Selfistry

Selfistry makes it to Waco!

I have a shelf full of books on personal development, a history of monastic living, and a lineage of rabbis behind me. Maybe your shelves — and your history — look similar.

However ...

If we’re not mindful, we can sometimes become what I call intellectual orphans. We’ve gathered threads of wisdom from so many places ... including yoga intensives, plant medicine journeys, and/or silent retreats. We have lots of data. We have good maps.

But we often lack the most vital element of all: a place to sort through the threads with other people who are aspiring weavers just like us.

At this point in the online learning space, most offerings are built for personal consumption. Evergreen or live. You sit, you watch, you listen. You’re a viewer, not a participant meaningfully engaged with other participants.

I’m offering something else.

I am convening a digital salon called The Art of Being Human.

Historically, salons were the underground of the Enlightenment. They were intimate gatherings, usually led by women, where the rigid rules of institutions were replaced by the alchemy of shared inquiry. They were places where you didn't just learn about philosophy — you became a philosopher. They were places where you didn’t just talk, you inspired one another to walk.

Selfistry is a sanctuary for inquiry. It’s a laboratory for those who are tired of the expert on the stage and are ready for the council of the curious.

We look at the question of how to be a good human through the lenses of history, science, spirituality, and psychology.

But more importantly, we focus on integration. How does your weaving actually show up in your marriage? In your work? In the way you handle a chaotic and uncertain world?

Whether you’re a preferred hermit looking for a purposeful connection or an extrovert looking for a grounding wire, you have a place here.

We’re not just studying the art of being human. We’re practicing it. Real time. Real life.

We begin February 24.

The salon is convening.

The sanctuary is prepared.

View the Syllabus & Claim Your Seat

https://kxnmovoclp9qxt.kartra.com/page/The-Art-of-Being-Human

I’ve been accused of plagiarizing Internal Family Systems.

The truth? I respect the work—but I see things differently.

This blog clarifies a core distinction at the heart of Selfistry: the difference between refining the self… and releasing it.

Parts Work Is Not Enough: Selfistry and IFS - Selfistry What if the “true self” isn’t something to discover, but something to dissolve? In this piece, I explore a subtle but radical distinction between Selfistry... Read more »

Let’s be honest.

We’re swimming in “solutions.”

Productivity hacks. Mindset reframes. Purpose accelerators.

Fix your nervous system. Optimize your mindset. Manifest your dream life.

And yet…

So many of us—especially high-achievers—still feel unmoored. (If we’re willing to admit it.)

We’re burned out.
Disconnected.
Quietly asking: What am I doing all this for?

It’s not because we’re doing it wrong.
It’s because the frame itself is no longer working.

That’s why I designed Reorient Your Self.

Not a self-improvement plan.
Not a webinar of tips and takeaways.

But a space to step back.
To pause.
To recalibrate.
To ask the kind of questions that don’t just shift your strategy — but shift you.

Because Selfistry isn’t another life hack.
And it’s definitely not a spiritual shortcut.
It’s a space to feel.
To think for yourself.
To get honest about what matters.

And to remember how to listen—not just to your mind, but to your whole Self.

It’s reflective.
It’s relational.
It’s uncomfortable at times —
And yes, it’s transformative.

We begin next Wednesday.

If you're ready to reorient — not just what you do, but how you see — come.

https://kxnmovoclp9qxt.kartra.com/page/re-orientyourself

Hello friends,

I’m sitting on my couch in my beautiful home on one of the most breathtaking shorelines in the world. Feeling waves of holy gratitude for the good fortune of this life — my life.

Last night I woke myself from a nightmare, shrieking — one of those blood-curdling screams you only hear in the movies.

My husband is away, so it was just me, waking to myself, the darkness, the racing blood in my veins, my heart pounding.
Honestly, the dream’s content doesn’t matter — nor does the fact that I watched Heretic before going to sleep that night (LOL).

What lingered was how quickly I woke myself up. Or… something woke me. Or… waking up happened. I’m not even sure which verb to use. You with me?

I slept the rest of the night with the light on.

This morning, in meditation, I had the insight that maybe death is like that. Maybe I’ll just wake myself up. Into another realm. And it’ll be quick. Maybe a touch unsettling. But, not only is there nothing to fear… there’s nothing to do. It just happens. All by itself. And I can stop dreading death (or sleep, or loss) — and lean more fully into the miracle of it all.

Which brings me to the well I’m currently drinking from — the work and words of Bayo Akomolafe, who I recently had the gift of sitting with at Esalen: Check out one of his moving conversations here: https://www.ciispod.com/bayo-akomolafe

Years ago, I was ushered into another phase of my life by Stephen Jenkinson. Before that, Ram Dass. Of course, there were — and are — many others. But these figures, these wells, have shaped me deeply. They’ve offered archetypal teachings that carried me through the rivers of transformation.

And I’m learning to trust that. Trust that Life will carry me. Just like the dream did.

Anyway…

I felt moved to share all of this here today. Because honestly, I’m not sure what else to do with myself — or with the beautiful undoing that Bayo is invoking (and nourishing) in me.

And I offer this post with a quiet blessing — that you, too, are drawing from a well with water that nourishes you in these times.

For me, this season is about allowing:
The uncertainty.
The grief.
The terror.
And yes — the joy.

If you’re in a time of undoing or seeking — or feeling something calling you from just beneath the surface — I’m here. This is the work I live for. My next cycle of teaching and mentoring is stirring to life. Stay tuned.