Grounded In Grace - Holistic Health Center

10/20/2026

09/18/2026

We all acknowledge that the body is "all connected", but we rarely recognize just how deep that connection goes. Nothing functions in true isolation - this is a singular system made of many moving parts. Exploring the unexpected ways this interplay manifests itself in our everyday experience has become one of the things I find most fascinating to learn. There is so much we are still discovering about ourselves!✨🌱

09/03/2026

Well... Grounded In Grace officially opened its doors this week!🥳

And apparently my body decided opening day was the perfect time to make sure I'm prepared to practice what I preach. 😅

Halfway through my first day of seeing clients, my ankle essentially sprained itself.

No trip. No fall. No misstep or unseen obstacle. I simply took a step forward and suddenly my ankle was screaming in pain.

At first, I tried to work through it. I kept telling myself it couldn't possibly be anything serious because nothing had *happened* to injure it.

Except... something had been happening.

I'd spent the previous week working long days on my feet getting the new space ready, sleeping less than usual, pushing myself physically, and then moved straight into a full work schedule without much opportunity to recover.

And looking back, my body had been talking to me.

After those long days, my right foot and ankle would ache and bother me. I noticed it, but beyond rubbing it a little and getting a short night's rest, I didn't really respond to what it was telling me.

Eventually, those whispers became a scream.

Once I had my ankle examined and learned that it was actually sprained, I had to accept that my body was no longer asking me to slow down. It was *demanding* it.

So, just a day and a half into this brand-new chapter, I found myself canceling the rest of my week and doing the very thing I'm building so much of Grounded In Grace around:

**Listening to my body and honoring what it needs.**

Not exactly how I pictured opening week. 😂 But I can't help appreciating the irony.

So much of learning to listen to our bodies isn't about waiting until something hurts badly enough that we have no choice but to pay attention. It's learning to recognize the quieter signals along the way. The ache. The fatigue. The tension. The subtle sense that something needs a little more care than we're giving it.

Would listening sooner have prevented this? I can't know that.

But I do know there were whispers before there was a scream. The problem wasn't that I didn't hear them. I was just so busy with everything else that felt more important that I didn't make the time to respond.

And isn't that so often where we get caught?

There will always be things that feel urgent. Work to finish. People who need us. Responsibilities that don't stop just because our bodies are tired or hurting.

But we only get one body to carry us through all of it. If we continually put its needs at the bottom of the list, eventually we may find ourselves with no choice but to stop and listen.

That's part of this new chapter for me, too.

Learning, again and again, to listen when my body whispers so it doesn't have to scream quite so loudly to get my attention.

I'm still learning too. We're all on this journey together.🌱💗

09/03/2026

Looking forward to continuing my training with IoAS. This work is so important!

08/22/2026

**The End of an Era**

Today I finished the last appointment I'll be taking in the space that has been home to my work for my entire 11+ year career in massage and reflexology.

Wow, it feels strange to even write that!

I first walked into this space fresh out of school, brand new to the field and still figuring out what kind of practitioner I wanted to be. I started here as an employee, eventually took the scary step of venturing out on my own, and somewhere along the way this little space became so much more than the place where I went to work.

It became a home away from home. A sanctuary of sorts. A place where I grew into myself and my work, where relationships were built, where countless conversations and quiet moments were shared, and where I slowly began to understand that the work I wanted to do in this world was becoming bigger than what I had originally imagined.

This room has held so much of my story, but when I think about everything these walls have held over the last eleven years, it's really the people who fill those memories.

The clients who have trusted me with your care, shared pieces of your lives with me, supported my work, referred your friends and families, and in many ways grown right alongside me over the years.

Some of you have been walking through that door almost as long as I have!

There is one person in particular who is woven deeply into this chapter. For nearly seven years, I had the privilege of working alongside Theresa Sumerfelt, who became an unofficial mentor to me as I found my footing in this field. She shared her knowledge and experience freely, answered questions, offered guidance, and, whether she knew it or not, helped shape so much of how I learned to navigate this work.

When she eventually retired from massage, her leaving created the opportunity for me to step out on my own. And because of everything I had learned working beside her, I was equipped to make that transition with far more confidence and grace than I probably realized at the time.

There's something especially poetic about thinking of that now. Her ending helped create a new beginning for me, and now I find myself standing at the threshold of another, wondering what new beginnings might bloom next.

I'm also grateful for all of the wonderful colleagues I've had the privilege of working alongside over the years, and for the people who have owned and cared for this establishment and given me the space and opportunity to grow a practice of my own within it.

And today, I close the door on that chapter.

I've been sitting with a lot of overlapping emotions as this day's been approaching, and I'm realizing there isn't really one neat word for what I'm feeling.

There is sadness in saying goodbye to something that has been such a constant in my life for so long. There is an enormous amount of gratitude for the people, experiences, and this familiar little space that's helped get me here. There is pride and excitement in knowing that I've grown enough to take this next step.

And there is fear.

Because as much as I believe in where I'm going, I'm also stepping away from something familiar, safe, and comfortable into something much bigger and far less certain.

So tonight, I'm trying not to rush myself past any of it.

I'm letting myself feel the sadness and the gratitude. The fear and the excitement. The loss of something deeply familiar alongside the possibility of what comes next.

This space has held the entirety of my career so far, but all of you are what gave those years meaning.

Tomorrow I begin moving into a space that I hope will hold the next part of our story.

And while I don't know exactly what that chapter will look like yet, I know I wouldn't be ready to write it without everything, and everyone, that brought me here.

So, to this little space that has been my professional home for more than eleven years, and to every person who has been part of my journey within it: Thank you.

Thank you for trusting me, teaching me, challenging me, growing with me, and supporting me along the way. I carry all of that with me now as I step out of the familiar and into whatever comes next.