Loneliness, Belonging, and Mental Health Awareness

by Kristin | Grief and Loss, Transformation

Belonging Isn’t Bestowed—It’s Grown

What loneliness, nervous system science, and a little girl in love with a tree can teach us during Mental Health Awareness Month

Belonging isn’t a luxury. It’s a fundamental human need—a biological and psychological state where we feel seen, valued, and connected as part of a group or community. It allows us to thrive, not just survive.

And yet…

Over half of Americans report feeling lonely. Not just alone, but lacking meaningful connection, even in relationships.Some even acknowledge a withdrawal from efforts to engage socially

Loneliness is now considered a public health crisis. In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General issued an advisory naming social disconnection as a serious threat to public health, on par with smoking 15 cigarettes a day. The research is sobering: chronic loneliness increases our risk for heart disease, stroke, depression, anxiety, dementia, and even premature death.

So if you feel like you’re missing a sense of belonging—you’re far from alone. In fact, you’re in crowded (and likely quiet) company.

But here’s the thing…

Belonging isn’t something we earn by performing or perfecting. It’s not bestowed upon us by an external source.

Belonging is a verb.

It’s something we practice.

It grows, like a root system—slow and unseen at first, then quietly anchoring us into life.

Acknowledge the Longing

The first step? Naming the ache.

Admitting we long for belonging can feel scary, especially in a culture that worships independence and stoicism. If you grew up Gen X (or earlier), you might’ve internalized the myth that asking for connection = weakness.

I call B.S.

Craving connection is human.

Owning that ache is powerful.

It’s the moment we start shifting from self-protection to self-honoring.

Why We Struggle

There are a few sneaky culprits that get in the way of feeling like we belong:

1. The Risk Regulation Theory

Our nervous systems are wired to scan for social threat:
Is this group safe? Will I be rejected? Should I stay quiet just in case?

This hypervigilance once helped us survive. But in modern life, it often leads us to silence our truth or disconnect before anyone else can.

This is healthy, but with the caveat and knowledge that we tend to believe our own biases.

2.) Acceptance Prophecy

When we assume others like us, we tend to be warmer, more open, and engaged. This leads others to respond positively in return—reinforcing the connection we originally hoped for.

It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. Unfortunately, so is the opposite.

3. The Liking Gap

Studies show that people generally like us more than we think they do. But many of us walk away from interactions overanalyzing and assuming we were “too much” or “not enough.” This keeps us from trying again.

4. The Beautiful Mess Effect

We assume vulnerability will make people judge us. But research shows the opposite: when we share our realness, people are more likely to see us as relatable, courageous, even endearing.

A Little Girl and a Tree

There is a story about a little girl who regularly visited an old-growth tree near her home. She ran straight up to it, arms open, and declared: “I love you! I’m so glad you’re here!” Over the years she made that tree her shelter, whispered her secrets to the leaves, leaned up against the bark to do her homework and nap in the sun.

She didn’t wait for permission.
She didn’t try to blend in.
She belonged herself to that place—with joy, vulnerability, and delight.

This story reminds me: belonging begins with how we show up.

Belonging is a verb - holding hands with nieces in front of the big tree

Belonging and Mental Health

During Mental Health Awareness Month, it’s crucial we name this truth: disconnection is more than emotional pain—it’s a risk factor.

When we feel like we don’t belong anywhere, it chips away at our self-worth. It fuels shame, isolation, and despair. And it makes it harder to reach for support when we need it most.

The antidote isn’t forced socializing or shallow positivity. It’s cultivating real belonging—rooted in self-acceptance, aligned community, and nervous system safety.

And that kind of belonging?
It’s not instant.
But it is possible.

So What Can You Do?

If you’re longing for belonging, here are a few ways to begin:

Choose a group, activity, or space you’re genuinely willing to invest effort in. Belonging takes time. It doesn’t grow from one-off meetings—it grows from consistency.
Assume your importance—What if the group already wants what you offer? Walk in like your presence is a gift. Because it is.
Don’t force it. Don’t rush it. Belonging takes time and consistency.
Let it be discerning. You’re not just looking for any place to fit. You’re looking for alignment. Listen for resonance, not just availability.
Give your gifts. Your quirks, your stories, your love for weird little things? Let them be visible. That’s how we find our people.
Ask yourself:

What if I acted like I belonged here?
What if I showed up like I was wanted?
What if I believed others already valued me?

