I’ve been in my healing era for the better part of three decades. I’ve wept in classrooms as I released generations of trauma from my womb. I’ve driven two hours through the Mexican countryside to have a healer spit mezcal on my back. I’ve sung myself home in sweat...
Here’s a bittersweet pill on your screen: We cannot love without losing. I discovered this when I was writing my book, Letters to My Lovers. And when I first felt this sword in my throat, it stung. Until I learned it didn’t have to. So let me show you how to swallow...
Why this modern day fairy tale keeps you from your true power in love. Whenever I hear a client talk about wanting to find their soulmate, their twin flame, their divine union, the “one,” I know exactly the path our work will go. Namely: expanding their understanding...
Roses are red. Violets are blue. I’m a lover conflicted about Valentine’s Day. How about you? When I was an adolescent, my middle school sold pink carnations on Valentine’s Day. The idea was that the boys could buy them for their girlfriends (or desired girlfriends)....
We are at war with love. War…with love. At a glance, this seems like a contradiction. The concept of battle does not match the dreamy gaze of the poets. But. The horror stories are adding up. The level of deceit, lies, and heartbreak that exists in the dating world...
The man vs. bear debate needs one more fighter in the woods: me (and you.) The question has been bouncing around online for some time now. The polls are closed and women have chosen the bear. But I question the question itself, and therefore the integrity of the data....
“I love you” used to be a compliment, now it’s more of a curse. See it in the way we settle for the mechanics. How we take juiceless walks through songs we should slow dance to. Why we tap a thirst trap and still stay thirsty. Our shields are raised. Our arms are...
Love is on the screen again. I swipe away the men like flies who share the secrets of the not-so-fair sex. My eyes linger on the sad poetry that falls from the mouths of the women who have loved and lived to tell the tale. And when someone is brave enough to offer...
He called me naive, but he didn’t realize that I was simply rooting for him. I know that the path where words align with action is built on uneven ground. I was perched on a high branch above him hoping he would find his footing. He called me naive, but he didn’t...
In another life, we might have been flowers. Not roses, their petals are far too strong to describe us. Not daffodils or daisies either, or any of the cultivated varieties. We would be the tender little wildflowers that dance in the fields of grass. As the summer...
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The Bhagavad Gita 2:40