Kegels and Coffee

Born in Scotland, Angie Seckinger spent her childhood moving a lot all over the globe, from Pakistan, Columbia, Chile and Guatemala to Arizona, Washington DC, Maryland and Germany. Her dad was a foreign service officer and her life was never boring. Angie has been an artist and professional photographer for 40 years. I met her through my husband Pata when I first came to Cornudella in 2014. At the time, she was still living the double life, hustling as a well established photographer in the US, and spending her winters on her quiet piece of property tucked up against the Montsant. We have spent hours talking on her deck. Every time her insights resonate and I walk away inspired. Angie seems to always get me and understand my process. In this recording, we talk about feeling stuck, the cycles of life, the creative process and the importance of stopping. Angie also shares how she learned what ‘having enough’ means to her. In her own words: “Today, I am retired and living my best, peaceful life”.

When I first moved to Spain late last summer, I expected to jump straight into my new job at a local winery, guiding tourists and explaining the history of Priorat. I had prepared and studied for the position, but when I arrived the job fell through. Disheartened at first, I then welcomed the unplanned break I was given and realized how much I needed to just stop. After two years of moving things from one storage unit to another, from the US to Spain and finishing our house here, I felt tired, directionless and empty of any sort of inspiration. For a week or so I mostly slept. Then, little by little, I started picking up the pieces and slowly putting my life back together here in Cornudella de Montsant. With this very first solo episode, I would like to give a glimpse into my life here and what inspired me to start recording again. 

We recorded this episode with Laura Jolley late last summer. I had found her yoga class in Grand Junction shortly after moving there and it changed the entire experience of a difficult phase of my life. With deep stretches and breath work, Laura helped me sink into emotional layers beneath all the chaos. I always walked away feeling relieved and more grounded. This conversation is a great reminder that even when I think calmer waters are just around the corner, life continues to bring challenges, just different ones. And taking time for myself, whether three minutes or an hour, is not just appropriate, but actually necessary. During this episode, Laura actually guides us through a short meditation. It’s amazing what closing your eyes and breathing can do. 

We talk about how Yoga found her at age four, the pros and cons of in-class yoga versus hitting play on your phone, how empowering it feels to realize that we are actually in charge of our own happiness, and all the different ways and expressions of self-care, a widely used term that has become so cliche, and also a thread throughout my episodes. We so often live in the past or the future, trying to plan ahead, re-analyzing what happened, could have happened or should have happened. Ironically, all we really have is the present moment: Now. So how do we find the balance between being present and still functioning in society? Yoga is one method that brings us back into the body and the moment. But no matter what the practice, bottom line, when we slow down we stay in touch with ourselves and can learn how to fill our cup. 

To learn more about Laura please visit https://www.laurajolley.com/

If you happen to live in the Western Slopes, I highly recommend checking out her class at https://www.yogavstudio.com/home

Laura’s recommendations for online yoga platforms:

https://yogauonline.com/

https://www.glo.com/

https://yogainternational.com/

Christie Blackmon grew up in northeast Ohio. She studied marketing and psychology at Kent State University and started climbing in her twenties. Her new passion led her to travel throughout the US, Mexico, Thailand and Spain and eventually settle in Colorado, where we met. 

Though there have been stretches in our lives without seeing each other, last summer we spent a lot of time together in Grand Junction. Training at the gym was merely an excuse to talk for hours about all the things and with no filters. Christie feels like an older sister to me. I admire her, the life she has created with her family, the way she approaches climbing, how she treats her daughter Marissa and her relationship with her sweet husband, Michael. 

Christie sent the Path (5.13c in Rifle Canyon) at age 44, one year after giving birth to Marissa. At the time this was her hardest route. Then, at age 48, she did Magnatar and Tomb Raider, also in Rifle, both 5.13ds. Her family has spent a lot of time in Spain where we got to climb with them and also meet her incredible mom, Joni. Sadly, she passed away not too long ago, but thankfully within the comfort of Christie’s own home. 

