When you elevate your perspective, the path appears . . .

I have always loved maps. The real ones taught me about landscapes, rivers, and how the world is shaped over time. But it was the imaginary ones, tucked into the front pages of books, that stopped me in my tracks. Someone had made a map of a place that did not exist?! That felt like magic. It still does.

Maps are never only about places. They are about people, patterns, and the journeys we make together. 

For more than twenty-five years, I have taught, mentored, and led. I have coached on basketball courts, in classrooms, and inside nonprofit organizations. At first, I thought these were different hats I wore depending on the season. Eventually, I realized they were all breadcrumbs pointing in the same direction. Coaching wasn’t just another role. It was the map, the constant throughline, underneath them all.

So, I stopped ignoring the obvious. I took the training, named the work, and stepped fully into coaching.

When people work with me, they find a guide who listens differently. They are seen and heard in a way that allows them to take ownership of their own story. Together, we set aside the maps that no longer serve and begin to chart new ones. Clients learn to ask themselves better questions, to tell better stories, and to see the waypoints that lead them forward. The next step reveals itself, not as pressure, but as clarity.

I believe in presence and companionship, in walking together rather than going alone. I place high value on honoring the sources that shape us. I believe in joy as a compass and in practice as the way we deepen whatever we are called to do. Above all, I believe in holding space that allows people to truly see themselves.

These beliefs guide every conversation I hold. They are why my clients include: Weary travelers who need boundaries. Compass seekers who crave values. Fogbound explorers looking for waypoints. Edge-dwellers standing at the precipice. Each of them finds clarity not by being told what to do, but by becoming their own map maker.

I live my life as an appreciative audience, bearing witness with curiosity and delight. My dogs remind me daily to pay attention to small joys. My bookshelves remind me that I will never finish reading. And maps, real or imaginary, continue to remind me that exploration is both the work and the reward.