What we’re feeling and sensing as seers and seekers is the turbulence: the foundations that are crumbling; the earth that is crying out and making her displeasure with our consumerism and greed known; the awareness of broken systems that are not in service of the highest good of all beings.

It’s hard to live through a global transition. It’s hard to trust that this is a necessary decline before an upsurge of renewal.

But what I know in my bones from studying transitions for over 30 years is that the rebirth of spring always always follows the decay of autumn. The life-death-life cycle is one of our few reliable knowns in this world of change and uncertainty. Holding this mindset helps me through difficult times, and I hope it’s helpful for you. Spring always comes. It’s one of the mindsets, among many, that allows me to be a lighthouse for those I’m lucky enough to guide to safe shores.

The Need for Reliable Guides 

We need our steady guides now more than ever. I’m 54, and I’ve spent the majority of my life engaged in inner work. I started writing down my dreams and journaling when I was six, when I was 16 I started going to therapy, and at 23 I started graduate school for depth psychology, learning about dreams, metaphors, creativity, and the language of the body. And from there I started working with people as a soul midwife – walking alongside them as they endured the death and rebirth cycles initiated by life’s transitions: getting married, moving, becoming a parent, career changes, retirement, grief and loss.

Because of my own numerous dark nights of the soul, I have an intimate relationship with anxiety and have understood from the time panic first dragged me into the underworld at age 21 that anxiety is a messenger. I don’t believe we can truly guide others if we haven’t walked through that same dark forest and emerged on the other side not only intact, with well-being, but as a beacon of light.

I stand on these shores now and more days than not I am in gratitude and joy. It’s not that everything is perfect. It’s far from perfect: I fall into fear just like everyone else; I worry about my kids; I wake up in a dark mood; I get irritated; I hurt others feelings and my feelings get hurt.

But what I find at this stage is that I don’t stay in the hard stuff for very long. It’s like what Sue Johnson, the founder of EFT said about couples work: The goal is not to never argue again, that’s not possible. The goal is to argue less frequently and when you do argue to return to each other with an open heart more quickly.

To Be a Lighthouse

This is what I found with life: it can be hard, sometimes very hard, and it can feel like I’m having an argument with life itself, like there’s a tear in the fabric of the universe, but within a short amount of time I return to my center, which is a deep well of trust. And it’s from that well-being – from the well of my being – which is also a well of joy and clarity – that I serve as a guide to others as a lighthouse in the storms of life.

We are not meant to suffer through this life alone. We need guides and mentors and soul midwives to see us through as we are birthing new aspects of ourselves and as we are witnessing the death and rebirth of the planet. I have had many lighthouse guides and I have them still. It would be an honor to serve as one for you.

Along these lines, I’m offering a FREE webinar this Wednesday, September 23rd at 3:30pm ET where I will be offering a teaching, allowing time to connect to your own well of light, and connect with me. You can sign up here, and I look forward to seeing you there.

At the Saturday service, a brilliant young woman from the congregation gave the drash (main speech). She told a story about the miracle of her birth – how she wasn’t supposed to live because of a significant heart defect. Despite her loving parents, she grew up with a sense that she was wrong – that there was something fundamentally wrong about her. It wasn’t until she met her rabbi (my friend Lisa) and became a part of her community that the wrongness started to dissipate. And then, in her old-soul-in-a-young-body wisdom she said:

“The antidote to a sense of wrongness is finding people who make you feel right.”

That took my breath away.

The antidote to a sense of wrongness is finding people who make you feel right. 

She’s absolutely correct. As shame is relational (we only know shame because of our relationships with other people), the medicine is also relational. Yet it wasn’t enough for this young woman to feel seen and loved by her parents or her rabbi. She needed the love of the entire community.

What I’ve come to know is that it’s not enough for one or two people to make you feel right. We need a tribe. We need a circle of people around us who reflect our rightness, the essential goodness of who we are. It’s why you can be raised in a loving family with two parents who affirm your rightness and still feel like there’s something wrong with you.

Our world has become too small.

The nuclear family sequestered in a house separated from all the other houses on the street is too small.

Growing up with one or two other siblings, or none at all, is too small.

But the world is also too big.

We yell out into a void of social media where hundreds or thousands of people might be listening, but none of them are listening in a way that makes us feel heard. None of them know you, see you, love you.

