Chad Herst, MS, LAC, PCC

Chad Herst, MS, LAC, PCC

I didn’t get into this work because I had it all figured out. I got here because my own fucked up life cracked me open early.

When I was 18, my brother took his life. It was my first week of college. I grew up in a house where sensitivity wasn’t valued, performance was. So I kept performing. I could still do it. But it was empty. Like watching life through glass.

Eventually the strategies stopped working. I had to do some real inner work.


I did a lot of weird stuff. Beat pillows. Sat in workshops with women twice my age going through their midlife crises. Tried some strange forms of therapy. It was the early 90s.

Then, I found my way into a yoga class. I remember lying in shavasana and realizing that all the grief I’d been carrying wasn’t just psychological. It wasn’t mental. It was embodied. Felt. Stored. For the first time, I understood what a feeling tone was. That moment changed everything, and I followed the thread.

I ended up in India for years, studying, unlearning, and practicing. At some point, I came back and finished college. I became an acupuncturist and then a coach.

Over time, I started to see the same patterns in the people who found me: high achievers. Perfectionists. People who knew how to perform, how to deliver, how to look like they had it together while quietly being run by anxiety, shame, and the fear that it could all fall apart if they stopped, people who had learned to survive by cutting off from themselves and people who didn’t know how to be.

So, I built a method to meet that. This work is a combination of my own lived experience and what I’ve seen over years of working with people like this.

It isn’t about fixing you. That part of you that wants to get it all handled once and for all is just another performance strategy. It makes sense. It’s how a lot of us survived. But I don’t feed that part.

What we’re doing is learning how to stay with what hurts long enough to actually shift the story. To bring the parts of you that got cut off because it wasn’t safe to be fully yourself. This is the slow work of coming home.

And yeah, sometimes you’ll still spin out. But you’ll build the skill of returning. Again and again. That’s what the practices I teach are for. Meditation, journaling, and nervous system work aren’t hacks. They’re tools to help you develop a different relationship with the fear, the shame, the pushing.

So you can stop being run by it. And start making choices from somewhere else.

This work is structured, but it’s not rigid. It’s vulnerable, but it’s not ungrounded. And it’s not for everybody. But if you’re done performing and ready to build a life that doesn’t cost you your self, we’ll go there.