It took time for Christie to be ready to speak about her mom’s death on my podcast. And when she was, she said: “I thought about what my mom would say, and she would have told me to do it”. Christie and I talk about things that probably most of us try not to think about: aging, death and losing a loved one. Topics that occupy many of our minds (whether consciously or not) but are hard, scary, yet inevitable. My dad is turning 80 this year. He is strong, his mind fresh, young at heart and his memory incredible. But the fact is, he is getting older. 

My parents make jokes about how they are the ‘next ones on the line’. I get upset when they talk like that. But I guess for them it’s one way of dealing with the fact that they have lost a lot of friends their age and younger. Sometimes, it can feel as though death is just around the corner, waiting to take them away from me. Each time I get to see them is becoming more and more precious.

I don’t think anyone can prepare us for the moment we have to let go of someone we love so deeply. But sharing our stories helps us remember that we are not alone. No one is exempt from losing someone close. And though we will always miss them, with time, the pain becomes less.

IF YOU ARE CURIOUS WHY MY PODCAST IS CALLED ‘KEGELS AND COFFEE’ THIS EPISODE HAS THE ANSWER FOR YOU! 

Susan Vachon and I go way back to the California days. She danced for my company in 2009 and has been a friend for longer than that. Susan grew up in suburban New York. After completing her Masters degree in Health Science she became a Physician Assistant and made her way to the west coast where she felt more at home in the outdoor world. But this conversation is not about climbing or skiing, rather working less and sleeping more. Ironically, when we recorded this episode Susan had just thrown her back out after going full force for too long. We talk about:

We talk about:

• Sleep, or better, the lack of 💤
• How to create a cozy nest to rest 🛏️
• Why to keep it dark at night 🕶️
• Susan’s childhood terror of aliens grabbing her feet from under the bed 👽
• How at 4am our thoughts are totally out of control 🤯
• When we don’t stop, our bodies will make us 🛑
• What we would tell our 27-year old selves 👯
• Stepping out of the work life rat race 🐀

Janet Tsai grew up in Colorado and with parents from Taiwan always was a minority within the white world of the Front Range. In our conversation we talked about what it felt like to grow up in Fort Collins, where classmates mistook her adopted friends from Korea as her siblings, her older sister’s nickname was ‘the brain’ and hers ‘the little brain’. Janet knows what it means to be an outsider not only in the US but also in China. Becoming part of the robotics team during high school eventually led to her first job right out of college: Roomba, maker of the first robotic vacuum cleaner, asked her to move to Hong Kong to be the liaison between American design engineers and Chinese manufacturing engineers for the newest Roomba design. In our conversation, Janet shares outrageous experiences of gender discrimination and harassment during her time in China. When she returned to the US, she became a teaching professor in the department of Mechanical Engineering at the University of Colorado Boulder. In this role, she advocates for women and students from marginalized groups to pursue interests related to engineering and technology. She has tried to use her own experiences of gender and race discrimination and harassment in engineering as motivation to keep going, and inspiration to show younger students that things can be different. In her own words: “Being an engineer is a fun way to see the world, but I wish a lot of times that we connected more to the world.”

To learn more about Janet please visit:

http://www.janetytsai.com/

https://www.colorado.edu/engineering-facultystaff/janet-tsai

Colette McInerney grew up in Nashville, Tennessee. She fell in love with rock climbing, and the lifestyle that came with it, while she was in college. Colette is a talented climber and has a magic touch when it comes to capturing moments with her lens. She has filmed for National Geographic and in 2020 released her first feature length film with Never Not Collection called Pretty Strong. Climbing, film and photography have taken her to many places, including Europe. We talked about how going to Spain always reminds us to slow down, and how our gung-ho American approach doesn't really work there. We talked about how hard it is to be a minimalist when you really love shoes and how the constant moving around can feel chaotic. Having all of our stuff in one place sounds pretty nice right now. We also talked about listening to our bodies, learning to trust our own intuition and the consequences of ignoring a full-body NO.

