About Me

Universal Health Principles


Weekly Share


IMG_5553Start with what’s available, Kate.

My most recent set of self-instructions.

As sensitive’s, we feel into the void, the possibilities, the future versions of self.

We have no shortage of visions.

Bringing those visions into materialization is our scuffle.

Transporting the timeless into time is no easy feat, until one day it is.

On that day, we exist in both places, effortlessly able to dance between worlds.

I’m learning the only way to do this effectively is to ‘start with what’s available’.

Otherwise tension, overwhelm + paralyzation will keep us in a conditioned state of force and the opportunity to dance will pass us by and by and by.

I’m sharing my own timeless/time continuum as a means to help you break down yours:

Creative Vision :: Knowing I’m meant to share information related to the sensitive journey as it courses through me; in the shape of words, drawings, videos and expressions not yet known. The scuffle lies in how to share when all that’s coming through inundates my system. What’s available? My hands. My pen. My charcoals. My blank notepad + sketchbook. So I focus on setting aside time each day to create and let it arrive in me. And just like that, I’m sharing.

Health Vision :: Knowing I’m meant to fully descend in this body. To feel my insides more vividly than my outsides, somatically sensing from every cell. The scuffle lies in how to do this when my outer reality still feels much more real. What’s available? My diaphragm breathing my ribs and my scull resting on my spine. So I focus on what I can feel and let it bring me deeper. And just like that, I’m fully descending in this body.

Relationship Vision :: Knowing I’m meant to master quiet and exist in its vibration steadily; in sessions with clients, in person with family + friends, lying in bed with my husband. The scuffle lies in how to deal with the noise as it tapers in + out. What’s available? The silence surrounding my form, in the air, the trees, the snow as it falls outside my window. So I focus on the silence I can sense and let it expand me. And just like that, I’m mastering quiet.

The timeless visions need to merge with real time otherwise they can’t exist here. On Earth, which is where we are residing.

Ethereal living is not so fulfilling, I’ve found out.

What visions do you have?

What do you know is possible for yourself?

Don’t get lost in the how.

Focus on what’s available right now.

And watch for the voice that wants to wait…

What effortless action can you take in this moment?

The very easiest one.

Any great artist, musician or creator has had to hone this skill-set.

Join me in the learning curve of dually existing.

The dance is so worth it.

All my love, Kate

Weekly Share



If asked what I want more than anything else, I’d answer you “connection.”

With other human beings, that is.

Growing up I had close friends and my family too, quite devoted.

Yet, I watched those friends + family members interact, desperately wanting what they shared.

I’ve forever longed for a cavernous-kind-of-connection and still do.

Ironic that when you really yearn for something, everything and anything that’s preventing you from having it will arise.

I’ve perceived this narrative of disconnection from several perspectives.

Observing my inability to relax in the context of others.

Accepting my disinterest in surface level relations.

Witnessing the vulnerability of living inside a sensitive form.

I’m aware the storyline will reveal itself fully in the framework of people; it’s where the plot plays out (and not in the solitude of the woods, unfortunately).

So when we had company for Thanksgiving weekend, I sorta expected to unravel.

Terror ensued the moment our guests pulled up the driveway.

My throat, belly, legs; familiarly bracing.

The impending union frightened the marrow in my bones.

I wanted to scream, cry and fury.

Thirty-two years old and this apprehension still trails.

I don’t want distress around others.

And I don’t want to pretend it isn’t there.

‘Help me, please’ I whispered to the sky as I opened the door to welcome them in.

As the four of us gathered around the Thanksgiving table, the discomfort was palpable.

But it wasn’t just mine; it was in all of us.

I could feel their matching desire for a cavernous-kind-of-connection.

Amid the cranberry sauce + candlelight, we floated in an unspoken sea of candidness.

It felt incredibly brave.

As if we were silently pronouncing to one another, ‘stay open’.

We need each other, the four of us who shared Thanksgiving, but all of us feelers.

We require one another’s silent acceptance to stay open in a world where it’s never felt right, safe or permissible to do so.

So if this is you, experiencing disquiet in the context of others, let it be there.

Keep choosing to connect on the level you know is available.

The hearts who want the same will find you.

Be with your throat, belly and legs as they brace to dart you away.

Let your cheeks blush, muscles shake and sweat pour.

The discharge of emotion will unhook you from an outdated story of disconnection and you will find you.

The apprehension around others a mere avenue back.

All my love and the Happiest Thanksgiving,


Weekly Share


IMG_5309This past week may have been one of the loudest on record.

The world is in a mammoth process.

