Nūma Breathwork

Nūma Breathwork Helping others uncover their light, unravel how they've learned to be in this life, & embrace what’s possible next in their journey of transformation.

Nūma (pneuma) is an ancient Greek word for both breath and spirit. Somatics refers to both somatic psychotherapeutics and experiential movement practices. Nūma is a precious opportunity to meet yourself and other amazing human beings in a curious, vulnerable, authentic, embodied, and creatively expressive way.

It is the weaving together of life-transforming breathwork practices with trauma-infor

med somatic psycho-therapeutic investigations, somatic movement explorations, sound medicine, and so much more. Nūma is a bridge between science and the sacred. It employs sensitive therapeutic processes as well as insightful and profound dives into non-ordinary states of consciousness. It's an empowering exploration of the continuum of human experience and a catalyst for resolving suffering, unleashing creativity, and rekindling the flame in our hearts and souls. Visit www.numasomatics.com for more information!

Long before a man had language for himself, he was learning what it meant to belong.He was learning whether his needs wo...
06/15/2026

Long before a man had language for himself, he was learning what it meant to belong.

He was learning whether his needs would be met.
Whether emotions were welcome.
Whether love felt steady, unpredictable, conditional, absent, or safe.

Most of this learning happened before conscious memory.

But the body remembers.

It remembers in the relationships we create.
In the way we approach intimacy.
In the way we protect ourselves.
In the breath we hold when life becomes overwhelming.

The Root is an exploration of where those patterns began.

Over six weeks, we will enter the parental landscape—not to assign blame, but to understand. To uncover the stories, beliefs, and nervous system adaptations that were formed long before we knew we had a choice.

Together we will explore:

→ The mother as the first environment—what was learned about connection, safety, and belonging.

→ The father imprint—the ways presence, absence, guidance, or silence shaped a man’s relationship with himself and the world.

→ The grief beneath the story—the losses, longings, and unmet needs that often remain unnamed.

→ What gets carried forward—and what becomes possible when a man begins to choose consciously rather than repeat unconsciously.

This is deep work.
Tender work.
The kind of work that changes not only how a man relates to his past, but how he shows up in his future.

📍 Online via Zoom
📅 Wednesdays | 6:30–9:00 PM MDT
🗓 Begins July 15
💰 $249

No previous breathwork experience required.

You do not need to have it all figured out.
You only need the willingness to turn toward what shaped you—and discover what else might be possible.

🔗 Link in bio to register.

Many of us were never taught how to grieve. Or how to ask for what we need. Or how to be genuinely wrong without convert...
06/08/2026

Many of us were never taught how to grieve. Or how to ask for what we need. Or how to be genuinely wrong without converting it into a self-improvement project. Or how to love someone without disappearing into them.

We were just expected to already know.

So we did what we were designed to do — we watched, listened, felt, and figured it out on our own. And somewhere along the way, without noticing the moment it happened, we became fluent in the performance of knowing and completely estranged from the relief of learning.

That performance costs something. The chronic vigilance against exposure. The constant background monitoring of how adequately we’re appearing. The exhaustion of being observed without being seen. It’s an enormous ongoing investment.

What it buys is the appearance of adequacy. What it costs is the actual life underneath.

That life has been waiting. Not for resolution. Not for the performance to finally succeed. For company. For being with others who meet your not-knowing with curiosity rather than judgment — and who make it safe enough, finally, to be a genuine beginner in your own life.

The performances were cast in the absence of honest company. They are undone in its presence.



Trevor wrote a longer piece on this — on the many forms this wound takes, what the research says about what actually heals it, and what becomes possible when the performance is finally set down.

Link in bio. 🔗

What if the conversation between science and spirituality could help us feel more whole?For so long, many of us have fel...
06/08/2026

What if the conversation between science and spirituality could help us feel more whole?

For so long, many of us have felt we needed to choose: Are you a rational, scientific thinker? Or are you a spiritual, intuitive feeler? As if these were opposing forces rather than complementary ways of knowing.

This split can live in us. We might trust data but question our intuition or, instead, trust our intuition and ignore the data. We may honor the material while feeling uncertain about the mystical. Perhaps we believe in neurons but wonder about soul.

And yet, the body knows something different.

Your nervous system responds to presence, to attunement, to being met in your full humanity. And when we work with breath—that beautiful interface between body and spirit—we often discover that profound healing happens when we stop choosing sides.

