Learn More

A place to get curious.

The Well brings together some familiar practices and some that may be less familiar. This page is here to offer a little more context—what these practices are, where they come from, what they are and are not, and why I work with them.

You don't have to believe anything to be curious. You don't have to know whether something is “for you.” Read, wander around, ask questions, and see what resonates.

A place to get curious.

You don't have to believe anything to be curious. You don't have to know whether something is “for you.” Read, wander around, ask questions, and see what resonates.

Return to Offerings

Hypnotherapy

More than you think. Less mysterious than you think.

If the word hypnosis immediately brings to mind a swinging pocket watch, a stage, and someone barking, “You are getting sleepy...” you not alone and that is not what happens here.

Hypnosis is a natural state of focused attention and increased receptivity to suggestion. We move in and out of hypnotic states every day: becoming absorbed in a book, driving a familiar road and realizing you don't remember the last few miles, getting completely lost in music, or becoming so focused on a thought that the rest of the room temporarily disappears.

Clinical hypnosis simply learns to enter this natural territory intentionally, with purpose. Modern definitions describe hypnosis as a state of consciousness involving focused attention, reduced awareness of peripheral distractions, and an increased capacity to respond to suggestion. Researchers continue to debate exactly what hypnosis is—a distinct state of consciousness, a particular way of directing attention, or some combination of both. What isn't particularly mysterious is that focused attention can change the way we experience thoughts, sensations, emotions and behavior. And yes: you can be hypnotized.

Most people can experience hypnosis to some degree, although people differ in how readily and deeply they respond. You do not need to be unusually suggestible, gullible, spiritual, imaginative, or “good at meditation.” In fact, you have probably already been hypnotized today. You just called it something else.

No one is taking over your mind.

This may be the most important thing to understand. You do not surrender your will in hypnotherapy. You do not become unconscious. You are not asleep, and you are not handing me a remote control to your brain. You remain an active participant. You can hear me. You can speak. You can ask a question. You can change your mind. You can reject a suggestion. You can stop the process. Most people remember what happens during hypnosis, and reputable clinical sources specifically distinguish therapeutic hypnosis from the loss of control portrayed in popular entertainment.

Stage hypnosis is a performance built around willing participants, selection, expectation, social context and entertainment. It is not a useful model for understanding therapeutic hypnosis. And while we can have a little fun with the old stereotypes, the heart of this work is actually quite the opposite of “making someone do something.”

Hypnotherapy is about helping you become more available to your own intentions. Your subconscious is not a magical vault containing every answer to every question. It is, however, an enormous part of the machinery through which you learn, remember, anticipate, imagine, form habits, respond emotionally and automatically navigate the world. The conscious mind can make a decision. The deeper mind is often the place where that decision has to become familiar before it becomes natural. That is where hypnotherapy becomes interesting.

Science and mystery can sit at the same table.

There is a very practical side to hypnosis. Research has explored its use for pain management, anxiety surrounding medical and dental procedures, irritable bowel syndrome, some sleep difficulties, smoking cessation, menopausal symptoms, headaches and other concerns. The strength of evidence varies considerably by application; some uses are well studied, while others remain promising but inconclusive. Hypnosis is best understood as a complementary therapeutic tool rather than a magic cure-all.

And then there is the territory that is harder to put into a clinical research paper. People use hypnosis to explore inner imagery, symbolic experience, spiritual questions, ancestral connection, past-life narratives, meeting guides or other experiences that feel meaningful beyond ordinary waking awareness. Those experiences belong to a different category of knowing. I will not tell you that science has proven the metaphysical interpretation of your experience, nor will I tell you that something is meaningless simply because science cannot currently measure it. There is room for mystery here. My work allows both.

What can hypnotherapy be used for?

The possibilities are surprisingly broad. Depending on your goals and circumstances, hypnotherapy may be explored for:

Habits & behavior

Changing unwanted habits
Smoking cessation
Food and eating patterns
Weight-management support
Nail biting and other repetitive behaviors
Sleep habits
Focus and concentration
Motivation and follow-through

Pain & physical support

Pain management
Headaches
IBS and gut-directed support
Relaxation before medical or dental procedures
Preparation for surgery
Post-operative relaxation and recovery support
Managing some treatment-related symptoms

Hypnosis has also been studied for several of these applications, including pain, IBS, anxiety around procedures, smoking cessation and some menopausal symptoms. Results vary, and hypnotherapy does not replace appropriate medical care.

