I feel most alive when curiosity leads — in writing, creativity, and self-knowledge.
A bit about me
I believe insight emerges when we get quiet enough to listen — with pen on paper, or a line wandering across a page, or your body settling into deep rest. These are all invitations to re-member: to gather together the many parts of ourselves and become a little more whole.
For years, reflective writing has been part of my life. But journaling alone has its limits — I can only see my life the way I've always seen it.
When I reluctantly joined my first guided memoir group, I discovered something unexpected. Writing and sharing stories within a small group broadened my perspective, and brought forward memories I may never have reached on my own. I expected to write about the harder times. Instead I was surprised by the joyful stories that had been hidden under the rubble of a complicated childhood.
Listening to others tell their stories reminded me that while every life is different, at our core we are remarkably alike—soft-skinned and resilient.
Hey susan, did you ever try journaling?Enter by the side door
The direct route doesn't always take us where we need to go — sometimes insight arrives through a good question, a simple drawing, or an hour spent in the garden pulling weeds.
Neurographics is another one of those side doors — a guided creative practice that has nothing to do with artistic ability and everything to do with staying curious.
And long before any of this, there was bodywork. Massage is where I first learned compassionate presence — holding space for what is, without judgment. Whether it’s in a bodywork session, a writing circle or a neurographics session, my intention is always the same.
Different doorways, same room.
My work isn't about becoming a writer or an artist:
It's about self-expression.
Telling your side of the story.
Seeing old patterns with fresh eyes.
Discovering what has been waiting patiently beneath the noise.
My role is to create a safe, compassionate space where you can explore — to ask thoughtful questions, respond to what unfolds, and trust the process.
If this feels like your kind of room, I'd love to have you here.
The collaboration and genuine witnessing is intoxicating. On another level, the life-writing is like opening a beautiful hope chest in the attic of someone very dear — and each writing peels back another layer of treasures found within. I would have said I have few memories of my childhood, or before my late teens — and with the prompts and encouragement, I feel flooded with memories I want to capture. This life-writing is an elixir for living a full life.
—Writing Group Colleague