06/29/2026
People often comment that my office doesn't look like a typical therapy office.
Every piece in this space was chosen because it reminds me of something I never want to forget.
Not just as a therapist...but as a human being.
The trees remind me that healing grows from the inside out.
One of my favorite sculptures is of a mother tree leaning toward her child tree. It reminds me that healing doesn't happen in isolation. We are shaped in relationship, wounded in relationship, and so often, healed in relationship. Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is simply move toward one another.
The neurons remind me that our brains and nervous systems are capable of changing throughout our lives.
White Buffalo Calf Woman reminds me to approach this work with humility, reverence, compassion, and respect for wisdom that exists beyond what any of us can fully explain.
The bear looking at the bubble with the bee inside reminds me to stay curious. To look closely and to wonder before I assume. To remember that what appears small may be carrying something important.
The otter reminds me that healing isn't only about processing pain. It's also about recovering curiosity, joy, and play.
The Buddha reminds me that presence often heals more deeply than answers.
The artwork of the child standing in front of the polar bear reminds me that most people are carrying far more strength than they know. My role is rarely to give people something they don't have. More often, it's to help them reconnect with something that has been buried beneath fear, shame, trauma, or years of surviving.
Even the words on my walls are there to guide me.
"Compassion is the complete acceptance of another's humanness without knowing their story."
"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive..."
These aren't decorations.
They're daily invitations.
Every morning before someone walks through my door, they remind me how I want to meet another human being...with curiosity instead of certainty, presence instead of performance, and compassion instead of judgment.
When I look around my office, I realize the deeper theme isn't just nature....it's relationship.
A mother tree leaning toward her child.
A child standing before her own strength.
A bear noticing the smallest thing.
A forest path.
Interconnected neurons.
Sacred reminders of wisdom, protection, compassion, and aliveness.
All of it reminds me that healing happens in relationship. Relationship with ourselves, with one another, with our bodies, with the natural world, and with something larger than ourselves.
People often think this work is about helping others change.
For me it is about creating the conditions where people begin to feel safe enough to remember who they have always been.
Because I believe that when the nervous system begins to experience safety, people don't become someone new.
They begin coming home to themselves.
