My relationship with my mom for most of my life was, well…complicated. Her diagnosis marked the beginning of the most challenging journey of my life—grieving the inevitable: the loss of my mom, the loss of the relationship we’d never have, and experiencing the full spectrum of my own anger, pain, joy, love, resentment, sadness—all of it, all the time.

I became the primary caretaker for the next five months and moved back into the house I grew up in. There was so much to do: administering medicine, organizing nurse visits, handling her affairs, and honestly, just a lot of time in limbo. The stress and dread became so overwhelming that I was getting physically sick. I was experiencing so much, yet I didn’t have the proper outlet for any of it.

I really thought I was doing fine; I even had a 177-day streak on my wellness app, doing yoga and meditation daily!! But it just wasn’t enough. I needed to stop avoiding the inevitable and dive headfirst into the parts of myself I was most scared of.

I found the power of breathwork amidst a circle of powerful women, and I knew this would be the tool I needed to really dig into my own shadows. This practice, combined with a supportive community, proved to be the antidote I craved to heal my body, my nervous system, and my relationship with my mom. I am eternally grateful that my breath experiences brought my mom and I closer during the darkest days.

After my mom passed, the call to breathe only got louder. I still had so much to process, so much to feel, and so much to move through. The healing had only just begun.

Shortly after, life threw me another storm—literally. I found myself at the epicenter of Hurricane Helene in Western North Carolina, where I witnessed homes and communities being completely washed away. During the storm, my husband and I reached the top of a mountain to avoid the rising river. For hours, while the rain continued to pour down, it was both intense and cold. We did the one thing that was in our control: breathe. The techniques we used kept us warm and calmed our nervous systems, even if only slightly. Once I reached physical safety, I was left with the weight of what I, and so many others, had experienced.

As the community pulled together, everyone brought their superpowers. Some with chainsaws, some with food, and some organizing search parties. My contribution was, again, the power of breath. I began hosting transformative breathwork events in devastated areas where people could come and work through the darkness so that they could be the light for themselves and others.

Tragedy or difficult news never has convenient timing, and the journey to heal 'the storms' of life cannot be done with a quick-fix pill. However, as long as we have breath in our lungs, we can do more than just survive. We can completely transform our lives to be more loving, effective, and resilient people. So, let’s dive headfirst together. I’ve got your back.