Gathering Around The Mother Ache

Reweaving Together

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been sitting with notebooks spread across my kitchen table, outlining and dreaming into the offerings that will begin this August around my book The Mother Ache: Healing The Wounded Daughter Within.

There is something deeply moving about this stage of the work for me.

For so many years, these ideas lived quietly inside journals, client sessions, conversations with women, and my own healing journey. Then they morphed into a manuscript. And now, as the book begins making its way into the world, I find myself thinking not only about the book itself and but alos the spaces of connection that can grow around it.

Again and again, I return to the understanding that healing rarely happens in isolation.

Insight matters. Understanding matters. Reading words that help us feel seen can be profoundly supportive. And yet so much transformation happens through relationship. Through being witnessed honestly. Through hearing another woman speak something we thought we carried alone. Through slowly teaching the nervous system that connection can feel safe again.

This is the heart behind the August offerings I am beginning to shape now.

There will be two seven-month immersion groups, one in person here in Boulder and one held over Zoom for women joining from farther away. Alongside those groups, I will also begin monthly year-long Zoom gatherings connected to the themes of The Mother Ache.

As I sketch ideas and make notes, I keep thinking about the kind of spaces I would have longed for earlier in my own healing journey. Spaces that feel grounded, relational, embodied, and human. Spaces where women can arrive exactly as they are without needing to perform healing or wisdom. Spaces where we can explore the mother ache gently and honestly, while also reclaiming self-trust, creativity, voice, rest, and connection to the body.

I imagine conversations that unfold slowly over time. Shared practices. Breath. Meditation. Honest reflection. Laughter too. I imagine women beginning to recognize themselves more clearly beneath old protective patterns and inherited conditioning.

More and more, I feel that healing the mother ache is not only about understanding the past. It is also about creating new experiences in the present. Experiences of connection, safety, honesty, and belonging that gradually reshape the nervous system from the inside out.

There is something beautiful about gathering in community during this kind of work. The shame and isolation so many women carry begin softening when spoken aloud in compassionate spaces. We remember we are not alone in our longing, our tenderness, or our becoming.

And perhaps this is part of the deeper reweaving.

Not becoming someone new, though returning to the parts of ourselves that have been waiting patiently beneath years of adaptation and striving. Returning to the body. Returning to inner authority. Returning to the steady wisdom that has always lived beneath the noise.

As spring slowly turns toward summer here in the foothills above Boulder, I feel grateful to be entering this next chapter. The book launch this past week was deeply moving, though in many ways it feels like the beginning rather than the culmination.

The real work, as always, happens in relationship. In community. In the slow and sacred process of learning how to remain present with ourselves and one another.

I look forward to sharing more details about the August offerings soon.

For now, I’m here at the kitchen table, listening for the threads and beginning to weave.