Mindy Amita Aisling

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United States
Bend, OR
Mindy Amita Aisling

Coach + Creative | ICF Certified. I help humans live and share their stories. I feel the most alive and authentic when I am helping people succeed.
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Coaching for clarity within, marketing for expression beyond - where soul meets strategy, and creativity fuels growth. My mission is to support others to courageously reach their goals while creating more ease, flow & peace in their lives. Through coaching, marketing & branding, small business support services, or fitness training - I love helping people thrive in their life and work. When I witness the people I work with smiling more, meeting their goals, building their businesses, or aligning with who they truly are... it fills me up and I feel like I am bubbling over with jubilation. I am passionate about the human experience, authenticity, communication (both interpersonal & as it relates to marketing), conflict resolution, small business success, entrepreneurship, nature, stewardship for our planet.. and most of all: kindness. I am an ICF Certified Life & Leadership Coach, a Licensed Mediator, an NFPT Fitness Trainer, and an Entrepreneurial Maven. (I also have a brilliant ADHD brain that allows me to joyfully & effectively dedicate my heart and passion to a variety of areas that all share the same niche: helping others succeed)

If you find yourself needing a little extra support in your life or business right now, please reach out to me. I would love to support you. It's what I'm here (on this planet) to do. ❤️

11/06/2025

Being a homemaker is my first vocation and my favorite one. I love coaxing a house into a home with small, steady rituals that no algorithm can measure. I love chopping onions while the cats wind around my ankles, simmering soup that makes the whole place smell like safety, folding warm laundry into neat little stacks of tenderness, sweeping the floor until it shines back a quiet yes. I love knowing where the good mugs live, the ones that make tea taste like comfort and mornings feel like a soft beginning.

This is not about perfection or performance. It’s about care as a daily art form. It’s stocking the fridge with future kindness. It’s wiping down counters and wiping away the day. It’s lighting a candle before dinner so our nervous systems remember to sit down inside our bodies. It’s cooking and cleaning and tending to the people I love, including the version of me who needs gentleness to keep going.

Homemaking is where I practice everything I teach in my work: presence, integrity, slow living, beauty without the hustle. The way I salt a sauce is the way I build a brand- patiently, tasting as I go, trusting what feels right. The way I fold towels is the way I coach- quiet, attentive, making space for what matters. The way I sweep a floor is the way I create content- clearing the noise so something honest can glow.

Here is my truth: a well-kept home is not small. It is a sanctuary, a studio, a school for the soul. It is the root system that lets the rest of my life grow tall. May the work of caring be seen as the powerful, practical magic that it is. May our homes hold us while we do the brave thing of living.

11/05/2025

Hope. It’s not for the faint of heart. ❤️

11/05/2025

Lately I’m in love with the ordinary magic of my life. The way sunlight makes a cathedral. The way routine turns into ritual if I pay attention. The way creativity keeps finding me in the in-between: editing a reel, sketching a storyboard, playing with a hook that makes a stranger feel seen. People think UGC and social media are noise; I think they’re instruments. In the right hands, they make music. I like being those hands.

Coaching still feels like holy work—two humans telling the truth until something unlocks. I don’t want to sell people a shinier mask; I want to help them hear their own voice, the one that says, “You already know.” I’ve learned that success built on self-abandonment collapses. Success built on self-respect settles into the body and stays.

Here’s what I’m practicing right now: simple, undeniable care. Drink water. Tell the truth. Choose the project that aligns, not the one that impresses. Move my body. Let joy be a metric. Make marketing feel human, not haunted. Create from love, not fear. Rest like it’s part of the job—because it is.

If you’re here for a life that fits—the slow, sovereign kind where your work matches your nervous system and your values—I’m glad we found each other.

11/04/2025

November invites me outside and the cold kisses my cheeks awake. Breath turns visible, little ghosts drifting into the gray-blue air. The trees stand like quiet witnesses, bare and honest. I sit, close my eyes, and let the chill do what it does best: clarify.

Meditation in the cold is different. No arguing with your thoughts -your body handles that. The air is so crisp it edits you. Inhale: pine, wet earth, the metallic hint of winter moving in. Exhale: whatever I don’t need to carry. My shoulders drop. My jaw unclenches. Somewhere a crow gives commentary. A far-off dog announces the day. The world is awake enough to keep me company, soft enough to leave me alone.

I feel the old strength of the earth under everything. My hands warm around the thermos like a tiny campfire. The first streak of sun threads through the branches and lands on my face—one golden ribbon tying me to the moment. It’s simple and extravagant at the same time.