Politics appear to be the reason for our collective spin though in truth, it’s our response. Lifetimes of repressed feelings are here to be known.

And if there’s anything I’ve learned about how to handle the noise it’s not to handle it. 

Noise, quite simply, is trauma and trauma is best tended through presence alone.

How to deal with the urgency that comes with surfacing trauma without ‘handling’ it?

In the words of Risa Kaparo, we turn urgency into gravity’.

We let our awareness of the ground rest the parts of us that are tensing to fight or run the hell away.

It takes perseverance.

Risa continues on saying, The koan of our apparent paradox of ‘not doing’ and ‘not giving up’ can only resolve itself when we come to higher levels of differentiation in our sensing, which extends our presence.’

For us HSP’s, this heightened sensing is a right of passage, one I’m clearly still navigating.

I ran straight to the woods last Tuesday, my aversion to the uproar stronger than my ability to feel gravity. Running didn’t work. It never works (lesson # 792038210).

This commotion is in the fabric of our planet. It’s in the birches as much as it is in all of us.

So deeper in we go.

And it starts with a dedication to a simple shift in awareness.

Feel the ground.

Feel the ground.

Feel the ground.

Different from watching yourself feel the ground, really FEEL your feet on the ground.

Ultimately it’s sensory refinement that will save us.

XO, Kate

Weekly Share


IMG_5209Last weekend I attended a workshop for those affected by trauma.

Biggest takeaway: We all got it.

I would wager those on the sensitive spectrum have a large degree given our societally shunned disposition. Our bodies’ response to this rejection is a contracted form beginning at a very early age (more on trauma next week).

Second biggest takeaway: Emotions are managed through the rhythms of the heart + lungs.

In reality, all we ever have to do is breathe. There is never anything to think about.

Yet, when we are operating inside a contracted form, the mechanics of the body don’t allow for a deep breath. Chest breathing is all we know so we layer thought on top of thought because mechanically, the top up is all we have available.

I’m sure you have heard ‘breathe deeper’.   Unfortunately it’s not that black + white.

Breathing fully means we have to relax patterns of tension we have spent our entire lives protecting.   So it becomes a disentangling from belief systems, experiences, memories and emotions – all of which are buried deep in our subconscious.

So how do we do relax these patterns of tension?

Quite simply, we don’t.

We allow the body to relax for us.

Constructive Rest (a technique coined by Mable Todd and later elaborated on by Eric Franklin) has been profoundly helpful in my return to full body breathing.

It looks like lying flat on our backs, legs bent at the knees and the soles of our feet comfortably on the floor. This position pulls the hollow of the back towards the ground and allows for the pelvis to straighten itself out (both these regions contain our primary breathing muscles – areas most HSP’s underutilize). Any competing patterns of holding disappear into gravity and the body naturally lets go of stress.

So whatcha waiting for?

Get on the floor and let your body breathe you into a new reference point for relaxation.

And remember, it’s the contracted form and under utilization of breathing muscles that keeps emotions a ‘thing’. As the body begins to naturally self-organize, emotions are easily processed and managed.

XO, Kate

Short Musings


An eating disorder is a way to silence the noise.

Though not futile, it’s not the food that quiets the racket.  The nuanced levels of consciousness we traverse to move beyond the violent vibrations of addiction is what brings us to quiet. It’s a process of extreme subtlety and demands impeccable focus.

They say it takes 10 years to overcome an eating disorder. It’s been two decades and I just now feel as if I’m in the closing act. I rarely talk about the food because in the latter stages, it’s not relevant.

It never really was.

It’s about trusting the hush more than the noise as it’s the only thing that feels right.

The only thing. We know this.

And it’s that feeling that beckons us back to the body. Deep into layers of emotional din that our trained focus has grown delicately equipped to face.  Here we are gifted precious information and asked to stand by as our systems become self-aware.

THIS is the challenge of it all.

…to watch the information surface without gripping.

To refuse participation with the throw down rip-roaring between our conscious mind and the eroding subconscious beneath.

As we do, those forceful vibrations stored as resistance in our muscles organs and cells begin pulsating softly.

The journey toward a surrendered form is not for the feeble.

But it is for you and I. Quiet is our shared mission.

So I invite you to join me.

Nine weeks where our commitment takes precedence.

I see my role as a facilitator in bringing you home; a vessel for activating the navigational panel that exists in you. Disordered eating needn’t be the way shower any longer.

If interested, click here.

Short Musings


Hello my sensitive beings,

Not going to state the obvious or begin to explain where I have been the past several months since my last newsletter/proper communication.

I’ve been here.  Journeying deeper, as we all have.

