I have had many turning points in my life, but the one that put me on the road to being a doula began in the middle of the journey of my life when death showed up as an advisor. Within a few years I lost my beloved animals (two dogs and two cats); my grandmother, who meant the world to me; and then my father and mother, who passed within three months of each other. Needless to say, I was completely devastated, and my grief spiraled out of control. I was in such despair I thought I may have to be hospitalized. The more I thought about it, the more the grief grew. Through a miraculous chain of events, which included chance meetings, long-forgotten and never-read books gifted to me, prayer, and meditation, I died. 

A new me was born—one I hardly recognized. I thought differently, I saw the world differently, I saw people differently than I had before. I loved. The walls and veneers I had always built up before due to pain were blown down, and I was one big marshmallow. What emerged out of that journey is Cornflower Illuminations.

I realized that there is something truly profound that happens as we journey into the unknown. I was able to companion each of my family members in ways I never thought possible. I saw firsthand the gaps that exist in how we approach death in our society and the lack of resources available or known for this most important journey. When I began the lengthy process of getting certified in these various disciplines, I had no idea how they were all going to fit together. It is in hindsight that I see how they integrate beautifully, and I am ever so grateful for that.

How long have you been doing this type of work?

I opened my doors to private practice in 2020 after having finished years of training in the various services I offer. I have been a hospice volunteer since 2018, and I have actively been doing this work without having the language or title as doula since 2011.

What type of environment do you work in?

I work in people’s homes, on Zoom, and sometimes in facilities. My clientele is worldwide, and the hats I wear for my business frequently run together or blend from one role into another. For example, I may be seeing someone for spiritual guidance when they are diagnosed with a terminal illness, so I begin to journey with them as both spiritual guide and end-of-life doula.

What do you do before you meet with a new client?

I pray and meditate before meeting with any client, new or established. I pray to get myself out of the way, and I ask to be shown how I may be of service. Then I spend time in silence centering myself and becoming in tune with the nature and the universe around me.

Can you share a short anecdote or insight that changed you?

I was always of the mind that as a professional, I had to “know” and be an expert. What I have learned is that if I set aside what I think I know, I can then have an open mind and a new experience with each of my clients. All of my clients are teachers, and if I’m not busy being the expert, I can be more present for them on their journey and more in alignment with the pulse of the universe. Intuition then speaks much louder; I can hear the client with curiosity and compassion.

Who has been one of your teachers or mentors?

It is difficult to narrow it to one when the world shows up as my teacher regularly. But I guess that books have always been my main teacher, and my go-to book for end-of-life doula work is The Soul Midwives’ Handbook by Felicity Warner.

What do you wish you had known when you started as a doula?

I wish I had known how disassociated and afraid our society is when it comes to the mere mention of death. I wish I had known what a diverse set of skills and approaches doulas have worldwide. I wish I had known that this is a calling best learned by experience.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow doulas?

Don’t worry about trying to do it perfect, say the right thing, do it right—just be present and listen. Get experience by journeying with people in as many different settings as you can with as many different types of people as you can until you find where you feel most natural and called to. Do a lot of pro bono work to get the experience; talk to friends and family.

What is your dream for your practice or doulas in general?

I really appreciate the question because it has made me stop and revisit my initial dreams, from when I started private practice, and to envision anew. In pausing to think of what I’m passionate about now and what I would do if I wasn’t afraid and knew I could not fail, I find that my dream has indeed altered a bit. 

I envision spending much of my time walking with people through the preparation phase of end of life—when the fear of the unknown is most prevalent. My passion is working with people as they come to accept that death, symbolically and physically, is an inevitable rite of passage. To walk with people as they explore their own belief systems facing the question of what happens to us after death. Witnessing as they explore who they are without the identities that have always defined them. Journeying with them as they look at the questions that emerge: Have I been loving? Where have I missed the mark? Is there anyone I need to forgive or ask forgiveness from? How does love and forgiveness, in turn, blossom out into the universe? 

I love to create ritual and ceremony to bring meaning to people’s experiences and decisions. I envision supporting them as they find their voice and make decisions about their end-of-life plan. I bring holistic modalities into my work as desired. In other words, I envision spending most of my time with people tending to the mental and spiritual journey at end of life, while bringing meaning to the journey through ritual, ceremony, and planning.  

I see myself doing plenty of shamanic energy medicine outside of end-of-life work, as it brings in a vital life force that brings harmony. I continue to see myself companioning others who are going through transition, retiring, or facing any kind of spiritual crisis.

My dream for doulas in general is for our work and presence to be a household norm.