Soul Birthing

The Soul Birthing Circle

A year-long circle of six — womb-honoring practice rooted in pelvic floor healing, body wisdom, ceremony, and arriving more fully into yourself.

✦

You carry more than most rooms know how to receive.

And something in you is asking to shift in a real way.

You likely impact a space even when you aren't trying to.

You've learned to contain parts of yourself, because people's and spaces' capacity limits are smaller than what you bring.

You're the one who holds. And being the one who holds, in addition to all its beauty, has its own kind of loneliness.

You know the strange truth that you can and do understand presence and authenticity in yourself, teach it, hold it for others — and still find there are frontiers in your being that need to be met with enough presence to come home and thrive in your life.

That's not a failure of your practice.

That's where something has been waiting to be met.

What I keep witnessing

People come to me for pelvic floor work.

They arrive with something specific — pain, numbness, a birth that's still in the body, a surgery, a season of holding everything. Something they can name.

And what I keep hearing, months later, isn't about the pelvic floor at all.

I found myself.

I can't imagine never having had this.

After years of this work, I've stopped being surprised. The root is where we live. It's where we brace, where we hold, where we keep what we haven't had anywhere else to put.

Again and again, I've watched someone discover that what they thought was their pelvic floor was a place in them that had never once been met with this quality of presence. A final frontier of neglected land.

It has left me wondering how much of what we carry has been waiting far longer than our own lifetime for that kind of love.

When it's met — really met, with care and time and witness — a person doesn't get a better pelvic floor.

They come home.

A circle of women sitting on a patterned rug in a draped red-lit temple space, eyes closed, hands resting, candles and flowers on a low altar behind them. — The room where the circle is held.

Why we do this together

Here is something I learned so transparently over years of practice:

When you witness a pelvic floor session, you receive a pelvic floor session.

The energetic construction of our roots connects us to one another. Our roots are always syncing and relating to each other in space. We're designed to drop into this place in our bodies. So when one person's pelvic floor releases and softens, the other pelvic floors in the room release and soften as well.

This is not a nice idea about community. It's what happens.

And it matters for a specific reason:

So much of our wounding around and within the pelvic floor has been isolation. A certain amount of this healing has to be done within the context of community — because the wound itself was made alone.

To be met in this root space, where we've been hiding out from everyone else, changes what's possible.

That's why this is a circle, and not a series of private sessions.

Two people seated on the floor of a temple space, one holding the other's hand in both of hers, resting on the knee. — One person's root softens, and the whole room softens with it.

Who this circle is for

Not sorted by profession, or by how long you've been practicing.

It's for the one who stewards energy — and is coming into her next iteration.

The dance instructor
the artist
the teacher
the coach
the mother
the medicine caller
the dreamer
the musician
the one everyone leans on, whatever it says on the card

And it's for a particular moment, not a particular résumé — the moment when something is asking to be born:

a body of work
a new world
the self, this time round
the next iteration of a life already well underway

If you're standing at that threshold and your body has started asking for something your mind can't give it — this circle was built for that.

This is womb-honoring practice. It welcomes anyone who recognizes themselves in that language — women, and anyone who carries womb energy whether or not they call themselves a woman.

Because the hands-on work is pelvic and internal, this particular circle is for people with vulvas.

Other circles are being held for other configurations. If this one isn't yours, tell me — I'll let you know when yours opens.

A woman in a pale linen dress standing outdoors against bright blue sky, backlit by the sun, hands resting over her belly, gazing to the side. — The moment something is asking to be born.

The thirteen moons

A birth doesn't happen in a weekend, and it doesn't read a calendar.

This circle moves the way a gestation moves — conception, rooting, quickening, expansion, labor, birth, and the tender landing afterward. Thirteen moons, held from beginning to end.

Conception — the opening immersive

Four days together — Friday through Monday. Education, ritual, hands-on work, and the opportunity to receive internal pelvic care in the held space of the circle. This is where the next self is conceived, and where the six of us become a circle rather than six people in a room.

Arrive Thursday evening. Depart Tuesday morning.

Rooting — the moons after

What opened has to land. Monthly gatherings, the New Moon circle, and the Wise One Sanctuary running underneath the whole year as connective tissue — so you're never between the work, only ever inside it.

Quickening — when it starts to move on its own

The point where it stops being something you're doing and becomes something that's happening. Usually unmistakable. Usually around the time you'd expected to have plateaued.