Practice This with Curiosity

You don’t have to join a hundred groups or bare your soul to strangers. Start small:

Send a “thinking of you” text to someone you care about.
Join a class or circle that sparks curiosity.
Share a bit more of yourself in one safe place.
Ask someone what they love—and really listen.

Journal Questions

What would it look like for you to belong yourself?
To act like your presence matters?
To risk being seen?
To sit next to someone and ask what they love?

This is how we begin to belong to ourselves—so we can also belong to each other.

These aren’t just actions. They’re invitations.

Each one is a seed. And belonging grows in the soil of gentle courage.

You Matter Here

If you’re still reading, I want you to know: your longing is sacred.
Your presence matters. Your story matters. You don’t have to hide the ache.

This is how we begin to belong to ourselves—so we can also belong to each other.

I’d Love to Hear from You

What part of this blog post stirred something in you?
And if you’re walking through a season where loneliness feels loud—please know: you’re not broken. You’re at a threshold. And you’re not alone.

The Wild Intelligence of Trees (and What It Means for Your Healing)

by Kristin | Transformation

The Forest Remembers (and So Do We): What Trees Teach Us About Transformation

Inspired by “Never Underestimate the Intelligence of Trees” by Brandon Keim

While others build empires, the forest mothers.

It listens. It remembers. It waits.

In a culture that celebrates speed, performance, and constant growth, we rarely pause to wonder how life sustains itself in the absence of those things. We rarely ask how true resilience is built.

But deep in the forest—beneath the moss, beneath the fallen leaves, beneath even the soil itself—there are networks. Fungal webs connecting root to root, tree to tree, in a vast, pulsing intelligence that defies our Western frameworks. An ancient internet of care.

Ecologist Suzanne Simard has spent decades studying this subterranean world. Her research on mycorrhizal networks—those threadlike fungal connections between trees—reveals something that Indigenous peoples have always known: the forest is not a collection of individuals, but a living community.

A mother tree will send nutrients to her kin. She can sense which seedlings are struggling. She’ll adjust her behavior based on their needs, even as she’s dying.
She remembers. She responds. She chooses.

This is not metaphor. This is biology.

And it echoes through everything I teach inside the Wildwoven Framework.

🍃 Transformation is not a solo journey.

It’s seasonal. Relational. Alive.

When I guide women through deep change, I don’t ask them to “push through.”
🌱 I ask them to root in.
To listen to the signals beneath the surface.
To stop blooming in the middle of Winter just because the world tells them to.

Like the trees:

we carry memories in our rings—in our bodies, in our breath, in the chemistry of our nervous systems.
we know what it is to care for our kin, to conserve energy when resources are scarce, to sense when it’s time to grow and when it’s time to rest.
we feel what is needed long before we can explain it.

But too often, we forget.

Or we’re told those ways of knowing don’t count.

We’re taught that:

🍃 intuition isn’t intelligence.
🍃 grief is weakness.
🍃 stillness is laziness.

This is the lie of linearity.

And the forest knows better.

What if we stopped measuring intelligence by its proximity to human performance?

🌿 What if memory lived in tree rings and soil?
🌿 What if communication didn’t require a voice?
🌿 What if grief and generosity were not opposites—but dance partners in the web of life?

This is what we return to in the Wildwoven Way.

It’s not self-help.

🍂 It’s Earth-wisdom.
It’s the sacred intelligence of cycles and bodies and networks and kin.
It’s permission to unhook from the empire long enough to remember your belonging.

The forest remembers.

And somewhere in you, so do you.

🌱 If you’re craving a rooted, seasonal map for your own transformation—one that honors where you are, not where the world says you should be—take the Wildwoven Assessment (link below).

You’ll uncover your current season and receive a guide with personalized insights into the lessons, medicine, and common traps of this phase of growth.

