My Work
I work with symbols—dreams, tarot, memory fragments—threads that seem small but tug at something ancient and deeply personal.
Sometimes, these messages arrive in the cards.
Sometimes, they arrive in dreams.
And sometimes… they sit quietly in the background of our lives until one day, they ask to be seen.
This story began with a passing glance at a forgotten object.
And then—like so many symbols do—it opened a door.
The Doll, the Beads, and the Dream
I wasn’t thinking about the doll when I passed by. It has always been there—my grandmother’s doll from around 1915, a quiet fixture of the past.
I’ve seen it countless times, sitting still, holding its place in history.
Around its neck hangs a string of teething beads—a baby gift once given to my mother.
But something about today was different.
My eyes caught the beads, and in that instant, a dream I hadn’t remembered came rushing back.
The Dream
The night before, I dreamed of the beads.
They looked identical to my mother’s.
But they weren’t hers.
And they weren’t mine.
A stranger wore them—as if they had always belonged to her.
I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t even confused.
I was curious.
How did she have them?
Where did they come from?
And the question that echoed through me:
Who tied the knot?
Memory in the Fibers
These beads fascinate me.
They bear the pockmarks of age, the imprint of tiny teeth, and the residue of time.
They’ve never truly been cleaned.
They hold the DNA of everyone who’s ever touched them—not just the babies who gnawed on them for comfort, but the hands that strung them, the fingers that tied the knot.
And that’s what lingers in my mind the most:
Who tied the knot?
Long before I was born,
someone took these beads
and looped a string through them.
They knotted them together—not just for use,
but to last.
Through pain.
Through generations.
Through hands that would never meet.
Made for Survival
These beads weren’t made for beauty.
They were made for gnawing.
For relief.
For enduring pain until something stronger came through.
Because that’s the purpose of teething, isn’t it?
To push through the ache.
To break through the gums of what once was.
To emerge with something sharp enough to bite into the world.
Growth Is Painful
Transformation doesn’t arrive gently.
We chew through the ache—again and again—until we have the teeth to claim what’s ours.
Maybe that’s why the beads appeared in my dream.
Maybe the message wasn’t about ownership.
Maybe it was about endurance.
The Beads Are a Reminder
The things we believe are uniquely ours are often part of something bigger.
Pain is not just suffering.
It is a passage.
A rite of emergence.
What we chew on and gnaw through isn’t just about surviving—it’s about becoming.
Who Tied the Knot?
Maybe this dream was a reminder that memory doesn’t just live in stories.
It lives in objects, fibers, and knots that hold us together long after the hands that tied them are gone.
And maybe—just maybe—
we are connected in ways we’ve yet to understand.
If this reflection stirred something in you—
If you’ve been carrying inherited pain, unexpected dreams, or questions that seem to echo from somewhere deeper, you’re not alone. This is the heart of what I offer: a space to explore the symbols that rise from within, the quiet threads that connect us to our past, and the meaning that waits to be uncovered in dreams and waking life.
If you're curious about what your dreams are trying to tell you or ready to untangle what’s been handed down, I invite you to explore a Dream Symbol Consultation. Sometimes, the knot is already there. We just have to find where to begin.
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