On a Personal Note

Hello there! I’ve been focusing on keeping this blog limited to clinically relevant information, my advice and perspective around healing. This bit below isn’t entirely opposite of that, but the original purpose of the words was fulfilling my desire to share a bit about myself on my social media accounts.

Still, I think it can be helpful sometimes to know who you’ll be talking to in a session, assuming you don’t just start snoozing! I do my best to translate my perspective to fit whoever I’m working with, but the bits below are closest to my unfiltered perspective on people and life.

If you don’t know the folks in the first line, feel free to look them up, both have a pretty strong online presence, and a lot of good talks & writing. Without further ado:


I think my perspective on life is 50% Alain de Botton, and 50% Ram Dass. Half psychology, and half spiritual.

The former essentially says we’re each individually kind of a mess and that’s okay. The latter saying essentially that we’re unified ultimately by an infinitely wise and loving Oneness.

I think either perspective might be hard to take on depending on the person. Of the two I think the psychology is easier to argue, certainly easier to study and prove that we all have various neuroses and coping mechanisms we pick up. We all have our aspects of enduring immaturity and ridiculousness, and yet somehow we muddle through. I think many people make the mistake of thinking they’re uniquely messed up when I think the awareness and willingness to continue to work on oneself is the unique part, not the wounds.

The spiritual side is one I’ve long struggled internally to argue. And I’ve concluded, it’s not something meant for debate. I don’t think there’s any particular words that can beat out a single heart breaking story of life’s horrendously challenging ways.

I think it’s experiences of loss, prayer, meditation, psychedelics, various ways people come to actually touch and connect with this universal Love that changes people in ways that words just can’t adequately convey.

And in that way psychology and spirituality are similar: people have to find the humility to choose to try something different. Usually it’s through significant hardship that people really put in the work to second guess their own viewpoint of the world. And despite however much good intention exists, no one can do that work for someone else.

I really like this rabbit, to me it symbolizes vulnerability and boundaries. The capacity to love one’s self enough to protect yourself.

I think its helpful to acknowledge both, that we’re so foundationally all in this together and that life can be confusing and scary and cause people to act unkind and harmful out of ignorance and fear.

So, here’s to all of us, here’s to being kind and loving to ourselves and each other. And to this badass rabbit with a morning star flail thingie. 

Gobbledigook, International Anthem

🐿️ Why “Gobbledigook” by Sigur Rós Should Be Our New International Anthem

Because Nothing Unites a People Like Joyful Nonsense in a Forest

Let’s face it:
Most anthems are basically a war chant set to a range nobody can sing sober.

It’s time for a change.
A bold, barefoot, slightly feral change.
And Sigur Rós’s “Gobbledigook” is that change.


🎶 1. Because No One Knows the Words—and That’s the Point

Forget lyrics you’re supposed to remember.
“Gobbledigook” is an ecstatic Icelandic chant-spell disguised as a song.
Is it real language? Who cares. It’s vibe-first.
We don’t need meaning—we need feeling.
And this song feels like:

  • Running through dew-soaked moss
  • Laughing naked under the aurora
  • Being reborn as a woodland creature named Þorbjörn

🌳 2. Because It Makes You Want to Strip Down and Dance

This is the only international anthem that:

  • Encourages synchronized clapping
  • Works barefoot
  • Doubles as cardio
  • Causes spontaneous forest frolicking
  • Sparks primitive healing rituals with strangers you just met

And isn’t that what an anthem should be?


🦊 3. Because It Unites All People—Especially the Feral Ones

What binds us together isn’t shared language or flag-waving.

It’s collective absurdity.
It’s joy without translation.
It’s looking each other in the eyes while half-hopping in circles like enchanted elk.

“Gobbledigook” says: You belong here. Come dance. We brought an absence of pants.


🎖️ 4. The Transition Ceremony

Imagine the Olympic podium.
Gold medalist steps up.
Not a trumpet. Not a cannon.
Just:

BOMP-BOMP clap clap
“la-la-laa-LA la-la-laa-LA…”

A nation erupts into primal dance.
The stadium fills with birdsong and existential freedom.
Someone releases a fox.

The world, reborn.


✨ Final Thoughts

In a world that’s lost the plot, maybe we don’t need a serious anthem.
Maybe we need one that reminds us to be a little silly. A little wild. A little free.

Running through the woods, clapping our hands to the heartbeat of a song we don’t understand—but deeply, deeply feel.

“Gobbledigook” for international anthem.

May your moss always be soft.

All Are Welcome Here: A Safe Space for LGBTQ+ Clients

“Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.”

—Rumi, The Guest House

I’ve been surprised—and honestly, really touched—to hear how many of my new patients say they’ve read my blog posts. It makes me happy to know I can start connecting and helping even before someone walks through the door.

I can be a fairly introverted guy myself, and I get how reassuring it is to get a feel for the person you’ll be trusting with your care before ever stepping into the room.

That’s especially true for folks in the LGBTQ+ community. Nearly everyone I’ve met from that community has, in some way, experienced moments of unsafety and bias. So it makes sense that there’s an extra layer of challenge when taking that vulnerable first step toward care.

It might seem like a surprising connection, but many of the veterans I work with have confided in me that they’ve felt pre-judged as well. They’ve felt like people were responding more to preconceived notions of a veteran—or to their tattoos, or something surface-level rather than seeing them for who they really are as people.

I’m tearing up just writing this because I think in regards to either community, its a really important part of the work that I try to do. I want to always seek to set aside my own potential biases, my own knee-jerk reactions, and instead be present with and get to know whoever shows up to my practice.

As a healer, that matters. It matters that I take the time to understand and really connect with each person that comes in. It matters that I come to understand the context of their lives rather than simply focus on their diagnosis. While I’m not a licensed therapist (and I’m always transparent about that), I do believe that emotional safety is as essential to healing as physical safety.

I’m not perfect, but I take this safety as a sacred duty. Every person who comes into my practice deserves to be cared for as a whole person, and if nothing else, I do my best to make space for whatever that entails.

If you’ve ever felt nervous about trying acupuncture, massage, or just showing up somewhere new, I hope this helps. I promise that, whoever you are, I’ll do my best to meet you with patience, presence, and care. Everyone is welcome.