About Mikki
I Have Traveled
This Way Before You
There comes a time in a woman’s life
when she arrives at a Crossroad.
She may not use the word regret lightly. But she can feel time moving, and something essential within her remains unlived, unnamed, or unclaimed.
She has spent decades being who she needed to be—for her family, her work, and the roles that shaped her and asked so much of her. She has been capable. Giving. Strong.
And yet, something in her knows there is more. Something older and deeper than the woman the world has known her to be. Something that has been waiting—patiently and persistently—for this season of her life.
She may be standing between who she has been and who she senses she is becoming, carrying inherited stories about age, possibility, purpose, and what she is still allowed to want.
Beneath those stories, she may be beginning to sense that what she has lived was not wasted. That her most purposeful chapter may not be behind her. That the Wise Woman within her has not disappeared.
The well is not dry, sister.
It was never dry.
It is holy.
And it was simply waiting for your return.
I Know This Woman
I know this woman because I have been this woman.
I know the Crossroad because I have stood there many times. I know what it is to feel uncertain, to wonder what comes next, and to sense that life is asking something new of me before I can fully name what it is.
And I know the fire because the fire has been shaping me from the beginning.
Born Into
the Fire
I stayed.
I listened.
I rose.
And now, I dance.
I was born into the fire.
Long before I had words for it, long before I had a choice in it, life was already asking things of me I did not yet know how to understand.
And the fire did not end with childhood.
It came in different forms, at different times, through the trials, hardships, losses, heartbreaks, choices, consequences, endings, and Crossroads of a life fully lived.
I did not choose every fire.
But I chose how I would meet it.
There were times I wanted out. Times I wanted the pain to stop. Times I wanted to turn away from what I knew I needed to face.
I learned to stay.
But I learned to stay—to stay when I wanted to run, to stay with myself, and to stay with the truth.
I learned to sit.
I learned to sit—to stop fighting long enough for the shift to occur, and to listen for what the fire was asking—and requiring—of me.
And I learned to rise.
And I learned to rise. To rise through the fire.
I chose to begin again. And to begin again.
Each time, something within me was healed, transformed, and awakened—long before I could see who I was becoming or understand what I was being prepared for.
Now I know.
I was being prepared for this very moment in time.
I Was Being Prepared
Everything I have lived, every choice I have made, every Crossroad where I have stood, and every fire through which I have been forged has brought me here.
Now, as I approach 70, I can see what I could not see while I was living it.
My life was forging me.
Forging me into the woman I am today.
Guardian of the Crossroad. Wayshower. Wise Elder Crone.
I am not too late. I have missed nothing. Now is my time.
I know what is mine to carry. I know the work that is mine to do. And I know why I am here.
I was born into the fire.
I have been forged through the fire.
And today, I rise as the fire.
I Will Not Ask You to Go Where I Have Been Unwilling to Go
For more than thirty-five years, I have walked beside people through addiction, recovery, grief, trauma, change, and the places that can feel impossible to enter. My work has taken many forms— counselor, mentor, teacher, coach, guide—but the heart of it has remained the same: to meet another human being with truth, compassion, and the willingness to stay present.
I have studied and practiced many ways of supporting healing and transformation, including breathwork, EFT, grief movement, sound, somatic awareness, recovery work, group facilitation, and movement as medicine. Yet my deepest authority does not come from a list of credentials.
It comes from what I have lived, what I have faced, what I have been willing to transform, and the many times I have chosen to begin again.
I have traveled this way before you. I will never ask you to enter a place I have been unwilling to enter myself. I will not stand above you or hurry you toward an answer. I will stand with you at the Crossroad, honor your sacred yes and your sacred no, and help you hear what your own heart and life are asking you to know.
You remain the authority of your own life.
My role is not to decide your way for you. It is to hold a clear and steady place where you can remember what has never truly left you, reclaim what belongs to you, and choose from a deeper place of truth.
I believe mature women are not becoming less relevant. We are being invited into a deeper relationship with our wisdom, our voice, our responsibility, and the life that still longs to be lived through us.
Eldership is not a title we claim because of age alone. Time and lived experience matter, but they are not enough by themselves. Eldership asks for willingness: the willingness to be transformed by what we have lived, to stand in truth, to see and hold more, and to place our wisdom in service to those who come after us.
This is the beginning of Eldership.
Come Sit With Me
If you are standing at a Crossroad, you do not need to know where the path will lead. You do not need to have everything figured out. And you do not need to become someone other than who you are.
You only need the willingness to begin where you are.
I have traveled this way before you. I know something of the terrain. And I would be honored to sit with you while you listen for what your life is asking now.
Come sit with me.
Let us begin at the Crossroad.