A Season of Tending

For when one conversation opened a door you're not ready to walk through alone.

If you're reading this, we've probably already talked in a Threshold Session.

If not, that's a good place to start.

You know that some things don't resolve in ninety minutes.

Like our bodies, they keep changing shape the longer you live with them.

Which means the thing you were doing 3 years ago might not be working now. Or the language you've been using to describe your work might not fit anymore. Maybe an idea you've been thinking about for months now won't leave you alone. Or your health has changed and now your life has to follow suit.

This is for that.

For the unfinished thing. The unknown thing. The new thing emerging.

What this is for...

the transition that takes its dear, sweet time

the decision you can't seem to make

the book you started on vacation in Costa Rica that's been sitting like an overripe banana on your desk for three months

the business that's becoming something different

the life that's asking to be lived before you've figured out how to explain it.

What unfolds over a season...

Early on, we find the story. Not your résumé, and not a diagnosis, but the older pattern running underneath whatever brought you here.

Sometimes it's a story that's been circling humans for a couple thousand years, that turns out to be yours too. Sometimes it's simpler than that. Either way, once it's named, it becomes something we can actually work with.

We meet for a season: three months, twice a month, seventy minutes at a time. We'll stay connected between sessions through email. Because when something cracks open on a Tuesday, you shouldn't have to wait two weeks to do something with it.

Some sessions are totally practical:

we'll write your About page

work through a decision

practice the conversation you've been dreading

work on your book, class, or project instead of just talking about it

Some seasons call for something deeper

exploring a dream that delivered a powerful but mysterious message

making sense of coincidences that keep returning until you're finally willing to pay attention

tending something you've spent years explaining away because someone once told you it didn't mean anything.

Nothing is too small, or too strange.

because your life is one river: the practical and the symbolic, the ordinary and the sacred, all move through the same current, none of it is separate from the rest.

We follow what's alive. Not what's next on some list.

Why a season?

One Threshold Session can change how you see things.

A season is what it takes to integrate, digest, and alchemize it into a new way of being and see how it fits into your Tuesday afternoon, a hard conversation, a doctor's appointment, or your half-finished manuscript.

You know, your actual, ordinary life.

Because that's where the real work happens.

What begins to change?

The pieces start finding each other. Your intuition and instinct gets turned up, as the noise of worry, looping thoughts, and overwhelm begins to settle. You'll stop trying to do everything at once, and start trusting what actually has energy for you.

You'll have written reflections to return to when life turns the volume back up. Practices that fit the specific places you get stuck. Books and resources chosen for this exact season of your life.

And if you came in with an idea for a book, a business pivot, a decision, or a hard conversation — it will no longer be that thing you've agonized over and suffered with alone for months (or years).

It will move. Loosen. Take a new shape.

The practical part...

$650/month, for a three-month season.

Some seasons are enough on their own. Some naturally become another. We'll figure that out together.

A Season of Tending is available after a Threshold Session, once we've had a chance to find out if this is the right fit for both of us.

Book your Threshold Session

Erin didn’t just help me—she helped me remember myself. She met me in my own rhythm, with kindness and zero pressure, and somehow translated everything I couldn’t name into words that felt true. The process wasn’t about productivity, it was about soul reclamation.

Mary S.

MSN, LA.c