Hey, I'm Andi.
I've been in love with the natural world for as long as I can remember.
As a kid, I spent every chance I got climbing trees, catching bugs, learning about plants, and wandering the California hills behind my grandparents' home. My favorite birthday wasn't spent at an amusement park—it was spent leading my friends through my favorite trails, shrouded hideaways, and teaching them everything I learned about the world I admired. Looking back, I think I've always loved inviting people into places that made me feel more alive.
That curiosity never really left me.
It led me to earth-centered spirituality, countless hours holed up in the religion section of libraries and online Pagan forums, and a lifelong habit of asking questions. Even as adulthood pulled me toward productivity, careers, and the version of success I thought I was supposed to want, there was always a quiet part of me searching for something more.
For a long time, though, I felt disconnected from myself. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in my late teens, and later discovered that many of the struggles I'd spent years blaming on personal failure were actually shaped by undiagnosed ADHD. That realization didn't solve everything overnight, but it gave me permission to stop fighting myself and start understanding myself.
From there, I began asking different questions.
What was giving me energy? What was taking it away?
I took an honest look at my relationship with social media, video games, weed, unfulfilling work, and even some of my relationships. Instead of trying to force myself into someone else's definition of a meaningful life, I started making small changes that reflected the life I actually wanted to live.
Along the way, I discovered practices like self-compassion and intentional living—not as ways to become someone new, but as ways to reconnect with the person I'd been all along.
Alchemy Untapped grew from that journey.
Today, I create retreats, workshops, videos, stories, and The Cairn to offer the kind of space I was searching for myself: a place to slow down, quiet the noise, reconnect with what matters, so that you can show up for yourself and for your life in the way you have always aspired to.
I don't believe I have your answers.
I believe you do.
If there's one thing I've learned, it's that a meaningful life isn't something someone else can hand you. It's something you uncover for yourself. I'm simply grateful to walk alongside people as they find their own path—and, every now and then, to say, "There's something here I'd love to show you."