No. People arrive in every state, and I’ve stopped believing there’s a right one. Some come the week after a funeral. Some come ten years later. Plenty come without anyone specific in mind, just curious about what’s there. What I’ve noticed is that spirit tends to meet you as you are now, not only as you were when the person left. So whatever state you’re in when you sit down is the one this works from.

I’d rather you didn’t, and I mean that warmly. Questions about how I work are always welcome. The rest, who you’re hoping for, what’s going on in your life, I’d like to receive fresh. I’ve found over the years that the connection is clearest when it’s purely inspired. Once I know something, I can’t un-know it, and then I’m sorting inspiration from memory in the middle of a session. Better for both of us if I’ve got nothing to sort.

No storybook visions. It arrived quietly. A radio clicking on to the right song, a time on the clock that kept showing up, a timing to people and encounters that repeated too often to dismiss. It went well beyond those things, but it never announced itself. Underneath was a feeling I had no word for: familiar, like something that had always been part of me, and something I could trust. It never rushed me or asked to be named. It never had an urgent message. It was more like a calling back into myself. What I’d call it now is spirit. Back then I didn’t need a word for it.

Nobody, and for a long time that bothered me. I’d always believed you learn anything by finding a guide who already knows how. What I got instead were the experiences themselves, the synchronicities, my husband, and a curiosity in me that kept asking for more. That turned out to be the teacher. I’ve always wanted to realize things myself rather than be told them. Some people would call that defiant. From where I sit now, it was exactly what this needed.

With business cards. We’d just landed in Echo Park, there was no website and no Yelp, and I didn’t know anyone in Los Angeles except my husband. I took a stack of cards on my daily walk with the dog and left one on a coffee shop counter here, one on a bench there, never handing them to anyone. Within a week the phone was ringing. Within a month I was on radio shows. I still think about that when people ask how you start anything. You focus on what it would feel like, and you leave the cards.

Because the words never fit me, and most of them make people feel like their own beliefs aren’t invited. I say channel, or medium when a plain word is needed. What I’m doing is simpler than the vocabulary around it: I focus my energy so a live connection can come through, and I say what I get. Spirit is the easiest word I have for the rest, and even that one I hold loosely.

We talk. I’m not solemn about this. I laugh a lot, and I’ll say the strange small detail out loud before I’ve worked out what it means. You tell me what you recognize, and we go from there. What comes through is the shape of your life: family, work, health, the patterns that are ready to be seen, and the people who love you, whether or not they still have a body. About halfway through I’ll check in and ask if there’s someone you were hoping for. Nothing is scripted. It’s different every single time, which is the part I still love most.

Connecting with a spirit is like dancing. Some pair with my energy instantly, some take a while to warm up, and a few are quiet. None of that has ever meant they were unwilling or not okay. Hold the hope lightly if you can; a tight grip creates its own static. When I check in, I’ll want only a first name or a nickname, and I’ll shift my energy and invite them. I never force it. Most of what comes through already has a tie to you, and in my experience it’s usually exactly who needed to show up, even when it wasn’t who you expected.

In fifteen years and thousands of sessions, not one spirit has come through with judgment, fear, or an urgent message. Spirit doesn’t do urgency. What they bring is your life together, the things left unsaid, and a taste of the wellbeing they’re in. Not one of them has ever said they were anything but okay. I don’t say that to soothe you. It’s just what has kept showing up, every time.

Yes, and I was the last one to believe it. Before 2020 I only worked in person, and when everything moved online I was sure a screen would change the connection, maybe end it. Years later, with clients all over the world, there’s no difference I can find. Spirit has nothing to do with location. It has everything to do with intent. Most of my sessions are on Zoom now. In person is still the thing I love most, so if you’re near North Hollywood, come sit with me.

Cold reading is broad statements and narrowing questions dressed up as insight. I don’t work that way, and you’ll know within a few minutes. I give you the specific thing, a name, a phrase, the way they always did one particular thing, and it lands or it doesn’t. I’d rather it fail honestly than succeed sloppily. That’s what evidential means to me. It’s also why I don’t want information ahead of time: I’d rather have nothing to fish with.

Not the way people mean. I’ll pick up what’s close, because that’s energy already in motion, but I don’t do fortune telling. No soulmates, no lottery numbers, no ten-year plan, and no verdicts on whether to leave him or whether she’s toxic. Those are living, complicated things that deserve respect. A cheap answer from me takes away the one thing I think this is actually about: your own focus, and how it shapes what comes next. That chair is yours.

Still do, a little, before someone arrives. My first paid session I was terrified, and for about two years the pattern was completely in the zone during and self-judging all night after. I think of those years as tuition. What they taught me was to give a session everything, close the door behind it, and go enjoy my life. A little nerves now just tells me I care about the precision and the gravity of this. I’d worry more if they went away.

I observe. I don’t diagnose and I don’t direct. What I see are patterns, a lot like noticing where someone has been holding their breath without knowing it. The point is awareness and alignment, never fear or dependency. It isn’t a substitute for a doctor, and I’ll never pretend it is.

Yes, and it’s included. Zoom sessions are recorded and emailed to you. In person, either of us can record. Most people are glad later that they did, because the small details are the ones that keep landing for weeks. I’m never going to sell you another session. If you want to come back, you’ll know.

Because I’m not fixing anything and I’m not handing you a plan. Therapy is work you do with a professional over time, and I have real respect for it. This is ninety minutes where I step out of the way and something comes through that reminds you of what you already know. People are often surprised it doesn’t take a mountain of work. Not more therapy, more yoga, more practices. Just recognition. If anything, the classroom and the counseling taught me how to get out of the way.

Almost certainly not, and you’re not imagining it. Lights, doors, that feeling in the hallway: I’ve had it nearly everywhere I’ve lived. It tends to show up during big life changes, or when grief is turned all the way up. Nine times out of ten it’s leftover energy in the space, or a loved one trying to get your attention. Fear feeds it, and so does judgment. I don’t sage anything, and I don’t treat spirit like a pest problem. I come out, walk the space with you, and we sort out what’s yours, what isn’t, and how you become the predominant energy in your own home. I do this for homes and businesses. It’s called The Walk-Through. Email me and we’ll set it up.

In their own way, yes, and nobody needs me to tell them to wake up or go within. A directive from someone else isn’t an inner directive. I’m not here to bang pots over anyone’s head. What I do is no more and no less incredible than a surgeon’s hands, a dancer’s focus, a musician’s ear. It’s a focus. Everyone has one somewhere, and it usually doesn’t look like mine.