Deep personal work

Understanding recurring patterns
Exploring the roots of emotional responses
Parts work
Inner-child work
Reframing old beliefs
Developing new internal responses
Trauma-informed exploration
Integrating significant life experiences

Emotional well-being

Anxiety and stress
Phobias and fears
Confidence and self-esteem
Grief
Emotional regulation
Self-compassion
Performance anxiety
Relationship patterns
Boundaries
Recurring emotional responses

Performance & creativity

Athletic performance
Golf and other precision sports
Public speaking
Creative blocks
Musical or artistic performance
Visualization
Learning and concentration
Entering a desired “flow” state

Spiritual & transpersonal exploration

Meeting or communicating with guides
Ancestral exploration
Symbolic journeys
Past-life or between-life exploration
Exploring the nature of consciousness
Deepening meditation
Connecting with inner wisdom
Experiencing expanded states of awareness

Not every application is appropriate for every person, and not every problem needs hypnosis. The first step is always conversation.

You don't have to believe in hypnosis to try it. You only have to be curious enough to experience it.

And perhaps that is the simplest way to describe what happens here: I do not put something into your mind. I help you listen to what is already there.

Reach out for consultation

Shamanism

A way of approaching the visible world through the invisible.

The word shaman gets used very loosely these days. Sometimes it means an Indigenous healer. Sometimes it means someone who works with ceremony, plants, drums, spirits or nature. Sometimes it means a person wearing enough feathers to qualify as their own small bird sanctuary.

I use the word more carefully.

The English word shaman comes through Russian from the Tungusic languages of Siberia, and anthropologists have historically used it as a broad comparative term for people in many different cultures who work with altered states of consciousness, spirits, healing, divination and the relationship between human beings and the more-than-human world. But there is no single worldwide religion called “Shamanism,” and there is no universal shamanic ceremony, theology or initiation. There are many distinct traditions and cultures, each with their own languages, cosmologies, responsibilities and lineages.

So when someone says, “What exactly is shamanism?” the honest answer is: that depends on where you are standing.

There is Siberian shamanism. Amazonian traditions. Andean traditions. Indigenous traditions throughout North America. Traditions across Asia, Africa and elsewhere that anthropologists have sometimes grouped under the same umbrella. The umbrella is useful. It is not the house.

So what do these traditions have in common?

Across enormously different cultures, anthropologists have observed recurring patterns: the practitioner develops a disciplined relationship with altered states of consciousness; interacts with what their tradition understands as spirits, ancestors, powers or other-than-human persons; seeks information or assistance beyond ordinary perception; and brings what is received back into ordinary life for purposes such as healing, guidance, protection, divination or community well-being.

Michael Harner, the anthropologist who played a major role in bringing shamanic journeying into contemporary Western practice, emphasized intentional changes in consciousness and purposeful interaction with spirits as central features of shamanic practice. His later work developed what he called Core Shamanism, an intentionally cross-cultural framework based on features he regarded as common or near-universal rather than reproducing the ceremonies of any one Indigenous culture. This distinction matters.

Shamanism is not a religion. There is no shamanic Bible, no central prophet, no single god or gods, no required creed. It can exist within very different religious and cultural worlds. It is better understood as a way of relating: a way of approaching life that assumes the visible world is not the whole of reality and that relationship with the unseen can be cultivated through disciplined practice. In this sense, shamanic work is experiential.

You don't merely hear that the forest is alive. You learn to listen.

You don't merely hear that ancestors matter. You learn to develop a relationship with them.

You don't merely hear that consciousness may be larger than ordinary waking awareness. You explore.

And then you bring what you discover home.

What does “shamanic” mean at The Well?

This is where the word becomes personal.

My own path has taken me through years of study, ceremony, meditation, plant medicine and direct learning with Indigenous teachers, including Shipibo and Quechua teachers in South and Central America. I do not claim to represent those cultures. I do not claim to speak for their traditions. And I do not borrow the sacred identity of another culture simply because I have learned from it.

I honor the teachers and lineages from whom I have received instruction by continuing to learn, by acknowledging where teachings come from, and by understanding that relationship with a tradition carries responsibility.

At The Well, shamanic describes a way of working with consciousness, nature, symbol, ceremony, spirit and the unseen dimensions of experience. Sometimes that means journeying. Sometimes it means working with ancestors. Sometimes it means ritual. Sometimes it means sitting very quietly and noticing what is already communicating. Sometimes it means working with an ancestral earth medicine in a ceremonial context.

And sometimes the most shamanic thing you can do is wash the dishes and listen to the rain. The sacred does not become less sacred because the laundry exists. Invite divinity into the mundane and know the shaman within.

But can a person actually call themselves a shaman?