To learn more about Colette, check out the links below:

http://coletteloc.com

https://www.nevernotcollective.com

https://www.blackdiamondequipment.com/en_US/athletes/colette-mcinerney/

Welcome back to Kegels and Coffee! I am excited to start off with the one and only Steven Dimmitt, host of The Nugget Climbing Podcast. Known as a passionate rock climber who interviews world-class rock climbers and coaches, bringing us new insights, the latest training trends and life wisdom, Steven in my conversation shared a vulnerable side and a recent story that was a bit of a wakeup call: His first ever panic attack. We talked about what led up to this moment, the pressure we put on ourselves hosting our own podcasts, the ‘resistance’ that any creator bumps up against (in our case editing block) and how to stay sane while still getting the work done. His show has reached over 1M downloads and has quickly become one of the top climbing podcasts in the world. You can learn more about Steven at thenuggetclimbing.com

I got back to the US on May 27th, three days after the Uvalde Texas school shooting where 21 children and teachers died. Five days later, four more people were killed in the hospital shooting in Tulsa Oklahoma. At that point, we had had 223 shootings in the US just in 2022. Since the 4th of July shootings, this number has crept up to 314.

Just a couple days after I returned to Colorado, I met Julianne Nagy in the yoga studio at the climbing gym. I was seeking a quiet place and some peace, so was she. Our chat quickly became deeper and I  shared my sadness around the recent shootings. Julianne brought a new perspective, encouraging me to look beyond my fear and anger. She recognizes the need for gun laws to change, and also, being a yoga instructor, reiki practitioner, and heart centered facilitator, comes from a more spiritual background. One of the things she said that stood out to me was: “The amount of suffering that is happening in this world is a direct reflection of our inner turmoil.” 

I am neither a politician nor a gun law expert. I do know that in 2016, the National Rifle Association spent more than $50 million dollars to back Donald Trump and several Republican Senate candidates. But this episode is not a political debate on gun law. It’s an honest reflection on how gun violence in the US is affecting me. 

I love the US very much and for many reasons. The land, the people, my family. I spent summers growing up with my grandparents in Montana and when I moved to California at age nineteen, I immediately felt welcomed. I have experienced how this country is based on innovation and self-motivation. It truly has been, for me, a land of possibilities. I mean, I own a school bus with a climbing wall attached to the side of it that my dance troupe performs on. And I have driven this bus through the most breathtaking landscapes, past desert towers, through canyonlands, mountains and vast plains. The US has so much to offer, and it just makes me sad to see innocent people die when it can seem so evitable, if only the right decisions were made. 

Dasha Kan was born in Ufa (Urals), Russia. Growing up, she spent a lot of time with her grandparents. Dasha fell in love with rock climbing at age nine and won four world youth championships in speed climbing. She moved to Tyumen, Siberia to go to University and continued training with her coach at a local gym. Dasha received a Bachelor's Degree in Engineering and Geology but soon got into organizing events, working for sport agencies. Before leaving Russia, she was based out of Moscow. 

Today Dasha is twenty-three years old and we met in Rodellar, Spain through my friend Ciara. While doing yoga in the sun, she began telling me the story of how she had recently left Russia. And on our drive back to Cornudella the next day our talk continued. While trying to process the intense stories Dasha was sharing, I couldn’t help but wonder whether she would be open to recording with me. I was hesitant to ask, but knew I would regret it if I didn’t. She instantly said yes. “I would love to. Thank you for giving me a voice.” 

Not too long after the war had started, international companies pulled out of Russia. The snowboarding competition Dasha was helping organize was postponed until further notice. She lost her job. In the meantime, people who were speaking up against the war on Instagram or going to demonstrations were being arrested for acting as “foreign agents”. Dasha’s desire to leave Russia grew, but she also knew that this would mean abandoning her country and becoming a traitor to those who supported Putin. “This regime that Putin built is really insane. It works and people are scared. And they are not safe, so they can’t really do anything. But I couldn't stay in the country with so many crazy people around, like zombies, brainwashed,” she says. “You try not to talk about political stuff with those you know support the war, because you don’t want to lose your friends. But then when everybody knows your opinion you get separated. It felt very wrong to be inside the country that started the war.” 

After jumping through many logistical loops in order to be allowed to leave Russia, Dasha finally made it over the border to Estonia on April 4th, 2022. She felt great relief, but was also terrified. “I found myself at a point where I didn’t understand what I was feeling honestly,” she says.

