My Story & Philosophy

I do this work because I believe that when we are fully present to death, we finally understand what it means to be fully alive.

Death changes how we live - how we show up, how we love, and how we choose to spend our days.

Every time I witness someone at the end of life, I am reminded of what matters most - presence, love, and the courage to be fully invested in living.

For me, being a death doula is about showing up with dignity, care, and compassion for someone who is in transition.

This can look like: tending to their needs, supporting their body, and helping with the practical details that arise at the end of life.

But beyond the practical, there is a deeply human and spiritual side of this work - which is where my heart lives most. To me, being a doula means creating sacred space for people to ask, “What does dying well mean to me? “ “What conversations do I need to have?” “What does it feel like to be truly honored and witnessed in my final moments?”

Every person is different.

Every culture, belief system, and tradition brings its own beauty and truth to the life and death cycle -something I hold with a great deal of reverence.

My role is not to push any one way of thinking, but to hold space for their way - whatever they believe, however they want to transition.

Ultimately, being a death doula means being fully present for life’s sacred transitions - not just at the end of life, but at the crossroads we all face along the way.

I see myself as a witness to the thresholds that shape us.

To me, being a doula is about being present to life, in all of its complexity.

My background is a blend of formal training, intuitive skill, and lived experience. I’m a certified Health Coach through the Institute for Integrative Nutrition, and I’ve also trained as a Reiki Master and intuitive energy practitioner. I’m trauma-informed, and my work is grounded in deep presence, ethical care, and a commitment to honoring each person’s unique path.

Earlier in my professional journey, I worked for the Samish Indian Nation as a social services specialist. Though I didn’t have a traditional social work degree, I was hired because of the way I held presence - because I could sit with people in their pain, their transition, and their truth. That time shaped me deeply, and it taught me how to advocate for others while holding space for what’s sacred.

I’ve also worked as a hospice caregiver, providing end-of-life support in practical, emotional, and spiritual ways. I’ve walked with people through aging, dying, grief, and the quiet in-between places where life unravels and rebuilds itself.

But in many ways, my greatest training has come from life itself. From a young age, I was connected to liminal spaces and carried intuitive gifts that I later returned to in my healing journey. I’ve sat with my own illness and mortality. I’ve cared for loved ones through their final chapter. I’ve participated in traditional medicine ceremonies that taught me what it means to choose life and what it means to be a true witness to the complexity of the human experience.

My path hasn’t been linear. It’s been lived.

And every step has brought me closer to the work I now do as a doula and as a sacred companion to the living.

My life has been my greatest teacher.

Pain and suffering come for all of us, often earlier than we’d like, and I am no exception.

While I had to try and find meaning in those experiences, I’ve learned that sometimes what’s needed most is simply to be witnessed in that pain.

When we are suffering, we don’t always need or want to be fixed. We need presence. Real, grounded presence.

We need someone who can sit with our pain without flinching or offering hollow sympathy.

I know this because I’ve been there.

I know what it feels like to want someone to hold the weight with you instead of trying to make it go away.

The hardships in my own life - illness, loss, trauma, grief - they have given me that unique understanding.

They taught me how to sit with and make room for what hurts. They’ve shown me how to distill meaning from pain without forcing it.

I sometimes jokingly say that I’ve been apprenticing with life and death my whole life. Every hard moment has been part of my training - definitely not the kind you’d ever sign up for, but the kind that shapes you into someone who can hold space for others in their hardest moments.

I am grateful for to the winding river that has led me here and continues to flow me into my own becoming.

Compassion, presence, and integrity are at the core of everything I do.

I’ve also learned that healthy boundaries are essential - both for myself and for the people I support. Because of this, you’ll notice I have several notices on my website about my scope of practice and what my role is around grief, loss and transitional moments.

While my services can be an excellent companion to medical support and treatment, the services I offer are not a substitute for professional medical care, psychiatric treatment, or licensed therapy.

I am not to be mistaken for a licensed medical professional or licensed therapist/counselor.

I do not diagnose, treat, or cure any physical or mental health condition. My work is rooted in presence and practical companionship.

All sessions and services are indented as spiritual and emotional companionship, intuitive support and sacred space holding.

When I sit with someone, my hope is that they feel truly seen, heard, and honored.

My goal is to cultivate a sense of peace, comfort, and connection in whatever way matters most to them, in the time that we have together.

Another value that feels just as essential to me is play.

We can so easily get lost in the heaviness of a terminal diagnosis or the reality of death, forgetting that we are still alive until our very last breath.

I often ask my clients, “What does living still look like for you? What would bring you joy or comfort right now?”

Sometimes it’s as simple as being under the stars, feeling the wind, having a mocktail or sharing laughter with a loved one.

