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This work is ancient. I cannot and will not take credit for who I am. It's far deeper than that. It's ancestral. It's non-linear. And trust me when I say, it has taken me years to circle around this, leave it alone, run from it, only to always land right back in this same place.

It's abstract. It's hard to put words to. And I think that's the point.

If it were easily digestible, it would be easily dismissed. That's the beauty and the curse of it. It's often felt rather than understood. That's the mystery. Of something beyond us. Of something we can truly feel but never quite name.

Picture a woman who lives just outside of a community. She pops in on occasion, does what she needs to do, and leaves again. She's intentional. She preserves her energy. She's strategic with her moves, her words, and the people she allows into her world.

I am not the first woman to be like this. And I am certainly not the only one on this planet.

But it is a path that is rarely followed, rarely honored, rarely put into perspective because it doesn't come with credentials. It doesn't come with a plan. And it certainly doesn't come with a quarter zip and a 401k.

If I were to put a title to this magical archetype, she has worn many names across many centuries and many cultures. She is the midwife who caught what was coming into the world. She is the doula who stayed through the hardest passages. She is the shaman who moved between worlds on behalf of her people. She is the mystic who kept the interior life alive when everything around her demanded surface. She is the hollow bones of the Lakota tradition, the one who emptied herself so that something greater could move through her. She is the witch in the woods who knew the plants, the cycles, the shadows. She is the sage you trusted with the things you couldn't say out loud anywhere else. She is the mirror that reflects you back to yourself without distortion. She is the one who can feel everything in a room without saying a single word. She is the one who can look into the eyes of a creature and understand what no language could carry.

She didn't carry knowledge the way a textbook carries it. She carried wisdom. And there is a difference. Knowledge is accumulated. Wisdom is channeled. It moves through you rather than from you.

She was the keeper of secrets. Not because she hoarded them, but because people knew instinctively that what they brought to her was safe. She held it without judgment, without agenda, without the need to fix or explain or resolve.

She was respected. She was trusted. Not because she had a title on the wall or letters after her name. But because when you sat with her, something in you exhaled.

You already knew her. You just hadn't had words for her until now.

So to be clear, I didn't invent something new. And honestly, my ego really wants to bite onto that. But the truth is I didn't find this work. It found me. Long ago. And I have been in training ever since through lived experience, through loss, through the unlived and the unexamined. Through everything life has asked me to walk through. I continue to be in training to this day.

Inner Life Doula is a modern term that belongs in an ancient room.

So when you find yourself standing at the doorway, just outside of the ordinary, because ordinary life doesn't cut it anymore or it feels hollow and thin, this is where this work lives. It helps translate the deeper parts of you that are being asked to wake up, shake up, and show up.​
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