Discover the Rhythm of Your Becoming

The Wildwoven Seasonal Assessment isn’t just another personality quiz—it’s a guide to understanding where you are in your transformation. Whether you’re shedding an old identity, deep in the unknown, or stepping into something new, this framework helps you name your season, work with its energy, and move through change in a way that feels aligned, embodied, and true.

✨ Take the assessment and find your season. ✨

Start Your Wildwoven Journey

What Plants Can Teach Us About Healing, Growth, and Seasonal Transformation

by Kristin | Healing, Identity, Transformation

🌿 What the Plants Are Trying to Tell Us

On root wisdom, sacred boundaries, and remembering how to grow

I didn’t set out to propagate plants.

But somewhere in my early spring season, I started channeling my latent creative passion into my family’s short term rental setups, and discovered I had a knack for creating cozy, welcoming places. This led to a fetish with plants as living decorations, and then an obsession with tying knots into macrame plant hangers. And in order to have enough plants to go into the plant hangers –without going broke– I decided to try my hand at propagating.

When a small army of baby philodendrons and spider plants began to overtake my window sills –and, thanks to the macrame plant hangers– my walls, and ceiling, I noticed something:

The plants weren’t just surviving.
They were sensing. Adjusting. Remembering.
And in their quiet way, they were asking a question I had long forgotten how to ask myself:

What do I need in order to grow?

In our culture, we’re taught that intelligence lives in the head.
That logic is king. That healing is linear. That transformation is a 5-step checklist, and if you don’t transform “properly” you’re a failure.

But the Wildwoven Way—and, it turns out, a whole new wave of plant cognition research—whispers something different.

“Where there is life, there is already mind.”

That’s Paco Calvo, founder of the Minimal Intelligence Lab in Spain.

His research on plant behavior suggests that what we think of as “cognition” isn’t something that happens in the brain alone (or even at all), but something that happens in the relationship between an organism and its environment.

In the sensing. The adapting. The timing. The flow.

Which sounds a lot like the Wildwoven Framework to me.

So what if we let plants remind us not just of who we are, but how we change?

Below are three plant-inspired metaphors—paired with the Wildwoven seasons they reflect—and a few gentle invitations for each one. They’re not steps. They’re not to-dos. They’re threads to follow if it feels right to you.

Split view of a seedling in snowy Olympic forest with detailed roots beneath the soil, representing the Winter season of quiet wisdom and inner transformation.

❄️ WINTER | Root Apex ↔ Root Medicine

Stillness. Deep sensing. Restoring the roots.

The root apex is the sensitive, subterranean tip of a plant’s root system. It’s where sensing and adaptation begin—detecting moisture, nutrients, gravity, and even kinship. It’s how the plant knows where to grow, even in the dark.

But here’s the thing: the root apex lives underground.
Unseen. Slow. Quiet.

Just like the Winter season of transformation.

This is the season our culture tells us to skip—when everything visible seems still, –and therefore, according to western culture, unimportant—but everything essential is happening beneath the surface.

It’s where gut-level clarity begins.

Where the soul whispers instead of shouts.

And we stop performing to start listening.

🌾 Winter Invitations:

Honor your need for quiet before clarity.
Notice what your roots are reaching for—and what they’re pulling away from.
Resist the urge to “make meaning” too soon. Just sense.
Trust that the dark is fertile, not empty.

What if your next chapter is already germinating… but just isn’t visible yet?

🌱 EARLY SPRING | Sensorimotor Intelligence ↔ Emergence

The first green shoots. Tender yeses. Gentle experiments.

In early spring, plants don’t explode into bloom—they explore.
They sense. Shift. Respond. Pause.

What plant cognition reveals is that plants aren’t passive or predictable. They don’t simply react—they interpret. They remember past threats. They anticipate the sun. They adapt their growth based on current and changing conditions.

This is the sacred intelligence of early spring:
Tiny movements with massive wisdom behind them.

When you’re in the early spring season of transformation, it’s easy to doubt yourself. You’re fragile but stirring. You may feel like you’re “not doing enough.” But emergence isn’t performance—it’s a series of conversations with the world.