These moments of life - these small, sacred joys - are just as important as anything else I can offer. And sometimes, they are what leave the longest lasting memories.

For me, death is sacred. It is a threshold that deserves reverence.

When someone invites me into that space with them, I see it as an honor and an invitation to simply witness and to be a compassionate presence to their process.

It’s not my job to fix or change anything. I’m not a counselor. I don’t give advice. My role is to hold and create space - whether that’s through conversation, ceremony, intuitive energy work or quiet presence - so that whatever needs to surface can be honored.

I see grief and death as sacred companions, not enemies.

In our culture, we often treat them like thieves to be avoided at all costs, but I’ve learned that when we allow ourselves to face them fully, we discover they are some of our greatest teachers.

Grief and death remind us of love, of connection, of the preciousness of life.

I believe that when we are willing to face death honestly, we engage more fully in life. We remember that we are still alive, even in the midst of dying.

Sometimes my role is simply to ask, “What does living still look like for you?” “What brings you joy or comfort right now?” and then acting upon those wishes, making them manifest in their journey.

I bring a blend of intuitive, creative, and practical skills to my work as a death doula.

I am an intuitive energy healer and Reiki Master, and I’ve spent years cultivating somatic awareness - learning how the body holds stories, emotions, and memories, especially in times of illness or transition.

Ceremony and ritual are also at the heart of what I do. I know how to create sacred, intentional spaces - whether that’s through guided meditations, grief rituals, or ceremonies that help someone feel grounded and honored as they move through transition.

I am also a storyteller and writer, which allows me to capture the moments and memories that matter most.

Sometimes that looks like helping someone shape a legacy project, such as: a collection of letters, a story, or even a book of poetry, like I’m currently creating with one of my clients.

There are so many ways that an individual can choose to be remembered - the joy lies in uncovering what that means for them.

The short answer: When you’re ready.

I love working with people who are open to the conversation of death and who are willing to look at the reality of the transitions they’re facing with curiosity, even if it’s hard.

This means, that even if you are not imminently facing death, but desire to converse about transitions within the human experience, then I honor that pull within you and would love to have a conversation.

I feel drawn to those who are struggling with transitions - those who need someone to sit in that space of fear, uncertainty, or resistance with them, and be met with curiosity and compassion.

One of my core values is choice.

I will never force my work on anyone.

If someone isn’t ready or doesn’t want my support, I respect that completely. But when someone is open to receiving - at whatever level they choose - then that’s when the real connection and healing can happen.

Death, to me, is one of the greatest teachers.

I believe our energy continues beyond the body - transforming and moving into whatever is next.

I don’t claim to know what happens after we die, (none of us do), but I believe death is as sacred and miraculous as birth.

We celebrate birth with awe, even though it’s risky, painful, and raw.

Death, like birth, asks for courage, presence, and love as we cross from one form of life into another.

When we face death with open hearts, we don’t just deepen our understanding of dying, we deepen our understanding of living.

When it comes to spirituality, I hold no strict dogma.

My beliefs are a mix of influences - stemming mostly from Shamanic and Indigenous Practices, Christian theology, and Buddhist teachings- but they’re not bound by any one religion.

I believe in a Creator, a source energy, a great mystery that binds us all together.

I do believe in Jesus Christ (just incase you’re wondering), but likely not in the traditional sense you may be thinking.

Rather, I see Jesus Christ as a master teacher, a guide, and an ally to this work of greater self discovery, but I do not believe anyone is ‘excluded’ from love or wholeness after death because of their beliefs.

What matters most, I believe, is our relationship to ourselves, and the world around us.

This is felt so deeply in the energy we carry when we leave this world.

Again, these are simply my own beliefs, not a truth I intend to force upon you or instill.

However, I believe in being transparent about this here with you and honoring your individual belief systems in our work together.

If you’ve found your way here, I don’t believe it’s a coincidence.

Something - maybe curiosity, maybe your own inner knowing - has drawn you to this conversation.

I want to honor that pull and witness the courage it takes to engage with this kind of work. It’s not always easy to look at life’s transitions head-on, so I hope you honor yourself for being here with curiosity.

This work is my sacred offering.

It is rooted in reverence, compassion, and respect for you and your journey. If you feel called to work with me, know that you will always have choice here.

You set the tone and the pace.

Each time we meet, we co-create the sacred space we need in that moment, so nothing is forced.

Sometimes the most powerful thing we can offer each other is simple presence and witnessing, where someone is not there to fix you but to walk alongside you.

I am not a therapist or a medical professional, but I do see my work as a complement to the care and support they provide.

My role is to be an ally in the journey and to create space for your soul’s needs, to offer presence and witnessing and to honor this sacred threshold you are stepping through.

Should it feel aligned, it will be an honor to have a conversation with you.