My words have gone away again.  And in a world where online presence + social media smokescreens truth, it may look like I have disappeared.

But I haven’t.  I’m still here.

Dwelling in a reality underneath my daily/weekly/monthly sharing of experiences. My life feels more personal than ever.  In a way that I don’t feel compelled to disclose so much, so often.  There’s a recognition that my experiences and accompanying ‘lessons’ are for me.  They are what I need. The same way your life experiences are what you need.

So how do we maintain our relationship + connection to one another without sharing so much of our processes? {This question arose for you and I but certainly translates to our families, friends and the world at large}

I believe the answer is more listening…
To oneself.
Connection to ourselves is the only thing we need.
So we limit our default into internal/external commentary in favor of feeling the limitless.

We will always be in a process.  This I know for sure.

The sooner we can let go of the process by fully being in it, the sooner we will be swept away by the magic that’s waiting to take us higher, further, all the way to places we don’t yet know exist.

If you feel this call to connect underneath all the words, I urge you to explore a Universal Health Priniciples Session.  They are my consistent pull to magic.  A reminder that it’s connection to myself that I need (and not that sweet treat, external validation, new fall wardrobe, fill in the blank).

All the love,

PS.  This message brought to you by the hush found inside the Grand Canyon walls.

Short Musings


My relationship to time has been long-standing in its asymmetry.

A desire to balance that rapport, just as enduring.

The haste. The RUSH.

The undercurrent of frenetic energy that keeps me moving from one thought to the next.

One thing to the next.

I know it’s not ‘right’.

I also know I must leave the distortion be.

Lots of necessary realizations have come inside this unnatural hurriedness.

And today, a brand new one.

How exciting!

Another facet.

Allowing me to sink further into where I am without that pull of acceleration.

And in this moment, I see the facets so clearly.

Not just relative to ‘time’ but for everything I have ever writhed with.

The calculated stages of ‘seeing’.

It’s almost as if each facet is revealed in some insanely intelligent order.

This before that. And that before this.

The precision, uncanny.

Sometimes with a rather large reveal, it appears the writhe is over.

But alas, another facet awaits us.

Release can’t happen until we see the beauty of the whole damn knot.

I find myself waking up inside a beautiful web of knots.

Hundreds of angles, thousands of perspectives, millions of viewpoints.

There’s a deep calmness here.

A trust in the order of the untangling.

And an increasing accessibility into what wants to be loosened next.

Just like that, time is releasing me.

Short Musings


Koda and I captured here, Easter afternoon on our front lawn.

We watch as my family parcels belongings into their cars to head home.

The bare trees collide in the warmest wind this season has seen.

And I am very quiet.

Strangely quiet given the circumstance.

I’ve shared about the aftermath of family get-togethers before, how they’re generally filled with emotional noise.

Memories of missed connection typically flood my mind.

Holidays develop into some sort of perverse self-test scored by my ability to interact and relate.

A test I repeatedly fail.

But right now I do not feel as if I’ve flunked.

Instead there is an uproar of sensation in my body.

Ah yes, there you are.

A subtle awareness that my current solitude is amplifying this sensation.

And a secondary awareness of its surprising availability, albeit less perceptible, in the context of family.

There were stretches this weekend where the sensation was strong.

And times where I could barely feel it. Like earlier this morning when I awoke to angst and a familiar pressure for perfection.

The Easter baskets needed to be assembled just ‘right’.

The ham and hash browns had to be impeccable.

The desire for a flawless setting was suffocating.

Because somewhere deep inside, my cells are coded to believe that an immaculate exterior will earn me the connection I crave.

The comprehension of this longings origin is somewhat new, as is the resulting compassion.

So as the ham fails to de-thaw, the hash browns burn and the Easter baskets aren’t yet made, I am able to hover over myself in some assembly of softness.

Ducking into the bathroom, tears fall alongside my whirling mind of perception-based love as it wrestles with my bodies growing sensation of actual love.

I walk back into a family-filled kitchen with salty eyelashes, slightly scathed by this internal showdown.

But I can feel me. The sensation builds when I let it all be.

Oh Kate, you are learning that your salvation is physical.

Your cells are slowly waking up.

Matter is spreading, spiraling outside of its constrictive coding.

It does not happen all at once.

It is growing. Every day it is growing. Every day is quieter, isn’t it?

Soon you will trust this sensation in entirety.

Soon connection will be stronger than this story of perfection.

And so we bask. In the sun. Inside this future memory.


Short Musings


Somewhere along the Red Road our cell phone signals disappear.

Siri can no longer navigate this stretch of Pacific Coast line.

