"I can not explain the sweetness of seemingly mundane moments, like when I get to dance, walk, chop wood, garden, play with my dog… there’s a tender cherishing that has arisen.” ~from a recent text thread with a friend about my possible diagnosis.

Hello Reader,

TL:DR or TL;WR

Personal reflections on the emotional and physical experience of waiting for a possible diagnosis of a rare degenerative brain disease (SCA27b).

I explore how embodying the unknown fosters a deeper relationship with death, presence, and emotional honesty.

I discover how embodying uncertainty invites us to surrender control, feel our feelings fully, and trust ourselves to meet whatever comes, while still preparing practically and cherishing life as it is, right now.

I also shared in-person and online dates for dance offerings AND introduced a new body of work called em•body.

Here we are. October has arrived.
Fall has officially entered the Western Hemisphere, and I can feel it settling into my body.
This year, there is a surprising grief in that arrival.

I’ve always loved Fall—its golden glow, the rustle of change, the invitation inward—the cozy sweaters.
But now, I notice something else: a subtle tension, a quiet unease.
I suspect it’s tied to the uncertainty I feel in the lengthening shadows—what Fall seems to usher in, what Winter may take.

Preparation

In September, I spent time chopping wood—stacking it neatly, preparing for the coming cold.
And on one particular day, mid-chop, I was suddenly struck by awe:
At my body.
At my coordination, strength, and balance.
At my ability to listen to the wood—just as my Elders taught me—to feel the grain, to know where to split, to know when to stop.

That moment was a quiet prayer.
A reverence for what my body can still do.

That same month, I learned I’d been approved for funding to get genetic testing for SCA27b, a rare, degenerative brain condition that can impact balance, coordination, and movement. As mentioned here.
My blood has been sent to Chicago. The results won’t be back for several more weeks.

Since the summer of 2024, I’ve been sitting with the probability that this diagnosis may be mine.
And this is what I want to talk about in this newsletter:
The practice of living in the unknown.
Embodying uncertainty—and, through that, finding possibilities.

Embodying an Evolving Body

To live in uncertainty is to stay present with the body as it changes—
To witness how it deconstructs and reconstructs in cyclical, chaotic ways.
To feel the web of aliveness that pulses beneath every ache, every ability, every loss, every miracle.

Halfway through writing this newsletter, I drove to visit my family in Strathmore, Alberta—
Specifically, my dad, whose health is steadily impacted by this same diagnosis.
As I watched the way SCA27b has shaped his life, a quiet question emerged:
Is this my future?

Ah… more uncertainty to sit with.

Unknown Nectar

Last year, my word of the year was Unknown.
This year, it’s Nectar.

I was surprised to discover that the etymology of “nectar” comes from:
nek – death
tar (from tere) – to overcome, to cross over

Nectar: to overcome death. To pass through it. To cross the threshold.

There are inherent themes of thresholds and temporality that come from the word Nectar. It sounds like such a sweet word… and yet, this year, it’s deepened my relationship to both the unknown and death.

To embody the unknown, we must cultivate an intimacy with endings. With death.
With the cyclical, often invisible ways death visits us daily.
The end of Summer to make space for Fall.
The death of illusions that uphold systems of oppression.
Of beliefs, identities, relationships, or protective parts that no longer serve.
The quiet death of garden plants, of sunlight, of certainty.

We live in a culture that fears death and avoids aging.
And yet, the more we enter into the realities of death, the more we loosen its grip on our living.

Emotional Freedom

To live inside the unknown is to feel.
Deeply. Honestly. Without needing to fix or make sense of it all.

For me, this has looked like creating space inside my body—
A kind of inner cauldron that can hold my emotional sensations until they shift on their own.

Sometimes my emotions ask to be danced with.
Sometimes they bring me to the floor.
Sometimes they arrive in quiet waves, and sometimes in thunder.

There is no fixing this situation.
There is only presence.
There is only practice.

I often wonder:
What would be possible if we didn’t spend so much energy resisting our feelings?
What might we heal if we welcomed them instead?

In a world that often numbs and distracts,
It is revolutionary to be a deeply feeling human.

Surrendering to the Unknown

To embody uncertainty is to surrender to the truth that we don’t know.
Not really.
Not what tomorrow holds. Not what will stay or fall apart.
Not what we’ll gain or lose.

This can feel terrifying in a culture that sells us certainty.
But I’ve found a subtle freedom in the not-knowing.

It’s not trust in what comes next—
But trust in myself to meet whatever comes next.

There is both softness and structure in this practice, which supplies us with possibilities.

There is a logical component too, which asks:
What do I actually have agency over right now?

I can feel my feelings.
I can move my body.
I can drink water.
I can connect with a friend.
I can feed myself.
I can breathe.

For me, it also looks like preparing for a future I may or may not meet:
Securing long-term disability insurance.
Engaging my vestibular system and cerebellum through diverse movement.
Prioritizing sleep. Learning new things to keep my brain forming new neural pathways.

This is not denial. This is not fear.
It’s devotion.

It’s the practice of living fully, even in the in-between.

Dancing in the Possibilities

And so, until I know, I will continue not knowing.
I will keep dancing.
Keep walking.
Keep chopping wood.
Keep cherishing each sweet, mundane, miraculous moment.

No matter what the results say. Even in grave news, possibilities exist, and to lose my connection to that feels like a dishonour.

Question:

How do you relate to the unknown in your own life right now? Are there ways you've found to be closer to it? Have you also found a sweetness in the midst of uncertainty?

Hit reply, I'd love to know your thoughts.

Here’s October's DJ set titled: Embodying Uncertainty

Your invitation: Bring your awareness to something that feels uncertain. Focus on your breath and how its rhythm moves your rib basket. Then let your ribs guide the movement of your body in ever-increasing ways, from head to toes. Listen to the layers in the music and let it inspire your body to create shapes and find its edges.

Remember, there's no right or wrong way to move.

EVENTS

Check out my new events page to stay up-to-date.

SPECIAL EVENT

November 22nd in Gibsons, BC from 11-4.

Preregistration is required. Six people minimum. Twenty people max.

I am excited to introduce a new body of work I am calling em•body.

The 16th-century root of the word embody (v): is to animate a soul or spirit with form.

em•body is a ritualized therapeutic dance experience that integrates the teachings of The 360 Emergence.

It'll be a day to practice deep embodiment, ritual, community connection and support.

CA$99.75

em•body | November 22 | 11-4

Dance is more than movement—it's a sacred return, where emotions are expressed and processed through gesture and rhythm.... Read more

IN PERSON

Sunshine Coast

Grantham's Hall in Gibsons

Friday, Oct 10 & 24 | 7-8:30

$20 at the door or pay via e-transfer in advance HERE.(hello@innerflowcounselling.com)

ONLINE

Saturday, October 25 | 11-12:30.

The 360 Emergence Online 11.29 (CAD)

Get it now!

The 360 Emergence Online 11.29 (USD)