About Jenna

Though I work with women of many ages, I do not bring the exuberant confidence of youth to my approach. Instead I offer the grounded wisdom of a woman walking the path of an Initiated Elder infused with a sometimes edgy sense of mischief. Curious, with a fundamental love for wild nature and for human-expressions of beauty, I am a compassionate & intuitive (and highly trained) facilitator for your healing journey.

My Story
As a wild child growing up in the mostly-rural San Francisco Bay Area, I obsessed with the Beatles. My dad took me to their final concert at Candlestick Park. I wove and retailed earth-colored yarn belts; embroidered blouses to wear when I folk danced at Stanford University; and wrote in a journal almost daily. I lived in Cuernavaca Mexico for a month and spoke fluent Spanish.
I wanted to be Joni Mitchell or Joan Baez, so I taught guitar. I was also the family go-to for baking desserts. I worked on an archeological dig and on the Save the Bay Campaign; drove a VW Beetle through the Pacific Coast Range; and discovered the joy of backpacking (my parents were confused because, as a child, I wanted to be carried when on family hikes, though to be fair, sitting up on my Dad’s shoulders was pretty nifty).
I began my own healing journey at UC Santa Cruz in the 1970s. When I graduated with double honors, I remember wishing I could “just” be a medicine woman, a healer. My journal from two years before that says, “If I could be anything, I would want the power to heal people with plants, to doctor.” I wrote, “I wonder if that prayer is being answered, only it’s a slow process.” I thought it was slow then and I was 19.
All these decades later, it’s odd to find that I am that, though not in the way I imagined. Life is rarely a straight-line process, with a clear progression between point A + B. And. Life blossoms late for some of us.
UCSC’s Community Studies program required me to do field study and write an undergraduate thesis. So, I lived on the Crow Indian Reservation for six months and developed a how-to manual for traditional crafts for the local 4-H program. I hung out with two ladies at the Crow Arts & Crafts Cooperative, learned to bead while listening to their stories. I participated in my first sweat-bath ceremony, disoriented from the heat and a dip in the Little Big Horn River, I promptly drove my VW bug in a ditch.
As a wild child growing up in the mostly-rural San Francisco Bay Area, I obsessed with the Beatles. My dad took me to their final concert at Candlestick Park. I wove and retailed earth-colored yarn belts; embroidered blouses to wear when I folk danced at Stanford University; and wrote in a journal almost daily. I lived in Cuernavaca Mexico for a month and spoke fluent Spanish.
I wanted to be Joni Mitchell or Joan Baez, so I taught guitar. I was also the family go-to for baking desserts. I worked on an archeological dig and on the Save the Bay Campaign; drove a VW Beetle through the Pacific Coast Range; and discovered the joy of backpacking (my parents were confused because, as a child, I wanted to be carried when on family hikes, though to be fair, sitting up on my Dad’s shoulders was pretty nifty).
I began my own healing journey at UC Santa Cruz in the 1970s. When I graduated with double honors, I remember wishing I could “just” be a medicine woman, a healer. My journal from two years before that says, “If I could be anything, I would want the power to heal people with plants, to doctor.” I wrote, “I wonder if that prayer is being answered, only it’s a slow process.” I thought it was slow then and I was 19.
All these decades later, it’s odd to find that I am that, though not in the way I imagined. Life is rarely a straight-line process, with a clear progression between point A + B. And. Life blossoms late for some of us.
UCSC’s Community Studies program required me to do field study and write an undergraduate thesis. So, I lived on the Crow Indian Reservation for six months and developed a how-to manual for traditional crafts for the local 4-H program. I hung out with two ladies at the Crow Arts & Crafts Cooperative, learned to bead while listening to their stories. I participated in my first sweat-bath ceremony, disoriented from the heat and a dip in the Little Big Horn River, I promptly drove my VW bug in a ditch.
In my quest for wholeness and health, I sampled a smorgasbord of approaches: counseling and hypnosis, chiropractics, massage, physical therapy, Shamanic healing, sweat baths, solo vision quests, and Sundance ceremonies. For three years, I trained in Life and Business Coaching and was one of the first in Gallatin County. But I remained restless, seeking.