The support of the climbing community has played a huge role in her transition to Europe. “I was getting a lot of support from everywhere in the world and I was actually shocked about this because I’m Russian and it’s my country that started the war and is killing innocent people”. Some of her closest climbing friends who have helped her through this transition are from Ukraine. Despite the war, their bonds are stronger than ever. “The paradox of war is that the ugliest experiences can bring the most beautiful things to your life, human connection beyond all else,” Dasha explains. 

The gratitude she feels toward the climbing community is immense. Yet again, this particular group of people that many of us call family, amazes me with the love, support and immediate feeling of home it offers. And we climbers know, moving on rock is much more to us than just a sport. It is therapy, it is a way back home. “If I find myself climbing well on the wall again, I will find myself again as a human, not just as a climber. Climbing will help me find the pieces of myself that I have lost”, Dasha shares. But it is hard to let go of the deep seated guilt and shame she feels. “Every day I am working on this and try to detach myself from the blame and shame my country brought.” 

Florian Friedel (aka ‘Flo’) was born and raised in Pforzheim, Germany. Flo started working as a programmer running cnc-machines when he was twenty years old, the same year he fell in love with rock climbing. But three years later, he felt trapped in a job that gave him little freedom to travel and climb. With some hesitation, but knowing this is what he needed, Flo quit his job in order to go on a six months climbing trip. He discovered a lifestyle that he didn’t know existed before. He bought a van, drove to Spain and spent the entire winter climbing around Cornudella de Montsant. Six months turned into eight years. During this time, Flo learned that he could live with a lot less than he had thought. “You have to allow yourself to be flexible enough in your mind to change your life according to your needs.”

Today, thirty-three years old, Flo owns a piece of land outside of Cornudella where he has built a 430SF home off-grid. He spends summers working in Germany building climbing walls and enjoys a simple life on his land the rest of the year. Flo collects rainwater, runs solar panels and enjoys his daily chores. “Land comes with maintenance, but it is work for yourself, for your life and not for money, so I don’t question it. In the end it’s the little things that make you happy.”

I walked away from our conversation feeling inspired by the life Flo has created for himself. Sometimes less is more. It allows us to connect with ourselves, our community and the land we live on. Cornudella is very special in that way, its tight-knit community feels like family. Some of the happiest people I know here have very little. For me, it’s a good reminder to keep evaluating what actually makes me happy and “stay flexible in my mind” while I take my next steps. 

Sarah Dao was born and raised in Berlin, Germany. Her father is from Vietnam, her mother is German. Sarah started climbing at the age of fourteen and since then has only taken two non-climbing vacations. She has the luxury of working remotely for a software tech company as a consultant and lives with her partner Manu, who is from Argentina, half of the year in Berlin and spends the other six months in Cornudella de Montsant, Spain, where I met her. In Berlin she enjoys her family and friends and is a fanatic Elbsandstein climber. We have been friends for almost eight years and Sarah has made my experience of living in Cornudella very special. There is something to be said about having another person live in this village who understands my background, speaks my mother tongue and also shares that dry German humor. 

Sarah and I have spent many years contemplating the baby topic as we, until this day, both share the same sentiment: We don’t have the desire to have children. Starting in her early thirties, this feeling tormented her for many years. In Sarah’s own words, she felt like she was on a ridge, one steep slope symbolizing the fear of pregnancy and sacrificing her life for children, the other side of the ridge representing the decision not to have children, but regretting it later in life. She took the decision very seriously and started reading books, doing research and talking to those around her who were deciding to have a family. Today Sarah is forty-one years old and feels at peace with the decision not to have children. 

In our conversation she tells us the story of her long and involved journey of coming to terms with her initial intuition that she felt from the beginning. I appreciate Sarah’s raw and sometimes outrageous approach to her decision making process and the ‘pro and con list’ she came up with. Though her comments on the disadvantages of having children can seem harsh, I value her rational and honest approach. The intention of this episode is not to offend those who have decided to have children, but rather support the women who perhaps do not have the desire or simply feel lost, insecure and alone in their own decision making process. I would like to remind them that they are not alone and encourage them to listen deep inside while making one of the most important decisions in their lives. 