We’re spread out across this vast globe, billions of people on islands of loneliness, massive beyond belief yet isolated beyond measure.

But then, by that sweetest meeting of grace with effort, we find ourselves with a group of people who see us. It might take some time to believe that we’re being seen and receive the love, but when we do, layers and layers of shame fall away. When we consider that our deepest fear is of being cut off from a community, it makes sense that the antidote is being accepted into a group, taken into the soft wings and folds of their loving. In being seen, we also see. And in seeing others’ beauty and rightness, we see ourselves.

I’m remembering a moment at the Another Way retreat last June when one of the participants said, “I’ve been looking around this circle for days in awe at everyone’s wisdom and compassion, and then I thought, ‘But I’m here, too. If all of these sensitive humans are good, does that mean I’m good, too?”

Yes. Yes, it does. It’s through being in a group of loving people that we know our own goodness.

Of course, many of you were raised in groups that weren’t loving: religious communities that were harmful; large families that were layered in trauma; school environments that left scars; spiritual communities that turned out to be cults.

Where does that leave us?

I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I know there are no perfect communities, and that many communities who espouse “love” and “goodness” can be toxic and dangerous at the core, themselves propagators of shame.

But I also know that when we seek loving communities as adults, we find them. And I do believe that one of our global tasks right now as things are falling apart is to build ourselves back together on the pillars of loving community. I’m not sure what that means yet, but I hope to find out in my lifetime. As Rabbi Lisa said on Friday night, “The antidote to despair is community.”

As I’ve been sharing lately, this is the direction my work is moving; I love witnessing the layers of shame that fall away when a group of conscious, loving, committed learners gather together. I love the creative magic that happens when wise souls offer their compassion, often in the form of story. It’s like watching a spider weave her miraculous web, when a thread leaps across the circle from one heart to another, and then to another and another. Before we know it, we’re sitting in our own, newly-invented dreamcatcher.

In two weeks, the 8th round of Break Free From Anxiety: A 9-month course on the art of living will begin. In the vessel of safe community, we will walk alongside one another with a roadmap for navigating anxiety’s bumpy terrain. We will cry and laugh. We will struggle with resistance and learn about radical responsibility. And, most of all, we will watch the dark cloak of shame rise up and be healed in the light of love.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m limiting enrollment to facilitate connection. As of now, there are 5 spots left. I look forward to seeing you there.

Note: We will meet over Zoom every two weeks from 3:30-4:45pm EST starting on Tuesday, September 29th. True community requires a commitment to showing up, so for this round I’m asking that participants show up to live meetings as much as possible (as opposed to listening to the recording.) Of course I understand that life can get in the way and not everyone will be able to attend every meeting, so you will receive the recording afterwards. 

We swim in deep waters. We thrive on conversations that plumb the depths of the human experience. We want to talk about what is real and true, and this isn’t always easy to find in a world that tends to stay on the surface of things.

In short, we are seers and seekers.

What does it mean to be a seer and a seeker? Let’s take a moment to unpack these terms. 

Seers:

Seers are those who perceive what others might not see. As a child this was often the person who sensed that something was off in the family system. You didn’t have the words to communicate what was off, but you felt into what was unseen and unsaid in the invisible field.

You felt your mother’s depression and your father’s unlived life.

You sensed your mother’s quiet anger or your dad’s unresolved father wound.

Often this unnamed seeing eventually led to becoming a seeker so that you could find the words to understand your inner and outer worlds.

Seekers: 

Seekers are on a quest for truth, growth, and meaning. You are likely the one in your family who has been drawn to self-help books, podcasts, and therapy from an early age. You have a deep desire to understand the human experience and make sense of the dysfunctional aspects of your childhood. Anxiety is often the messenger that calls a seeker onto the healing path, for it’s the seer who absorbed the intergenerational pain in a family system and is called to learn how to transform this fogginess into clarity.

They are the ones, as I’ve often said, who are on a path of transforming the burden of being a lightning rod into the gift of being a lighthouse.

What does this mean exactly?

From Lightning Rod to Lighthouse

In advance of our next Gathering Gold episode (released tomorrow), Victoria dug into this metaphor of the lightning rod. She wrote on our shared Google doc:

In the past, when I’ve heard you use the term “lightning rod,” I’ve only thought about it as the person who receives the full force of the energy. But as I was thinking about it in preparation for this episode, I decided to do a little more research on lightning rods.

