The Beginnings of Weird to the Wise

I never planned to build Weird to the Wise. It wasn’t something I dreamed up at a desk or mapped out in a journal. It was born in the raw, disorienting landscape of grief.

After my sister died, the ground beneath me shifted. There were no signposts, no directions for how to keep going. I started seeing a counselor named Dylan. At first, I thought I was just seeking therapy—but what I found went far beyond anything clinical.

I call it un-therapy now, because that’s what it feels like: not fixing, not analyzing, but simply being—with the grief, with the mystery, with the inexplicable things that kept unfolding.

Dylan walked with me through some of the darkest chapters—Lori’s brain surgery, and later, the unbearable loss of my niece Abby to suicide. These weren’t just life events. They were ruptures. And somehow, in the cracks those ruptures created, something else began to come through.

This is a space where grief and spirit move together. Where healing can happen across dimensions. Where silence doesn’t feel empty—but awake.

Weird to the Wise is the home I’m building to hold these stories. The ones rooted in this world, and the ones whispered through the veil. It’s a space for the in-between—for the moments that crack us open and let the light in.

Eventually, I hope to link Dylan’s site with mine, as our threads continue to braid together.

This isn’t just the beginning of a website.
It’s the beginning of a way of being.
A way of listening.
A way of remembering that we’re never truly alone.