About Koko
I remember the light.
A radiant field of white expands to the horizon—soft, subdued, glowing.
Round shimmers of goldenness float.
The light flows through us all.
Home.
Anchoring the light
For thirty-eight years, I lived as an outlaw—a rebellious soul on the run, aching to leap beyond the confining walls of skin. I longed for the harmony I experienced in that light-filled place I remembered before birth.
At forty-two, I have ripened. And I learned how to stay.
I remain on Earth—in this body.
I remain when the reflexive urge to flee, fight, or freeze arises. Leaning in, to embody an all-encompassing love—where freedom resides.
We can alchemize the unbearable into ecstatic expansion.
And so, I am here, for this collective, co-creative mission, to remember the light in all things.
The Path of Remembrance
I spent my first summers living in a tipi, high in the bear country, above the town of Crested Butte, Colorado.
Nine months old, I crawled through tall, wispy grasses. Warmth blanketed my skin; a breeze kissed my cheeks. Around me, wild things soared, flapped, and fluffed their wings. We communed. Aspen leaves shimmered near the creek where rainbow trout spawned in snowmelt. A native tapestry of wildflowers waved. Fuzzy bodies buzzed from bloom to beaming bloom. I giggled—one with this kindred kingdom.
My chin pulled upward. A bright circle of light. A reminder.
As a child, I naturally blended into altered states of consciousness. I never talked about it, and no one else did either.
I saw babies before they were born, and souls after they had left their bodies. Sometimes they asked for support to deliver a message to loved ones still in human form or called out for assistance to find the light.
In school, we studied the history of hurting. Dates and names filled textbooks and covered chalkboards. I wondered: Why is no one teaching us remembrance? If they did, these wars, the racism, the slavery—this forgetting that we are innately one—could stop repeating.
Before this incarnation, I searched many lifetimes for truth as an exiled witness. Now, I journey with community, sharing what I remember of the light we come from, the light we are, and the light we return to.
I celebrate both the seen and unseen golden threads of interconnection through writing, speaking, and sessions. They offer a blanket warmed by the sun, a lighthouse when you need it.
“Listen to the love letters of the wind. There are messages for you.”
A Sanctuary for Souls
In November of 2025, I stood in a round pen with a Clydesdale mare. Rescued from a kill pen, she now lives on a ranch in Arizona. Where she and the desert landscape touched, a radiant wave washed over me, carrying a vision: A healing center for humans, horses, and the planet. This space brings those seeds to life—a living, breathing sanctuary where you aren’t learning something new, but remembering what you already know.
I live, work, and frolic in the Sonoran Desert, where the stars meet the sand, and the wild things soar, slither, and burrow. As a godmother and mother, my joy of being blooms like the Saguaro cactus, in the here and now.
Currently, I am weaving delight into books: children’s stories, middle-grade fiction, poetry, and a non-fiction series, Remembering the Light and Kindred Kingdom.
Enjoying this luminous unfolding together.
For This,
Koko 💗🪽