Refuge For Healing

My Story

 

I am a divorced mom of two adult children, an artist, a writer of fiction and poetry, and companion to my cat, Banjo. I am silly and serious, an old soul with a childlike perspective. I love the forests and mountains of my Colorado home, donkeys, dad jokes, and engaging with people on a deep level. 
 

I understand what it's like to have life turn upside-down with unexpected challenges. I know what it's like to live with CPTSD, chronic illness, chronic pain, and religious trauma. I've also grieved the death of loved ones and know very well the complex ways that grief can affect us.

 

I'm a bit woo-woo (I believe in energy fields, vibrations, use some complementary medicine, etc), but also highly value scientific evidence and standard medical practices. 

 

I've deconstructed from evangelical Christianity and now believe that God is bigger than any one religion. While I find it difficult to define, I tend to say that I am a progressive, universal, contemplative, mystic with Christian roots. I respect all belief systems as well as those who don't hold to any beliefs.

 

I am an ally to LGBTQIA+ and BIPOC people and communities. I'm on an anti-colonizer, anti-racist trajectory with the admission that I have a lot to learn. 

 

While these topics may not come up in a session, I want you to know who I am so that you can decide if I am a good fit for your needs. I want all of my clients to feel safe with me. If any of these things make you feel uncomfortable, I'd rather you be aware upfront. You are welcome, whether your perspectives and values align with mine or not. Everyone is treated with the same respect and compassion. 

I hold empathetic, trauma-informed space for those who seek the processing of grief and trauma through somatic work. My goal is to offer a place where everyone feels safe, seen, heard, and accepted. 

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Qualifications:

Bachelor of Science in Nursing

Certified Integrative Somatic Practitioner

LGBTQ+ Coach 
Certificate in Spiritual Direction 
Grief Coach 

Self-love Coach

Artist

Writer

 

"You won't find a safer place to do personal work. Kay is accessible and kind and genuinely interested in helping clients experience positive change." Susan P. Alberta, Canada

 

My Why

When I was growing up I didn't have good examples for how to grieve in a healthy way. Most of our emotions were repressed and stifled. I don't hold any resentment for that. I know that the people in my life did the best they could. I come from a hearty, sturdy people who were really good at surviving, but maybe not so good at feeling and processing their emotions. 
I know what it's like to not know how to recognize what emotions were doing in my body. I know what it's like to grieve alone, without the support that would have helped me process all of it and know that what I was experiencing was normal, and even good. 
I do this work because I want to be a guide or companion for others who may be like I was. People who want to grieve well. People who want to process their emotions rather than stifle them. People who want to be supported during the processing of it all. I want to offer what I didn't have. 

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​My Philosophy

Grief Happens in the body. It happens in our brains and nervous systems. It seems like every part of the body feels the pain of losing someone or something that we loved. We are used to talking about the emotional aspects of grief, but don't often talk about the physical parts. The symptoms of grief can be numerous and varied and can catch us off guard if we don't know what to expect. 
 

Because grief happens in the body it needs to be processed in and through the body. And this will happen, whether we are intentional about it or not. The body will process the grief, but it may take many years and it may come out in difficult or painful ways. Maybe the anger of grief will come out four years from now when someone you care about makes a minor mistake and you over-react. Maybe the sorrow will unleash over a commercial that tugs the heartstrings and you are in a sobbing huddle at the Super Bowl party. Unprocessed grief can also show up as physical symptoms, years later. Pain, stiffness, digestive issues, and more can be the bodies way of trying to manage the grief that's been living in it. 

 

There's no shame here. I don't want to make anyone feel bad or feel like there aren't grieving "the right way." There is no right or wrong way to grieve and everyone grieves differently, but there are some better ways to grieve. Ways that can help the process be more manageable and intentional. 

 

It's so much better to be intentional about this process. But not many of us know how. We aren't taught how to grieve well. Our society tries to ignore grief, put our heads down and just push through it. We have a hard time leaning in to the pain. But the pain won't go away just because we try to bypass it. 

 

Somatic practices can support the grief process by teaching you how to feel what's happening in your body, how to listen to what your body is telling you, and how to find ways to let the emotions process through and out, rather than staying stuck and coming out in unhealthy and unhelpful ways. 
 

Grief greatly affects the nervous system and most somatic practices also directly work on the nervous system. They can help you regulate so that you feel activated (fear, tension, sadness) when you need to -- when it's helpful -- and feel calm the rest. Grief automatically puts us into a state of activation, and that can last for a while, but eventually we need to be able to alternate between the two states of activation and calm and these practices can help us do that. 

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We are communal creatures. We always have been. Generations ago it was far more crucial for our existence that we work together and support one another. But, in America especially, we have a great tendency toward independence. We value our autonomy and our can-do spirit. But this independence hasn't served us well in every way. I think we've lose a lot when we lost the ability to form and live in community. Because we are communal creatures, by nature, we can process our grief better when supported by others. 
 

When baby chimp dies, the mother will carry it around for weeks. She will groom it and pet it, but not try to feed it. She knows it's dead. Meanwhile, she stops tending to her own needs, so the rest of the troop surrounds her and provides grooming and food. She's able to hold on to her baby as long as she needs to and when she's ready, she will let it go. My point is that if the chimps have the wisdom to care for one another like this, then we do, too. We've just forgotten it in our pain-averse society. 

 

It can feel uncomfortable to think about grieving in front of people we don't know. It can feel awkward and we may feel self-conscious, even at the thought of it. That's been programmed into us by a culture that doesn't know what to do with pain. We want to fix things and grief is not something that needs fixed. It is not a problem to solve. It is a natural, healthy part of life that needs to be held, witnessed, and processed in a safe, supportive environment. I am passionate about providing the safe and supportive communal support that can hold and help you as you grieve.