Writer & Teacher of Embodied Wisdom

My work sits at the intersection of ancient wisdom, modern psychology, and lived experience.
Many people think inner peace and happiness come from creating the right mix of external conditions. The best school. A great paying job. A good relationship.
I used to think this as well.
But through time and experience I've learned what the ancients have been saying all along:
Peace doesn't come from controlling what's happening around us—it comes from learning how to relate to what's happening within us.
From a psychological perspective, this means understanding how the mind relates to thoughts and emotions. From an ancient wisdom perspective, it means seeing more clearly the patterns of attachment and aversion that may be shaping our experience and adding to our suffering.
I see this as different languages pointing to the same, or at least similar, inner work.
Most people also separate "spiritual practice" from daily life. But I believe we can learn to see the sacred in the mundane—the lotus in the mud, so to speak. We can find meaning and purpose in the simple activities of our lives, which is succinctly captured in the Zen phrase "chop wood, carry water."
In other words, spiritual depth isn't found outside of our daily lives—it's found right in the midst of it.
This can show up in how we respond to stress, how we relate to other people, and how we meet our own thoughts, emotions, and habits.
Over time, our practice can become less about escaping the world—and more about learning to live within it with greater clarity, steadiness, and joy.
I didn’t set out to do this work.
In my twenties, I moved from Spokane to New York City to pursue an acting career. Like many people chasing something uncertain, I lived in a constant cycle of stress and financial instability.
If I was in a production of some kind, or at least had a decent survival job that enabled me to pay the bills while auditioning, I was on the right path and felt happy. But if too many auditions went by without a role, or if I landed a decent gig but couldn't find another survival job after it ended, I would sink into a depression and question my existence.
After I had been in New York for about 5 years, my mom invited me and my sister on a trip to Mazatlan. While lying on a lounge chair, listening to the ocean, and feeling the sun on my face, my nervous system began to deeply relax.
Perhaps it was simply due to the contrast between this moment on the beach and my fast-paced New York City life as a struggling actor, but after a few days I began to experience such a profound sense of inner peace and wellbeing that I just couldn't imagine going back to business as usual afterwards.
I decided in that moment that the feeling of peace and harmony I was experiencing was important, and I wanted to be my North Star... something I could measure all future decisions against.
After getting back to New York, I gave up the pursuit of acting and discovered yoga and meditation, and what began as a personal search gradually became a path.
I trained as a yoga teacher, studied anatomy and massage therapy, and spent years teaching movement and mindfulness in New York City and internationally. Along the way, I deepened my practice through Zen and Buddhist teachings, and eventually immersed myself in modern psychological approaches like ACT and DBT.
For a long time, these felt like different domains.
But over time—through years of teaching, and watching students struggle with the same patterns I knew in myself—I began to see something more clearly:
These weren’t separate disciplines.
They were different languages for the same underlying work.
I used to feel like I had to “pick a lane.” Now I see these as different expressions of the same thing:
Understanding how we relate to our inner experience—and how that relationship shapes the way we live.
Today, my work is focused on helping people close the gap between what they understand and how they actually live.
Not through quick fixes or surface-level changes—but through practices that work at a deeper level.
This includes developing awareness of thoughts, emotions, and patterns; learning to work with the nervous system; understanding how habits are formed and reinforced; and cultivating the capacity to respond, rather than react.
In practice, this might mean noticing the tightness in your chest during a difficult conversation—and learning to stay present rather than shut down. Over time, this kind of work changes what becomes available to you in real moments—not because you’re trying harder, but because your system is learning a different way to respond.
There’s no single right way to begin.
Here are a few places to enter, depending on where you are.
Start with the writing
I share reflections, practices, and ways of working with these patterns—delivered to your inbox.
Some pieces explore the intersection of ancient wisdom and modern psychology. Others take a closer look at how these ideas show up in real life—through habits, stress, sleep, and the patterns we keep returning to.
It’s a place to slow down, think more clearly, and begin to work with your experience in a more intentional way.
→ Join the Email List
Practice in a structured way
Zenyasa Wellness is where this work becomes a lived experience.
Through small-group coaching, mindful movement, and meditation, you’ll have the opportunity to practice these skills in a supportive, guided environment.
→ Explore Zenyasa Wellness
For movement teachers and wellness professionals
For over 25 years, I’ve worked with yoga teachers, movement instructors, and other wellness professionals to help them find ways to integrate functional anatomy, philosophy, and/or nervous system regulation into a more embodied approach to teaching and practice.
I’m currently developing new continuing education programs and trainings. If you’re a teacher or movement professional, you’re welcome to join the list for updates.
→ Join the Teacher List