This is where things get interesting. There are cultures in which shamanic status is inherited. In others, it may be recognized by elders, developed through apprenticeship, associated with an initiation or life crisis, or understood as a calling that comes through particular experiences. There is no universal credential or pathway.

In contemporary Western settings, shamanic practitioner is often a more precise term, particularly when someone has learned specific shamanic methods without claiming membership in a particular Indigenous tradition. The Foundation for Shamanic Studies itself distinguishes contemporary shamanic practice from culture-specific Indigenous ceremonial traditions.

I understand the concern around cultural appropriation, and I think it deserves an honest answer rather than defensiveness. A person does not become an Indigenous traditional healer because they attend a workshop, take a trip to the Amazon, wear ceremonial clothing or learn a few sacred words. Lineage and culture matter in the world of the seen. And, above all, relationship matters in the world of the unseen. So does humility, in the true sense of the word: Be all that you are, no more, no less.

For me, the word shamanic does not mean “I am an Indigenous shaman.” It describes the way I work. It is the word that most naturally holds my relationship with the unseen, with ceremony, with spirit, with nature and with the ancient human practice of seeking wisdom beyond the ordinary senses. And when someone asks whether I consider myself a shaman, my answer is usually some variation of:

I'll accept the title if you're willing to recognize the shaman within yourself.

Because I don't believe the purpose of this work is to create a hierarchy in which one special person possesses the medicine and everyone else comes to receive it.

You are the medicine.

I am the medicine.

I am your mirror.

The forest is the medicine.

The forest is your parent.

The river is the medicine.

The river is your sibling.

The relationship is the medicine.

The relationship is yourself.

The ceremony is the medicine.

The ceremony is Life.

Sometimes we simply need someone who has walked a particular path a little farther ahead to help us remember how to walk our own.

That is the role I am willing to play.

Shamanism at The Well is not a religion.

The Well is not affiliated with or under any religion, and the work offered here is not dependent upon adopting a particular faith.

You may be Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu, Pagan, spiritual-but-not-religious, uncertain, questioning, atheist, or simply curious.

You do not have to change your theology to sit beside me. You do not have to believe exactly what I believe. You are welcome to come as you are.

What matters to me is that we approach the work with respect, honesty, curiosity and consent. Because beneath all of our different languages for mystery, I keep finding the same invitation: Pay attention.

Something is always communicating.

Listen.

Connect to book or consult

Death Doula

Making room for the threshold.

Death is the one experience every human being will eventually have, and yet in much of modern culture we have become remarkably uncomfortable talking about it. We know how to prepare for birth. We have ceremonies for weddings, graduations and other beginnings. We have hospitals, specialists and entire industries devoted to extending and preserving life.

But when death approaches, many of us suddenly discover that we don't know what to say. We don't know what to ask. We don't know whether we should talk about death at all. And sometimes the person who is dying is the one who is most ready to have the conversation.

An end-of-life or death doula is a non-medical companion who offers practical, emotional, spiritual and sometimes ceremonial support to a person who is dying and to the people who love them. The role can begin long before the final days and may continue through the dying process and into bereavement. Doulas complement the work of hospice, palliative care and other professional caregivers rather than replacing them. There is no single prescription for what this looks like. And that is part of the beauty.

So what does a death doula actually do?

Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we sit quietly. Sometimes we laugh. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes there are practical things to figure out: wishes for care, conversations with family, questions about what is coming, creating a plan, making the environment more comfortable, finding resources, or simply helping everyone understand what is happening.

Sometimes there is unfinished business. A letter that needs to be written. A forgiveness that wants to be spoken. A story that wants to be told. A fear that has been carried alone for forty years and suddenly feels safe enough to say out loud. Sometimes the person dying wants to talk about God. Or reincarnation. Or what happens after death. Or whether they will see their mother again. Or they can already see their mother again.Or whether they are allowed to be afraid. Or whether everyone will be okay. Or if they "did enough of the right thing to be allowed into heaven."

There is room for all of it. The doula's role is not to have all the answers. It is to be willing to stay in the room with the questions.

Death is not a medical event alone.

Hospice and palliative care provide essential medical care, symptom management and support for people living with serious illness and approaching the end of life. A death doula occupies a different space: one centered on companionship, listening, education, practical support, emotional and spiritual care, and helping the dying person remain at the center of their own experience. Modern medicine is extraordinarily good at many things.

It can monitor, measure, manage pain and even extend life. But there are questions medicine cannot answer for us.

What does this life mean to me? What am I afraid of? What do I want my family to know? What happens when I let go? What would make this final chapter feel like mine?

Those questions belong to the human being. They belong to the family. They belong to the soul, if that is a word that has meaning for you. A death doula makes room for them.

And what about the spiritual part?

