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 From Chaos to Calm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I first started organizing, I was a young mom just trying to keep up with three tornadoes disguised as sons. There were toys, laundry, and school projects everywhere, and I had to learn how to create calm in the chaos if I wanted to stay sane.

 

Over the years, my work grew right alongside my family. I’ve helped college kids set up their first apartments, parents juggle busy households, retirees simplify for their next chapter, and adult children manage the emotional work of downsizing their parents’ homes.

 

Now, as a grandmother, I’ve come full circle — teaching my grandkids the same lessons I once taught my clients: that organization isn’t about perfection, it’s about creating a space that supports your life.

 

After more than 30 years of doing this work hands-on, I began to realize the most powerful changes weren’t happening when I was labeling bins — they were happening in the conversations I was having with people. The “a-ha” moments, the mindset shifts, the belief that they could do it.

 

That’s what led me to coaching — where I still use every bit of my real-world organizing experience, but now I get to teach people how to create lasting change on their own. It’s the best of both worlds: the wisdom that comes from doing, and the joy of helping others grow.

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Meet my greatest Teachers

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Crazy, right? I mean — they’re obviously horses. What could they have possibly taught me about being a home organizer?

 

Actually, Max (shorty) and Toby (not short) taught me everything about relationships, communication, expectations, and partnership.

 

When I started my career, I was your classic pushy Type-A person who thought I knew exactly what people should do with their clutter and their space.

Just like when I started out with Max — an incredibly stubborn, pushy horse I bought at an auction for $800. The only other bidder was the slaughterhouse buyer. He was a horse no one else wanted to take on.

 

Toby, on the other hand, was given to me as a “project” because he was only rideable when sedated. (Yes, really.)

 

These horses did not change for me.

I had to change for them.

 

They needed someone who listened, someone who knew how to motivate them, and someone willing to act like a partner — not a predator.

I spent years working with amazing coaches who helped me shift from a stubborn control freak to an empathetic listener — someone who could admit when she was wrong and do better next time.

 

These two horses changed me — and the way I relate to everyone.

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All my relationships improved as a result.

And to this day, I still use what I learned from them in every session with my clients.

 

I’ve learned that real change has less to do with effort and more to do with feel. It’s about reading the moment — knowing when to step forward and when to pause, when someone needs a nudge and when they just need someone to sit beside them for a bit.
 
Like working with a horse, helping people get unstuck takes patience, timing, and trust. You learn to see what motivates them, to move gently around what brings up sadness or anxiety, and to make it easier — not harder — to do the right thing.
 
Because progress doesn’t come from pushing — it comes from listening, and from creating the space where change can finally feel safe enough to happen.

Why I Coach the Way I Do

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