Why I Speak: On Holding the Room, Naming the Unsaid, and Building Something Honest in Real Time

There’s a moment that happens when I’m speaking—not always right away, and not always with words—but a moment where the room exhales.

The shoulders lower.

The air shifts.

Something softens.

Something wakes up.

That’s the moment I’m here for.

For the past twenty years, I’ve had the privilege of working with leaders, founders, and creatives who are building things that matter—businesses, brands, bodies of work. And for nearly as long, I’ve been speaking inside the spaces where that building takes place: at retreats, conferences, creative summits, offsites, and gatherings where people come not just to learn—but to remember who they are.

Speaking was never the thing I set out to do. I was a strategist. A builder behind the scenes. But over time, I found myself being invited to say the quiet parts out loud in rooms where no one else wanted to go first. I found myself standing on stages, not because I wanted to be seen, but because I couldn’t keep what I knew to myself.

And I learned something: The right words, at the right moment, in the right room, can change everything.

I don’t call what I do “motivational speaking.”

That term has never felt quite right.

What I do is closer to holding a mirror up in a room. To saying the thing that’s already sitting in everyone’s chest but hasn’t been named yet. To helping people pause long enough to hear what’s underneath the noise—so they can get honest about what they’re here to do.

When I speak, it’s not about delivering a pre-scripted keynote or performing a perfected story arc. It’s about meeting the moment. It’s about building trust, naming what’s real, and guiding people into clarity they can actually use.

My favorite rooms are the ones filled with people who aren’t just looking for another tactic—but for alignment. For language that resonates, not just impresses. For a way of working, leading, or living that doesn’t require them to abandon themselves in the process.

That’s where Soul Whiskey comes in.

That’s where I come in.

I speak on a handful of core topics—conscious leadership, burnout and business building, sustainable growth, the inner life of entrepreneurs—but everything I do is customized to the room, the people, the energy.

Some events call for teaching. Others call for storytelling. Some call for something more intimate, less scripted—like a fireside conversation or live coaching session. That’s the beauty of this kind of work: no two moments are the same, and the best ones can’t be repeated.

Whether I’m speaking to a team of founders in the middle of a pivot or a group of creatives rebuilding after burnout, I’m not there to hand over answers. I’m there to ask better questions. To offer language, structure, and perspective. To remind them that alignment is still possible—and that growth doesn’t have to mean self-abandonment.

What I love most about these engagements is the honesty they require. You can’t fake presence. And you certainly can’t fake resonance. You have to earn that in real time—with attention, humility, and a deep respect for the people in front of you.

That’s what keeps me saying yes to this work. Not the stage, not the mic—but the chance to create something honest, live, and transformative alongside people who are ready to do the same.

If you’re hosting a gathering, leading a retreat, or curating a conversation that needs depth—not just inspiration—I would be honored to be part of it.