The safest place I knew growing up was Osoha, a summer camp deep in the Northern Woods. My summers there, the structure, the diligence, and the laughter, anchored me in a sense of purpose that carried me through the year. At night, the loon’s low call soothed me to sleep. I didn’t know it then, but those summers would shape everything I am, and everything I would come to know about healing.

When a tragedy ended our time at Osoha, I lost more than a place, I lost my people, too. My path to recovery began there, in the grief and the loss, and the silence that followed.

Loona is the name I chose to reclaim a lost part of myself. I was not psychologically prepared to face the accident or the other losses in my life, so I internalized them instead. I withheld my voice, withdrew my presence, and, ultimately, isolated. I felt disconnected from myself and from others, and did everything I could to blur the lines in between. I was a master at hiding— hiding the truth of how alone I was.

Like the Loon’s mastery of their aquatic environment, this period of grieving taught me how to process my pain. And, like the Loon’s ability to also fly, my pain taught me the strength of who I was. I dared to hope and in my hope, I found a joy of equal proportion to the sadness I had come to know so well.

The Spirit of the Northern Waters, the Loon calls me back to the tranquility and hope of Osoha, a stillness I hope to give you here.

Whether you are navigating a challenging time or simply craving a deeper connection to yourself, I’d be so honored to walk with you for a while as you build a spiritual home within yourself.