 

 

A lightning rod is a metal pole installed on top of a building to safely guide electrical energy from a lightning strike into the ground. The pointed metal piece at the very top intercepts the strike. A heavy copper or aluminum cable acts as the conductor. It runs from the roof down the side of the building to the ground rod, a metal stake buried deep in the soil that disperses the electrical energy safely away, preventing fires and structural damage.

 

 

I didn’t think about the second part of the process–that the lightning rod disperses potentially dangerous and destructive energy safely into the earth. 

As seers and seekers on a healing path, we are in a process of transmutation: taking the unprocessed pain in a family system, often for many generations, placing it into the vessel of our practices so that the energy is discharged (the way the electrical current of a lightning bolt is sent through the rod into the neutralizing ground of the earth) so that you can free up the positive energy of creativity and joy that are also your birthright and, through the process, become a safe haven and source of guidance for others.

In other words, we take the self-absorbed and highly charged state of anxiety, which often feels like an electrical current coursing through our body or a heavy wet blanket on the soul, and transmute it into creativity and light.

We take what is draining and alchemize it into something life-affirming.

We place the fear of death into the vessel of our healing pathways and learn how to transform it into the love of life.

Giving Back What Isn’t Yours

Lest you fall in the familiar trap of over-responsibility and believe it’s your job to heal your entire family, let’s slow things down. Part of the task of inner work is to recognize what’s yours to heal and what isn’t yours.

In your growing up years, you may have taken on the role of fixer, helper, peacemaker, mediator, and you may still carry that role. 

Yet a significant element of healing – especially when you’re the highly sensitive in your family and, as such, are also the recipient of what has gone unseen and unsaid – is differentiating between what is yours and what is not yours, then learning to hand back the load that is not yours.

Your parents’ pain is not your burden to bear.

Your grandparents’ trauma is not your weight to carry. 

Your siblings’ stories are not your stories.

When you can give back what isn’t yours you are participating in intergenerational healing. What’s left is the pain, shame, and unresolved transitions from your personal story that are yours to process. This is manageable. Taking on the burden of others’ pain is not.

It’s a special thing to be tasked with healing intergenerational patterns. I know it probably doesn’t feel that way right now, but when you learn the tools and mindsets that help you transform the burden of shame into the gift of sensitivity, you start to sense into the specialness that you have been chosen not only to serve your entire family lineage – for every branch on the tree heals when you do the healing – but also, dare I say, the entire human race at this point in history. For we are at a great turning point, a critical threshold, and we need all hands on deck to turn the tide!

We Cannot Do This Alone

This is big, important work, and it isn’t easy. It’s never been easy to be the seer and seeker, and as we get older we often realize that there are less people with whom we can connect at the depths that feel satisfying. But an essential part of the healing journey of transforming anxiety from a burden to a gift is finding like-minded people to accompany you along the way. As I’ve been sharing a lot lately, we’re not meant to figure this out alone.

If you’re ready to delve into the deep end with gentleness, support, and companions along the way, and receive a daily roadmap that will help you discharge the energy of anxiety into pathways of possibility, I encourage you to join our 8th round of Break Free From Anxiety: A 9-month course on the art of living. 

To facilitate deep connection in real time, I’m limiting the number of participants in this course, especially through our regular Zoom calls. As such, I’ll be encouraging as many people as possible to show up for as many live calls as possible (as opposed to listening to the recordings afterwards). We all long for community, and true community requires showing up in real time and making the commitment to prioritize the spaces where we have an opportunity to explore deeply with safe others.

The live calls will be held every other Tuesday starting on September 29th from 3:30 – 4:45pm ET.  

Of course I understand that not everyone will be able to make every live call, and the recording will be available afterwards, but I’m asking for a strong commitment to attend whenever possible so that we can form a true cohort and community over the nine months together. I look forward to seeing you there.

Do you relate to being a seer and seeker? Share in the comments. 

Not only is Asher a gifted writer, but he’s a profoundly thoughtful and philosophical young man. At 17, he’s been grappling with the deep questions of life, death, the passage of time, grief, and suffering for as long as I can remember. Sound familiar? Yes, he’s a bird of our feather, this sensitive crowd who has found their way here! Of course, this comes as no surprise given that my husband and I are both highly sensitive people who do our best to channel the sensitivity into creativity, but it’s been joyful to watch Asher find his way with words, and how those words help him find his way with this challenging and beautiful life. 

