Licensed Clinical Psychologist
Human Performance Consultant
Trauma Researcher
Executive Coach
I am the son of a Vietnam vet and the grandson of a Korean War and Vietnam Veteran. My life has been shaped by service, sacrifice, and the stories left unsaid.
For over 25 years, I’ve walked beside those who carry heavy stories—Special Operations warriors, trauma survivors, high performers, and leaders navigating pressure, purpose, and profound change. My professional roots are in clinical psychology and trauma research, but my work has evolved into something more personal—more transformative: helping people come home to themselves.
I’ve coached TEDx speakers, PGA and MLB athletes, physicians, and professionals in high-stakes roles. I’ve briefed generals, trained Army Behavioral Health teams, collaborated with European allies, presented at international military conferences, taught in universities, led retreats, and co-led research that helped redefine PTSD care.
What I’ve learned—what continues to guide my work—is this: no matter who we are or what we’ve achieved, we are always in transition.
I dreamt of many things—leading many lives—and pursued them with intensity and care. Each dream, each project, reached a natural endpoint. Often, those endings came just after a goal was achieved. While most people are driven by the hope of what might be, I was driven by the act of making it happen. But I learned the hard truth: sometimes, achieving the dream leads directly to a moment of disorientation.
Who are we when our victories become setbacks?
After each chapter closed, I built a metaphorical funeral pyre for the identity I was shedding. When the smoke cleared, the fire lit a new path forward. I’ve poured myself into trauma intervention models, veterans’ retreats, university initiatives, and professional publications—only to find that, eventually, my vision and ambition exceeded the vison or needs of the organization.
We often give our best to missions that aren’t our own. We contract ourselves to fulfill someone else’s vision. We become “resources”—and when operating in our element, we tend to give until exhaustion. That commitment is rewarded while we produce, but when we outgrow the system, we’re pushed out—or we walk out.
That, too, is a threshold.
If you’ve ever felt like your capacity outpaces the vision of those around you, you are not broken—you’re built for a path only you can walk. But to take that path, you must leave behind the version of yourself that helped you survive. You must cross the threshold.
In 2022, while sitting beside my father in VA hospice, I realized that my mission to end PTSD wasn’t just professional—it was personal. I had spent years helping warriors return to their families in a way my father never could. That moment marked a turning point.
I stepped back, grieved, and re-emerged with clarity.
After 35 years of education, training, and experience, I could finally see what was emerging: the very skills we use to guide people through trauma and high performance are the same skills that can help them prevent trauma—by making meaning, building capacity, and embracing what’s learned along the way. The pain and the struggle at these thresholds is the fuel for our transformation.
Working with active-duty SOF, I did start with a focus on the past and trauma recovery. With Operators returning to the theater of war, I began building these skills though combined coaching. What began as recovery had become preparation. What began as healing became transformation.
That shift became the foundation of my work in transition coaching.
Transition isn’t just about change—it’s about transformation. It’s what happens when the old story ends and the new one hasn’t begun. It’s the in-between space where identity reshapes itself and your deeper self begins to emerge.
This work—the work I offer—is for those navigating life’s high-stakes transitions. It may be prompted by retirement, injury, career change, loss, internal collapse, or success that no longer feels like success. Whatever the catalyst, transition is the place where you learn what must be grieved, what has been carried too long, and what is finally ready to unfold.
Let’s walk this threshold together.