Meet the founders
Two therapists. One shared vision.
Our story
Rumi’s Den grew out of a relationship that has taken many forms over the years. We began as family, became friends, found a shared intellectual home at Pacifica, worked alongside one another, and eventually began dreaming of what we might build together. Only with time could we recognize something quietly taking shape beneath it all, moving through each layer of our relationship and leading us here.
At the heart of that dream was a shared belief that our work should contribute something meaningful to the human experience. For both of us, this had become more than a profession. It was work that asked something of us, something we felt entrusted to give back.
We wanted to create the kind of space we longed to find in psychotherapy, one where the clinical and the deeply human could exist together. Where culture, spirituality, faith, the body, and the old ways we have made sense of being human could have a place in the room. Where even what is messy, contradictory, or difficult to name could be met with curiosity rather than judgment.
Balkh, the Mother of Cities
A way of seeing that travels through generations
We felt a natural connection to Rumi and his word. His poetry speaks of love, longing, loss, transformation, and the mysteries we encounter when we turn inward. But our connection to Rumi reaches beyond his words.
Jalal al Din Muhammad Balkhi, known to much of the world as Rumi, came from the region of Balkh, the same land from which our own heritage comes. Once known as the Mother of Cities, Balkh was a meeting place of cultures, poetry, spirituality, and scholarship. There is something profound in finding ourselves, centuries later, drawn toward a way of understanding the human soul that emerged from the same soil as our ancestors.
Perhaps some things travel through generations: a memory, a way of seeing, something we recognize before we understand it.
Rumi’s Den was named in that spirit. Our hope is to create a space that feels less like a clinic and more like a sanctuary. A place where what hurts can be explored, what has been hidden can be discovered, and the journey inward can become, in its own way, a journey home.