Why I’m here

There are things we all know are coming, and still spend most of our lives trying not to look at. Death is one of them. Not because we’re weak or in denial — but because we were never taught how to sit with it.

I’m here because I feel called to sit with that fear.

Not to erase it. Not to make it pretty or palatable. But to acknowledge it, name it, and stay present with it — the way we do with anything that matters.

For most of us, death only becomes real when it crashes into our lives: a diagnosis, a sudden loss, a moment that splits time into before and after. By then, we’re expected to know what to do, how to grieve, how to plan, how to say goodbye — without ever having been shown how.

I don’t believe facing death makes life darker. I believe it makes it more honest. More intentional. Less rushed by fear we can’t quite name.

This space exists for people who feel curious but hesitant, brave and scared at the same time. For people who aren’t “ready,” whatever that even means. You don’t need to be grieving. You don’t need to be dying. You don’t need a reason beyond the quiet feeling that something here matters.

Here, we’ll talk about death, grief, legacy, and the in-between — gently, clearly, and without urgency. There’s no pressure to understand everything, to heal on a timeline, or to turn away from discomfort the moment it arises.

If you stay, you’re welcome.
If you leave, that’s okay too.

You don’t have to know what you need yet.

If something here stirred a question or a feeling you want to sit with, you’re welcome to reach out. This work begins wherever you are.