🌾 Spring Invitations:

Let your growth be guided by sensation instead of pressure.
Try one small, brave thing—then pause and listen for feedback. Not external feedback, internal feedback. How did it feel? What would you adjust?
Trust your ability to adapt in real time.
Begin before you feel 100% ready.

What if readiness is revealed through the doing, not before it?

🌼 LATE SPRING / EARLY SUMMER | Photosynthesis ↔ Creative Expression

Unfurling. Play. Wild bloom. Voice.

Photosynthesis is how plants turn light into nourishment.
Creative expression is how we do the same.

Your poems, your voice, your rewilded joy, your full-body laugh in the middle of a hard day—these are not “extras.”
They’re how your soul eats.
They’re how you metabolize aliveness.

And just like plants don’t photosynthesize in darkness, we can’t keep creating from a place of depletion, shame, or silence.

In the Late Spring and Summer seasons of transformation, expression isn’t just allowed—it’s essential.

🌾 Late Spring and Summer Invitations:

Let something bloom without apologizing for it.
Create from joy, not just urgency.
Let visibility be a form of nourishment—not a transaction.
Say what you actually want to say.

What if your creativity is how the light gets into the world?

🐦‍🔥 ROOTED SUMMER | Shade Avoidance ↔ Boundaries as Direction

Embodiment. Discernment. Deep aliveness.

Plants can sense when they’re entering crowded territory.
They absorb red light but reflect far-red light—so if the far-red increases, they know they’re surrounded and can choose to grow in a different direction.

This is called shade avoidance.

They’re not avoiding out of fear.
They’re discerning where they can thrive.

What a beautiful reframe for boundaries.

In the rooted Summer season of transformation, we don’t set boundaries to shut the world out—we set them to grow toward the light.

We’re not avoiding people—we’re attuning to where our energy is best invested.

🌾 Rooted Summer Invitations:

Let your boundaries be data, not drama.
Notice where you’re shrinking—and redirect.
Ask: “Where is the light now?”
Practice saying no with compassion and conviction.

What if your boundaries are the blueprint for your next evolution?

🌾 So… What season are you in?

If you’re reading this and nodding, maybe you’re already on the Wildwoven path.
Or maybe it’s been calling to you for a while now.

This isn’t about plants, really.

It’s about remembering how to be a living thing in a world that treats us like machines.

Hi. I’m Transformation Coach, Kristin Halberg.

My work is rooted in story, nervous system wisdom, and nature’s blueprint for transformation.

I don’t offer 10-step programs—I offer companionship, reflection, and a map made of seasons.

If you want to explore more:

🐦‍🔥 Book a Compass Call to explore options for working with me.

🌿 Take the Seasonal Assessment to find your current season

✨ Explore my other blog posts for more poetic rebellions like this one.

📖 Or sit with this post and let it work on you like good compost

Because you, too, are a living, sensing, wildly intelligent thing.
And it’s not your job to force the bloom.

It’s your birthright to grow in your own time.

The Metamorphosis of Identity: Why Major Life Transitions Need More Support

by Kristin | Identity, Transformation

When we talk about transformation, we rarely acknowledge how deeply it reshapes us.

Even during pregnancy, we focus on the physical changes—the expanding belly, the shifting weight.

But the transformation runs far deeper. Pregnancy rewires the brain, reshapes identity, and even leaves behind literal, cellular traces in the body forever.

What if we recognized that change isn’t just logistical—it’s biological, psychological, and deeply personal? That even the most chosen reinvention rattles the very foundation of who we thought we were?

Because here’s the thing: Change isn’t just about what’s next. It’s about what’s falling away.

The Five Pillars of Identity—And What Happens When They Collapse

Who we are is built on layers—some visible, some hidden.

Five core pillars shape our sense of self:

What we do (our roles and work).
Who we belong to (relationships and community).
What we understand (knowledge and confidence in how the world works).
How much control we have (our ability to shape our lives).
What gives life meaning (our belief systems—the thing that holds it all together).

When one of these shifts, we wobble. When they all collapse at once? We come undone.

When Everything Falls Apart at Once

In one calendar year, I lost every foundational piece of who I thought myself to be.

