For someone who has never heard of somatic healing, how would you describe it?
Somatic healing is learning the language of your body—the contractions, the expansions, the pauses between, and the wisdom in it all.
It’s not about controlling or fixing. It’s about listening.
Your nervous system is like an underground spring—flowing even when obstructed, carving new pathways unseen.
Your patterns aren’t obstacles—they’re adaptations. Maps of where you’ve been and portals to what’s possible.
Neuroplasticity shows us that just as survival rewires the brain, so does healing.
This work isn’t about feeling different. It’s about feeling more YOU—(re)membering who you are beyond conditioning, beyond survival. Together, we relearn curiosity, creativity, compassion, and commitment—so trust becomes embodied, not just understood.
What’s a common myth about somatic work that you’d love to debunk?
That it’s about calming down.
This is why I don’t use the term “regulation” often—A regulated nervous system isn’t one that avoids stress, grief, or anger—it’s one that dances with them.
Each nervous system state has a purpose. These responses are protection, not problems. I often say—the body goes where it knows. Your nervous system follows what’s familiar, not what’s functional. If a cycle doesn’t get to complete, the energy stays—not as memory, but as tension, exhaustion, the breath you don’t realize you’re holding.
And that affects everything.
So we don’t bypass. We don’t force “calm.” We build capacity.
Anger is as necessary as joy. Activation as essential as stillness.
In a session, we might be rolling on the floor, punching a pillow, breathing through discomfort, or laughing until we cry. It’s dynamic—just like the body, creativity, and the earth.
Healing isn’t about feeling “better” or fixing symptoms. It’s about being with what is—and expanding what’s possible.
How does movement and body awareness help release emotions that talking alone can’t?
Emotion is energy in motion.
Your body doesn’t process life through words—it speaks through sensation, impulse, movement.
A clenched jaw. A breath held too long. The way your shoulders lift before you even know why.
Every time you swallowed a “no,” held back a sob, or froze when you needed to run—your body adapted. It didn’t just store the experience; it shaped itself around it.
Unfinished responses don’t disappear. They shape us. Not as memory, but as posture, breath, movement—the way we hold ourselves without even realizing.
We don’t just carry wounds; we grow around them. And sometimes, what once kept us safe becomes what keeps us small.
Talking names the story. Somatics asks—where, how, now?
Where does this live in your body? How is it asking to move?
Emotion—our aliveness—requires both structure and fluidity, the full exhale and inhale of existence.
Your nervous system isn’t trying to “release” anything—it’s trying to complete what was interrupted, to restore coherence.
Like mycelium weaving unseen beneath the forest floor, your body adapts, reorganizes, and builds new pathways of connection.
If you wanted to run but couldn’t, your legs might tremble when you finally allow movement. If you held back grief, tears might come—not as something leaving you, but as something resolving.
Your body isn’t a machine that flushes out stress like a reset button—it’s an ecosystem that regenerates. It doesn’t just need to feel safe. It needs to know it’s safe. Rather than standing at the edge, analyzing the waves, somatics invites us to dive in, to swim, to feel the current move with us as we honour each tide.
Really, it’s about capacity. About trying on new shapes, new ways of being, new ways of belonging to yourself and the more-than-human-world.
What was rigid softens. What felt impossible becomes choice.
Healing isn’t about letting go. It’s about arriving—fully, in rhythm with yourself, nature, and the unseen.
Not release—reclamation.
Not escape—reorientation.
Not becoming—remembering.
Not just surviving—but thriving, co-creating space to express your whole, expansive truth.
Can you share a powerful transformation story (yours or a client’s) where somatic work created a breakthrough?
A client came to my workshop after years of chronic pain from a motor vehicle accident and CPTSD.
They had tried everything—chiropractic, acupuncture, massage—nothing lasted.
In session, something shifted. They didn’t try to force release. They didn’t try to make the pain disappear.
They just listened. Moved. Met their body where it was.
Weeks later, they said:
“The pain that had been under my collarbone and shoulder for years… is gone.”
Not because they ‘let it go.’ But because they met themselves—not with tension, but with trust, maybe for the first time.”
If you could give one message to someone struggling to feel at home in their body, what would it be?
You don’t have to love your body to belong to it.
You don’t have to feel good to be whole.
Your body isn’t demanding change. It’s offering conversation.
Instead of waiting to feel different, start where you are.
A tree doesn’t force its growth. It leans into the rhythm of becoming.
