Writings From the Spiral…
Essays, reflections, and transmissions on shadow work, spiritual practice, and the slow art of becoming whole. Writing about the things we're not supposed to say out loud — the grief with no name, the gifts that got buried, the healing that doesn't look like healing. Some of these will comfort you. Some will unsettle you. Both are the point.
Where shadow meets soul and healing doesn't move in a straight line.
The Maccabees: When the Oil Runs Out
I believe that a guide who has never been lost in the valley has no business drawing you a map. I share this poem — raw, profane, unhopeful — because I refuse to be the kind of healer who only shows you the after.
The Phoenix Current
"My tribe is finding me. The ones who speak the same strange frequency — healers, dreamers, alchemists, mystics — we are magnetizing to each other, pulled by the same golden thread of remembrance."
What I Found When I Stopped Believing I Was Broken
I didn't come to Buddhist psychology through calm contemplation. I came to it the way most people find what they genuinely need — sideways, through a series of doors I didn't know were connected. This is the story of what I found when I finally stopped believing I was broken.