Relational Field Work
From a very young age, in part due to early traumatic experiences, I learned to attune to the social and relational fields I was a part of, scanning for safety or danger, stability or chaos, coherence or dissonance (maybe you can relate) – this was a protective adaptation that in my deeper healing and integration of the last decade has evolved into a powerful ability and gift of generative loving presence in the various relational field contexts I work, live, and play in.
This writing is a partial reflection on experiences that have shaped the creation of Relational Fielding, a process-oriented approach to personal and collective embodiment, wakefulness, growth, and healing integration developed by Miriam and me over the last many years.
Being in the womb was my earliest relational field imprint and first circle of intimacy (I love you, mom!). My family system became a classroom for sharpening attunement and learning about love. And because those primary developmental fields, as with most of us, provided a lifetime of unconscious and subconscious material to work with, they were a precursor for me of relational field work as a conscious and intentional exploration of the relational dynamics and movements of life and love unfolding in, around, through, and as group fields.
I could fill chapters (and perhaps will someday) going deeper into what I’ve learned by reflecting on my immediate and extended family, marriages and divorces, being a partner and parent, attending school, being a resident of cities, a citizen of countries, and a member of humanity. And for this writing, I’ll focus on relational field experiences within the creative, contemplative, relational, and healing arts, which blend at the confluence of Relational Fielding.
When I started playing the cello at age 5, the Suzuki method changed my life, becoming foundational to my understanding of what is possible when we engage together, communally and creatively, toward the development of moral character and authentic expression over expertise and perfection. Attending group lessons with my fellow students to play songs together in unison was my first experience in relational meditation (outside of bedtime prayers and church). Centered around immersive learning, relational support, deep listening, reflection, repetition, memorization, and the cultivation of noble hearts, the Suzuki method was a gift to my soul. Playing the cello alone and in groups was a refuge from an unconscious baseline of fear that buzzed in my young body. Our community of practice in Duluth, Minnesota, became an enlivening, challenging, and transformative creative environment for growth and thriving.
Throughout my teens, I would occasionally pick up one of the books my dad was reading. Browsing would lead to chapters read. Three stand out as having the greatest impact: Stephen Mitchell’s translation of the Tao te Ching by Lao Tzu, A Brief History of Everything by Ken Wilber, and A New Science of Life by Rupert Sheldrake. Although I didn’t completely follow or understand everything I was reading, some transmission from each book seeped into my bodyworld, planting seeds of wonder and possibility as I slept. Morphic fields, integral theory, holons, and alignment with the flow of life (Thanks, dad!).
Singing in choirs brought experiences of embodied coherence closer to my core and continued training my ability to host the group field in my awareness. What a profound intimacy – human voices touching in midair, vibrating as one through waves of emotional resonance and in the poetic emergence of shared meaning-making through text. Sacred embodied pleasure and blissful transcendence. In choir, I learned to step into my leadership with more ease and confidence. The courage I often drew upon in daily life to help me override the fear of leaving my house alone (and the shame that didn’t allow me to admit that to anyone) began to ground itself as a more consistent resource in the context of larger group experiences.
Where choirs, orchestras, and other music-making ensembles taught me about collective voicing and the sounding of truth and aliveness, the theater arts invited me to move, relate, embody, speak, and improvise with more fluidity, spontaneity, clarity, courage, and power. In the theater, we tap into potent archetypal energies, becoming multitudes, expressing the shadow and light of humanity, and collaborating in a dynamic exploration of living story where the audience witnesses themselves in us as they feel us. We, in turn, discover more of who we are through feeling them taking us in. In the best moments, we relate to one another in personal, interpersonal, and transpersonal truth, becoming mirrors of humanity (and the more-than-human) for each other. In the theater, I sometimes touched a magical mid-heavenly state of immanence, while simultaneously confronting the drama (and little did I know, the trauma) of my inner world.
Through the creative and performing arts, I have been fortunate to spend decades in rehearsal rooms of intimate discovery, on stages of brave and open-heartedness, and in some of the most enriching connections of my life. In my late teens and young adulthood, I began directing theater, leading a children’s choir, and teaching children’s theater classes, expanding my capacity and perspective by stepping into different roles in these fields. Through it all, I continued applying the Suzuki method, immersing myself in the field, deeply listening, relating, reflecting, repeating, memorizing, and cultivating the character of my heart.
My dad worked as a Lutheran pastor (and a hospital chaplain) during my childhood. The church community was a consistent relational field in my life, influencing how I oriented to God, worship, prayer, service, forgiveness, grace, intergenerational community, and love. There was a genuine sense of people helping, caring for, and loving one another, and it was a community that cheered on the youth and supported creative expression. All of this was good for me. At the same time, aspects of that field felt stagnant to my spirit, and many of the dogmas were not aligned with a deeper call of my soul.
