You've kept everyone's fire lit. This one's lit for you.
The most alive, most you room you'll be in all month --
oracle readings and celebrations as the seasons turn;
big laughter and real conversation;
magic and mischief and rest.
Where you get tended to -- in all the ways you didn't even know to ask for.
Come warm yourself, then go be brave.
We gather on the second and last Sunday of each month, at 10am Pacific.
The first fire is lit to prepare for Samhain -- Sunday, October 25th.
10am Pacific | 1pm Eastern | 6pm UK | 7pm Central Europe
You've carried more than most people know. And a lot of it, you carried alone.
You worked most of the day. Also managed to do most of everyone's laundry.
Made dinner, for everyone. And now, finally, you lower onto the
couch for the first time since morning... your whole body exhales...
this is the moment that's yours -- then the dog barks to come in.
Somehow, in a house full of people, you're the only one who hears it.
So you get back up.
You're the one who feels everything, the one people lean on and hand their heavy things to --
because you can hold it, and always have. They love you; that's not in question.
But to the people in your world, you're the one who handles it.
And being needed, it turns out, is not the same as being seen.
Not the whole of you. Not everything you've lived through,
and everything you learned by getting through it.
That kind of seeing comes from women who are like you.
The ones who've been through their own hard nights,
who hear your story and know it from the inside,
because they've lived their own version of it.
Women who just get it.
Picture the life where every month you get to be with YOUR PEOPLE .
Not another meeting -- for a gathering.
The one you've been looking forward to since the last one ended.
Where the conversation goes straight to the good stuff:
the ancestral ways, the moon, the medicine,
how we're going to pull the matriarchy back up
out of the ground where they buried it.
Where you say the thing you'd normally keep to yourself --
and the women around you lean in, nod, reach for a pen.
Because they're not just hearing you.
They're gathering strength from your stories,
and offering you theirs in return.
You have a good life.
So why doesn't it feel like enough?
You're not ungrateful. You're not broken. And there's nothing wrong with you for feeling this way.
Here's the truth of it: you don't know what you want anymore because
you've spent so long tuned to what everyone else needs that your own signal went quiet.
Not gone. Just quiet -- because no one ever asks, and there's never a moment still enough to hear it.
You've done the work. You've built the life. You do things that make you happy.
And still there's a hollow spot where fulfilled should be -- and you've quietly started to wonder if that's your fault.
It isn't. Fulfillment was never going to come from doing more of what looks "right".
It comes from finally being in a room that asks a question no one's asked you in years:
what do you want?
and then the room gets quiet, and leans in, and actually waits for your answer.
Building that room is what I do.
Helping a woman tune into her own signal again -- after years of it being drowned out by everyone else.
This is what I've spent my life learning to do, and I've watched it land home with every kind of woman --
from acupuncturists and yoga instructors in their thirties to women starting over at seventy.
I'm not here to fix you -- you were never broken.
I'm here to open the door to a life that feels as good on the inside as it looks from the outside.
Pull up a chair at a fire that's yours. You'll be amazed at what you dare to dream once you're warm.
Why does this work better than the other stuff I've tried?
The practice is the Stardust & Soil Method.
Because the woman who knows what she wants – and dares to go get it – is built from two things, not one.
Soil is the grounding. The earth and its seasons. The tending you finally turn toward yourself – and the deep work underneath it,
where what's been left unnoticed gets turned into what feeds you. This is the real digging, held this time by women who get you.
Stardust is the rising. Spirit, magic, wonder – play and delight and wanting things out loud, chasing the dream you filed under someday.
What you finally reach for, once you're rooted enough to want it.
I want to be clear about one thing: you can't do this alone. You've been the one holding it all up by yourself – this is the thing that finally isn't solo.
This is the only way I know that consistently gives you both things you need: to be tended and to be set loose.
Twice a month, on purpose, with your people.
And you'll feel it the first time. You'll log off lighter than you logged on, already a little more yourself.
That's not a someday transformation. It's the same afternoon.
You're not starting from nothing – you've already built the life. This just takes all the energy you've been pouring into everyone else and turns it, at last, toward you.
A container for all the seasons | $111/mo
Here's how the fire gets tended.
The Hearth follows the Wheel of the Year -- the old turning of the seasons.
Each gathering meets the moment we're actually in:
what the season is asking, what it's time to release, what it's time to grow.
So you're never getting scattered tips.
