Postmodern Solework
Postmodern Solework is the restoration of the contact surface between us and life.
The lesioning sole — spelled like the bottom of the foot — is the contact point between self and world. A lesioning sole is a compromised point of contact. Someone walking on an injured surface that can no longer make true contact with itself.
For the lesioning sole to make sense, we have to speak first to how experience actually works. Experience has to be metabolized, processed to completion, not just moved through. The soul, as the sum total of our full-spectrum existence, is what carries out that metabolizing. When the soul struggles to process what it's living through, a residue forms, a metabolic byproduct that doesn't fully digest. That residue accumulates, and the more it accumulates, the harder it becomes to digest anything new.
This is how vitality gets lost, cellularly and gradually, as our capacity to process and digest experience erodes. The modern world produces exactly this kind of indigestible residue: overuse of the intellect, repetitive thought loops, limiting beliefs, fear, hate, trauma, one-dimensional education, over-specialization, technology, a materialistic culture with no room for what can't be measured. This list comes from Dr. James Jealous, DO, a biodynamic osteopath whose work on soul, embryology, and the elemental body shaped the biodynamic craniosacral tradition, and aligns closely with what breathwork has taught me.
What can't be metabolized binds itself to the elemental substance of the body, the actual tissue and felt architecture of a person. This is what a lesion is on an energetic level: not damage in the ordinary sense, but unmetabolized experience, held in the body.
The lesioning sole and the lesioning soul are the same wound spelled differently. The sole meets the ground. The soul meets everything. Both are membranes between interior and exterior. Both get armored and form a protective callus.
Most of us have been walking on an injured sole for so long we've forgotten what uninjured contact feels like. The lesion runs the show so quietly that we mistake it for just being alive. It's in us, yes, but it's something we have built whole civilizations out of, so it's become its own feedback loop that exists now separately from us.
The restoration of the lesioned sole is a return to a contact surface that was always there underneath the compensatory barriers of protection.
Postmodern Breathwork is the process I use for direct 1-on-1 and group restoration.
Postmodern Breathwork
The word "breathwork" gets thrown around a lot these days, often without much precision. The simplest way to actually understand it: nearly every breathwork technique falls into one of two categories, slowing the breath down and breathing less than your average baseline, or speeding the breath up and increasing the total volume of air you're moving. Every technique, however it's branded, is really just some version of one of these two things.
But what matters more than the technique is this: the effect is different for every person, because everyone's baseline is different. There's no one-size-fits-all method. The same technique can produce completely different results depending on who's doing it and what they're thinking about while they do it. This is why what I offer doesn't fit neatly into a technique or a box.
Postmodern breathwork is what breathing looks like when the lesioning is no longer running the show.
Breath has always been the primary contact point between interior and exterior. Pre-modern breathwork knew this — spiritus, inspire, breath as spirit cultivation. The original meaning before it got severed. Whole, but unconscious of the split that was coming.
Postmodern breathwork isn't a technique. It's the natural consequence of restoration work — when the contact surface between self and world has been sufficiently recovered, and our experience of individuated parts harmonizes into direct experience. We can't learn it directly. We can only create the conditions for it to emerge.
The conditions are relational. Presence is what determines, inside the moment, whether a modality actually heals or just becomes another attempt that falls short. The clinical spine running underneath it draws from Tibetan subtle-body medicine, biodynamic craniosacral, Reich's de-armoring work, evolutionary biology, Somatoemotional Release, and the neuroscience of interoception, and most of all direct experience. This is what I call my personal clinical spine, and it is designed so that each person can swap out my metaphors for their own. The clinical spine is left at the door of the session because the way I teach Postmodern Breathwork is by inviting others onto the map, where we begin to explore the territory that society and structuralism have trained us to avoid.
Postmodern Breathwork involves breathing, of course, and in a group class context, it uses breathing and verbal cues as the main point of entry, with hands-on work being used additionally as needed and as able in the context of a group, whereas in 1-on-1 sessions, the work offers more hands-on work directly — a co-created process of paying attention to what's moving in the system. Not bodywork performed on a client but a shared act of noticing, where touch becomes a way of listening rather than doing, and dialogue and metaphor bridge the gap between purely somatic processing and cognitive integration.
This might mean working with the meeting place between the fascia, cerebrospinal fluid, the fluid body, the vagus nerve, the organs, the enteric nervous system, and the energy centers and diaphragms of the physical and energetic body, drawing from the same clinical spine as the breathwork but meeting it on all levels.
Underneath all of this, we're connecting with the felt sensation of space itself, creating space out of space. This bridges the gap between our past experience, with its gravitational pull, and the openness of future possibility, the forces of levity waiting on the other side.
The work is gentle because we're not trying to force the armor to yield. We're restoring the intelligence that was always there underneath it. The armor softens when the system feels met rather than managed.
What you leave with isn't a peak experience. It's a slightly more functioning instrument, a contact surface that can actually feel what it's touching.