Nūma Breathwork holds space for paradox:

We study attachment theory AND honor past-life experiences that arise.

We understand polyvagal theory AND trust mystical states of consciousness. We track somatic responses AND make space for the ineffable.

Because healing doesn’t have to be an either/or proposition.

Your body can be both biochemical wonder and sacred vessel.

Your breath can be both measurable oxygen exchange and something moving through you that feels like life force itself.

What becomes possible when we stop fragmenting our experience into acceptable and unacceptable categories? When we allow mystery and measurement to coexist?

Perhaps wholeness isn’t found in choosing one side. Perhaps it’s found in the gentle dance between both.

What if the thing you’re most afraid of has already happened?Most of us carry a quiet, vigilant terror of losing control...
06/01/2026

What if the thing you’re most afraid of has already happened?

Most of us carry a quiet, vigilant terror of losing control — of the moment when the inner weather finally spills into the outer world, when grief submerges the workday, when the carefully managed self simply comes apart.

But here is the vertiginous truth that the deepest healing work eventually reveals: you have already lost control. Not in some future session where the ceremony cracks you open. Right now. On an ordinary routine-filled morning.

The voice that narrates your experience before it completes. The part that manages how close people get with such precision you’ve mistaken it for a personality. The one that reaches for the screen, the glass, the project — anything — when a certain feeling begins to surface. None of these were your conscious decision. They are guardians, running the show on your behalf, steering by calculations made so long ago you’ve forgotten there was ever another way.

The parts frightened of losing control are the parts you lost control of a long time ago.

And they are exhausted. Years of managing the mystery, keeping the living moment predictable, damming the river. What breathwork, ceremony, somatic practice, and deep contemplative work can open — when held well — is not the catastrophe these parts have been prophesying. It is something far more interesting.

A return. To something older, wiser, and more capable of meeting what was feared than any management system ever could be.

And there is a peculiar possibility alongside this: some of what felt most urgently personal — the grief, the exhaustion, the inexplicable sorrow settling over a room — may never have been entirely yours to control in the first place. It was weather. Moving through a living field. Touching many beings at once.

You were never as separate as you thought. The practices simply help you remember how to move with it all rather than against it.

Trevor’s full essay — link in bio. 🙏

So many of us have learned how to survive by leaving ourselves behind. By staying busy. By staying needed. By carrying m...
05/27/2026

So many of us have learned how to survive by leaving ourselves behind. By staying busy. By staying needed. By carrying more than our bodies were ever meant to hold.

And over time, the body begins asking for our attention in quieter, deeper ways: Through tension. Through exhaustion. Through the ache for something more honest, more connected, and more alive.

Echoes in the Temple is an invitation to return to yourself. A space to breathe fully again. To move what has been held. To reconnect with the wisdom of your body and the parts of you that have been waiting beneath the noise of everyday life.

Through breathwork, somatic practice, yoga, sound, and relational connection, we’ll explore what becomes possible when you stop abandoning your inner world and begin listening to it instead.

Together, let’s become more present. More open. More embodied. More free to be fully here.

🗓 June 19–21, 2026
📍 (Mission), Calgary, AB

If something in you feels curious, emotional, stirred, or even a little cracked open reading this… trust that.

Your body already knows the way.
Spaces are limited.
Link in bio. 🤍

We don’t heal in isolation. We heal in connection.This might be the most important thing we’ve forgotten in our individu...
05/20/2026

We don’t heal in isolation. We heal in connection.

This might be the most important thing we’ve forgotten in our individualistic culture. We’ve turned healing into a solo project—something we do alone, in private, as if our wounds and our wholeness exist in a vacuum.

But trauma—the fracturing of the self—almost always happens in relationship. Through betrayal, abandonment, violation, neglect. Through moments when we needed someone to see us, hold us, believe us, and they didn’t.

So why would we imagine that healing happens alone?

This is the magic of learning breathwork in community. When you practice facilitating with your fellow students, you’re not just developing technical skills. You’re learning the art of sacred relationship. You’re discovering what it means to:

• Be fully present with another’s pain without trying to fix it
• Hold steady when someone is in chaos
• Trust that they have their own answers, their own wisdom
• Witness without judgment
• Celebrate without ownership

And here’s the paradox: as you learn to offer this quality of presence to others, you begin to offer it to yourself. The way you hold space externally becomes the way you meet yourself internally.