You're moving through one coherent year,
each turn laying down another layer of the work.
We gather twice a month -- the second and last Sunday, 10am Pacific -- in two different kinds of fire.
The first Circle is the open one.
We come as we are, bring what's on our minds, share it out while we
make things with our hands, talk, and -- when the mood takes us --
turn the music up and move it all through our bodies.
This is where you're heard.
Where you remember you're interesting, and funny, and not alone.
The second Circle goes deep.
Slower, sacred, ritual -- the real digging, the descent you were never meant to make by yourself.
This is where the season's work actually lands in your body, and where the roots go down.
Across the year
we work with all of it -- Oracle, ritual, the moon and the seasons, sound as healing,
herbal knowledge passed down from the ancestors,
and the practices you bring to the table yourself.
Not a scattered pile of modalities.
One through-line:
what does staying rooted and rising look like this season?
And you're never dropped between gatherings:
Weekly oracle readings to keep you tuned to your own knowing.
Playlists -- with moods to match -- for whenever something needs to move and you can't move it alone.
And a room of women one message away, so the tending doesn't stop when the call ends.
You don't just attend The Hearth. You build a practice inside it -- one that's still yours long after the season turns.
WHEN DO WE GO LIVE?
October 25th, 2026 | First Hearth Circle - Preparing for Samhain
Every second and last Sunday of the month at 10am Pacific
All sessions are recorded. Replays available in your private video library if you can't join live.
What it costs -- and what you're actually getting.
Two live Circles a month with me -- not a video library you'll forget the password to, but real time in the room, every month, all year. Held by a Master Circle Facilitator who's done this with women for years, so the room actually goes deep instead of staying in the small talk. The whole turning of the year, mapped, so you're building one practice instead of collecting scattered tips. Oracle readings, playlists, guidebooks, and a room of women a message away when the week gets heavy.
The Hearth is $111 a month -- or $555 for half a year.
Here's the honest math: $111 is two nights out with the women you love. Two date nights you'd book without a second thought -- the good dinner, the real laughter, the leaving-lighter-than-you-came. Except this warmth doesn't end when the check comes, and you leave with your own fire fully tended.
You can join for one month at a time. But here's what I've watched: the women this changes are the ones who deeply commit to a season.
Fulfillment won't come after a single good night -- it's a rhythm. Give it the turning of the seasons, and it stops being something you visit and becomes something you're built from.
Come once, and you'll understand why the women at this fire don't leave.
Why I can help.
The certifications, since they count: Master Circle Facilitator, Intuitive Rebirth practitioner, Holistic Life Coach, and Master Food Preserver (yes, that's real -- I like my magic and my mason jars).
But that's not why you'd trust me with your fire.
When I was nineteen, I moved to France to be a nanny -- no French, no plan, just a felt yes and three children who needed someone to take care of them. Their mother was deep in a depression she couldn't climb out of, and somewhere between the meals I cooked and the days I quietly held together, the oldest boy -- fifteen -- said something I've never forgotten: "Having you here is the first time I feel like I have a real mom."
No training, no framework, nineteen years old. But I know now what he was telling me -- that I'd made that house feel safe. That I could walk into a room full of quiet suffering and, without anyone asking, make it a place where people could finally exhale.
I've done that my whole life; I just kept calling it other things. A private dining business with my husband, where the food was only ever the doorway to real people discovering real things about themselves and each other. Wine education, translating what you taste into what you feel.
And finally Circle facilitation -- where it all clicked into one thing: I don't perform sanctuary. I create it. I always have.
I can hold the hard things, not just because I've trained to, but because I've lived them -- I've buried grandparents, an uncle, a cousin -- and my younger brother; survived a marriage that left bruises; been through bankruptcy and a life so unrooted I moved every two or three years for as long as I can remember.
But whatever the circumstance, I found my way to a fire -- and eventually realized I was the one making it. The warmth came with me, because it was me.
So when you bring the heavy thing, I won't flinch. I've been on the floor, and I know the way back up. That's what The Hearth is: the fire I've always made, built now on purpose, for you. Bring whatever you're carrying. I'll meet you there, ask the questions no one else thinks to ask, and stay with you through the answers. Not to fix you -- you were never broken. Just to help you feel, maybe for the first time in a long time, completely at home being exactly who you are.
What my sisters have to say.
This is a live experience and all sales are final. If you show up and do the work, this will change something in you. I'm that confident. See you inside.