from campaign days and community fundraising to today’s equestrian work in ocala, my life keeps circling back to one through-line: being in motion, in service, and in quiet partnership with others.

when i look back at the different chapters of my life — campaign seasons, community events, carriage rides at the track, yoga studios, and now the horse capital of the world — i see a pattern i couldn’t name at the time. there has always been a current of service running underneath it all. i’ve raised funds, served alongside athletes and community leaders, waved from parade cars, and now i stand beside riders and their horses. the settings have changed, but the momentum is the same: moving through the world with a desire to give back, to support, and to help something larger than myself come to life.

early days: campaigns, community, and horses

in my younger years, i found myself at the center of a major community fundraising campaign in montreal, riding in parades and public events to help raise money for cancer and other causes. we didn’t just meet our goals — we went beyond them.

there are photos of me in a red coat beside harness horses at the racetrack, greeting drivers in the winners’ circle, and meeting some of the top hockey players of the time. on the surface, it looked like celebration. underneath, it was something quieter: community pulling together, step by step, to support people they would probably never meet.

during that era, i was also invited to serve as an ambassador to the marquis and marchioness of exeter, then leading the international olympic committee during the 1976 montreal summer games. i stood beside athletes and dignitaries in moments of ceremony and transition, witnessing up close how much heart, pressure, and humanity live inside high-performance sport.

riding alongside the jockey in the sulky, i didn’t have the language yet,
but i was already feeling the “gap between the gap™” –
that quiet space where a human, a horse, and a shared cause all move as one.

standing trackside with horse and driver during a cancer-research fundraiser –
one of the first moments i learned how service, sport, and community
could share the same heartbeat.
from the racetrack, the campaign spilled into the hockey arena —
another kind of herd, another kind of heartbeat.
from arena energy to studio lights and live interviews — saying yes to service in every setting.
and then there were the quiet moments in the middle of it all —
one person standing on the field, holding the thread between a
full stadium and a single cause.

launching the game with the first pitch —
channeling all that energy toward one campaign.

the campaign team — community, effort, and heart woven together behind the scenes.
seated beside prime minister brian mulroney and his wife, mila, at their residence at 24 sussex in ottawa —
a glimpse of a life that looked complete from the outside, even as the deeper work that would
one day lead me to breath and nervous-system healing was quietly beginning inside.

even then, horses were there — in the parades, at the track, woven into the backdrop of these public moments. i didn’t yet know how deeply they would shape the rest of my life, but they were already holding space in the story.

today, my work looks different, but the thread is the same: giving back in motion — one rider, one horse, one breath at a time.

spaces of service: from homes and studios to nervous systems

overtime, my work shifted into another form of service: creating environments that felt like sanctuary.

that period also brought me into political and diplomatic circles — state dinners, formal events, in pr at the canadian embassy in london, and evenings seated beside leaders like prime minister brian mulroney and his wife, mila. from the outside, it looked like the height of achievement and access. on the inside, my nervous system had already been carrying fear and hypervigilance since childhood. i knew how to play the role and keep the attention on service, but i didn’t yet know how to include myself in that circle of care.

in washington, dc, i worked as a feng shui consultant and designer, helping people reshape their homes, yoga studios, and healing spaces so their nervous systems could finally exhale. my projects ranged from a senior aide’s conference room adjacent to the secretary of defense’s office at the pentagon — where photos weren’t permitted, so i rely on a written testimonial — to a capitol hill yoga studio where i taught yoga, breathwork, and meditation for staffers, ambassadors, and public figures. a congresswoman i taught regularly described the studio as her reset space between votes, and lady gaga once called it her sanctuary when she was in town.

for me, it was never about the names. it was about creating rooms where the body could soften and people could remember what steadiness feels like, even in the middle of a very public, high-pressure life.

years of sobriety, trauma work, and nervous-system healing have slowly turned that history into capacity. i know what it is to look composed while shaking inside, to feel like an imposter even when everything appears “successful.” that lived experience is part of why i sit so comfortably now with riders and humans whose lives look polished on the surface, but whose systems are tired of holding everything together alone.

today, that same devotion flows into my work with breath, horses, and the nervous system. instead of rearranging a room, i’m helping riders rearrange their inner landscape — their breath, their patterns, their internal seat — so both they and their horses can move through the world with more ease.

giving back in motion, now

today, based in ocala — the horse capital of the world — my version of philanthropy looks different than it did in those campaign days, but the essence is the same.

it looks like:

offering my experience and training to riders whose nervous systems are carrying more than their horses can hold
sharing breathwork and regulation tools with equestrians, athletes, and humans in transition who may not have language for what they’re feeling, but know something needs to shift
planting quiet seeds in the community — rack cards in small shops, conversations at front desks, one-on-one sessions where someone finally feels seen and regulated instead of overwhelmed

it’s still “giving back,” but the currency has changed. it’s less about big numbers on a fundraising board, and more about one rider, one horse, one nervous system at a time — working in the gap between the gap™, where subtle shifts create very real change.

full circle: service as a way of moving through the world

for me, philanthropy has never only been about writing a check or attending a gala. it has always been about movement:

moving through communities with a genuine wish to contribute
moving alongside others — whether drivers at the track, yoga students in a studio, or riders in an arena
moving energy, breath, and awareness so people and horses can find a steadier way forward

as i continue to build my work in ocala and beyond, i feel that same momentum circling back again — a full-circle journey of giving back, now expressed through breath, presence, and the quiet, powerful partnership between horse and human.

this is philanthropy in motion, as i know it: one conversation, one barn visit, one nervous system, one act of service at a time.

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