About the Coach

Personal Statement

I think I am supposed to give you a clear cut narrative. A story that starts, rises, swings with just the right pace, and concludes—bringing you to why I am a coach and a yoga therapist. 

As a lover of narrative, I would be ecstatic to hand this over to you, but I see my own and my clients’ stories more in terms of expanding and contracting circles now. Moments that overlap and flow in and out of each other like water. They point us to what is right for us any given day, month, year—years. 

I believe that our own well-being is linked to how we harmonize with these experiences; whether we map out our time and energy with some intention, or whether we let other (often well-meaning) people/causes carry us off to some weird place that causes us to shrink. 

At the same time, I’m not interested in pretending that structural issues and discrimination are not real issues that have impact. I’m pretty over the culture or individuals gaslighting us out of accurate observations of reality. This shit makes a mark on our psyches and what options are open to us. I have heard way too many amazing people talk all about how everything is wrong with them, when—friends, sometimes it is the soil we are in, etc. Here’s some things I know about:

• Structural power - its effects and how to work within/around it

• Mission driven organizations - adrenaline-filled efforts / campaigns

• Management - bad and/or toxic variety, and the good kind

• Strategy - identifying a specific goal or target and building out how to get there

• Chronic illness - including undiagnosed ones

I believe things can be better, with some focus and some kindness. The part of the lawn that gets watered gets greener, yah? (Although if you’re in California like I am, we should take some time with the politics of lawns, no?) I’m a strict adherent of “do the next right thing,” a slogan heralded by 12 step programs throughout the world and, much to my interest, a song from Frozen 2. I offer actionable, realistic steps in addition to the ability to coach people through management and wellness decisions. I offer multiple modalities, depending on client interest: coaching and/or yoga therapy. 

Want to figure out how to work together? Check out the Services.

If you’d like to learn more about me, here’s some moments from my life:

One moment: I am sitting in a negotiation for a job—mine—and I say to the two senior men I work with that the research says that if I don’t negotiate, they will respect me less, and if I do negotiate, they will like me less, and that since I’m in a gender trap, I’m going to just say my number. 

Another: I am sitting on the examination table, crying. Something is physically wrong and I can’t seem to get anyone to believe me.

Another: I am running ahead of the march, looking back and down the hill, the Isiserettes Drill and Drum Corp is going, and I begin walking backwards to see the full group. Obama at the front, senior staff trying to stay at the sides, dozens and dozens of ecstatic volunteers from all over Iowa behind him. It locks into place. We’re going to win this thing—the Iowa caucuses, yes, but also, he’s going to win the Presidency.

Another: I am reading an interview with Patrisse Cullors. She talks about how everyone thinks of activism as going out with signs to a protest, but how there’s a lot of other work involved—they aren’t putting their boring ass meetings on social media. I laugh out loud repeatedly, circle it, and send it to the people I do community organizing with via text.

Another: I am reaching up, I am breathing out, I am grounded in my feet. My body feels lengthened and whole, like it’s been waiting for this inhale and exhale. I am moving into different postures, and I lose myself and find myself at the same time.

Another: I am on the campaign, and we order chicken fingers and fries for the millionth time. I eat them with complete joy with one hand, doing a conference call, and typing with my other hand. I know there’s something that feels off about all this, but I can’t care or think about that right now—we’ve got an election to win. 

Another: I am facilitating the strategic planning meeting and I ask everyone to put their smartphones in what I’m calling daycare so we can be present for the conversation and with each other. Groans ensue, but everyone does it. I lead a brief visioning exercise at the start, on one person in their life or who they’ve met who is served by the work we’re doing (it might be them), and we ground the conversation there.

Another: I am in my father’s trailer home in Florida. He has just passed. It is a very old, broken down space, many would probably deem it unsafe, but I can see what he was trying to build here. It looks spiritually large to me. I stare at the paint swatches on the wall of the kitchen, I run my hand on the wall next to them. I find the papers that show he was probably homeless for a bit. 

Another: I’m working in the White House. A dear friend and I read Jane Eyre, and walk to Lafayette Park for twenty minute breaks, and to talk about Jane. I’m trying to draft blog posts about making healthy eating choices that don’t ignore the real time constraints on working families or pretend that every community has the same access to produce.

Another: I’m staring at the white woman, who is very visibly upset, who is almost spitting in my face, asking me to denounce the remarks of the black pastor. It almost feels like I’m out of my body, watching what’s happening. I tell her I disagree with her, which seems to shock her. I realize that there is a lot I do not understand about race in America, as a white woman myself.  

Another: I’m taking notes from the positive psychology lecture on the importance of growth versus fixed mindset. I’m wondering how many times throughout my life I cut myself off from opportunities by believing my knowledge or abilities were set in stone, as opposed to areas I might be able to develop. I’m remembering times someone told me that I could never do something, and an iron will rose inside of me, and I silently resolved to prove them wrong and eventually did so.

Another: I’m listening to a coaching client, and I’m hearing what they do not say (in the words of James Baldwin, on writers). I ask questions, I point to resources or ideas. The client stops, and I lift up what their body is communicating; we stay with that for a few minutes. The client cries, and breaks through to articulate something that feels truer for them. We identify the primary value, and we identify the action steps.