If you’ve ever felt alone in a room full of people...you’re not alone.

If you’ve ever wished for a space where you could show up as you are, not as you “should” be...you’re in the right place.

I was 21 years old, walking home from class, mentally running through the long, exhausting list of everything I needed to do as a busy college student juggling life, school, and work.

When I reached my piano lessons on that list, something I had once loved, my body tensed up.
“I need to practice piano,” I thought. And for the first time, I consciously realized that I wasn't feeling joy. It was obligation.

Crossing the bridge Du Mail over the Arve, I puzzled over the wave of resistance rising inside me.
It wasn’t about the piano itself.
It was about the words I chose.
I didn’t need to play piano. I could choose to.
In a life still shaped by the expectations and limits of others as a 21-year-old, that tiny shift, from obligation to choice, felt revolutionary.

That moment taught me that the semantics of our thoughts matter.
The words we choose, even inside our own heads, shape the way we experience life.

It’s a lesson that quietly grew over the years.
It shaped the way I listen, the way I speak, and the way I create spaces for others.

It was the seed that grew into the abundant tree of life, love, and community growing around me, now.

I made Serendipitous Gathering because I needed a space like this too.
A place to put your words down without worrying if they make sense yet.
A place where it’s okay to just say it—messy, unfinished, half-true—and trust that something good will come from it.

I’m not here to fix you or rush you or make you tidy up your thoughts before you're ready.
I'm here to listen with curiosity. To receive your words, and let them move around until something clicks, when you're ready, if you're ready.

This isn’t about getting it right.
It’s about realigning with yourself.
Finding the places where you built walls you didn’t even realize were there, and realizing you can climb over them.
Remembering you have the right to feel congruent again. To come home to yourself.

There’s no performance here.
You don't have to be wise yet.
You don't have to be sure yet.
You just get to be here.

That’s enough.

If you have ever felt invisible.
If you have ever craved gentler conversations.
If you are ready to step out of obligation and into choice.
One breath, one word, one connection at a time: you belong here.

Let's Begin.

You’re invited. Come as you are.