Standing at the Threshold

Every beginning is guided by Ganesha.

There is something sacred about the very beginning of a year, not the rushed resolutions or the pressure to reinvent, but the quiet honesty of standing at the threshold and taking stock of who you are now.

2026 is here.

And I am entering it differently. Before I look forward, I want to honor what 2025 required of me—because last year didn’t just happen. It shaped me. It stripped me down. It taught me how to stay.

What 2025 Asked of Me

2025 was a year of rupture and repair. Of endings that didn’t always come with clean closure, and beginnings that required trust before certainty. It was a year of perimenopause cracking me open, and asking me to finally listen to what my body had been whispering for years. I’ve come to see this season not as a breakdown, but as an initiation. A reckoning. A reminder that becoming whole often requires breaking open first.

There was grief last year. And clarity. And deep, necessary healing. I shed identities, roles, and expectations that no longer fit the woman I am becoming. In their place, something steadier emerged: confidence, peace, and a deeper relationship with myself.

Sacred Juniper: A Dream That Took Root

In 2025, Sacred Juniper moved from vision to reality.

What began as a quiet, persistent calling grew into a thriving practice centered on the healing of women—nourishing the mind, body, and soul. A space where nervous systems soften, rituals matter, and care is offered slowly, intentionally, and with reverence.

This work is deeply personal. Sacred Juniper is not separate from my life—it is an extension of everything I’ve lived, studied, survived, and come to understand about healing.

Over the course of the year, I held 106 sessions at Sacred Juniper. That means 106 intentional pauses—106 times a woman walked through my door and gave herself at minimum 90 minutes of uninterrupted care. Ninety minutes to slow down. To exhale. To allow her body to be supported in a way our culture rarely makes space for. Within those sessions, I sat with women seeking support as they moved through trauma. I witnessed women finding language for experiences that had lived silently in their bodies for years. I helped women reconnect mind and body, tend digestive imbalances, release chronic stress, and gently guide their nervous systems back toward safety.

Again and again, what I offered was not a fix, but a sacred pause. The kind of pause that allows the body to feel safe enough to drop in and let the world outside fall away. The kind of pause that makes profound healing possible.

I need to say this clearly: I am profoundly grateful for the community that has walked through my doors. Whether you came once or became a regular presence, you helped this dream take root and flourish. You trusted me. You allowed me to grow alongside you. There are no words that fully capture the depth of my appreciation, just know that every session, every conversation, every moment mattered.

This space exists because of you.

Travel as Medicine

Travel has always been one of my greatest teachers.

This past year, travel wasn’t about escape or accumulation. It was about regulation. About remembrance. About returning to myself. New landscapes softened places within me that had I’d been holding too tightly. Different rhythms allowed my nervous system to exhale. Travel reminded me who I am when routines fall away. Yoga traveled with me. Early morning breath, quiet evening stretches, familiar rituals in unfamiliar places. These moments reminded me that home is not a location, it’s a felt sense.

This month, I’ll spend a full week solo in Oaxaca; intentional, quiet time devoted entirely to my own healing. Time to reset my nervous system. To wander, rest, eat well, journal, and sit in stillness. Solo travel has long been where I recalibrate, and where I get lost just enough to find myself again.

Soon after, I’ll gather with friends in Puerto Escondido to celebrate the opening of a dear friend’s yoga retreat, holding both solitude and community with equal reverence.

Friendship, Reconnection, and Community

In 2025, I took an honest look at how connection shows up in my life, not just who is close, but how we meet one another. As both a traveler and a healer, my relationships have rarely been bound by one place or one chapter. They’ve been shaped by shared experiences, quiet conversations, and moments of mutual care.

I reconnected with old friends, relationships rooted in shared history and deep familiarity. I also formed new friendships through travel and shared healing spaces. These connections weren’t built on proximity, but on alignment, shared values, and mutual respect. Creating community now means holding space both locally and globally. It means tending the relationships right in front of me while honoring those that stretch across borders and oceans. I’m learning that community doesn’t have to be constant to be meaningful. Sometimes it’s shared meals and quiet laughter. Sometimes it’s distance held with care. Sometimes it’s simply knowing the connection remains.

I no longer chase closeness. I cultivate presence.

The Work That Continues

In 2025, I made the thoughtful decision to step away from my weekly Yoga teaching role. Not as a turning away from Yoga, but as a gentle way to expand. I needed room to breathe, space to focus more fully on Sacred Juniper, to return to my own personal practice, and to create without rushing or restriction. Stepping back created openness: for new ideas, deeper creativity, and offerings shaped by curiosity rather than expectation. It also allowed me to release comparison and return to what first drew me to this work; connection, integrity, and care. From that space, I’m learning how to build and offer in ways that feel sustainable, nourishing, and true.

Alongside this, I became certified as a Victim Advocate with the State of Washington, work that is deeply meaningful and close to my heart. This foundation continues into 2026 and informs how I hold space, teach, and offer care across all of my work. I’ll be offering Regulate & Rise, a trauma-informed series rooted in nervous system regulation, embodiment, and sustainable healing. This work brings together everything I’ve been studying, practicing, and living—creating spaces that support safety, agency, and reconnection within the body.

This year also marks the return of Yoga 4 Nurses (Y4N)—now fully my own and offered in a hybrid format so nurses near and far can participate. I’m currently working toward continuing education credits and will be sharing more details soon.

Align & Nourish continues as well—though evolving. Our next gathering will be dinner only. No workshop. Just shared space, conversation, and nourishment. A reminder that community doesn’t always require structure to be meaningful.

2026: Self-Care, Soul-Care, and the Year of the Horse

As I step into 2026, my intention is simple and unwavering: self-care & soul-care.

As a healer. As a nurse. And as a woman inching closer to 50. Leaning into myself is no longer optional, it is essential. This season is about tending my nervous system with the same devotion I offer others. About choosing rest without apology. About honoring my body’s changing rhythms and listening deeply to what my soul is asking for now.

Caring for myself is not a retreat from my work. It is what allows the work to remain true, sustainable, and alive.

2026 is the Year of the Horse, a symbol of freedom, vitality, and forward movement. After the shedding of last year, this feels right. I’m stepping into this year with clarity, confidence, and a quieter kind of strength. And I hope, wherever you are standing at the start of this year, that you find the same.

Here’s to moving forward with intention, and to nourishment in all the ways that matter most; more naps, clean food, Yoga, travel, community, abundance, friendship, and love.

Happy New Year.