Wendy Dijs was born in 1979 in Leeuwarden, Netherlands. Her parents were both artists and lived a very comfortable life in a country that was democratic, took good care of its citizens and also supported the arts. She was only five years old, when her family decided to go on an adventure and take a trip to the Pyrenees. After crossing France, Wendy’s parents saw a tiny village in the distance and decided to try and get there on foot. They parked their car and told her they would be back in an hour. But having grown up in the Netherlands, their concept of distance worked in straight lines, not valleys and mountains. By the time they got back to the car, hours had passed. Meanwhile, Wendy had decided to have her own adventure and had scrambled onto a cliff to watch the sunset. Little did she know that this small abandoned village her parents had just discovered in the foothills of the Spanish Pyrenees, would soon become her home.  

Unprepared for the mountains and with the notion that ‘it is always warm in Spain’, her parents picked up and left the comfortable Netherlands to move to Tercui. Their first winter was spent burning their own furniture and doors in order to stay warm. A local shepherd felt pity for them and gave Wendy’s family permission to use a large dead tree on his property. Despite the initial challenges, Wendy has beautiful memories playing in the snow, roaming around the mountains and feeling a sense of freedom and peace that shaped her life. The deep silence of this tiny abandoned village taught her at a young age to be with herself. Wendy describes her childhood as ‘serene’. 

Originally, her parents had planned on staying in Tercui for one year. It was like an experiment. They wanted to isolate themselves, focus on their art and live in the mountains. By the time they were finally established, it made sense to stay longer. One year turned into two years, two years into three years, and three years into eleven years. Occasional trips to the Netherlands to visit friends and family, bring back books and records helped break up long stretches of being isolated. But being isolated also forced Wendy’s parents to be with themselves and each other without any distractions. They started having more fights and their relationship eventually grew apart. At age eleven, Wendy and her mom moved to Reus in Tarragona, a coastal town with lots of life, diversity and opportunities. She made new friends, learned new languages and, at age twenty-four, traveled to India. Today, Wendy and her boyfriend live in Barcelona. She has a degree in Social Education and currently works with teenagers who struggle with the formal educational systems.

Madaleine Sorkin travels to climb long, difficult rock walls from the Rockies to Yosemite where she has freed up to 5.13+ on El Capitan and the Diamond on Longs Peak. She has completed first free ascents as far as Kyrgyzstan, Patagonia and Jordan. Increasingly a self-described homebody, Madeleine and her wife live in an off-grid home near the Black Canyon National Park in Colorado. She still pushes her own performance edge and enjoys coaching other climbers to do the same. 

In 2018, impacted by climbing-related tragedies in her community, Madaleine founded The Climbing Grief Fund (CGF) in partnership with the American Alpine Club. CGF works to evolve the conversation around grief in the climbing community and connect individuals to effective mental health professionals and resources.  For more information, please visit: https://americanalpineclub.org/grieffund

I have known Madaleine since I moved to Colorado in 2011. I have always appreciated her calm energy and also knew there was a V8 engine hiding beneath that mellow vibe. She wouldn’t do what she does, without fire and drive. This is what has inspired more than one conversation between the two of us. Relating to her stories and experiences has helped me understand my own relationship with ambition and the meaning of success.  

For Madaleine, the drive to achieve crept up on here during her 20s. For a while, her passion for climbing led her to be less selective about who she would partner up with, as long as she could get on the route she was psyched on. At age twenty-four, a pretty severe rappelling accident that almost cost Madaleine her life, changed her perspective. Today at thirty-nine years old, she poses a question that inquires about her intentions, goals and reasons for doing something, whether in climbing or other areas of her life: “What am I up to?”. This allows Madaleine to check in with herself before getting on a long hard route, making sure the timing, partner and weather feel adequate. 

The urge to push her performance edge continues to bring great moments of success as well as feelings of ‘not doing enough’. She likes to call this ‘Failure Dysphoria’. On days, where Failure Dysphoria is turned up, it’s almost impossible to be productive. In our conversation, we dive deep into all the lessons, tools and ways we have both learned to be kind to ourselves, go into our bodies and out of our minds. For Madaleine, the experience of listening to herself and doing what she needs to do (and that might be calling it a day at the crag and pulling out her journal) is really helpful in building the relationship she wants to have with herself, her partner and her work. 

