I’ve been in my Pilates era since the early ‘90s: back when I got my first car and drove my friends all over LA to check out Beck, Weezer and Nirvana in gritty coffeehouses and small music venues by night; while wandering the aisles of the Psychic Eye and The Bodhi Tree metaphysical book shops by day, in search of answers to my deepest questions. Candles, crystals, and stacks of books on philosophy, astrology and spirituality became part of the landscape of my youth…right alongside my penchant for indie music, foreign films, and pushing boundaries to check out the farther corners of LA, my entire universe at the time.

I half-jokingly say I grew up in “the land of cults,” and in many ways it’s true. I was exposed early to an endless spectrum of spiritual beliefs, self-help philosophies and alternative ideologies—which, interestingly enough, made me more skeptical than gullible. I learned to question everything and look at the “woo-woo” world with a critical eye. But after experiencing a profound personal family trauma as a teenager, my search for meaning deepened…and despite my skepticism, the things that always resonated with me were movement, rhythm and the stars. Somehow, they just vibed to my core.

Around that same time, I discovered Classical Pilates as a teenage dance major at Santa Monica College, and my world was rocked in an entirely different way. From the very first lesson, something immediately clicked, and my body didn’t just need it—it craved it. What began as a physical practice quickly evolved into a lifelong path rooted in therapeutic exercise and the deep connection between body, mind…and spirit.