16/07/2025
I lost a potential client this week.
It was a fortuitous meeting. There was a palpable spark of aliveness when she asked me about my work. An eagerness and a hunger.
She was the one who offered the words "somatic therapy". And I said, yes it could be called that. But I don't use those words because I'm not certified.
And I watched the light go out.
I wish people understood how little these pieces of paper mean.
How much the entire field of somatics has been appropriated from indigenous wisdoms around the world and locked behind the paywalls of the ivory towers.
The great scam of imperial capitalism robbing you of your body and then selling it back to you.
There is no certification that would allow me to do the work I am here to do.
This work rests on something older. Deeper. Wiser. More complete.
The teachers to whom I bow are not so concerned with trading papers.
And so I feel the pain of loss all the way down. Through the cold field of intellect. Through the desperate rage of separation. Through the aching void of emptiness. To rest in the space of loving acceptance for all that is.
You can find me there.
