Something is always organizing your experience.
Your attention, your patterns, your sense of what's possible — none of it is random. It follows a logic shaped by what you've felt most deeply, most repeatedly, most in the body. Most of us never learn to read that logic. We mistake it for personality, or fate, or just the way things are.
I study the structures underneath experience — how meaning accumulates weight, how the body registers what the mind hasn't named yet, how attention organizes itself around centers of gravity we didn't consciously choose. I call this Inner Gravity Theory, and it shapes everything I teach.
My work moves across three registers: philosophical, somatic, and mythic. Not as separate disciplines — as different languages for the same thing. The essay and the movement class and the symbolic practice are all pointing at the same question: what is actually organizing this life, and how do I work with it directly?
If you're here because something feels misaligned — or because you sense there's a more coherent way to live inside your own life — you're in the right place.
