Good evening dear ones —
late-night email after everyone is tucked in. I got inspired and wanted to tell you right away.
I’ve been deep in rebirthing breathwork land for a while now, and something has become really clear to me.
The retreat I’m holding this fall is intentionally tiny.
Four overnight spots. A few commuter spots for locals. And while I love the intimacy of that… I also realized I want way more of you to experience this work.
Because this style of breath and awareness practice has changed my life in ways that are both wildly profound and almost offensively simple.
So I thought… let’s make it more accessible.
We made up a word in training.
A breathe.
As in, come have a breathe.
I know. It is not grammatically correct. I still love it.
So let’s have a breathe. Monthly.
Let me tell you why.
The year was 2019.
I was pregnant with my second. My first was just turning two, and I was determined to do this whole sibling thing right from the get-go. So I signed up for a parenting course that blended nervous system education, child-centered play therapy, and breathwork.
I didn’t know it then, but I was stumbling into a practice that would become one of the most reliable ways back to myself.
The breath part was… laughably simple.
Lay down.
Breathe.
Notice what is happening in your body.
That’s it.
No clearing your mind. No transcendence. No becoming a better person. Just awareness.
Honestly? It felt almost offensively simple. And yet I kept coming back.
Then came 2021.
I was selling the yoga studio that had been my identity before children.
We were moving states.
Life felt like it was dismantling itself in real time.
And my husband told me he wanted a divorce.
I was furious.
Truly.
I felt wronged.
I felt justified.
I felt like I had every right to burn the whole thing down.
But instead…
I came back to the breath.
And I let myself be supported.
A dear friend booked me a ticket to BC and had me come lick my wounds for a few days. (Angel, if you’re reading this—I love you forever.)
So every day, I laid down and breathed for twenty minutes.
Not because breathing was going to solve my marriage.
But because it gave me enough room to feel what I was actually feeling without immediately reacting to it.
Enough room for the grief underneath the rage.
Enough room for the yoga therapy practices I already trusted to actually land.
Enough space to stop twisting my own arm—or mentally twisting everyone else’s—trying to force life into the shape I thought it needed to take.
And slowly, something changed.
Not because I forced forgiveness.
Not because I spiritually bypassed my rage.
Not because I became some shinier evolved version of myself.
The breath just gave me enough nervous system capacity to hear myself.
Enough nervous system room to respond instead of react.
To let intuition come back online.
To stop fighting reality long enough to return to myself.
And within those 21 days, my husband told me he could see again why he fell in love with me in the first place.
That matters.
But honestly?
The bigger miracle?
I could see myself again.
So.
This Saturday feels like the perfect place to begin.
New moon in Taurus.
A beautiful time to plant seeds around what matters most.
To get quiet enough to hear yourself.
To notice what your deeper self has been trying to say beneath all the noise.
We’ll keep it simple:
20 minutes intention setting
20 minutes breathe
20 minutes debrief / integration
No experience needed.
These monthly breathes will be pay what you can.
I genuinely don’t want cost to be the reason people don’t come experience this work.
Especially right now.
Practices that help us grow nervous system capacity feel less like luxury and more like basic life skills.
Saturday, May 16
7pm MST / 6pm PST / 9pm EST
for my pals down under: 11am AEST ☀️
Come have a breathe with me this Saturday.
See you under the dark moon. 🌙
Love,
P.S. If you’re more of a one-on-one human, or if the fall retreat is the thing quietly tapping your shoulder instead, both are here.
