Musings on who we think we are versus who we actually are, and why I want to know more about you.
It’s October 1st, and I’ve been noticing that my newsletter subscriber list has been growing lately, which means some of you are new here, reading my musings without really knowing who’s writing them.
So I want to fix that but not in the usual bio way. I want to do this like actual humans getting to know each other.
Things you might not expect about me
I’m a homebody. Deeply. Despite building a practice around soul companionship and transformation work, I’m happiest in my garden with three Indian Runner ducks who follow me around like I’m the most fascinating thing they’ve ever seen. (I’m not, but they’re polite about it.)
I used to do 90% of my sessions in person. Loved the energy of face-to-face work, the whole ritual of it. Then in 2012, I lost my son, which changed the architecture of my life. I moved everything to phone and Zoom overnight, and the structure of my work transformed completely. What started as survival became a different kind of intimacy, the kind that happens when someone emails you at 5 AM because breakthrough doesn’t keep business hours.
But the plot twist is that I’m feeling pulled to offer special 1:1 retreats on the Sunshine Coast starting next year. The homebody wants to welcome people into her actual home territory. Go figure.
I laugh more than people expect in soul work. There’s this assumption that deep transformation has to be sombre, but I’ve found that spiritual lightness, the kind that comes with a wink and a “gotcha”, usually opens doors that seriousness keeps locked.
I also bake vintage recipes every Sunday and have conversations with the ducks about past-life patterns, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Because in my world, it is.
Now I want to know about you
Here’s where this gets interesting. I want to know who you are beyond “newsletter subscriber number 847.”
Send me a short email and tell me:
What’s something about you that would surprise the people who only know your “professional” self? (The version of you that shows up on LinkedIn or at family dinners or in polite company.)
If you could have tea with anyone from any time period, who would it be and what would you actually talk about? (Not the rehearsed answer; the real one.)
What drew you here in the first place? Was it a specific newsletter? A friend’s recommendation? Random internet wandering that felt less random than it should have?
What’s one thing you’re figuring your way through right now that you wish you could talk about more openly? (You don’t have to tell me specifics if you don’t want to. Just the shape of it.)
And here’s the wild card. What do you think I get asked about most in my work? I’m curious what you assume people come to me for versus what actually happens in these conversations.
Why this matters
Building a newsletter list is easy when you’ve had a newsletter since 1996. But building actual connections is harder and infinitely more interesting. I don’t want to be the disembodied voice delivering words and energy into your inbox. I want to know who’s reading, what you’re thinking about, and what questions you’re carrying.
Plus, I’m nosy in the best possible way. Occupational hazard of someone who spends their life helping people decode soul patterns. I genuinely want to know what makes you tick.
So hit reply. Tell me one thing, tell me all the things, tell me whatever wants to be said. There’s no right way to respond to this, but there is *your* way.
And if you’re one of my long-time readers rolling your eyes at this reintroduction, thinking “I already know all this”, surprise me anyway. Tell me something I don’t know about you yet. We’ve been having this one-way conversation for a while. Let’s make it two-way.
PS: Yes, the ducks are real. Yes, they have opinions. Yes, I’ve learned more about presence from watching them than from most meditation practices. And yes, I’ll probably write about them again next week because they keep teaching me things.
