In this inaugural post, I’m offering an introduction woven in the energy of a threshold. I have spiraled all around with the “what do I say here, what is this space for, what do I want it to be.” I have landed nowhere in particular except that I am in or around a threshold of becoming and returning. I am leaning into writing and sharing. I invite you to join me in this place- this place between places. I’ve heard this place beautifully described by Susan Clark, editor of Resurgence & Ecologist as a place where “change is already afoot but where ‘what was’ is not quite ended and ‘what will become’ has not yet arrived. I love writing, I have since I was a little kid. I’m excited to write, but my neurodivergent brain on fire at times, does not know when the mood will hit me, so bear with me if you get a slew of posts followed by a drought- this will likely happen!
If you’re interested in movement, myth, and healing practices- I’m excited to connect with you! I am passionate about partnering with people to reconnect with themselves through movement, awareness, cultivated presence, and a wild sense of freedom. I write with a mix of poetry, musings, and story telling. I love a good story! If you are curious about the intersections of movement, myth, and medicine I explain a bit more below.
Movement in nature allows my body to feel joy and discomfort simultaneously- which supports my reconnection to myself. I experienced years of chronic overwhelm and bodily bypassing with a mix of perfectionism, childhood trauma, and Ehlers Danlos Syndrome/Early Arthritis. Being in my body was very uncomfortable; and sometimes still is. Escaping or pushing through the pain furthered my disconnect. When moving outdoors, connected to the season, and allowing my pace to change with my body’s cues and being open to its messages was life changing. I am passionate about helping others return to themselves too- not by pushing through, but moving with the discomfort with care.
Myth shows up as the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and where we come from. Myths are powerful- they encode our bones and blood and they also tell a tale of resilience and strength. Not just what keeps us stuck or continuing in our own patterns but they enliven and fortify who we become. I believe we can tap into the power of myth to support our own healing and in turn the collective. My Celtic heritage and teachings of my maternal grandmother guide me today in the mythic threads of what keep us stuck and what helps us to thrive.
Medicine is a complex topic. When I work with medicine and healing approaches I blend science, acknowledge the social determinants of health, incorporate Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) approaches to meridian work, as well as brain-based approaches like Brainspotting and Internal Family Systems. Trauma symptoms are rarely treated entirely with one approach in my opinion. I weave and blend modalities that acknowledge the old and the new ways.
I keep thinking about thresholds—the ones in life and in nature. The ones woven all around how we walk through the timelines of our life. The threshold of independence and interdependence is a curious one. I had the support and privilege to spend a week at Broughton Sanctuary in Northern England last week. This 3,000 acre home to wildlife, ancient Yew trees, beavers, birds, moss and slugs showed me the embodiment of land awakening from winter at the threshold of spring and it taught me how I hold this threshold in my own body.
This feels like a place between what was, what is, and what could be.
The place between these places stirs a bit of whimsical magic in my awareness, some call it the liminal place—it whispers possibility. Courage to embark forward into an unseen possibility requires trust. Trust that a story is unfolding or a path is ahead, but it’s not quite clear. Since returning from Broughton, the land around me has been shrouded in fog and mist. I literally cannot see even the house beside me in my neighborhood each morning—like the land is reminding me of this threshold of unknowing, the path forward is unseen, yet it is there.
John O’Donohue, an Irish teacher and poet posed the following questions in his book “To Bless The Space Between”-
Which threshold am I now standing?
At this time in my life, what am I learning?
Where am I about to enter?
What is preventing me from crossing my next threshold?
What gift would enable me to do it?
Thresholds teach us a lot about our response to change. They teach us if we push forward or if we stand back, or if we ask lots of questions before we act. If we need to know before we proceed- if our need to know stops us or if our curiosity pushes us forward. Thresholds are teachers…what might the threshold in front of you be?
Web of Care – Invitation
Around the Summer Equinox and the Winter Solstice, I open a ritual space for providers, caregivers, bodyworkers, activists, and creatives who are living and working inside The Web of Care. Those who tend to bodies, engage with movements, communities, and are tasked with the care of others. Those who give, organize, listen, hold, and build- often without enough support beneath them.
These gatherings are an invitation into a web of embodied community care.
We begin by arriving in the body. Through somatic grounding and gentle ritual, we listen for what the season is asking of us- where balance wants to be restored, where rest is required, where life is quietly reorganizing itself.
This is a trauma-informed space where nervous systems are respected, pacing is slow, and choice is central. Business, creativity, and care are held together—not as productivity, but as living practices shaped by capacity, consent, and connection.
There is space here for:
- settling into breath, sensation, and presence
- reflecting on work and livelihood through a trauma-aware, embodied lens
- open, unstructured time for movers, makers, healers, and helpers to meet without agenda
- witnessing one another as whole beings, not roles or outputs
Summer Solstice calls us into balance, reciprocity, and shared light—how we are seen, how we share resources, how we sustain one another in motion.
Winter Solstice invites stillness, inward listening, and trust in the dark—how we rest, compost, and tend what is becoming beneath the surface.
These gatherings are not about fixing or striving.
They are about remembering.
Remembering that care is seasonal.
That community is built through presence.
That we do not have to do this work alone.
Come as you are. Come with what you’re carrying.
Let the season hold part of it with you.
For 2026 The Seasonal Calls are:
Summer Solstice 1 p.m. EST June 22, 2026
Winter Solstice 1 p.m. EST December 21, 2026
Please email me at chelsea@traumainformedbodywork.com for more information