In my late teens, I began earnestly searching, seeking, reading, and experimenting with my spiritual and religious exploration. I was learning to listen to my inner voice and felt committed to heed the call. Psychedelics blew some doors wide open, though a couple of deep dives brought me closer to my core wounds than my psyche was prepared for, resulting in further distancing from my pain and attraction to a spiritual path and religious framework that both aligned with my inner values and reflected a trauma-responsive need to know and be on the side of THE TRUTH.
I joined a branch of the Baha’i Faith that included a quite intense apocalyptic vision of catastrophic unfolding, while simultaneously teaching principles such as the oneness of humanity, the elimination of prejudice, the harmony of science and religion, gender equality, universal education, and the need for universal justice. My spirit found freedom and wonder in the mystical and practical Baha’i writings. My traumatic imprints found false security in feeling as though I had discovered the capital ‘T’ Truth, where the outside world was always on the brink of catastrophe, which was really a reflection of how it felt for me internally, hidden beneath unconscious distancing, compressing, blanking, and freezing.
The nature of my core wounds included not knowing the truth of what had happened to me, being isolated with my pain, definitely never telling anyone, and doubting myself whenever I began to get close to my inner truth. So, outwardly, being part of a group that claimed certitude in knowing the divine Truth of God, which could bring safety and security to humanity, was very relieving and reassuring to my nervous system.
Unconscious spiritual bypassing aside, my 19 years in the Baha’i relational field was a time of exploring more of my agency and co-creativity as a teacher, personal dedication to awakening through meditation and prayer, communal commitment to serving a cause I believed in, maturation that came with becoming a new parent, and over time, many lessons in clarifying my boundaries and reclaiming my inner authority.
During those years, I helped raise two children, was married and divorced twice, enjoyed a resurgence of creativity and success in the realms of music and theater, and was eventually compelled by painful and tumultuous circumstances to return to the tender home of my body, follow the call of my soul further inward, and turn toward my trauma.
Around eight years ago, I committed to my own healing in service of illuminating, understanding, and integrating whatever it was in me that had contributed to so much conflict, reactivity, and challenge in my closest relationships during the subsequent two decades. This commitment led me to spend time in many transformational and healing relational fields, while simultaneously creating and leading many groups in response to my soul’s call.
I began leading and attending men’s groups, exploring various forms of mindful relating and presence-based connection with men in a variety of group experiences, retreats, and psychospiritual explorations of self-development and healing.
Receiving craniosacral therapy regularly led to shamanic journey experiences led to soul quest led to powerful ancestral wisdom connection and soul purpose revelations led to offering group gatherings online called An Invitation to Being, a precursor to Relational Fielding that combined practices of embodiment, attuned listening, present-moment conversation, and creative expression that included poetry and music.
I encountered Thomas Hübl’s work on personal, ancestral, and collective trauma healing, studied Transparent Communication with him in a group field of hundreds, as I simultaneously studied Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy with a cohort in a two-year container, while also exploring relational practices like Circling, Authentic Relating, and Relatefulness. I found in the practice and community of Relatefulness something that resonated beautifully with what I was developing, and I eventually became a facilitator with The Relateful Company, learning with my colleagues while contributing my wisdom to that field.
Miriam Kislak and I met in the relateful field, stepped into love, chose to develop a romantic relationship, and began collaborating. We co-created our business Heart of Presence, developed Presence Touch, and continued to offer distinct group sessions and processes that became the foundation for Relational Fielding. These sessions often blended meditation, embodiment exercises, attunement practices, relational mindfulness group explorations, and trauma healing processes.
We continue to offer presence- and wholeness-oriented explorations that combine aspects of the contemplative, relational, healing, and creative arts in innovative ways, incorporating the best of what we have learned and experienced throughout our lives, mirroring how we approach the sacredness of our relationship in daily life.
Miriam and I just returned home after a weeklong silent meditation retreat with our cohort of 200+ colleagues in the midst of the two-year Timeless Wisdom Training with teacher Thomas Hübl. I feel like a freshly born human, once again. Washed in presence and grace. My body renewed. Full of gratitude for the steadfast witnessing of my soul – my eternal friend.
That’s about all for now. It feels good to write about some of this, even as the words feel inadequate, incomplete. As much as I enjoy the transmission of written words, I love to be with you more closely. To sing and be together, feeling waves of inspiration descend into our bodies, rooting ourselves as the Earth, widening our hearts to offer the fresh joy of love and aliveness, and opening our arms to embrace and receive each other as relatives.