I was fired from the company I had grown up in—not because of performance, but because I stood up to a toxic boss.
All of my close friends were immersed in the early years of motherhood—while I was still single.
I was in grad school, drowning in the “conscious incompetence” phase of learning, no longer confident in what I knew.
And then—the earthquake I never saw coming—my large, tightly woven family fractured in a way that left deep cracks we still feel 18 years later.

If my job was my stability, my family was my gravity. We weren’t just close—we were woven together, each of us anchoring the others, for better or worse. Family wasn’t just a part of life; it was the bedrock of who I knew myself to be in the world. And then, suddenly, the foundation split.

So there I was, untethered. No job. No clear path. No steady relationships. No certainty about who I was becoming.

I’d faced big transitions before. I’d reinvented myself, changed careers, weathered breakups, and found my way back to solid ground.

But never all at once. Never like this.

This time, I had no job. No clear path. No steady relationships. No certainty about who I was becoming.

But I still had one thing left to trust.

When everything else in my life felt uncertain, I had nature.

It was my constant, my quiet refuge. I grew up listening to the rhythm of waves, tracing the seasons like a second heartbeat. If nothing else, I could trust this: Nature had a rhythm. It had a wisdom. It made sense.

So, in the middle of my unraveling, I did the only thing that had ever made me feel steady: I turned on a nature documentary.

“Ahhh. At least Nature still has my back. So soothing.”

I settled in, watching a mama horse nuzzle her baby. See? Beautiful. Predictable. Comforting.

And then—a stallion came racing over and kicked the baby horse to death.

I shot up, turned off the TV, and shook my fist at the sky.

“Even caterpillars get a stick!!”

The Myth of the Smooth Transition

The caterpillar goes into the chrysalis thinking it knows itself. It is a fuzzy little land creature, it munches leaves, it has a plan.

Then one day, everything inside of it turns to goo.

No legs. No body. Just a primordial soup of cells trying to remember what comes next. And here’s the kicker: even in its most melted-down, what-the-actual-hell-is-happening-to-me moment, the caterpillar still gets a stick. A tiny branch to hang from while it un-becomes itself.

Humans? We don’t get that.

Or at least, we don’t think we do—because modern culture treats transition like a self-improvement project instead of an existential reckoning.

Right now, we treat major life changes as isolated, intellectual events. We plan for them, but we don’t prepare for them. We expect people to just “figure it out.”

Leaders are given new roles but not the space to integrate their evolving identity.
Activists burn themselves out because our culture treats urgency as more valuable than sustainability.
We are given barely a moment to grieve before we’re expected to move on—before the loss even finishes echoing in our bones.
People walk away from entire versions of their lives—careers, relationships, belief systems, communities—and are told to “just be grateful” instead of being supported through the grief that naturally comes with it. (And to be clear: I don’t mean death or reincarnation—I mean the profound identity shifts that come with major life transitions, the kind that feel like leaving one version of yourself behind to become another.)

We don’t talk about how reinvention feels like losing your native language. We don’t acknowledge that you can want something deeply and still mourn what it’s replacing.

And so, instead of creating systems of care for transformation, we push through it alone—convincing ourselves that struggle is just part of the deal.

What If We Did It Differently?

What if we approached leadership growth, activism, and personal reinvention the way we approach matrescence?

What if we gave people sticks while they melted into something new?

What would change if we:

Treated career shifts like identity shifts, offering actual support instead of assuming competence will carry people through?
Built activism structures that sustained people beyond crisis moments?
Created rituals around transitions—so people felt witnessed, not just expected to adapt?

Because the truth is, transformation doesn’t work on a corporate timeline. It’s a Wildwoven process—seasonal, cyclical, deeply personal.

And here’s where I come in.

My work is about guiding people through these wild, uncharted shifts. Helping them navigate the messy middle and emerge on the other side, not just changed, but rooted in who they were meant to become.

If you’re in a season of reinvention—whether in leadership, activism, or your personal life—you don’t have to figure it out alone.

🌿 Navigating a Major Life Transition? Find Out Where You Are in the Cycle.

