When I was young I insisted on only including perennial houseplants into my spaces, they were predictable and long-lasting. I used to avoid buying flowers. Their mortality as big, beautiful blooms invited me into a space of confrontation with the truth of impermanence. And naturally, I evaded the discomfort that comes from contemplating the inevitable interim of inhabiting this body, the finite nature of this life. 

Fast forward a decade or so and I began a practice of selecting a posy of flowers each week and placed them on the windowsill. And I began to witness them for what they truly are and to appreciate each one of their phases — from bud, to bloom to a pile of perished petals.

They are a mirror. A reflection of the dynamic delicacy that is my own life, occupying this very temporary, decaying human body, exquisite and ever-changing nonetheless but by no means everlasting. 

This practice brought me down to Earth, humbled me towards the soil and nothing has been the same ever since.

I practice witnessing people as flowers and flowers as people.

In all their beauty and folding, blooming and transforming. Exposing the truth that there is no other, because as long as we inhabit these flesh temples we call human bodies, we are bound and belonging to Nature. Because just like the flowers we too are formulated from the unrefined cycles, seasons and seeds of the sacred.

Constantly in flux with the fleeting tenderness of N O W. 

I am interested and inspired by this fluid, spirallic nature of simply existing.

Of the intrinsic and interdependent rhythms of the body, the Earth, of sensation and emotion.

I am interested in what unfolds when we move.

When people sway like a blade of grass in the summer breeze, or crash like waves on the shore. As lightning striking from a thundering sky or as the serenity of still water. I dream for people to embrace their body as the Earth’s body and to sense the freedom of the heart that unfurls when one does. 

See, I am lover of liminal spaces.

I am interested in the ways in which the mystery and mysticism of being expresses itself within the possibilities of mundane subtleties. Inspired by the intricacies of the elements at play and how we are the culmination of this dance.

I am enlivened by the interconnectivity that is birthed through weaving the threads of our unique experience into a medicinal tapestry that wraps us in our own truth. 

Thus, I perceive each bodywork session as a practice in deep listening. To support the spaciousness that each particular and preeminent body needs in order to fully express itself.

To speak the unseen.

To tell the stories that are circulating within its marrow. To journey into a state of self-restoration, self-healing. To amend the forgotten parts of self to re-member the innate essence of wholeness. Its inherent and deeply rooted wisdom in returning to our natural state as a moving, feeling, breathing poem and prayer. 

I thank the flowers every day for initiating me onto the path of remembrance and for embodying the beauty that unfurls from the uniqueness and utter perfection of this existence in this body.

And I thank you for sharing in this epic unfolding with me.