Once upon a December.
This year arrived like a teacher—unpredictable, relentless, and strangely generous.
It held both grief and grace.
I lost my father, and with him a version of myself I’ll never fully be again. I spent countless hours on the mat and in stillness, letting yoga, breath, and ritual hold me together when words couldn’t.
There were new friendships that felt like soul recognition.
A road trip across Montana that reminded me how wide the world still is.
Days teaching preschool—tiny hands, big feelings, sacred reminders of presence.
There was pain too: my dog getting hurt, the ache of moving, the unsteady ground of change.
I fell in love.
I let go of love.
I danced anyway.
I sang karaoke like no one was keeping score. I nourished myself with good food, explored new cities, and followed curiosity wherever it knocked.
This year stripped me down and built me back up—more rooted, more tender, more true.
As I look toward 2026, I’m not wishing for fireworks. I’m choosing calm. Spacious mornings. Deep breaths. Steady joy.
A life that feels aligned, intentional, and softly powerful.
Root&Ritual
This year arrived like a teacher—unpredictable, relentless, and strangely generous.
It held both grief and grace.
I lost my father, and with him a version of myself I’ll never fully be again. I spent countless hours on the mat and in stillness, letting yoga, breath, and ritual hold me together when words couldn’t.
There were new friendships that felt like soul recognition.
A road trip across Montana that reminded me how wide the world still is.
Days teaching preschool—tiny hands, big feelings, sacred reminders of presence.
There was pain too: my dog getting hurt, the ache of moving, the unsteady ground of change.
I fell in love.
I let go of love.
I danced anyway.
I sang karaoke like no one was keeping score. I nourished myself with good food, explored new cities, and followed curiosity wherever it knocked.
This year stripped me down and built me back up—more rooted, more tender, more true.
As I look toward 2026, I’m not wishing for fireworks. I’m choosing calm. Spacious mornings. Deep breaths. Steady joy.
A life that feels aligned, intentional, and softly powerful.
Root & Ritual
Root & Ritual: Finding My Ground After Loss
Find your wings: blog post 2
This past May, I lost my father — and with him, a piece of my foundation. Grief has a way of shaking you at your roots, leaving you searching for something solid to stand on. In the quiet aftermath, I turned back to what I’ve always known: movement, breath, and ritual.
Root & Ritual was born from that space — a place to come home to myself when everything else felt uncertain. The grounding practices I teach — yoga, sauna, time in nature, mindful breath — I teach them, because they are also my own medicine.
Each ritual, no matter how small, is a way to reconnect: to my body, to my memories, to life continuing on.
Through this journey, I’ve learned that healing isn’t about moving on. It’s about rooting deeper — into gratitude, into presence, into love that never really leaves. Root & Ritual has become more than a wellness brand; it’s a living reminder that even in loss, there can be renewal.
Root & Ritual was born from this truth: that tending to yourself is an act of resilience. Grief taught me that grounding doesn’t mean standing still.
To everyone walking through grief, I see you.
The ROOT RITUAL
The Root Ritual
The Root Ritual began with the intention to become the strongest version of myself, so I could help others to heal and become stronger versions of themselves. It wasn’t just a vision; it was a mission.
Since leaving a life behind of childhood neglect, leading to choosing abusive relationships into my adult life, I decided to rebegin- beginning from the inside.
For the next 5 years I began daily yoga practices, sauna sessions and jumps into the cold waters of the Columbia Gorge and the Oregon Coast. I started to incorporate teaching art therapy and running once my body and mind were strong and ready.
I continue to teach this ritual and help others heal. From Root to Bliss.
I want to help you heal. I want to hear your story and show you that it’s going to continue to evolve in beautiful ways and you will evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now.
Later will take care of itself. It always does.
With Love,
Root & Ritual