Author · Elder · Death Midwife
Some women arrive at a certain age and quietly disappear.
I went the other direction.
After sixty-four years in California — as a nature child, a corporate climber, a CEO’s wife, a mother, a grandmother, a woman who collected bones in secret and built a barn full of animal spirits — I divorced, packed up, and started over in Colorado.
I didn’t do it because it was easy. I did it because I had spent a lifetime learning to follow what is true over what is comfortable. And I wasn’t finished yet.
I am Cindie White. I am an author, an elder, and a death midwife. I have been doing deep inner work for over forty years — long before there was a name for it or an app for it or an influencer selling it. I have lived through depression, reinvention, loss, grief, divorce, and the particular loneliness of a life that looks perfect from the outside. I know the cost of performing a self that isn’t yours. And I know what it feels like to finally stop.
People find me. In California they found me for decades. Now they find me in Colorado, in a city where I knew no one, because something in them recognizes something in me — a fully present quality, a willingness to see clearly without flinching, a lap that is safe.
If you are here, perhaps something in you recognizes it too.
Awards & Recognition:
Beverly Hills Book Awards — Women’s Issues · Winner
Beverly Hills Book Awards — Spirituality · Winner
Living Now Book Award — Inspirational Memoir · Bronze
National Indie Excellence Award — Memoir · Finalist
San Francisco Book Review · Five Stars
“Confessions of a Bone Woman makes us remember the hunger and the howl we’ve spent all our lives trying to suppress.”
— Alison Nappi, creator of The Wildness Deck
“A reckoning of an ancient soul making her way through the modern world.”
— Pixie Lighthorse, author of Boundaries and Protection
A Memoir for Every Woman Who Has forgotten Her Own Nature
She was raised to be the darling — accomplished, beautiful, and perfectly behaved in public. She married well, lived beautifully, and smiled at all the right moments. In the gleaming world of Silicon Valley wealth and status, Cindie White had everything a woman was supposed to want. And no one wanted to hear that it wasn’t enough.
Everything shifts when her hand wraps around an ancient buffalo bone and electricity moves through her body. What awakens is not a hobby but a calling — a secret sacred practice of gathering bones, remembering the ancient arts of restoration, tracking wolves, and letting the animal kingdom speak a language her civilized world had spent decades trying to silence.
Bone by bone, she pieces herself back together.
Confessions of a Bone Woman is the memoir of a woman who was given every external gift and had to fight to find her own voice anyway. It is for every woman who has been told she has no right to her own hunger — and who suspects that somewhere beneath the performance, her wild and knowing self is still waiting.
On Being an Elder
In the old traditions, every community had elders. Not celebrities or experts or coaches with certifications. Elders — men and women who had lived long enough, suffered consciously enough, and paid close enough attention to see life clearly and hold others wisely.
We have largely lost that in modern culture. People live far from their clans. Families scatter. The wisdom that used to move naturally between generations now has nowhere to land.
I offer what elders have always offered. Not a program. Not a formula. Not advice about what you should do.
I offer presence. Deep listening without judgment or agenda. The ability to see what is actually happening beneath the story you are telling yourself. And occasionally — when the moment calls for it — a word or a question that shifts something.
Sometimes being truly heard is enough. Sometimes it opens a door. I don’t control the outcome. That is yours.
If you feel called to sit with me — in person in Boulder, or by video — I am available for unhurried two-hour conversations. There is no intake form and no program to enroll in. Just two people in honest conversation.
I am also a death midwife.
I sit with people and animals who are dying — and with the people who love them — and help make the passage as conscious, peaceful, and sacred as it can be. This is not clinical work. It is the most intimate and profound work I know.
If you or someone you love is approaching the end of life and you are looking for a compassionate, experienced presence, I would be honored to be of service.
I am new to Boulder and still finding my footing here. But the conversations have already begun — in living rooms, over long dinners, in the particular way that happens when someone needs to talk and somehow finds their way to the right person.
If this page found you at the right moment, I am glad.
— Cindie