Asher was intrigued by the idea of writing for my blog, and we talked about some possible topics. Then he went into his room and out poured the following essay. 

One of the things that strikes me about the essay (among many) is that, despite growing up in a world beset by negative news at best and catastrophic headlines at worst, a world where young people look to the older generations hoping to find hope and instead find despair, Asher has emerged into young adulthood with his optimism in tact. Never one to put his head in the sand, he sees the whole picture. He reads the news and has his finger on the pulse of what’s happening on our planet. But somehow he maintains a balanced and sanguine mindset about it all. He’s able to place our current challenges in a historical context and take a long view about our future. 

In the following essay he addresses the philosophical question: Given the suffering that humans inflict on the earth, animals, and ourselves, would the planet be better off without us? Weaving multiple strands of thoughts, he addresses the question with an extraordinary ability to hold paradox and nuance, arriving at not so much an answer as a possibility.

And now I share with you our beautiful son, Asher Finn: storyteller, filmmaker, and thoughtful human. 

P.S.: I started writing this blog when Asher was 6 months old. Talk about marveling at the passage of time that I’m now sharing his writing! 

***

It has been recorded by scientists that certain grizzly bears will sometimes hike mountains for no reason. There is no food at the top, no great stream. “Why,” you must ask, “Would a bear hike a mountain for no reason?” Well, it’s also been noted that once the bear reaches his or her destination, (s)he pauses at the top and sits for a while. If you didn’t know better, you might think bears climbed mountains for the views. 

But let me change gears. Let’s talk about bad things. Awful things. Let’s talk about people. In front of me, on my desk, is a collection of short stories by one of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman. I love Neil Gaiman. As a writer, at least. His prose is beautiful, his stories are full of layered characters and fantasy and magic and old gods and new gods and you’re hooked from the very first sentence all the way until the last. I always wanted to be like Neil Gaiman, a great modern writer… until two years ago, when a four-part podcast exposé dropped following the allegations of several women against him. I won’t get into the details, but it was bad. Now, I’m left with a choice: do I still read novels by Neil Gaiman, knowing every time I do that I must remember I am reading words written by a monster?

But more than that, if Neil Gaiman was never born, his victims would have quite possibly lived normal, unscarred lives. But if there was no Neil Gaiman, there would be no Neil Gaiman novels. So, would the world have been better without Neil Gaiman? Does the wonder and magic he fed into the world cancel out the pain and suffering? While millions of people read his books and many (myself included) were inspired to become writers themselves, his victims suffered immensely. So, does the suffering of a few outweigh the added slight joys by many? I don’t have an answer to this question. If your answer is, “Yes, the world would have been better off without Neil Gaiman,” then let me ask you this: would you also want to live in a world without Pablo Picasso, Gandhi, Thomas Jefferson, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Florence Nightingale? Picasso was a misogynist, Fitzgerald mistreated his wife, Jefferson owned slaves, and Nightingale and Gandhi were racists. 

Let me expand upon this even more. It is autumn now, and all through the summer, our town in Colorado has been in a period of drought. The lawn is wilting, the rabbits lay down flat on the grass to escape the heat, and even the bugs seem to be dying. Now if this current heat is due to weather cycles or global warming is up for debate, but if it is due to global warming then we, the humans, the only species that can fathom this disaster and grieve the world before it, are also the species responsible. We are the victims and the perpetrators. Our individual lives consume resources, displace animals, and splatter insects across windshields. It might be easy to think that we are a curse on the world, a locust plague, but the locusts are the ones dying. And I haven’t even mentioned human suffering. Millions of people are currently enslaved, or being tortured, or dying of some horrible disease. The only way to truly prevent all human suffering is for there to be no humans. 

So, it makes you wonder: would the world be better off without us? 

Well, let’s pretend we are all Neil Gaiman (unpleasant, I know). We are the great novelists of the animal world. We make art; no other animals do that. We make music; birdsong isn’t music, despite the name. We spoil our pets rotten; your cat or dog would have to fend for itself out in the great wild if it wasn’t for humans. And, of course, we make each other happy. We save each other from disasters, dance together, create incredible movies (think: Back to the Future), entertain children (and if there is anything that makes you believe that humans deserve to exist, it is children), and so on. So, those are our novels. And the earth, us included, is our victim. Do the joys we provide outweigh the cons? Sometimes I think they do, and sometimes I think they don’t. 

