I never set out to become a therapist. For much of my life, I worked behind the scenes, in events, and later in film and television post-production. I valued logic, precision, and problem-solving. But in my late twenties, life unraveled in ways I couldn’t fix, my career shifted, relationships changed, and the solid sense of who I thought I was began to dissolve. What I once saw as failure, I now recognize as the beginning of a profound transformation of self and spirit still unfolding.

That experience guided me toward becoming a therapist. Along the way, I’ve come to appreciate the many forms that healing can take, across different traditions, perspectives, and ways of knowing. I see therapy as one of these paths, a space to slow down and reconnect with the deeper rhythms of your life and who you are.

We all move through seasons of transformation, often circling back to familiar themes in new ways, what once was confusion in our youth may reappear later as an invitation to grow. These transitions can feel like crises: disorienting, painful, and uncertain. Whether prompted by age, loss, illness, or a sudden shift in perspective, they ask us to release what we’ve outgrown and to trust what’s emerging.

In the midst of upheaval, our instinct is often to grip tightly, to resist change, to hold on to what we know, what feels familiar. Yet, paradoxically, it’s through softening that we find our way forward. As Krishnamurti said, “One is never afraid of the unknown; one is afraid of the known coming to an end.”

When we begin to let go, we discover that even within the storm there can be stillness, a quiet center where clarity and transformation unfold.