Ten minutes out here changes the math. The cold teaches my nervous system a new language: present, steady, here. I don’t need the day to be different. I just need to be inside it. When I stand, my feet feel sure. My mind feels quieter. Breakfast tastes miraculous. Even the to-do list looks less bossy.

If you need a doorway this week, try an outdoor sit. Layer up. Bring tea. Let your breath fog the air like a prayer you can see. Feel the ground, the cold, the sky doing its big quiet job. Let November sharpen you into yourself—and then go inside, cheeks stung pink, heart warmed from the inside out.

11/04/2025

Here’s the truth: being a creator (or just using social to market your art or business) means you post consistently, not confidently. Confidence is a lagging indicator; it shows up after the reps. Consistency is the leading one; it shows up when you don’t feel ready and you hit “share” anyway.

Some days you’ll write something that hums through your bones. Other days it’s a quiet breadcrumb, more practice than masterpiece. Both count. The algorithm may not clap, your inner critic might hiss, and a few posts will make you want to hide under a blanket forever. You don’t. You breathe. You edit if needed. You learn. You keep going.

This is craft, not magic. Frequency teaches your nervous system that visibility won’t kill you. Repetition teaches your voice to trust itself. Iteration turns “Is this good enough?” into “This is who I am.” You don’t need to feel like a lighthouse to light the way—sometimes you’re just a match struck in the dark, and even that tiny flame invites the next one.

So post the imperfect reel. Share the in-progress painting. Publish the caption you’re 73% sure about. Let the work be a living thing that grows in public. Your future confidence is being built by today’s small, consistent courage.

If you needed permission, here it is. Show up, even wobbly. Save this for the days you forget. And if you want a gentle nudge toward rhythm, I invite you to pick a simple cadence you can actually keep—then keep it for 30 days. The art will meet you where you show up.

11/03/2025

Four pieces. One favorite. 👀

I’m sharing the Voices of Wisdom collection from Sarah Andreas Art in this reel—each piece has its own pulse: a nudge toward truth, a breath of courage, a reminder to keep going, a softer way to hold yourself. Watch the video, feel which one lands in your body, and then tell me…

Which one do you think is my favorite—1, 2, 3 or 4?

Drop your guess in the comments and then tell me which one is YOUR favorite.
I’ll reveal mine tomorrow, along with why it got under my skin (in the best way).

Plus, make sure to follow Sarah at , and check out her website at sarahandreasart.com! 🙏💗

11/03/2025

If my soul had a sound, it would be a jazz quartet playing in the corner of a French café.

There’s a bass keeping time with the pulse of the world, steady but soft. A saxophone drifts through conversation like smoke -sometimes tender, sometimes wild, always unapologetically alive. The piano handles the mood swings: a little melancholy, a little mischief. The drums flirt with chaos but never quite cross the line. Together, they make a kind of beautiful imperfection -structured enough to hold form, free enough to surprise itself.

That’s me. I’m made of rhythm and improv. Of mornings that start in silence and afternoons that end in laughter. Of a mind that likes the sheet music but a spirit that keeps rewriting it mid-song. Some days my solo is smooth; some days it squeaks. Either way, the band plays on.

And the café? That’s life. Cups clinking, rain on the window, strangers sharing space in the hum of something bigger. Nobody’s in a hurry. Everyone’s a little undone. And in the background, my soul keeps swinging—improvising, feeling, trusting the next note will find me when it’s time. 💗

11/03/2025

If you keep your eyes open, you can find some of your greatest teachers in unlikely places. Every person who hurt me has been a teacher. The ones who dismissed me, doubted me, betrayed me, or annoyed the living hell out of me — they taught me where my boundaries were, what my values meant in practice, and how to stand up for myself when it wasn’t easy or pretty.
The jobs that drained me showed me the price of abandoning my body for a paycheck. The people who didn’t believe in me taught me how to believe in myself louder.

My anxiety has taught me that I cannot think my way to safety; I have to feel my way there.

Failure has been a brutal and brilliant sculptor. Every collapse carved out more space for grace, humility, and truth. Grief cracked me open so wide that life could finally reach me. Aging is the daily invitation to love the woman I’m still becoming — softer, slower, wiser, more real.

These are the teachers that didn’t show up in classrooms. They showed up in heartbreak, in sleepless nights, in bathrooms where I cried on the floor, in quiet mornings where I whispered to myself, You’re still here. Keep going.

And I have.
And I will.

Because sometimes the path to wholeness is paved with people and moments that shatter you, only to return you to the raw beauty of who you were before you learned to hide.

The human experience isn’t supposed to me only joy and “good vibes’ - it supposed to be ALL of it, the entire spectrum of emotion. And when we stop avoiding that - suddenly life opens up in new ways.

Address

Bend, OR

Website

http://www.mindyaisling.com/

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