Community isn’t just nice to have—it’s essential to healing. We need to be seen in our struggle. We need to know we’re not alone. We need to remember, through the mirror of others, that we’re worthy of belonging.

You can’t become a skilled facilitator by reading about it. You have to practice being-with. And that changes everything.

NumaBreathwork

Most men left home years ago. Yet the ghosts of all that was their childhood “home” never quite left the men.They’re in ...
05/13/2026

Most men left home years ago. Yet the ghosts of all that was their childhood “home” never quite left the men.

They’re in the anticipations carried into certain rooms. In the template for what love requires and what intimacy costs. In the body — in the breath pattern under pressure, in the quality of vigilance or ease that was established before there was any conscious hand in the establishing.

The mother wound and the father wound aren’t metaphors. They’re documented in nervous systems, in attachment patterns, in the specific ways a man relates to intimacy, to authority, to his own body. And the grief that comes with this not-what-I-expected human experience often has no container to land in.

The Root is the second series in The Unfinished Man — a 6-week online breathwork series for men entering four specific territories:
→ The first world — the mother as the original environment. The template of connection, safety or danger, sufficiency or lack.
→ The father shape — what was carved by presence or absence, silence or speech, steadiness or volatility.
→ What was never mourned — the grief the parental territories open. The losses that have no socially recognized name.
→ The passing forward — what a man does with what he received. What gets transmitted next, and whether it can be chosen with more clarity and agency.

The work is not about blame and not about any guaranteed resolution. It is about seeing clearly where you came from — and choosing, with that clarity, what you pass forward.

Six weeks. Wednesdays, 6:30–9pm MDT.
Begins July 15. $249. Online via Zoom.
No prior breathwork experience required.

You don’t need to be ready. You just need to show up and be willing to do this humbling work with other men.

🔗 Link in bio to register

There are moments — sometimes as rare as a blue supermoon — when something in you simply opens.The swim that unexpectedl...
05/12/2026

There are moments — sometimes as rare as a blue supermoon — when something in you simply opens.

The swim that unexpectedly became prayer. The weeping that released a weight you’d forgotten wasn’t just the way you are. The breathwork, the ceremony, the dancing that took you past the performance of self until nothing was left but the movement.

In those moments, you weren’t managing. You were in the river of your own aliveness — and, briefly, gloriously, you didn’t fight it.

These moments aren’t accidents. They’re invitations. And there is an entire field of practices — breathwork, somatic work, ceremony, plant medicine, embodied movement — that exist specifically to help you find the door back.

What they share: a held container. A community willing to witness. A facilitator who has been in the territory and come through. And an orientation that doesn’t ask how do we fix this? but — with genuine curiosity — where is this trying to go?

And the discomfort at the edges highlighted within these practices… well, maybe they aren’t warning signs. Maybe they are growing pains. The sensations and feelings of a system expanding past its previous known limits. The tender place where something new is arriving.

The river hasn’t stopped flowing. It never does. These practices simply help you remember how to let yourself back in.

The body knows how to unravel. That is one of the quiet scandals at the center of transformative work.

Curious to read more? Check out the new Substack essay - link in bio!

And if you’re yearning for some of this in your life, come explore with us in person in our upcoming immersions:

Echoes in the Temple: Somatic Breathwork and Yoga Immersion (in Calgary (June) and Edmonton (December)

Gateway to Transformation (Online Immersion, live) (September 11-13 or October 16-18)

Links in bio 🙏

What if the thing you’ve been trying to “work through”isn’t a thought… but something your body is still holding?Not brok...
05/05/2026

What if the thing you’ve been trying to “work through”
isn’t a thought… but something your body is still holding?
Not broken.
Not wrong.
Just… unfinished.

Echoes in the Temple is a space to listen differently.
To slow down enough to feel what’s been shaping you beneath the surface—and to meet it with breath, movement, sound, and presence.
Not to fix it. But to let it move.

🗓 June 19–21, 2026
📍 (Mission), Calgary, AB

A weekend to come back into relationship
with your body, your breath, and the deeper intelligence within.

If something in you softens reading this—
that might be your way in.

Link in bio.

Address

Canmore, AB
T1W

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