“Being in circle with other women is like holding an ancient code. There is a magic women have by just being together. We know what is needed in the moment, and we have this incredible permission medicine to free ourselves and each other through our own embodiment.”

“Tea ceremony—the slowness, the intentionality of every object, and the tea itself opened up a space for me to catch up to myself and the fast pace of my life. The beauty and simplicity of the ritual stops the mind. We drink six to seven bowls of tea in a one-hour time period and get ‘tea drunk’. Camellia Sinensis creates this lovely calm-alert place to explore.”

“Embodiment work allowed me to explore my sensuality and sexuality that had been cut off in my earlier years, and reclaim that piece for myself. I came to understand that my pleasure is mine, and that I have it to share with somebody else. It’s not something somebody else gives to me.”  

“Being a doula was the first opening into women's bodies, and the stories we carry. We're always birthing, not necessarily babies, but ideas, and new versions of ourselves.”

“The death of my marriage was a big initiation to feel deeply embodied in a way that I had not experienced before. Giving myself permission and feeling empowered. Getting in touch with what I needed, and how that flowed into my boundaries of what’s okay and what’s not okay.”

“The beginning of stepping into what felt right was having the courage to walk away from my marriage and what wasn't mine. There's a sovereignty that comes with knowing I can trust myself to do the hardest and most courageous thing because I value myself and my life.”

“I was angsty and wallowing in the search for 'the thing' I wanted to do for years, and it was there all along. We think finding it is complicated or sophisticated. But, it’s all right here. A big part of the work is slowing down, getting still, diving underneath the chaos, and listening to the peace and wisdom in the moment. Maya Luna calls it ‘the deep feminine current of reality’. It's always here, and it’s fun to play in that flow of knowledge and pleasure and aliveness.”

"The confusion or murkiness, given enough time, space, and care, always clarifies. I take that knowledge into moments of not knowing to slow down and tell that part of myself that wants certainty that, ‘it's okay to not know’. There's so much juice and beauty and humility in not knowing. When I'm on my knees not knowing, I’m in the mystery and I'm listening. That's when I'm closest to God.”

“When self-doubt comes up, I remember I’m serving something greater. Why am I doing this? Why does it matter? What and who do I serve? Letting that be the only thing that matters and being willing to not get it right, being willing to be judged and look like a fool, have it be messy and inarticulate, to crash and burn, and have it flop if it needs to. Give your imperfect offering.”