Decades ago, my daughter penned this portrait of me in a notebook. It so accurately portrays my stress level at the time she drew it that after gifting it to me, she has never wanted to look at it again.
I used to feel like I was caught in a trash compactor and it was squeezing the life out of me. Now, there is so much research about the effects of childhood trauma, but at that time there simply wasn’t and I often felt crazy.
I had environmental sensitivities before there was even language for them. My reactiveness and people’s responses made me feel crazy. Was it all in my head? It sure didn’t seem like it.
To calm down, feel better, keep going, I became a workshop junkie. I read self-help book after self-help book. I looked for the one person, single approach, that could give me the crucial key to my own healing.
.
My daughter is an adult with Down Syndrome. If she hadn't needed me, I probably would have given up on myself, on life. Being a mother is intrinsic to who I am. The ulitmate motivator to keep on keeping on.
I used to feel like I was caught in a trash compactor and it was squeezing the life out of me. Now, there is so much research about the effects of childhood trauma, but at that time there simply wasn’t and I often felt crazy.
I had environmental sensitivities before there was even language for them. My reactiveness and people’s responses made me feel crazy. Was it all in my head? It sure didn’t seem like it.
To calm down, feel better, keep going, I became a workshop junkie. I read self-help book after self-help book. I looked for the one person, single approach, that could give me the crucial key to my own healing.
.
My daughter is an adult with Down Syndrome. If she hadn't needed me, I probably would have given up on myself, on life. Being a mother is intrinsic to who I am. The ulitmate motivator to keep on keeping on.
BodyTalk™ Therapy
became an essential missing piece
became an essential missing piece
I was introduced to BodyTalk by a physical therapist who had learned a couple of techniques from a friend of hers. When I first practiced the Cortices brain-balancing on myself, I felt like I was holding my brain in, giving it the safe and quiet space it had needed for so long.
Already a Certified Ka Ta See Traditional Healing and Balancing Practitioner, I embraced BodyTalk’s more mainstream approach to energy healing and balancing. I was attracted to its scope— both simple and infinitely nuanced— and to being able to comfortably present myself as a energy healer while I still worked in Gallatin County’s criminal justice system.
I began to manage my stress. I reduced and then eliminated my dependency on over-the-counter painkillers. My thinking got clearer; my ability to be constructively linear and analytical strengthened.
Already a Certified Ka Ta See Traditional Healing and Balancing Practitioner, I embraced BodyTalk’s more mainstream approach to energy healing and balancing. I was attracted to its scope— both simple and infinitely nuanced— and to being able to comfortably present myself as a energy healer while I still worked in Gallatin County’s criminal justice system.
I began to manage my stress. I reduced and then eliminated my dependency on over-the-counter painkillers. My thinking got clearer; my ability to be constructively linear and analytical strengthened.
Ever so slowly, I began to manage my stress, reduced and then eliminated my dependency on over-the-counter painkillers.
My thinking got clearer; my ability to be constructively linear and analytical strengthened.

In 2012, I found Craniosacral Fascial/Dental Therapy, the missing link in providing a hands-on approach to address and unwind connective tissue. Likewise, Ortho-Bionomy® invites release with gentle touch, supporting the body’s organic movement. I’ve taught my daughter how to do some of these techniques; we work on each other. And I work on myself a lot. I am an enthusiastic advocate for consistent and persistent self-care.
Daily, I am in awe of our healing capacity, of how different one person’s healing process from a particular condition might be from another’s with the same diagnosis. Read a few client testimonials.
Daily, I am in awe of our healing capacity, of how different one person’s healing process from a particular condition might be from another’s with the same diagnosis. Read a few client testimonials.
These days?

I walk the trails in my Bozeman neighborhood and the mountains of the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem, generally with a four-legged companion. I’ve been a columnist for several current and now-defunct publications. Now I write for my own e-news and am at work on a memoir as well as a book on how I approach healing. I read and read and read, largely novels.
During the summers, the garden beckons. In winter, there are plenty of indoor plants needing attention. Every morning, I energetically balance them, roots to soil, soil to roots. I send that same balance to the rest of my household, drink a glass of sunlight-infused water, and settle in to my day.
Subscribe to my email newsletter, here.