Hi, I’m Suzanne.
I’m a Certified Master Jungian Midlife Coach with an MA in Art History, devoted to tending the creative source that lives within each of us.
I believe midlife is a sacred threshold — a call to come back to yourself.
Through depth work, shadow integration, and creative practice, I help women release old patterns, reclaim their vitality, and awaken the voice that longs to be expressed.
When we reconnect with our creativity, a deep well of possibility opens up—and life begins to feel rich, vital, and alive again.
“For me there is only traveling on the paths that have a heart.”
Carlos Castaneda
My Creative Return
In my late thirties, I began to feel a restless ache. I was teaching art history online—grateful for the flexibility while raising my kids—but something essential was missing. I longed for deeper meaning—something that stirred my creativity and sense of purpose. Looking back, I can see it was the quiet beginning of a midlife reckoning.
That longing led me to organize a summer film festival and later to found a nonprofit art gallery. I loved curating exhibitions, hosting events, and offering space for artists to share their work.
Still, I was performing—exhausted and more concerned with how things looked than how they felt.
I clung to a stable job even though it no longer inspired me, telling myself I was lucky to have the flexibility, when deep down, I knew I didn’t want to do it anymore.
Then everything changed: in my forties my mother was diagnosed with ALS. Caring for her through her illness and death brought into clear focus how sacred—and how fleeting—this life is.
I knew I couldn’t keep postponing what really mattered.
Around that time, I began to seriously consider becoming a life coach. It was something I’d circled for years—drawn to deep conversations, inner work, and questions of meaning and purpose. I’d attended retreats, filled my shelves with books on psychology and spirituality, and spent nearly a decade working with a spiritual teacher on a psycho-spiritual path of awakening.
I enrolled in a Jungian coach training that wove together depth psychology and Eastern spirituality—a perfect synthesis of everything I’d been seeking. Jung’s vision of midlife as a turning point—a call to wholeness—put everything I’d been feeling into context. I realized the ache I’d been carrying was a sacred invitation.
The ache I’d been carrying was a sacred invitation.
Through this work, I discovered powerful tools for healing and transformation—symbol, image, active imagination, shadow integration, and the inner archetypes that shape our lives.
This rich fusion of creativity and spirituality brought everything together in a way that felt authentic, alive, and true to who I am.
And I’ve loved how engaging in this work echoes the legacy of my father, who recently passed.
He was a professor of religious studies and taught a beloved course called The Inner Journey, rooted in the work of Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell. He used experiential tools like active imagination to help his students connect with their inner world and access their own sense of vitality and wholeness.
Not long before he died, we reflected on how aligned our paths had become and said:
You came to a similar path by asking your own questions.
His words carried deep appreciation and respect—for both the legacy he shared and the life I’ve claimed as my own.
I feel honored to carry this work forward—not only as my calling, but as a way of honoring his.
My past experiences—studying art, and supporting artists, being a spiritual seeker—have found a new home in this framework.
This path has transformed me in ways I never could have imagined.
I’m no longer driven by the need to prove or held back by fear.
I’ve found a grounded clarity, a growing trust in myself, and a sense of untapped potential I hadn’t known was there.
I’ve reclaimed my voice, my energy, and my sense of purpose.
And now I help others do the same.
Are you ready to begin your return?
Join the waitlist and step into a sacred circle of women reclaiming their voice, vitality, and wholeness.