Hi, I’m Kirsten.

The first time it really hit me, I had everything that was supposed to add up to a good life. A thriving business, a relationship with a genuinely nice man, a beautiful house. Nothing to complain about.

Everything looked “fine”.

And… every morning I woke up anxious and overwhelmed. I knew I wasn't doing the work I was supposed to be doing in the world. I knew the man I was with wasn't the right man for me. Even my house didn't feel like home. It was like I was living someone else's life. I didn't know exactly what I wanted, just that it wasn't this.

At night I numbed out with wine, Netflix, and food I didn't really want. I lost energy and gained weight. I hardly recognized myself anymore but I kept going through the motions. Teaching. Parenting. Traveling. Pretending.

I figured if I just kept moving, I wouldn't have to deal with it.

So I went to India to lead another retreat. Still numbing. Still lost. One afternoon I found myself in a dusty bookshop staring at the same shelves I'd devoured for decades: yoga, psychology, personal growth. Normally, I’d be happily hunting for my next fix, that one book that would have all the answers. But that day, I just felt done. 

My life had become like a self-help playlist stuck on repeat… “Don’t Stop Believin’” straight into “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” Hopeful. Exhausting. And getting me absolutely nowhere.

That's when a book literally fell off the shelf in front of me. It was about Kali, the goddess of transformation. Fierce and unapologetic, she reminds us that sometimes you have to let go of what's familiar to move toward what's true. Even and especially when it’s uncomfortable. I stayed up all night reading.

The very next day, in the suffocating heat of the Old Delhi Metro, I had my first panic attack.

The irony wasn't lost on me. I'd spent decades teaching people how to breathe, meditate, and stay calm. And yet there I was, shaking, gasping, and undeniably losing my shit. Midlife didn't just quietly tap me on the shoulder. It showed up with combat boots and a bad attitude and totally kicked my ass.

It was time for me to stop lying to myself about what wasn’t working.

I ended the relationship, moved, and rebuilt my life in a way that felt more like me.

And then midlife came for me again.

My kids grew up and left, and the grief of that hit harder than I expected. On top of that, my hormones picked this exact moment to start acting like rebellious teenagers. Life suddenly felt more confusing, more emotional, harder to manage. I began questioning everything. I could feel how the new relationship I was in, the one that looked absolutely perfect from the outside, demanded I give up too much of myself. I was once again pretzeling into a shape that wasn't mine.

But by now I knew better.

Midlife has a way of making self-abandonment intolerable. What you could get away with at 30 just doesn't fly anymore, and something deep in you starts refusing to play along. So I went back to everything I'd spent thirty years studying and teaching.

But this time it wasn't about trying to fix myself or force my way into a better life. It was about learning how to actually be with what was happening. To be present with the grief, confusion, and the part of me that didn't have answers yet. And at the same time, not settling or giving up on myself. Still asking and choosing what I actually wanted my life to feel like from here.

This was when it stopped being about self-improvement and started becoming something more honest and grounded. A kind of acceptance that didn't mean resignation, but actually created space for something real to emerge.

And in the middle of all of that, I started to see what actually works when your life stops making sense. Not in theory or in a book, but in real life, when everything feels uncertain and you don't know what comes next.

That's where this work comes from.

If you're somewhere in the middle of your own mess right now, feeling lost, stuck, or just done with the life you’ve been living, that’s exactly where we start.

You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to be ready for something to change.

If you're ready to take your life back, let’s talk.