We are parts of the universe that has become aware of itself, atoms that assembled into the right shape that have somehow become conscious. That must make us special, right? If we were gone, the universe would cease to perceive its own beauty. There would be no one to write poetry and no one to appreciate nature. 

Or would there be? 

It’s time to return to the bear. If it’s true that bears climb mountains just for the views, then that whole prior statement would be wrong. It brings me some comfort to think that if there were no humans, there would still be conscious beings to appreciate the beauty of the world. So, there you go, I guess we really are insignificant and the world would be better off without us. In fact, a bear could do our jobs. Not so fast. 

I think we are the bear. Or we were the bear. Or both. The bear causes suffering, too, mind you. They kill fish and other animals, even other bears sometimes. They aren’t trying to inflict pain; they are simply living. So, the bear does its living, and does its killing, then hikes a mountain to enjoy the beauty of the world. The bear is not so different from us. To the trout, the bear might be a horrorsome beast, a plague on the forest that they wish they could escape from, and to the bear, we might be the same. In many ways, humans have lessened the cruelty of the world. We don’t eat our children or slay our spouses. We don’t crawl around in the mud and kill each other with our bare hands over food. At least most of us don’t. So if the bear deserves to exist, don’t we?

I think we used to be something like the bear. A half-conscious creature that did not sing or dance, but did enjoy mountain views. I mean this in the evolutionary sense – that many hundreds of thousands of years ago our ancestors were creatures much like this – but also in the current sense. We all grew from babies not much larger than a grapefruit, and in that stage we could not speak or play the piano or paint beautiful masterpieces. I also believe that if we no longer existed, perhaps bears would keep growing and changing, and in a few million years animals that looked a bit like bears but acted a lot like humans would point up at the night sky, and instead of seeing Ursula Major they would see Hominid Major, or The Great Man in the Sky, and they would regale their cubs with stories of ancient empires that rose and fell long before them. 

What I am trying to say is that our human stage of immense consciousness is inevitable, and even if it isn’t, I think it should be. There is no beauty without some suffering, and no living beings that do not cause some pain. I think that we create more than we destroy, and hopefully we love more than we hate. I think any animal that sees beauty and creates it deserves to exist, so I guess us and bears are in the same boat (even though I don’t think I’d want to be in a boat with a bear). The world is a better place with humans in it, and I know I’d be pretty sad if there were no more people to watch Back to the Future.

I also understood that there were multiple factors that led to this particular downturn:

1. When I started my blog in 2009, blogging was still fairly new so the vista was wide open. By 2023, people were on information overload.
2. Similarly, when I created my first course in 2010, there were very few online courses, which made mine more visible and trustworthy. Now the online course world is saturated.
3. The algorithm changes on Instagram every so often. I was favored during the covid years, and when the algorithm changed my posts became less visible.
4. Ai had entered the scene, making it easier for people to find information through Ai sources instead of through someone’s blog or courses. As I understand it, someone could even create their own course on anxiety, for example, simply by asking Ai to create that course. Someone might even say, “Create a course on relationship anxiety based on Sheryl Paul’s blog posts,” and presto, the course would manifest.

I had a choice in terms of how I responded to those changes: I could either hustle to chase the algorithm and join the new platforms (TikTok; Substack) or I could reduce my time online and contemplate a new direction for my work.

I chose the latter.

I chose to listen to the outward signs and the wisdom of my soul and respond from the grounded and truthful place inside of me that was ready for a smaller life. (I shared more in-depth about this choice in our recent Gathering Gold episode on The Fear of a Small Life.)

In other words, it was time to pivot.

As the world became more disconnected and less human, I felt called to become more human.

Becoming More Human

For me, becoming more human meant getting off my screen and into real life in real time, which was a major reason why I was called to lead our first Another Way retreat last June. Ai can do many things, but it can’t sit on the floor in a room at a retreat center in Colorado with thirteen other incredible humans exploring our dreams, sharing our creativity, walking the inner and outer labyrinth, laughing and crying and laughing again, and watching new friendships form. If it hadn’t been for Ai changing the landscape of online courses and therapeutic spaces, I’m not sure I would have moved forward with leading the retreat. And, as it turned out, it was one of the most fulfilling work experiences I’ve ever had.

