About the Book

Resilient is a collection of all the things I should have told you sooner, but didn't know how.

Leaving home at 13 was the best thing that ever happened for my professional career, but you won't see the housekeeper, busser, or ranch hand jobs on my resume that were the true architects of my work ethic. It made me more resourceful when I dropped out of high school to work two jobs and move my mom to Oregon, but I would never tell you about all the Top Ramen I ate in a helper's cabin by myself, or about all the duct tape I used to hold my life together.

Resilient is my extended hand. It is an invitation to see the world through my eyes, and either burn the book, or walk with me through the through the trauma, joy, addiction, awe, love, and loss that shaped the person I am today. Most importantly, it is an invitation to celebrate healing, and honor the Universe that is constantly conspiring on our behalf.

Defined by rich sensory detail and unflinching honesty, Resilient shares my struggle to break free from generational cycles, and to examine the thinking and behavioral patterns that threatened to take my life. My perspective as an architectural photographer and visual artist infuses the work: places, light, and tactile details provide an immersive reading experience.

When I was finally ready to do the work of getting sober after a 15 year struggle with alcohol addiction, I took an unconventional approach to recovery. I blended traditional tools like AA and therapy, with creative healing practices, art, and the intentional use of psilocybin. Instead of a linear path, Resilient explores how meditation, painting, community, and nature together forged new neural pathways for lasting change. I offer readers a nuanced portrait of recovery that defies convention, while honoring the complexity of healing.

I wrote the first draft of this manuscript over the course of a feverish six weeks. It came on with the vengance of the stomach flu. I wasn't writing–I was purging. It started out as all poetry because I wasn't ready to unpack all the trauma at once. Poetry allowed me to distill events to their purest form–how I felt, what I saw, smelled, and heard–without providing the contextual details that told the whole story. In a way, I was still resisting telling you the truth about what happened.

Early in the writing process, my dear friend and author, Ken Streater, suggested I expand on some of the poems that required further explanation in order for the story to flow. Once I did for a few, I realized how many critical details I had been leaving out of the poetry. The book took shape when I stepped back and allowed the story to tell itself. The few poems that remain are from the heart, and just like the rest of the book, don't hold anything back.

This story is for you. The one who grew up too early, the one who loves an addict, the alcoholic who can't seem to get their shit together, the psilocybin curious, the friend who thought they knew me–and is willing to give me grace for the secrets I kept for so long.