Cayden Eldridge grew up on the East Coast, just outside Washington, DC. He was raised by a Chilean mother and an American father. Annual visits to Chile where he spent time with his nine aunts and uncles and thirty-five first cousins made a huge impact on his life. Today Cayden lives in Lafayette, CO and works in IT. He has just come out of an eight year relationship and for the first time is exploring life as a single man. 

I got to know Cayden during the Boulder County fires in December of 2021. He was my downstairs neighbor and I was the only one living at my friend Laura’s house. We spent hours together on the sofa, waiting to be evacuated. During these endless hours, we bonded and talked about life and love, soon realizing how similar our relationship dynamics were. 

Just like my husband Pata, Cayden was raised in a very traditional latino way. His mother catered to him. His ex-partner Betty and I, on the other hand, were raised to be independent and take on chores at a very young age. Pata and Cayden bring a calm and grounded energy. They can go with the flow, get things done in their own way and are not hard on themselves or us. Betty and I are a bit more like fire. We love our independence, prefer to be in control and need our alone time. While perfectionism can drive us (at times to insanity), this word does not really exist in their vocabulary. 

Opposites attract and can bring so much beauty and growth, they can also create challenges. Sharing stories and moments about our relationships, helped us both understand ‘the other side’ without the charged emotion that can weigh on a romantic relationship. Any loving and passionate partnership will be work. And communication is the only way through. The trick is finding the right words and the right time. 

“Humans aren’t easy.”

Emily Korth is an artist and climber who has spent the greater part of a decade living out of vehicles and traveling in pursuit of fulfillment. You can most likely find her climbing in Rifle Canyon, hiking in the Colorado Rockies, or dancing by a fire. Emily has a BFA in Ceramics and photography and is a very talented artist. Check out her art @bkcompositions 

We spent a lot of time camping and climbing together in Rifle Canyon in the summer of 2021. During this time we became close friends. Emily can be hard to get a hold of, identifies herself as an introvert and finds joy in solitude. She is one of the women in my life who have taught me to tap into my needs and be more unapologetic. One thing I truly appreciate about our friendship is that we can allow each to be who we are without any feeling of guilt. Sometimes people mistake selfcare for being selfish or inconsiderate, when really selfcare is the best thing we can do to nurture ourselves and our relationships. This is how we fill our tank and are able to give back. 

In our conversation, we talk about the discomfort that can come along with being alone, the challenges of being an introvert versus an extrovert and how every person’s needs are different when finding that perfect in between. Wouldn’t it be nice if we never felt like we had to explain ourselves when leaving a party, not joining a family reunion or saying ‘No’ to something that does not feel right? It takes trust to do what we need to do without feeling guilt or shame. 

We best know our needs. But in order to listen, we first must hear, and that requires stillness. 

So: When in doubt, do nothing.

Klaas Willems was born in 1986 in Leuven, Belgium with a genetic lung and digestive disease called Cystic Fibrosis. CF causes severe damage to the lungs, digestive system and other organs in the body.

One of the first things the doctors told Klaas when he was a little boy was that he wasn’t going to live long. 
Since then he has been told more than once that he has no more than six years to live. In the meantime, Klaas discovered rock climbing: A sport that not only helped him strengthen his lungs but also gave him purpose and drive.  

In the summer of 2012 he climbed “La traversée de la Meije 3983m” in The Massif des Ecrins in France. It was his father’s third attempt to climb his dream mountain. This time Klaas  joined him for a father/son ascent, like the first ascent done by Gaspard de la Meije with his son Pierre in 1877. Klaas and his father reached the summit, however, on the descent things did not go according to plan. But Klaas was determined that this was not the way he was going to go. The way he told this story made me laugh a lot. But it also brought tears to my eyes, for many different reasons. When I asked how he reacted to his dad crying once they had made it back to the hut, he answered: “I guess because of  my health issues, I have not always been very open to show my emotions.”