Expansion — making room

The part nobody warns you about: the making of space. What has to be set down, what has to be told, what has to change shape so there's room for what's coming.

Labor — the last stretch

Not the hardest part because it hurts most. The hardest part because it's nearly here, and there's no way through except through.

Birth & the fourth trimester — the thirteenth moon

Arriving, and then being held while you're new. We close the circle together, and the closing is its own ceremony.

A handwritten journal page in purple ink reading ‘I allow this whole now emergent self to emerge, w/ joy, pleasure, grace, kindness — fully now.’ — In her own hand, at the end of the year.

Two hands clasped gently together, resting on a body draped in red cloth — steady, unhurried, held. — Slow, and with care. We tend the parts that need tending.

If you've been quietly nodding as you read this, you don't have to finish the page.

The shape of the year, what it asks of you, and what it costs are all below. Read those. Then, if it's still true, we'll talk.

What this is not

This is not a training.

It isn't a space where people come to learn to facilitate this work and then go hold it for others.

The long-term vision is that we don't need anyone's permission or certificate to know how to lovingly respect ourselves and each other.

You're not here to learn to hold it.

You're here to be held.

Why this work, and why me

When I first received my Holistic Pelvic Care Provider™ training, I was so afraid to say it out loud.

Afraid to say — or put in print — that I practiced this kind of work.

Even then I had the vision, though not as clear as it is now. It's been years of preparation for this.

I've changed. And now it's now.

Healing isn't something we make happen. It's something life is constantly reaching toward. My work is to recognize where it's becoming possible, and to participate as skillfully as I know how.

This is what people say to me when the work is happening:

Sophia seated on a wooden floor among large white crystal singing bowls in a light-filled timber-framed hall, smiling, gongs and tall windows behind her. — Sophia, in the work she prepared years to say out loud.

“It's so brain-breaking, brain-healing to be touched and have it not be clinical and cold. For it not to be sex. To be allowed to be touched, loved, and cared for. To be allowed to feel the depth of grief, rage, disconnect, pain, shame, embarrassment, and regret — all of the things we come into contact with when we connect with our roots with unadulterated clarity.”

We're remembering and building a world where it's normal and sane to have your body cared for this way.

We get to ask to be initiated into our own body.

All of this is about owning your own body — not about anyone else having it.

From people who've been through it

“Sophia is a delightful balance of down to earth, forthright and slapstick silly. She holds space for you to do everything from laughing to crying to even farting… yes, you may need to fart, and I never once felt embarrassed in Sophia's company. Days after my sessions I felt a literal sensation of melting as long-held feelings of doubt and fear dissipated.”

Jackson

“After our three healing sessions together, I have gained clarity, direction, a sense of self, a drive for authenticity and a confidence that I never dreamed I could have.”

Emilie Kress Design Consultant & Reiki Practitioner

“She's helped me turn from a place of loneliness, fear and stuckness into a life that is joyful, radiant and abundant. She has helped me learn to listen to myself.”

Natanya Reiki, Healing Arts & Professional Movement Artist

“Sophia's unique gift is her ability to intuitively help you understand what you are experiencing on a physical, emotional, mental and spiritual level.”

Linda Jungian Artist & Mentor

The investment

Six people. Thirteen moons. One founding circle.

If you're already in the Wise One Sanctuary

$9,999

If you're not

$11,111

and your year in the Sanctuary is included

It's the same investment either way. The Sanctuary runs underneath this entire year as the ground we all stand on — so if you're already a member, you simply aren't charged for it twice.

How to enter

There's no button here.

If this is reading like it was written for you, the next step is a conversation — I call it a Sorting Hat Call: a conversation to find out whether this is your circle. We talk about where you are and what's asking to be born, and we find out together.

Not a sales call. A fit call. Sometimes the honest answer is not this one, not yet — and that's a good outcome.

Tell me which circle is yours →

The circle opens in its season. When the six are gathered, it closes.

If this circle isn't yours

This one is shaped a particular way, and that's on purpose — root work asks for a room where you can actually open, and who's in the room is part of what makes that possible.

Other circles are forming. I don't have dates yet, and I'd rather know who's waiting than guess.

If one of these is yours, tell me, and I'll write when it opens.

There is a place in you that has been waiting to be met.

Not fixed. Not healed. Met.

And what's trying to come into life through you now doesn't need you to be ready.

It needs to be recognized. Welcomed. Received.

And it needs you to be held while you do it.

Be blessed, and know you are a blessing.

Sophia