An entire bottle of mescaline (right??) or a Colonoscopy prep It was definitely not a fruffy umbrella drink or a cute little cosmo kind of year. So … before the lists and resolutions ... and drinking ... kick into high gear, I want to name something important, . Some years ask for honesty, not a scorecard. If your year involved grief, burnout, caretaking, illness, heartbreak, a deep internal shift, or collective...