Therapy, as I practice it, is about learning to walk in all kinds of weather.

The people I tend to work with are aware, often creative, and have usually done enough self-reflection to know that more self-reflection alone isn't going to be sufficient. They come because something is wrong, or because something is missing, or because those two things have quietly become the same thing. They are not looking to be optimized.

We create something together over time: a shared language, a way of paying attention, a space where what is usually unconscious or unspoken can become visible. That doesn't happen quickly, and it doesn't follow a protocol. It requires genuine encounter — honesty on both sides, a willingness to sit with what's uncomfortable, and enough trust to keep going when the path isn't clear.

I bring a long memory and close attention to what recurs, what gets avoided, and what is undervalued in a person — often the very things that don't fit the self someone has had to perform. I'm direct without being dominating, and I won't flatter you or agree with the harsher verdicts you've already reached about yourself. What tends to change is building a different intimacy with yourself. Less compulsion to run toward whatever the culture is selling as the answer.

I've been doing this work for fifteen years, in community mental health and in private practice. I trained at Pacifica Graduate Institute. I work with individuals and couples across California, mostly via telehealth, with limited in-person sessions in Ojai.