I didn’t set out to become a spiritual guide. I set out to find my son.
In 2008, my 23-year-old son Bryan transitioned to Spirit. What followed was the longest, most disorienting, most sacred journey of my life. I lost myself in the grief for a while — not just the loss of Bryan, but the loss of who I thought I was, what I thought my life would be, who I thought I was becoming.
And then, slowly, something began to shift. It started with a ladybug. With hearing Bryan call out Mom — out loud, with my ears. With a series of experiences so undeniable that I couldn’t look away from them, couldn’t explain them away, couldn’t keep living as though they hadn’t happened.
Bryan was still there. Not in the form I knew. But there. And that changed everything.
The journey from that moment to this one has been the making of me. I am not the same person who sat in the wreckage of 2008.
Most mornings, I enjoy walking along the Boise River trail or on the Boise Foothills trails. I find moments to reflect, teach, and connect. I’ve sat with hundreds of people in their deepest pain — those who believed they would never feel joy again — and I’ve watched them rise up from the depths of their pain. Not because their pain vanished, but because they realized they were stronger than it was.
That rising is what this work is for.
Over these eighteen years of living through grief, my own and helping others on the journey, I’ve come to see that grief acts as a doorway—rather than the final stop. The true destination is reclaiming your joy, your purpose, and your connection to your soul. It’s about discovering the person you’re becoming.
This isn’t about skipping over grief or pretending everything is fine for others. It’s about recognizing that grief is a journey that flows through you — it doesn’t define who you are.
My work now embraces two communities, and I am devoted to both. One group includes those who have lost someone dear — a child, a partner, a parent, or even a part of themselves — and are curious to discover what lies beyond that loss. The other group consists of those who haven’t experienced profound loss themselves but still feel it deeply — a disconnection, a sense of living on the outskirts of their own lives, and an inner knowing that something more awaits.
Both are welcome here. The work is the same — a return to self, a reclamation of soul, a life lived from the inside out.
“I know, from the inside, that the other side of this is real. It’s not about losing grief or forgetting it. Instead, it’s about experiencing genuine joy that exists alongside sorrow, feeling a connection that goes beyond the veil, and recognizing a self that is bigger and more luminous than anything grief could ever reach. This is what I want for you.”
Read Paige’s story below