Most people don’t talk about it, but the holidays have a way of stirring things up.

On the surface, December looks like magic: lights, celebrations, traditions, gatherings…

But underneath, there’s often a quiet ache. It might be a sense of pressure to get everything “right.” It could be a resurfacing of old wounds, or a reminder of what (or who) is missing. Many people feel a deep exhaustion from trying so hard to be “OK.”

The holidays ask us to be joyful…even when our bodies aren’t up for it.

I didn't write a book to get rich. If that were the goal, I would've written an adult fantasy novel featuring wizards and sexy elves.

Instead, my goal was to share what I have learned from places that teach you what really matters: working as a frontline ER nurse during the pandemic, caring for inmates in the behavioral health and hospice wards of prisons, owning a martial arts and fitness center in South Korea, facilitating plant medicine ceremonies in Mexico, and the myriad other places I have passed through in my lifetime.

In nursing school I was taught that you can heal even without a cure.

After years of real world experience, I believe this more than ever.

Cancer, autoimmune disease, chronic illness, and other life-altering diagnoses aren’t just physical events. They reverberate through a person’s identity, relationships, beliefs, and spirit. A diagnosis can spark questions like:

Why me? Who am I now? What really matters?

Cancer touches nearly every family at some point. Whether you’ve received a diagnosis yourself or supported someone through it, you know it’s not just a physical disease, it’s a full-body, full-soul experience.

In this post, I want to share some of what science and spirit are teaching us about preventing, coping with, and healing from cancer and to invite you into a deeper conversation about how we can meet this journey with both knowledge and grace.

A few days ago, I returned from a 9-day vision quest in the jungles of Mexico. I had a sleeping bag, a mosquito net, and the clothes on my back. Let me tell you, re-entry into the world of running water, soft beds, and grocery stores has felt luxurious in a way I didn’t know was possible.

I dry fasted for 4 days and 4 nights. No food. No water. Just me, my thoughts, Mother Earth beneath me, and…way too many ants.