About Me

I didn’t always understand what I was seeing. When I touched things, a stone, a spoon, a door frame, visions would come. People who weren’t there. Places I’d never been. The past clung to objects like moss to stone, and I could feel it all.
No one around me understood. I was quiet, strange, always drifting. It felt like I was being torn between two worlds: the one everyone else lived in, and the one that whispered to me through objects and shadows. It was lonely, not the kind of loneliness that comes from being alone, but the kind that comes from being unseen. I didn’t know how to explain what I saw, and I didn’t know if I was meant to.
That ache stayed with me...like a root growing inward. But it also shaped me. It taught me to listen differently, to feel the pulse beneath the surface. It prepared me for the vow I would make years later, when I stood at Arbor Low and gave myself to the Old Ways.
I pledged myself to the Tuatha Dé Danann, the ancient kin of earth and mystery. In return, they gave me a deeper sight: when I meet someone, I see their soul as a tree. Not metaphorically, viscerally. I see its roots tangled in memory, its branches reaching toward longing, its wounds, its blossoms, its seasons. I walk through this soul-tree like a forest path, listening for what’s out of balance, what’s ready to heal.
This is the work I do. Not fixing, not judging, just guiding. I help you remember your shape, your rhythm, your wildness. I help you come home to yourself.