One of my favorite parts of my work is connecting sensitive, beautiful, kind, compassionate, deep-thinking, and deep-feeling people with each other. In a world that has judged sensitivity harshly, that has sent the message to deeply feeling people that there’s something wrong with them, it is such joy to connect these people with each other and watch the healing balm of friendship blossom before my eyes. This happened at the retreat, it’s happening in our Gathering Well motherhood group, and it’s happened in my 9-month courses. Regularly I’ll receive an email from a past member of the 9-month course letting me know that their small group is still meeting. Few things bring me more joy than receiving those emails.

On the heels of the retreat, it became clear that I longed for more group work but in a smaller way. For years, due to the large numbers on Instagram and other places, my courses soared as well. And while there was some exhilaration in reaching a wide audience, I also started to feel a disconnect. With hundreds of people on my courses, was it really possible to connect deeply with each person? I did my best to connect on the forums and the calls, but I was always left with a bit of an impersonal feeling which wasn’t in alignment with one of my core values, which is real and deep connection.

In short, what I realized after the retreat was that if I was going to be leading a course, especially my longer courses, I wanted to know each and every person on that course.

So, in a strange way, I have Ai to thank for returning me to a smaller, more intimate way of working.

Break Free From Anxiety: A 9-month course on the art of living 

Which brings me to announcing that the 8th round of my most comprehensive course, Break Free From Anxiety, is now open for registration.

If you struggle with relationship anxiety, health anxiety, death anxiety, money anxiety, career anxiety, friendship anxiety or any other intrusive thoughts and are ready to be guided daily into the mindsets and tools that will help you heal from the root, this course is for you.

If you struggle with self-doubt, perfectionism, and a need to control, this course is for you.

If you feel inspired by my posts and long for more direct guidance and in-depth daily emails, this course is for you.

If you’re drawn to the idea of connecting with like-minded people in real time, this course is for you.

If you’re paralyzed by resistance and struggle with taking true responsibility for your well-being, this course is for you.

If you’ve wrestled with depression, this course is for you.

Based on what I shared above and the direction of my work, I’m limiting the number of participants in this course to facilitate real connection, especially through our regular Zoom calls. I’ve also decided to increase both the number and length of the Zoom calls to allow time to delve into the material together. As such, I’ll be encouraging as many people as possible to show up for as many live calls as possible (as opposed to listening to the recordings afterwards). We all long for community, and true community requires showing up in real time and making the commitment to prioritize the spaces where we have an opportunity to explore deeply with safe others.

The live calls will be held every other Tuesday starting on September 29th from 3:30 – 4:45pm ET.  

Of course I understand that not everyone will be able to make every live call, and the recording will be available afterwards, but I’m asking for a strong commitment to attend whenever possible so that we can form a true cohort and community over the nine months together.

P.S. A Few Thoughts on Ai

Full disclosure: I’ve never used Ai. I do understand that it can be very helpful around certain topics and can save time, but so far I haven’t felt an impulse to delve into that world.

Let me also be clear: I understand the allure and have no judgement about people who use it for certain tasks. I certainly have my concerns when it’s used for therapy or creativity, but to be fair I really don’t know enough about it even in those spheres to weigh in with any real knowledge.

What I do know is this: Ai is incapable of sharing genuine human connection. As far as we know, Ai doesn’t have a heart or a soul. It doesn’t smile when you’re talking or lean forward when you’re crying. It has never felt what you’re feeling so it can’t offer one of the most healing medicines for suffering, which is knowing that someone else has walked in your shoes. Ai can’t hold your hand or place a hand on your back. It can’t cry alongside you and fire mirror neurons that let us know: I’m seen. I’m heard. I’m not alone. Ai will never replace human connection no matter how advanced it becomes. This I trust in the belly of my being, in the ground of my soul.

Also, I know I’m not alone in my pull to return to smaller, in-person of connecting.

As the world becomes spread it, many people feel a longing to return to local ways of living.

As the world becomes bigger, some of us long for smaller.

As the world becomes more tech, screen, digital, and Ai based, there’s a return to the analog and the human.

Let’s be human together. I look forward to seeing you on the course. You can learn more and sign up here.