Today 35 years old, Klaas  is crushing the sport climbs, climbing the big walls, and bolting in Sardinia where he has helped develop the climbing sector in Ulassai. He climbed the Nose on El Capitan in Yosemite in 11h15min and in 2017 he did his first 8c named “Still Alive” a line he bolted himself. If you happen to stop in Sardinia to climb, his route recommendations are:

Riebedebie 7c/8c

Doors of perception 7a

Insanity 8b+

Tales of Sus’pense 8a+

Snake eye 7b

Il giorno delle firme 7c

Chumbawamba 7b+

Jenna Blumenfeld grew up in New Canaan, Connecticut where she began her formal ballet training at the New England Academy of Dance. After high school, she discovered modern dance, eventually leading her to earn a B.S. in Kinesiology-Dance at Indiana University. While attending IU, she performed the works of Paul Taylor, Martha Graham, Anna Sokolow, Elizabeth Shea, Laura Poole, and Martha Wittman. After dancing with Thomas/Ortiz Dance in New York City, Jenna ventured to Boulder, Colorado where she pursued her lifelong affection for writing and outdoor sports such as skiing, hiking, climbing, and biking. Jenna also joined the AscenDance Project in 2012 and since then has become one of my strongest performers, and closest friends. 

Editing this episode made me cry every time I opened the project. In our conversation, Jenna and I discuss our very different relationships to vulnerability. While to me, being vulnerable has come naturally, Jenna has been pretty good at keeping her emotions at bay for most of her life, until recently. After a life transition, she is now discovering a whole new world of showing emotion without the fear of loss or abandonment. In this beautifully touching and very vulnerable conversion, we both share what our process of learning to be vulnerable has looked like. One of my favorite quotes from our conversation: ‘Maybe it’s OK to cry a little when I talk.’

Natalie Jaime  grew up in Fayetteville, NC. She got her bachelor’s degree in Communications with a focus on media production at The University of North Carolina Chapel Hill and then proceeded to move to Washington DC where she worked as an Associate Producer for National Geographic. Later, Natalie and her husband lived in Westminster, Colorado for about six years. After their divorce, she decided to move into her Ford Transit van full time (with her two cats). Her boyfriend Dan and his fluffy dog Alphabear joined a year after. Fanatic rock climbers, they toured the US while she worked remotely. Today, they live on their own 5 acre piece of land right outside of Hueco Tanks, a world class climbing area close to El Paso, TX. Currently their home is a fifth wheel RV but their dream is to build a house on their land.

In our conversation, we talked about all the pros and cons of living in cities, houses, vans, on the road, and today, their own piece of land. We had some great laughs about logistics such as the luxury of having a door, warm toilet seats and the need to make kaka. We reflected back on the things we miss about city life and dove into the beauty and hardship of taking care of their own piece of land in the desert while living in a RV. 

References from our conversation:

Shout out to Sarah Clark who makes beautiful jewelry. Check out her IG account!  

Also,  ‘I like turtles’,  a little insider between Natalie and I. Check out the video! It’s pretty funny. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMNry4PE93

Chris Hopper was born and raised in Boulder, Colorado. He began studying classical piano at the age of 5 which sparked in him a love for music that has continued until this day. Today he plays gigs professionally with various bands playing everything from jazz, funk, hip hop, and jam band to world music. Movement has always been part of his life. Chris was a gymnast and freestyle skier growing up and today practices and teaches parkour. He also joined my dance company The AscenDance Project in 2013. What makes him an incredible dancer and performer is that he feels very deeply. When creating choreography, Chris has an incredible sensitivity toward the music and the emotion it evokes. His willingness to be vulnerable is what has allowed him to create magic, not only on stage, but also in everyday life. In our conversation, Chris shares what it’s like to be a highly sensitive man in this world, someone who cries and shows emotions, what it felt like growing up and how he hopes to help others through his own process and growth. Chris has been working with kids for many years and most recently developed a young man’s right of passage group called ‘The Next Generation of Men Tribe’ with his friend Garrett Braun. To learn more about his company, please visit https://www.rockymountainrites.com/