They say that in nature, the most vibrant life happens at the edges—the places where the forest meets the meadow, or the sea meets the shore. This is the "edge," a zone of tension, transition, and immense fertility.

I have spent my life moving toward those edges.

My path has never been a straight line. It has been a series of bridges built between worlds that rarely speak the same language. I have sat in corporate boardrooms in the tech industry, leading teams and managing complex projects through the lens of logic and efficiency. I have also sat in the quiet halls of graduate study, earning a degree in divinity to understand the deeper nature of the human soul.

I have inhabited the space between the religious and the secular, founding and leading Not Church—a gathering for the "spiritual but not religious" that caught the attention of TIME magazine because it spoke to a hunger that traditional structures couldn't satisfy.

For over twenty years, I have navigated the world as a writer and photographer, learning that the best stories are rarely found in the center, but at the periphery, where new perspectives take root.

Whether I am out in the garden or with my horses, the rules are the same. A horse doesn't care about your degrees or your corporate experience. They just know if you are present with them right now. They force you to find your own center, because you can't fake confidence when you're sitting in the saddle.

I am someone who has dipped into many different streams and learned how to draw connections between them. My work is about cross-pollination: bringing the systems-thinking of tech to the expansiveness of spirituality, and the groundedness of ranch life to the fast-paced world of leadership.

I help people look toward their own "edges"—those places of transition where they feel the most tension—and find the vibrancy hidden there.