“Transformation doesn’t happen on a corporate timeline. It follows seasons, cycles, and deep internal shifts. If you’re in the middle of a big change—career shifts, leadership growth, activism, or reinvention—you don’t have to navigate it blindly.”

👉 Start Here: Take the Wildwoven Seasonal Assessment

Think of it as a compass for your comeback. The assessment helps place you in the season of transformation you’re in—so you can stop fighting where you are and start working with the natural rhythm of change.

🔹 What happens next?

You’ll receive a guide packed with a blend of science-backed, soul-centered strategies designed to fit the natural rhythm every transformation follows.

Who it’s for: Women navigating identity-shaking transitions. Whether you’re shedding an old version of yourself, deep in the unknown, stepping into something new… or figuring out how to speak your truth inside the chaos of these times.

👉 Take the Assessment & Start Your Journey

Rediscover Your Magick: How Transformation Coaching Can Help Women Reclaim Their Power

by Kristin | Coaching FAQ, Identity, Transformation

Have you ever felt like life pulled the rug out from under you, leaving you unsure of who you are or where to go next? Perhaps you’ve experienced heartbreak, faced a health crisis, navigated a major life transition, or found yourself questioning your identity after years of following the “rules.” If this resonates, you’re not alone—and transformation coaching might be exactly what you need.

What Is Transformation Coaching?

Transformation coaching is a holistic approach to personal growth that supports you during times of deep change. It’s not just about setting goals or creating action plans (though we’ll do that too). It’s about helping you reconnect with your true self, heal emotional wounds, and create a life aligned with your values and desires.

Unlike therapy, which often focuses on past trauma, or traditional life coaching, which emphasizes external achievements, transformation coaching addresses the emotional and energetic shifts needed to navigate identity-shaking transitions. It’s about empowering you to step into the most authentic version of yourself.

Common Challenges Women Face

Life’s challenges have a way of leaving us feeling stuck, lost, or unsure of who we are. Women often come to transformation coaching because they’re experiencing:

Shame or self-doubt after a major life event like infidelity, divorce, or a health diagnosis.
Loss of identity after becoming a mother, ending a long-term relationship, or experiencing a career change.
Emotional overwhelm from juggling the demands of single motherhood, caregiving, or personal healing.
A longing for more meaning, purpose, and fulfillment but not knowing where to start.

How I Help You Rediscover Your Magick

As a Transformation Coach, I specialize in guiding women through these identity-shaking changes to help them ditch shame, reclaim their unique magick, and cultivate deep self-love. My approach blends decades of leadership experience with powerful tools like:

Neuroscience-backed techniques: Rewire limiting beliefs and create lasting, positive change.
Shamanic healing practices: Release emotional blocks, tap into your intuition, and find inner peace.
Expressive arts and journaling: Explore your emotions and rediscover your creativity as a path to healing.
Nature rituals: Reconnect with the natural world to ground yourself and find clarity.

This work isn’t about “fixing” you. It’s about helping you remember your inherent worth and guiding you back to a place of self-love and steadfast confidence.

Real Stories of Transformation

One client, a single mother navigating several big changes in her life, came to me because she was stressed and overwhelmed with all the choices facing her. Through our work together, she learned to set healthy boundaries, make positive choices for herself and her son, and build a life that felt meaningful and joyful. Today, she’s got her own business, and feels more empowered than ever before.

Another client, recovering from infidelity, worked with me to heal her heartbreak and rebuild her confidence. By the end of our time together, she had not only found peace but had also uncovered a deeper sense of self-worth and resilience.

Is Transformation Coaching Right for You?

If you’re:

Tired of feeling stuck or overwhelmed,
Ready to heal from shame and self-doubt,
Longing to rediscover your purpose and passions, or
Craving a life that feels deeply aligned with your true self…

Then transformation coaching could be the catalyst you need. You don’t have to navigate this journey alone.

Take the First Step

Are you ready to ditch the shame, reclaim your power, and love yourself clear down to your bones?

Let’s talk. I invite you to schedule a free discovery call to explore how transformation coaching can support you on your journey.

Celebrating … the Birth of Practical-Magick

by Kristin | Ordinary Life, Transformation

The Birth of Practical-Magick: A Journey from Chaos to Clarity

I’m going to come straight out and say it: my life has been intense over the past several years. But then, transformation often is.

