Articles

There comes a point in healing where adding more techniques doesn’t create more change. Most of the people drawn to my work already know this — intellectually, clinically, and often through personal experience. Insight alone doesn’t settle the nervous system. More tools don’t necessarily bring more safety. And effort, especially sustained effort, can sometimes deepen exhaustion rather than resolve it. At a certain stage, what the system needs is not more work — it needs a different context. This is where retreats, when held with care and integrity, can become profoundly supportive.

For decades, healing models treated the mind and body as separate domains. Psychology spoke to thoughts and emotions, while medicine addressed tissues, organs, and chemistry. Yet anyone who has lived through chronic stress, trauma, or persistent pain knows this division is artificial. Fear tightens the chest, abdomen, back and knees Grief weakens the lungs. Excessively worrying will hurt the digestion, stomach and spleen Anger tightens the jaw, shoulders and liver I constantly witness how Long‑term stress reshapes posture, breath, immune function, and even identity. At the center of this lived reality sits a nerve few people truly understand — the vagus nerve. This single neural pathway may be the most important biological bridge between experience and physiology, between memory and metabolism, between safety and survival. In my clinical work with trauma, chronic pain, and nervous‑system dysregulation, I’ve seen again and again that sustainable healing does not come from insight alone. It comes from restoring regulation, and the vagus nerve is a primary gateway. First, let's dive into the anatomy of this extraordinary nerve. Watch this great video tutorial

Most people think of muscles as mechanical structures that move bones. In my 25 years of working with the human body, nervous system, and subtle physiology, I have come to understand that muscles are far more than biomechanics. They are living expressions of our history, our emotions, our survival strategies, and our deepest patterns of being. Among all the muscles of the human body, none is more profound, more ancient, or more neurologically significant than the iliopsoas.

Going through a global pandemic that we all went through, wars, economic and environmental hardships, social unrest. I am sure you all agree, we live in a collective fear and the uncertainty that it brings into our everyday life.

For years, I was taught the simple rule: ice for injuries, heat for aches. But in my decades of working with the body, exploring trauma, and experimenting with healing methods around the world, I’ve learned it’s not that simple. Both heat and cold have their place—and using them wisely can change how quickly and deeply your body recovers.

As therapists, bodyworkers, somatic practitioners, or healers, we often find ourselves standing at the brink of someone else’s pain—navigating it with empathy, curiosity, and clinical expertise. We’ve been trained to listen, to regulate, and to equip our clients with tools for healing. We delve into trauma theory, study the latest neuroscience, and master various techniques to guide others through their journeys.

This time of year has always meant something deeper to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent decades working with pain — physical, emotional, ancestral — and I’ve learned to listen closely to the rhythms of the body and the seasons. July is not just about warmth and sunlight. It’s about melting what’s been frozen, thawing what’s been braced for too long, and listening to what your nervous system is truly asking for. And often… It’s not asking for more effort. It’s asking for release.

There’s a particular kind of silence that enters the treatment room when someone is burned out. It's not restful. It’s hollow. And it’s familiar—not just in my clients, but in myself and in the colleagues I’ve mentored over the decades. As body-based therapists, we’re trained to listen to the body, but we’re rarely taught to listen to our early signs of depletion or how deeply trauma threads itself into the patterns of burnout.

Learn about the profound benefits of castor oil as expounded by a knowledgeable clinician with extensive experience.

At one point in my early twenties, I was a complex patient who had chronic conditions trying many treatments and therapies and then discovering underneath all of it were traumas. This led to 25 years of trying to understand the complexity of trauma and many of our "diseases".

We all get sick; it's something that comes with when you have a family, kids, and work with people. But what I have learned over time is that it does not have to last for as long as some are experiencing if you know what to do, especially when the first symptoms appear.

As a pain expert and Shiatsu therapist with over 25 years of experience, I've witnessed the debilitating effects of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (CTS) on many individuals (Including health practitioners & therapists)