Field Notes are reflections from the work — observations on movement, health, and what it means to stay human over time.

As the year draws to a close, I find myself looking back — not in a dramatic way, but honestly.

Over the past few months, I’ve spent a lot of time questioning whether to continue with this work at all. There were moments of real struggle, where things felt stagnant, uncertain, and heavy. At times, I even considered stepping away and choosing a more traditional path — not because I wanted to, but because doubt has a way of creeping in when progress feels slow.

What kept returning, though, was a simple and steady truth:

I want to help people feel better in their bodies.
To move better.
To rebuild trust in how they move.

And I want to say this clearly — even if I don’t say it often enough:

I am deeply grateful for the support I’ve received along the way.

To everyone who has practiced with me, trusted me, and continued to show up — your presence has mattered more than you may know.

Looking back, this past year had its own rhythm. Some familiar faces moved on, new ones arrived. Some days the weather worked with us, others not so much. We practiced anyway. We adapted. And somehow, it all added up to something meaningful.

Movement has a way of teaching this lesson again and again:
progress isn’t linear — it’s lived.

Over the holidays, I’ll be stepping back for a short pause. The studio will be closed from December 22nd to January 7th — time to be with family, to reset, and to let the body and mind catch up with the year that’s been.

When we return in January, the classes you know will still be there. The mats will still be unrolled. The practice will continue.

What has changed for me is not the work itself, but my relationship to it — a deeper sense of direction, shaped by reflection, patience, and care. I know the path ahead won’t be easy. It never is. But it feels honest.

I love what I do, and I remain deeply grateful for the opportunity to help others move, heal, and rediscover what their bodies are capable of.

For now, I simply want to say thank you — for showing up, for practicing, and for trusting the process, even when it feels messy or imperfect.

Return to what grounds you.
Move well.

— Colin
Field Notes on Health · Roots & Motion