october // there's something about the wind
october newsletter
nature is god moving through form, alive in every element.
the river is the water i feel most connected to ~ teaching me release, continuity, and the reminder that nothing stays the same. her waters show me that surrender isn’t collapse… it’s the decision to continue. the river does not cling to the stone that shaped it. she simply honors each curve and keeps flowing.
in much of my somatic work, i speak of contact and withdrawal ~ the rhythmic pulse of life moving toward and away, connecting and resting. the river embodies this perfectly. she teaches continuity without possession. she says:
you can let go without leaving yourself.
the mountains are my grounding, the place i return to when i need steadiness, and also to remember my own resilience. they are both my anchor and my escape. they’re where i go when the world feels too loud, when i need to find stability ~ but also when i crave aliveness. because up there, i can feel it all. the stillness, the ache, the awe.
her power isn’t in movement ~ it’s in presence.
when i return to the mountains, i remember that steadiness doesn’t mean resistance. the mountain doesn’t argue with the weather ~ she lets wind sculpt her edges… she allows every season to shape her without losing herself in the process.
the mountains are what teaches me to stay with intensity ~ to feel grief without collapsing, to hold joy without chasing, to sit in uncertainty without forcing clarity.
grounding, i’m learning, isn’t stillness. it’s the capacity to stay present through change.
it’s remembering that even as everything moves, there’s a part of me that remains.
and then there’s the wind… there’s something about the wind…
iansã, or oya, is the wind, the storm, the force of change. in the yorùbá and afro-brazilian traditions, she governs movement, transition, and the threshold between worlds, riding lightning, carrying the dead to their resting place, and dancing at the line between destruction and renewal.
iansã has a way of stirring things up in me, shaking up what i thought was fixed or what i’ve tried to forget, showing me again and again that transformation is its own kind of home. when i learned that she was my guiding orixá during my time in brasil earlier this summer, something in me exhaled ~ as if i finally had a language for the kind of chaos i’ve known intimately.
iansã interrupts patterns, blows doors open, clears what’s been stagnant. every time i resist her, every time i try to hold life still, she comes again to remind me:
transformation is not punishment. it’s a devotion to being alive.
the only constant is change. wind is this principle embodied… the cycle of life as perpetual movement.
it’s funny now, though at the time i didn’t laugh… how wind and the ever changing weather has played a big part in very key moments of my life this past year. these life interruptions caused by wind turned out to be a detour towards greater truth.
when i work with people in my somatic self inquiry sessions, i often begin with a simple gestalt-based inquiry: what’s your weather report?
it’s a way of turning toward the inner landscape without judgment. in this work, we practice awareness as contact ~ meeting what’s here in the moment, not to analyze it, but to include it. when i ask someone for their weather report, i’m not asking how they “feel” in words, but how the body might translate its truth into weather.
maybe the chest feels overcast. maybe the belly is humid with anticipation. maybe the mind is fogged in, visibility low. maybe the bones feel like mountains under snow.
this practice teaches us that awareness, when held without interference, has its own intelligence ~ it moves toward completion on its own, the way weather passes through the sky.
i used to think healing meant calm ~ that peace was the absence of movement. now i understand it differently. it is the willingness to be honest about your weather, to stop pretending that blue skies are the goal.
ianṣã keeps reminding me that storms are sacred, too.
change is not the interruption of home… change is home. the river keeps moving. the mountain keeps standing. the wind keeps arriving to touch what’s ready and carry it to its next form. nature is god moving through form, and we are not separate from that motion ~ we are one of its expressions.
a new playlist ~ descent
an october playlist! songs for a new season, shifting moods, and the slow descent inward. music for movement and balance ~ for finding steadiness within change.
the mirrored self: a virtual breathwork and self-inquiry journey
wednesday, october 15 // 5:30 pt
the mirrored self is a breathwork and self-inquiry workshop exploring the body as our most honest reflection. what we carry within ~ tension, memory, resilience ~ shows up in form. through breath and self inquiry, we’ll turn toward these reflections not to fix, but to listen.
this practice is an invitation to sit at the threshold between the seer and the seen ~ to witness yourself as both the one who notices and the one who is noticed. when you soften into this dual gaze, self-understanding becomes less about answers and more about relationship.
esalen retreat
the self, reframed: exploration through somatic self-inquiry
january 2 - 4, 2026 // big sur, california
a retreat devoted to meeting the many layers of who we are ~ through breath, movement, and self inquiry. together we’ll explore the pillars of the self and create space to listen inward, to move what’s been held, and to remember the wholeness that lives beneath our stories. held at the esalen institute in big sur, a sanctuary between mountain and sea, where natural hot springs flow over the cliffs… a place that feels like the ultimate exhale.
the book that began it all ~ my book of poems
the self, reframed: in the realm of raw
as the season turns and we begin our descent inward, i find myself returning to the words that first taught me how to stay close to what’s real. my book of poems, the self, reframed was written from that place ~ between breath and ache, softness and strength. each poem is an invitation to pause, to feel, to meet yourself with honesty and care.
ways to work together one-on-one
an embodied exploration of the self
for those called to dive deeper, i offer virtual private sessions as a space to listen inward ~ through breath, body, and inquiry. together we explore the layers of self that long to be seen, softened, or reclaimed.
there are a few pathways to work together:
• teacher mentorship ~ guidance for facilitators, teachers, and space-holders wanting to refine their voice, presence, and somatic depth
• somatic self-inquiry ~ a space for honest reflection, dialogue, and integration through body-based awareness
• breathwork ~ personalized journeys to clear, regulate, and reconnect through the wisdom of the breath
• movement ~ intuitive movement and embodiment sessions to restore flow and relationship with the body
each of these modalities can stand alone ~ or be woven together into a personalized process that meets you where you are.
integrative psychology institute
i’ve recently begun the psychosomatic course with ipi. if you’re a space-holder looking to deepen your work through a somatic lens ~ or simply someone wanting to understand the language of your own body more clearly ~ i can’t recommend this program enough.
it’s been such a grounded and eye-opening dive into how our physiology, psychology, and patterns of relating are all woven together.
please consider subscribing to seeds of the self. this is a place for my written garden of reflections and invitations to practice.
there’s a free tier for monthly writings, playlists, and offerings ~ and a paid option with access to deeper practices, in-depth reflections, discounts, and behind-the-scenes seeds in bloom. for those with the capacity to support the work more deeply, becoming a founding member includes a personalized playlist and a practice created to meet you exactly where you are.