Ecosomatics is a word that points to inseparability. Just like we may use the word “mindbody” to illustrate that the duality is an illusion, we use “ecosomatics” to illustrate that ecology, environment, and the lived experience of the body are inseparable...
“The wolf-spider…never builds its web between two hard objects like two stones. If it did this, the web would be rent by the wind. Instinctively, it builds its web between two blades of grass. When the wind comes, the web lowers with the grass until the wind has passed, then it comes back up and finds its point of balance and equilibrium again…
When we tighten or harden our views or beliefs, we lose all the softness and flexibility that makes for real shelter, belonging, and protection.”
-John O’Donohue, “Anam Cara”
Just for this very moment, be a spider web hovering between two blades of grass. Feel your suppleness as the wind moves you, maybe subtly, maybe with big or prolonged bursts. Feel your capability to bend with the wind, and your capability to come back.
I am offering somatic support sessions via video chat at my in-training rate of $35 per hour-long session. Based on your needs, desires, and learning styles, sessions can be tailored to focus on any number of tools, including movement re-patterning, guided somatic self-touch, mindfulness, rehabilitation, tuning into the wisdom of sensation, permitting bound up energy to move and cycle through/out of the body (gentle/slow trauma resolution), connecting to your environment/landscape, strategies for embodied resilience, dream dancing, and other possibilities. If you are interested in my previous work as a hypnotherapist, I offer a very limited number of sessions at a sliding rate of $45-90.
Feel to reach out with any questions to see if somatic sessions would be supportive for you at this time.
Yurt Style: Life Updates from Victoria
My partner and I built a yurt in November, here in Vermont. Living here, and going right into winter, has been full of challenges—and surely, growing opportunities. It’s a lot more snow than I’ve been accustomed to. As Slava Polunin (the poetic Russian clown) has described, snow is a symbol of everything we fear, but it is also magical, renewing, happiness.
There is an outdoor compost toilet here. There’s also an outdoor shower on the property; still no indoor shower. If the temperature is above freezing, it’s actually quite pleasant to shower among the snowy conifers. But I definitely miss having a hot, cozy shower whenever I want it.
I sense my comfort level adjusting in some ways. At first I almost missed “normal” toilets. Now I feel totally confused by “normal toilets,” not knowing where my poop is going. It’s nice to know my poop will turn into compost here. We haul a lot of water, which discourages us from wasting any. We chop wood for our wood stove, which lets us cook and stay warm. The trees, and the alchemy of fire, gifts us so much. Not that it’s easy—we have to spend a lot of time doing chores, but there is satisfaction in knowing more about the resources we use, to feel a bit more directly the ways our bodies depend so preciously on this earth. I have a lot to re-learn, still, as my body just barely begins to un-learn some of the postures of urbanized life. We’re still pretty “on the grid” though, for now. I'm in my "Saturn Return," so life itself feels very experimental and a little chaotic. Oh yeah, maybe also because of the pandemic!
I rang in 2021 by foraging Chaga on a nearby walk. This was my first time finding it for myself, locally. This powerful immune medicine emerges as a result of natural wounds in birch bark. Rumi has said (supposedly), “the wound is where the light comes in.” I guess it is also where the mycelium comes in!