The Story Behind Dear Friends
I grew up in New York City, where you're often defined by what you achieve—not who you are.
So I did what I thought I was supposed to do.
I chased the career, the status, and the validation.
On paper, everything worked.
Inside, nothing did.
I wasn't living my life.
I was performing it.
For a long time, I stayed busy enough not to look too closely at that.
Eventually, I started asking different questions.
What can I create that actually means something?
How can I turn what I've lived through into something useful?
And where is God in all of this?
I began with meditation. I trained as a meditation coach and built tools to help people slow down, breathe, reflect, and become more present.
Meditation helped me see what was happening inside me. I could understand a pattern and still continue repeating it. I could become more conscious of my inner life while still feeling that something essential was missing.
Over time, prayer became more important to me. I began speaking to God more honestly—not with polished words or the language I thought I was supposed to use, but from wherever I actually was.
I also became more interested in the deeper parts of the inner life—the patterns we repeat, the things we hide from ourselves, the relationships that shape us, and the questions that don't always have easy answers.
That did not require me to abandon meditation or everything I had learned. It helped me understand that reflection, meditation, prayer, and stillness did not need to exist in separate parts of my life.
Meditation could help me see what was happening within me. Reflection could help me put words around it. Prayer could give me a place to speak honestly when I needed help.
Dear Friends grew from that combination.
These reflections, practices, and prayers weren't crafted in pristine silence. They were born from the chaos of real life.
They come from my own experiences, questions, struggles, and the practices that have helped me become more honest about what is happening within me.
These aren't answers.
They're offerings.
I appreciate you taking the time to listen to my story. The work I'm creating here comes from difficulties I still struggle to put into words. I know what it feels like to be lost, to live through family pain, and to be trapped in patterns I couldn't seem to change.
I haven't arrived at some final version of myself. I'm still on the path, just like you, and I hope that through Dear Friends, we can continue growing, healing, and finding our way through it together.
Have questions about Dear Friends? Read the FAQs.