Will and I share anticipatory glances and continue on.

Four days in and it’s clear we’re far from dictating what’s happening on our 10-day excursion, Hawaii is.

At some point the road ends.

Nothing but black sand beaches and a shop, maybe two.

We head inside in search of beverages to quench a late afternoon thirst.

Standing in line to pay, the man in front of us turns around and looks me square in the eyes with utter disgust.

My heart starts to pound…

Shortly thereafter, I’m approached by a few locals who ask me where I’m from in a very ‘you shouldn’t be here’ sorta way.

At this point, my heart is somewhere outside my chest.

Uneasy as hell, I insist we leave sans beverages and head towards the black sand beaches instead.

Speed walking across the shattered lava, its magnetic pull becomes palpable.

Something’s being drawn out of me.

Swirling and sweating, I think I may faint.

Without a word, I bolt towards the car.

We get back on the Red Road and head the way we came.

I grab Wills hand as I’m scaring myself and can sense I’m scaring him too.

All I can do is breathe exaggeratedly and squeeze his hand every so often to let him know I’m IN something.

He detects I need to be with the trees and pulls over.

We stay there awhile.

Until I see her.

…the face of an old woman in the form of a massive rock on the beach just beyond the tree line.

I take assurance in this face and remember Hawaii’s on my side.

This land, too raw. Too real.

Anything incongruent to truth appears to be magnifying without restraint.

And with that, the insight lands.

My fear of rejection, clear as this bluebird day.

Those people in the store, their faces of disgust & disapproval, simply mirroring the fear of rejection I carry so adamantly.

In this moment, it begs me to feel it so I can see passed its illusion.

And so.

Thank You Hawaii. I’m humbled by your forceful transparency.

But this is not why I share this story.

The insight that arose on this stretch of coastline, very deep.

And there’s something that happens all too regularly when an insight like this descends.

The truth gets hijacked.

My mind comes rushing in with its magnified glass and detective garb, adopting said truth as its own.

My reality is suddenly a stream of narratives attempting to figure it all out.

And this is where something light becomes something heavy.

Intuition morphs into fear.

The hijacking is so damn subtle.

Especially when the truth that’s being shown is a cavernous wound.

The deeper the wound, the bigger and burlier (and consequently more camouflaged) the band of hijakers.

And so what do we do?

How do we begin to live in only insights?

Life is asking me this in a major way and I want to share my tools:

So here goes:

  1. FOLLOW THE SIGNS – for me its repeating numbers, birds (any animal, really), it’s faces in clouds, messages from trees, and patterns of all sorts. Anything that connects me to the invisible world. There were many times on this trip where the feeling was potent and I wanted to go into story about it. And often times I did. Until I would glance at the clock and it would read 3:33 or a magical yellow bird would swoop into my eyesight. Reminders to stay in feeling. Prompts to refocus. And that’s we’re the insight would come through. Without fail. So follow your signs. They are everywhere if you are looking for them.
  1. BREATH+ WATER – Quite obvious but also quite easy to forget. Emotions are processed through breath and water (not a magnified glass and detective garb as your mind will lead you to believe). Also, sharing some beautiful advice from my friend Peter, “Use your breath to settle more into Kate. From there you can begin to focus on the harmony rather than the insecurities your mind is creating.” 
  1. STAY IN THE OBSERVER ROLE – This one is easier said than done. It’s definitely a muscle and I wake up every day excited to train it. Quite simply, the more we stay in the observer role, the more enjoyable life becomes. Often times, I’ll take a birds eye view of my physical self. It helps my mind to create that literal space. From there I’ll observe. Am I relaxed? Am I breathing? Can I relax more? And repeat…and repeat…and repeat…and repeat.
  1. LAUGH – My pain makes me forget my humor at times. Seriousness can be so real when there is a wound that needs protecting. Luckily for me, I married a man who makes me laugh often and much. Back on that Red Road as I told him I was processing something mammoth, he turned to me with his adorable wit and said, “so like are you gona be done by dinner?” I couldn’t help but giggle.   If you can’t bring lightness to your pain, find someone/something who can help you remember it. This might be #1 in terms of tools. It’s everything.
  1. LEARN THE LANGUAGE OF INSIGHT – Well I am going to tout Universal Health Principles here because for me it’s just this. It’s a language beyond the mind. One that allows insights to arrive rather than forcing their arrival. It allows one to witness a wisdom that is eons more intelligent than we are.  And the witnessing begets trust.  The more I practice and receive these UHP sessions, the more I trust only the insights. Everything else is becoming just noise.  A noise that’s slowly and steadily easier to tune out.  XOXO