I have noticed something about adopted people. Many of them (uh, me) cling to the narrative that no one held them after they were born.

Stuart is about to release a podcast I think is a game changer, and so I asked him if we would be a guest blogger here and tell you a little about it and himself.

When people are telling a person story, one that costs them something to tell, they do this thing.

The thing about the publishing business is that it really does seem to eventually come down to meeting the right person, and I’ve been fortunate enough to meet the right person many times.

The price of being a people pleaser is that you can lose your air in a heartbeat.

I wondered if this is what happens when a baby’s skin is not soothed and welcomed home by the mother when the baby is born. I wondered, yet again, if the primal wound has to do with the skin of the baby, the unfinished nature of adoptee-skin. We are like burn victims without the scars.

Dear Reader, the reason I’m talking to you about this is because I played with my lower dan tien this morning with my teacher Kent Bond, and I feel so much hope and joy. I want to share with you what I learned so you can feel the same way, if you want.

Get two magnets. Name one baby and one mother.

Your worst fear is that it will kill you, but in fact what will happen is that it will bring you to life.

The vagus nerve is the wandering nerve. It hangs from your brain stem like wild roots of a stubborn weed to have conversation with your guts, heart, liver and other organs you probably wouldn’t want to touch if you could for fear of harming your darkest, most internal self. Also because touching your own guts is weird and unhealthy.

We want to be wild, but we are so frightened of our own power, and so we wear name tags and girdles and shoes so tight our feet bleed.

The temptation is to hold on, to stay in the shallow end, feet on the floor of what we know, but then our circulation goes stagnant and the brain gets bored, shrinks.