Words have been brewing quietly on the horizon.
Shaped by mist and mountain, steeped in six years of building and burning, breaking and becoming, listening and loving in the highlands of Nepal. I wasn’t sure these words would ever leave the page. But now, it’s time.

A memoir has come into form.
Unearthed: Building, Breaking, Becoming is here.

The book is a memoir written in the hush of morning light and the ache of midnight questions. It traces the journey of a family uprooting from the known and crafting a life from the soil up—raising a home, a retreat, and children in the Himalayas.

But it isn’t just about building walls.
It’s about holding space:
For doubt. For silence. For unschooling and rewilding.
For asking again what matters, and letting go of the rest.

There was no master plan. Just an experiment.
Uncertain. Often absurd.
Always human.

I didn’t set out to write a book.

I set out to build a home, raise a family, and hold space for something still taking shape inside me.

What unfolded through monsoons and dry spells, through broken trusses and broken expectations was never a journey toward perfection, but toward something truer. Quieter.
A return to what had always been.

Unearthed isn’t a tidy memoir.
It offers no neat answers, no glossy redemption arc.
Instead, it offers fragments:
Of a life lived slightly off the map, where the land led more than we did.
Stories layered like rammed earth. Packed. Pressed. Weathered.

Some arrived with clarity. Others only after the dust had settled.

This is that imperfect shape.

Available on Amazon worldwide.