Then, in 2019, I followed a breadcrumb.

That breadcrumb led me from Washington, DC to San Diego for a breathwork certification with women I’d only met through WhatsApp.

I flew across the country, took an Uber through the dark, and followed a series of messages telling me the garage code, which room to enter, and which bed was supposedly mine.

When I arrived, one woman was already asleep. I happily claimed the futon.

Then another woman arrived after me and climbed into bed with the woman who was already sleeping.

My husband was slightly freaked out.

I was, too.

Apparently not enough to leave.

The entire situation had a slightly shady Craigslist vibe, except Craigslist wasn’t the point.

Trusting the universe was.

And somehow, I did.

Breathwork cracked some of my armoring.

I’d spent years being very good at thinking, achieving, managing, pushing forward, and generally living from the neck up. But after that first breathwork journey, as I slowly returned to planet Earth, someone looked at me and said:

“Wow. Something happened to you.”

She was right.

Something had.

Breathwork gave me an experience I couldn’t think my way into.

I could simply feel.

Not fix. Not analyze. Not understand.

Feel.

And for someone who’d spent a lifetime learning how to do, that experience of simply being changed something in me.

Naturally, I then needed to understand why.

Apparently, even my surrender requires continuing education.

Astrology came differently. It became a mirror—a way of seeing my own contradictions with more acceptance and other people’s differences with more curiosity and less judgment.

Human behavior brought so much of it together.

Because ultimately, I’m fascinated by what happens between people.

How we communicate. How we connect. How we build trust. How we make one another feel seen, understood, safe, challenged, or sometimes mildly confused.

I love money, markets, and a good investment thesis. I love beautiful clothes, running, learning something that completely changes my mind, and probably having too many interests at once.

But the center of my life is much simpler.

I’m a wife. I’m a mom of three. I’m a human who cares deeply about my relationships and the people I love.

I’ve built a full life, and I’m still ambitious about what’s next.

I just don’t want to be so busy building, learning, achieving, and managing it that I miss the experience of actually being in it.

Maybe that’s why all of my seemingly unrelated interests keep bringing me back to the same question:

How do we become more skillful at being human—and more present for the life we already have?

That’s the work I’m interested in.

I’m still doing it, too.

Still learning. Still noticing. Still getting it wrong sometimes. Still fascinated by how much there is to understand about ourselves, each other, and this wildly ordinary, extraordinary life we get to live.

And I love working with people who want to be awake for theirs, too.

People who are curious about themselves and the people around them. Who want depth without taking themselves—or any of this—quite so seriously. Who have built full lives and want to actually experience them.

We’ll talk about nervous systems, human behavior, communication, influence, relationships, money, and whatever else helps us become more skillful at being human.

Because I’m still figuring it out, too.

Preferably with curiosity, a sense of humor, and something fabulous to wear along the way.

P.S. In actual day-to-day life, the fabulous outfit is probably hanging in my closet while I’m wearing athleisure. The universe has jokes, too.

xx,
Tanya