How the Certification Programme Was Born
“Will I get any kind of … designation for taking your programme?”
This question, or some version of it, has been asked by almost every person who’s taken a BIL course with me. Usually with some shyness or hesitation, as though they were asking about something they could sense but not fully see. What I heard in their words was a question of identity, something akin to: “there’s something important bringing us together, right? Is there a way we can define that “thing,” so that we can be more see-able to each other, to the world, and perhaps even to ourselves?”
I must admit, I’ve felt the same way about this particular vocation — working at the place where somatics, social justice, and regenerative culture meet. I’ve built my craft here for over a decade, and for much of that time I’ve struggled to define and communicate “what it is that I do”. It has felt self-evident, like something I know intimately and unshakeably, but is yet very tricky to communicate with the world, or to fit into our existing frameworks.
It’s become easier in recent years, with brilliant folks like Dan Siegel, Resmaa Menakem, Deb Dana, and Gabor Mate offering up some invaluable language for this terrain. And yet, what it means to bring leadership in this particular way; what it means to engage embodied practice to liberate ourselves and each other; and, in particular, the skillset required to do so in European and Euro-colonial cultures — can still be hard to define.
And perhaps it’s more a matter of hosting a conversation than providing a definition. I find this a more helpful perspective to take. If I ask myself for a definition, I feel lost. If I ask myself: do I have a commitment to this particular inquiry? Do I have training and experience that might nourish this inquiry? Am I up for it, to create a container, to make a place where others can stand beside me, holding it together? Then I feel a heartfelt “yes!” and all of the things that I still don’t know, the things that are still emergent, no longer feel like a barrier — or like a good enough excuse to hold back.
I have accepted the fact that I cannot put this “stuff” down. This is the hearth I tend, and I can only hope to tend it well. And so, I have created this title, this ‘designation’ for others who are called to this particular place, to give us a way to find each other, a play space in which to learn and grow together, and an invitation to keep feeding this powerful conversation. I also see it as a way to better share the fruits of our conversation with others, so that the world can better see and understand us, and receive what it is that we have to bring.