In 2015, I woke up in a hospital bed, alone, in the dark, with a foam collar around my neck, my body aching. I was really confused about where I was, having no recollection about how I had gotten there. The last thing I remembered was riding my bicycle, a red, early-1990s Trek road bike, down the street. I had just moved to Madison and wanted to ride around town to get a sense of my new community.

Only moments after starting on my ride was I struck by a car turning left at an intersection as I was headed straight. (And if you were wondering: yes, I had the right of way.) At least, that's what the doctors and hospital staff told me. I don't remember any of it.

I am really fortunate to have only had relatively minor injuries. This realization was most clear after I got my bike back, where the front fork was snapped, and the handlebars were perpendicular to their normal orientation.

This experience wasn't the thing that made me become a counselor. But it was maybe one of those larger moments in my life that the existentialists refer to as a "crisis:" those experiences where we brush up against the fact that we are alive, that we exist, that we are here in this moment.

In 2015, I woke up in a hospital bed, alone, in the dark, with a foam collar around my neck, my body aching. I was really confused about where I was, having no recollection about how I had gotten there. The last thing I remembered was riding my bicycle, a red, early-1990s Trek road bike, down the street. I had just moved to Madison and wanted to ride around town to get a sense of my new community.

Only moments after starting on my ride was I struck by a car turning left at an intersection as I was headed straight. (And if you were wondering: yes, I had the right of way.) At least, that's what the doctors and hospital staff told me. I don't remember any of it.

I am really fortunate to have only had relatively minor injuries. This realization was most clear after I got my bike back, where the front fork was snapped, and the handlebars were perpendicular to their normal orientation.

This experience wasn't the thing that made me become a counselor. But it was maybe one of those larger moments in my life that the existentialists refer to as a "crisis:" those experiences where we brush up against the fact that we are alive, that we exist, that we are here in this moment.

A lot of things have the potential to be crises in our lives. And while the word "crisis" has a negative connotation, it doesn't have to be bad; good things in our lives have this potential as well.

For as long as I can remember, I've always been oriented towards these bigger questions of life. I find them fascinating, daunting, frightening at times, but rich too. What are we doing here? What is this?

I got into this work because people really interest me, and because life and experience really interest me. Existing: it's a really funny, weird, magical, scary, hard, exhausting, rewarding thing. It's something that is so hard to make sense of, and I wanted to engage with others as they seek to make sense of it for themselves.

It's an absolute joy to simply be present to and in the presence of another person, to help others walk through and face the challenges they encounter, to support them as they explore what it ultimately means to be themselves: a living person at this place and moment in time.

And when I'm not working with my clients? I love spending time with my wife and children in our community in Verona. I enjoy gardening, playing with my kiddos, traveling, reading, doing some crafts, and following professional baseball.

A lot of things have the potential to be crises in our lives. And while the word "crisis" has a negative connotation, it doesn't have to be bad; good things in our lives have this potential as well.

For as long as I can remember, I've always been oriented towards these bigger questions of life. I find them fascinating, daunting, frightening at times, but rich too. What are we doing here? What is this?

I got into this work because people really interest me, and because life and experience really interest me. Existing: it's a really funny, weird, magical, scary, hard, exhausting, rewarding thing. It's something that is so hard to make sense of, and I wanted to engage with others as they seek to make sense of it for themselves.

It's an absolute joy to simply be present to and in the presence of another person, to help others walk through and face the challenges they encounter, to support them as they explore what it ultimately means to be themselves: a living person at this place and moment in time.

And when I'm not working with my clients? I love spending time with my wife and children in our community in Verona. I enjoy gardening, playing with my kiddos, traveling, reading, doing some crafts, and following professional baseball.

Certifications

- National Certified Counselor (NCC)

- Internal Family Systems (IFS) Level I, IFS Institute

Certifications

- National Certified Counselor (NCC)

- Internal Family Systems (IFS) Level I, IFS Institute

Memberships

- American Counseling Association

- Wisconsin Counseling Association