Between December 2016 and January 2019, my partner and I lost six loved ones. In the midst of that, we were forced to change homes and chose to move into his family’s ancestral Finnish-style log home. It’s lovely—but also old and in constant need of care and repair.

a morning coffee ritual can be part of practical-magick

We’re both self-employed, and when you’re navigating profound loss and upheaval, it’s hard to find the energy to bring in clients. Financial stress followed. And this was all BEFORE 2020 turned the world upside down.

Transforming Comparison Judgment

Like so many women, I often fall into “comparison worthiness,” telling myself I shouldn’t complain because others have it worse. And sure, that’s true. But as a wise friend once posted:

“We can be grateful for what we have AND feel depressed. We can hold compassion for someone in a darker space AND feel anguish in our own space. We can recognize our luck AND cry for five hours at our misfortune. We can feel all the feelings AND be a better human for it.”

—Becca

But instead of offering myself that grace, I tortured myself with “comparison judgment.” I watched other practitioners “making it” by following the latest guru-approved marketing trend—“Fill Your Retreats,” “Pack the Room,” “Sell Your Beta Course.” I tried them all (well, most). And none of them worked for me. My business barely grew, leaving me feeling like a failure at entrepreneurship.

And it wasn’t just my business. I wasn’t following through on promises to myself. I let go of daily creative practices. I spent less time in the lake, with family, reading, moving my body. It all started slipping away.

The Gift of an Injured Shoulder

Then came the unexpected gift—an injured shoulder, pandemic unemployment, and a financial cushion that gave me permission to pause. To heal. Physically, yes. But also emotionally. Spiritually.

Who knew that a car accident leading to surgery and a long recovery would be the catharsis I needed?

ca·thar·sis /kəˈTHärsəs/
noun
“the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.”

I didn’t. Not at first. I was frustrated. I wasn’t healing as fast as expected. I had to take more time off work than I “should.” My business languished.

And yet… I continued physical therapy. Somatic therapy. Created beautiful spaces in my garden. Swam. Laughed. Cried. Restored my family’s rental cabin. Spent time with my partner. My friends. Myself.

And I hired a marketing coach who let me move at my own, slow pace.

Rooting In and Growing

My goal became simple: root into my business. Really understand what I do. So, I wrote about it. Every single morning. Journaling through frustration, through repetition, through slow, unfolding clarity.

Who is my client? What do I DO? What is my thought leadership? My philosophy? What makes me different? Unique?

What I came to realize was that over those long, stressful years, I had grown.

I’m no longer afraid of the shadows. I can stand with my clients in their darkest moments without feeling the need to rush them back into the light. I can hold duality better. I no longer feel like I have to be perfect, or that my whole life needs to look like an Instagram highlight reel.

I realized that my greatest gift is… me.

My history. My eclectic experiences. My energy. My humor. My way of weaving science and story, physiology and myth, structured tools and sacred mystery. Anyone can teach these things, but no one else can do it quite like I do.

Learning from the Trees

Over time, as the seasons turned and the leaves fell, my business evolved too:

What I DO is hold sacred space for women to fully live their messy, beautifully sacred lives. To be imperfect AND radiant at the same time. To slow down. To ponder. To love. To root into themselves. To make room for mystery. To stop rushing toward an endless finish line.

I offer them a sanctuary where they can be seen, heard, and loved—exactly as they are.

The Birth of Practical-Magick

And who I AM is an Intuitive Soul Guide. A Sacred Depths Practitioner. A Transformational Coach.

I study human physiology, the neurobiology of emotions, the psychobiology of women. But I also immerse myself in myths, archetypes, and mystery. Mother Earth is my second mother. Creative practices—art, writing, movement—are my medicine.

THIS. This is what I do. And what makes it Magick… is me.

I’ve always called what I do “Practical-Magick.”

And so, this new/old business is birthed in darkness, ready to walk with others through both shadow and light.

Welcome.

To Practical-Magick.

Come inside. Explore. Stay awhile.

Much love,

💖 Kristin