This is where my own work becomes especially personal. I don't believe you need to subscribe to a particular belief system in order to have a meaningful relationship with death. You don't have to believe in heaven. You don't have to believe in reincarnation. You don't have to believe in anything at all. If you do have a spiritual or religious tradition, it can be honored here. If your beliefs are changing, uncertain or beautifully unfinished, there is room for that too.

My role is not to tell you what death means. It is to listen for what death means to you.

I may offer meditation, prayer, visualization, ritual, energy work, breath, silence, conversation or other practices when they are welcomed and appropriate. I may sit beside you without doing anything at all. Sometimes the most profound thing we can offer another human being is our complete attention.

I have a particular love for this work.

I don't approach death as something dirty, frightening or unfortunate that we should hurry past. I love the dying. I love the honesty that arrives when there is no longer any reason to perform. The questions become simple. The masks become heavy. The things that seemed so important can suddenly fall away.

There can be fear, certainly. There can also be humor, wonder, tenderness, anger, relief, curiosity and an astonishing openness. I have found some of my favorite conversations with human beings at the threshold of death. Not because dying is easy. Because truth becomes very easy to recognize when there is no time left for pretending.

A dying person may ask the questions a child would ask: Am I going to be okay? Where do we go? Will I see them again? What happens now?

There is something sacred about being trusted with those questions and it is my utmost joy to receive them and speak of nothing else.

There is no right way to die.

There is no perfect death, no spiritual achievement waiting at the end. Some people want ceremony. Some want silence. Some want their whole family around them. Some want one particular person. Some want to talk about everything. Some want to talk about absolutely nothing. Some want prayer. Some want music. Some want the television on. Some want to laugh until the very end. Some want to be held. Some want to be left alone. And in all of that we arrive back at ceremony — because it all is.

My work begins with listening: What do you want? What are you afraid of? What would make you feel safe? What remains unsaid? What do you need from the people around you?And then we begin there. Ask yourself these questions right now and feel their flutter in your chest.

For the people who love them, too.

Dying happens to one body, but it happens within a whole field of relationships. Family members may be grieving before the death occurs. They may disagree about care. They may be frightened. They may be exhausted. They may not know what is normal. They may desperately want to help and have no idea how.

A doula can offer another steady presence in that landscape. Not as the person who takes over. Not as the person who knows best. But as someone who can listen, help organize what is happening, provide resources when appropriate, encourage honest communication and create space for everyone involved to breathe.

And sometimes the family needs permission to stop trying to fix the dying person and simply be with them. That can be a profound gift.

And then there is the moment itself.

There is a strange intimacy in sitting beside someone during their final breaths. The world becomes very small. A shrinking hand. A shallow breath. A curtain-drawn room. A child-like face. The silence. And then, eventually, a breath that does not come. For some people, this moment is terrifying. For others, it is peaceful. For many, it is both. There is no need to make it into something it isn't. There is simply a human being crossing a threshold, and another human being willing to stay close. I consider it an extraordinary privilege.

What I offer

There is no package I can prescribe in advance because every person and every family is different.

Support may include:

Ordained minister services
Conversations about death, dying and what you want
Emotional and spiritual companionship
Life review and meaning-making
Support with unfinished conversations
Guided meditation, visualization or prayer when desired
Ritual and ceremony
Preparation for the dying process
Family communication and support
Practical planning and resource navigation
Presence during active dying
Companionship for family members and caregivers
Grief and bereavement support
Integration after the death
Creating a peaceful and intentional environment around the dying process

I work alongside—not instead of—your medical, hospice, palliative, therapeutic, religious and other professional care providers. I do not diagnose, prescribe, administer medication, provide medical advice or perform clinical care. When something belongs with another professional, I will say so.

And there is one more thing I want you to know. You do not have to wait until someone is actively dying to begin talking about death. In fact, some of the most meaningful work can happen much earlier.

We can talk about your wishes. Your fears. Your beliefs. What you want your family to know. What kind of environment you would want. What you would like to leave behind. What you are ready to release. Beginning the conversation does not make death happen. It simply means you have decided to meet one of life's great mysteries with your eyes open.

A final word from me

I have beliefs. I have experiences. I have walked through inner-doors that changed the way I understand life and death. But I don't need to turn those experiences into certainty-for-you in order to sit beside you. I can simply be here. With you. Wherever you are.

And if you are dying, I will not be afraid of you.

If you are grieving, I will not rush you.

If you are terrified, I will not ask you to be peaceful.

If you are curious, we can be curious together.

If you are ready to talk about the things nobody else wants to talk about, come talk to me.

There is room at The Well.

Get in touch to begin