One of my teachers, Rochel Goldbaum, once shared a profound insight:

How do you know if something is true?
When you see the same idea emerge in many unrelated areas of your life.

That resonated deeply with me.

I’ve always been an interdisciplinarian

interdisciplinarian /ĭn″tər-dĭs′ə-plə-nĕr″ē-an/

adjective

One who is applied to multiple distinct academic disciplines or fields of study.

I’m someone who doesn’t just study multiple fields, but weaves them together into something richer, deeper, more interconnected.

If I were a kid today, they might have labeled me ADHD. I love branching off in ten directions at once, chasing ideas, and then watching as all the streams flow back into the same great ocean.

This trait didn’t always serve me in traditional school systems. My love of learning was so stifled that for years, I didn’t pick up an intellectual book. That changed in August 2016. A book called to me, and I answered. I haven’t stopped since.

My life is infinitely richer for it.

People often ask what I do, what I’m into. And the honest answer? Everything.
And that’s exactly how I run my courses and trainings.

I attract seekers, deep divers, question-askers, and those who heed the call of their own curiosity. That’s where the best learning happens.

People ask what makes my training spaces different. The answer is simple: you do.

An immersive experience means the content isn’t just delivered, it’s co-created. We have a starting point, a destination, and everything in between is an adventure shaped by those in the room.

Training as a kallah teacher inspired me to reframe my understanding of mikvah. I once heard mikvah described it as a return to the womb, an immersion into the amniotic waters of creation itself, where even Hashem once hovered over the deep.

Mikvah is not just an action. It is a transformation.

To immerse is to emerge different; changed in a way that cannot be undone.

And that is exactly what breathwork facilitator training is. Not just a course, not just a tool, but an experience that alters you. A return to self, only deeper.

Fittingly, the subject of mikvah came up on the last day of our breath training.

Did you know that most people instinctively inhale before submerging?
And that inhaling makes our bodies fight to stay afloat?

But try exhaling before you slip beneath the surface.

Emptying your lungs, lowering your heart rate, clearing your mind.

Watch how the water welcomes you.
How the struggle ceases.
How you are received, held, embraced by the depths.

No one expected to find this insight in a breathwork training curriculum. And yet, there it was, surfacing at just the right moment, called forth by those willing to ask, seek, and listen for what emerged.

And when you rise? That first breath is something new.

It is a song.

The silent melody of creation.
The harmonic whisper of breath itself,
the original instrument of life.

A week before our last training module, I joined my friend Cookie’s poetry workshop. It was the perfect preparatory space to meditate on how I wanted to enter the upcoming training immersion. And when it was time to write, even though I hadn't written poetry in years, the words flowed effortlessly from my pen. Words I don’t recall thinking, only receiving.

You can listen to the poem by clicking here:
Of Gods and Men

This is the magic of breath.
The magic of opening yourself to more.

My artist friend, Rachel Fraida, was inspired by the poem and created a stunning visual rendering of its essence.

This painting is so much more than an art project or a poem.  It captures the essence of something richer, more mystical, meaningful

It captures the power that is available to us when we're willing to follow the call. 

The upcoming facilitator training is about so much more than breath.

It is an immersion.
A call from the depths.
An invitation to go beneath the surface and find your song.

On Monday, March 24, I’ll be hosting an invitation-only Zoom call for those on the waitlist.

If this speaks to you, make sure your name is on the list.

Applications will open for one week only—and those on the waitlist get the first dive.

Let the murmuring depths call you in.

Fally

* You'll have to wait another week for our name reveal ... hints be dropping tho!