So apparently I run a cult now.

It seems that when you stop offering unlimited access to every person who emails, texts, or wants to “pick your brain” over coffee, the natural conclusion is: ah yes, this must be a cult

People who love digging deeper and can’t seem to find information about me that “clicks;” ah yes; cult.

So here are some of the personal details for those asking:

A long time ago, I published a book.
It was called Miracle Ride, and is currently in its seventh printing.
I was invited to speak all over the world and people couldn’t get enough.
I answered every email, and picked up the phone for every stranger who wanted connection.
I devoted thousands of hours to my work with people, both chessed and paid.

And then…

I got tired.

Like bone-deep, blood-deep, existential-tired.

So I pulled back.

Not because I’m hiding.
Not because I’ve joined some secret spiritual Illuminati.
Not because I’m planning to hand out white robes and a kool-aid recipe.

But because I’m prioritizing.

Because I’m a mommy.

Another personal tidbit for you:

I had cancer - twice.
And I’ve prayed, truly and deeply, for this life.
For these children.
For these days.

So when I say I pulled back, what I mean is, I’ve given myself permission to be human. I’ve stopped pretending I could give everyone all of me all the time and still have anything left for the people who matter most.

I held off on getting a smartphone until it became impossible not to.
Held off on downloading WhatsApp even longer.
I still don’t do social media.
 

I write these emails. That’s about it.

Because I'm the opposite of a cult.

Yes, I know people in cults say that too.
You might never know the truth. Deal with it.

I never wanted to be an icon of inspiration to adoring crowds at fundraising events. I'm an introvert who rarely goes out to schmooze with the neighbors. I want to read books on the couch and learn barefoot at the breakfast counter. 

At events, I’m often at the kids’ table. I like hanging out with the ones who still remember where they came from. The ones who ask real questions, who hang spoons from their noses, and don’t need me to explain my theology or hashkafos.

I’m not mysterious.
And yet people seem confused by me all the time.

They try to figure out what “box” I fit into.
Chassidish? Litvish? BT? FFB? Raised religious? Became religious?
Why do I wear a tichel? Where’s my accent from?
What does my name mean? Who gave me haskama?
What’s my hashkafa, really?

The thing is, the more information they get, the more confused they become.

I wasn’t raised in a box, so I'm never going to fit neatly into one.
I was raised by parents who encouraged us to think deeply, live honestly, and in integrity.
To stand for something real.
To settle for nothing less than our best.
To be kind.

In the tiny margins of the life I keep sacred, I’m just the funny workout buddy at the gym, the mom cackling with her teens, the girl in sweatpants and glasses reading a book about 13th-century rabbinic discourse and wondering why no one else finds it this fascinating.

And outside of being Mom, I devote the rest of my available time and energy to the students inside my trainings.
Because I owe it to my students, and to the world, to help raise up the next generation of professionals who don’t just know how to breathe with someone, but who know how to be with someone.

My students get my time.
They get voice notes and texts.
They get real support, real friendship, real access.

But the thousands of people who reach out after hearing an episode or reading something I wrote, asking to “pick my brain,” or have coffee, or wondering what my childhood was like or what my maiden name is or whether I’ve ever met that one rabbi they love, 

I see you. I bless you.
And also, even I need space to breathe.

If you want to know me better, there are ways in.
Reading these emails (or past emails posted on my blog) are a great way to start.

Vessel is open to men and women invested in their self development.
Ignite is for women who want to light up from the inside out.
Hypnotherapy Certification is for Vessel alumni who want to learn to wield words with wisdom and care.
 

Azamra Breathwork Facilitator Training is for the ones ready to go deep and be changed.

These are the spaces I give myself to.

So when people write asking for private sessions, or a call, or a deep dive into my maternal lineage, I breathe deep and remind myself:

I don’t owe the world my soul. My kids though, I owe them the world. 

With a full heart, a full life, and some really good boundaries.

Speaking of boundaries, Azamra applications close tomorrow at midnight.

If you’ve been circling the edges, feeling the pull but holding back, now’s the time.
The group is intimate, intentional, and closing.

If you don’t apply now, you’ll be waiting at least another twelve months - this cohort only opens once a year.
No exceptions.

Wednesday is our staff meeting.
After that, it's full steam ahead, onboarding, prep... all of that good stuff.
If you're meant to be here, your seat is still open but just for a few hours.
You’ll want to make that move now.