Signed in as:
filler@godaddy.com
Reignite Energy into Vitality
MEET KIM
I’m a transformational health, wellness, and life coach.
But more than that, I’m a safe place. A soulful space.
A guide who sees beneath the surface.
I help people come home to themselves—to their vitality, their truth, and their God-designed ability to heal.
We start by slowing down, tuning in, and gently uncovering what’s been blocking the way—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
I’ve walked through my own healing journey—from stress and depletion to deep restoration—and I now walk with others on theirs.
With decades of experience, intuition, and a full toolbox of modalities at my fingertips, I meet people where they are and help them reconnect to whom they’ve always been.
MY JOURNEY
ROUTE 66: WHERE THE MAP TURNS SACRED
August 1, 2025
I’m sharing this story backwards, not to relive it — but to redeem it.
To walk you through the winding path that led me home to myself.
Every “re‑” word, every post, every pondering carries a fragment of my journey — a decade, a moment, a scar, a survival. Each one is a marker of becoming. And maybe, if you lean in close, you’ll find echoes of your own becoming too.
Today I can finally say, without flinching, without shrinking:
I’m here.
I’m whole.
I’m home.
The Mother Road Within
There’s something wild and poetic about turning 66.
Not in the age itself — but in the whisper beneath it.
They call it Route 66 — the Mother Road.
Once, it connected dreamers from Chicago to Santa Monica under endless skies and quiet deserts. But for me, Route 66 has never been just pavement and mile markers. It’s a soul‑road — a sacred invitation to remember not just where I’ve been, but who I’ve become along the way.
This isn’t a midlife crisis.
It’s a conscious re‑routing.
At 66, I finally gave myself permission:
- To speak the words I once swallowed.
- To reclaim the parts I abandoned to keep the peace.
- To stand rooted in presence instead of perfection.
The Roads Behind Me
It wasn’t always this way.
There were years when I doubted, I’d survive my own story.
Nights I cried into my pillow, praying to feel seen, heard, understood.
I poured grace into others yet struggled to offer even a drop to myself.
I’ve always been able to draw wisdom out of others — helping them move from confusion to clarity. But when it came to my own wounds? My walls were higher, my resistance louder.
Still, I stood my ground.
I lived my life with hope.
I never gave up.
Every fork in the road asked me again and again: Which way will you choose?
Safety had a cost.
Silence had a cost.
But claiming my truth came with the highest cost of all — and I paid it anyway.
The Sacred Stillness
Surprisingly, this year didn’t begin with fireworks.
It began with stillness.
A quiet, trembling clarity whispered within me:
“You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re right on time. Begin again — from here.”
And so, I began again.
I walk the figurative Mother Road now — not to trace old footsteps, but to honor every scar, every silence, every sacred survival.
Because healing isn’t always forward motion.
Sometimes, we have to glance back to gather courage for the next stretch of road.
Reframing the Journey
This is not nostalgia.
This is reclamation.
This is the sacred art of reframing my story.
My remembering has become a place of holy re‑membering — piecing myself back together, one truth, one grace, one breath at a time.
So let’s begin this soul trek together.
Backwards first. But only so we can move forward — tender, brave, and beautifully undone, re‑done, and reborn.
