In May of 2018 I was sitting in Christopher Kuntzsch's backyard, in Wildcat Canyon, trying to figure out whether or not to buy the new townhouse my wife and I had fallen in love with but couldn't afford, and trying to figure out why I was not excited about the business I had spent eight years pouring myself into. I was sitting sideways on a reclining lawn chair under the span of several healthy Coastal Live Oaks, and staring up across the bouldered meadow behind his house. I had taken off my shoes to get my feet on the earth, and I think I had a rather agonized expression on my face. Christopher, who was my business/life coach, was sitting obliquely to my left. I was explaining to him that I didn't know how to make the decision before me. Part of me wanted to move forward, and part of me was scared. I felt like I was on the threshold of diving off a cliff, and once you do that it becomes too late to change your mind.
We had begun the session, probably fifteen minutes prior, with an invocation, and then an awareness practice, and because of Christopher's trustworthiness and extraordinary acuity in tracking my states, I felt both safe and relaxed with him. I felt comfortable naming the dimensions of the problem that I wouldn't have been able to articulate to someone less attuned. At a certain moment, I leaned forward to emphasize a point, and my attention got called to something near the ground. I looked down at my feet. And then something strange happened. My feet woke up and told my head to shut up. Just like that. To my head, my actual feet said, "Be quiet." Clearly, firmly, in English words. This was odd enough that it startled my thinking into silence. A sort of stunned silence. My feet began to sort of fizzle and hum with energy, and I found that by adjusting my posture, just slightly, I could sort of dial in to the knowing that was coming from them.
Christopher, who was watching, noticed something. What just happened? he asked me. Somewhat abashedly I told him that my feet had started talking to me. Ok, he said, like this was a normal occurrence. What did they say?
I told him.
What are they saying now, he asked me? I closed my eyes.
What came next was very clear. Regarding your life direction, my feet told me, don't listen to your head. It knows nothing about walking. Listen to us. We are the ones who take you where you want to go. I opened my eyes, and we looked at eachother, because I had said this out loud. Alright, Christopher said, where do your feet want to go?
Toward the new house, I said. No hesitation whatsoever.
Ok, he said. Then let's do that.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Neurobiology of Connection to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.