Somatic Finance with Gayle Colman

01/31/2026

Crossing thresholds and puddle jumping, learning how to expand play in life's meaningful moments and invitations, especially when my heart hurts. Wishing you all that serves you as you cross your meaningful thresholds.

releasing old stories about change and transition to strengthen potentials and possibilities

07/24/2025

A week ago I stuck my hands in the dirt for the first time in months—too many months—and potted two small basil plants. Finally, after missing the early planting season my hands felt the lush satisfaction of feeling the earth and tending to the promise of homemade pesto sauce.

Yesterday I finished the last of our spinach blending it with protein powder, nuts, berries, and old frozen bananas. Enjoying a nutritious smoothie made possible by my bullet blender, I thanked the makers of this kitchen device for it’s sustaining power. It has been in storage for a couple of years.

Monday, I swam laps in the YMCA pool after a 6 week hiatus. My body oozed ahhhh with each stroke and kick, slow and steady.

Today, before tomorrow’s self desired deadline, I compose this blog for Somatic Finance giving a nod, a wink, and kind embrace to the motivation for its creation.

Begin again.

Whatever it is, the thing that you want to do, used to do, have been meaning to engage, made a promise, shook hands in agreement and then forgot—begin.

It’s okay and normal to restart your engine.

Allow your truest inspiration to guide and buoy your moves. Release optional nagging thoughts circling—trying to solve why, admonishing reprimands, or shaming defeat.

Life follows a curving path and sometimes we cross over a path we already began.

What does your curving road look like?

What inspires you to begin again?

Will you take the baby step?

Read the complete post on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/begin-again-unabashedly-without-drama

07/04/2025

Change is beautiful, truly...

Last month I took the photos below for you of my Mother’s Day flower arrangement as it “decayed” over several days. Imperfect and aging flowers are gorgeous, to me, reflecting a natural expression and progression of life.

The same was shown to me yesterday when I tried to sign into an infrequently used airline account to connect an upcoming flight to my airline phone app. The security questions popped up for me to verify my identity. What is your favorite genre of book? What is your favorite sport? My answers: self-help and tennis. Really?

Stacks of self-help books repeating the same message were donated to libraries years ago. Self-love, self-mastery, self-awareness align today. A tennis racquet has not graced my hand for decades.

What changes are alive in your life?

How are you navigating them?

Read the full post on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/change-is-beautiful-truly

06/03/2025

I’m off my feed, as my farmer father used to say. Off my feed means off schedule and relates to farm animals eating at irregular hours. My writing and publishing schedule is now on it’s own schedule, attuned to the fluid movement of life, whether I like it or not!

Are you ever off your feed?

My father also said, when I was in my late 30’s with young children, “if I had any words of parenting advice it would be to brag on your children more”. What he meant by bragging was praise and encouragement. My wit and longing answered, “well there’s no time like the present Daddy!”

My parents expected me and my siblings to behave, do what we were “supposed” to do, and make life easier for them. If we did not live up to their expectations, clear instructions, critique and feedback were sternly offered for our improvement. Being the only family I knew, I thought this style of relating was normal.

It wasn’t until my first year of marriage in my mid 20’s that I learned the limitations of this feedback approach. In fact, I reflected on the words I spoke to my beloved for a quite a while—too long. It wasn’t pretty. I said something like, “I don’t need to tell you when you do a good job, that is expected of you. I’m here to help when you need guidance.”

I know. Cringe.

Read the full post on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/encouragement-the-deeper-flow-of

04/19/2025

I have the neck of an 837 year old...

It started with a video created months ago for our company website. In the very delayed production and recent editing phase of the “Why” video, where I describe why our company Colman Knight was envisioned and came to fruition, all I see is the flapping chicken skin below my chin. It’s scary. Most of me, truly—does. not. care. My beloved loves all of my parts, even the physical ones, like my neck, that aren’t perky anymore. Note to self: see yourself through his eyes.

Read the full post on my Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/i-have-the-neck-of-an-837-year-old

03/31/2025

As a child, I cried a lot.

By a lot I mean most days.

The other five members of my family were clueless.

When I stood looking at my face gushing tears, inches from the cheap 5 & 10 variety store floor length mirror in the corner of my parent’s bedroom, my mother’s response, “Your face will freeze that way if you keep watching yourself cry”, sealed my sorrow.

When I choked gratitude tears presenting my bridesmaids their gifts for being in my wedding, and shared how much I loved them, appreciated their support celebrating my nuptials, my sister quipped, “Oh, get it together Gayle, dry up!”

When I spent half of my waking time weeping at a three week intensive meditation retreat, and at the end asked my teacher if the tears ever ceased, and he responded “Does the rain ever stop?”, I knew I was okay.

When I shed tears and others feel uncomfortable, I feel them anyway because there’s no way I can’t, and I am not responsible for others discomfort when I am feeling sad. Neither are you.

I cry a lot these days.

Read the complete post on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/crying-is-my-superpower

03/22/2025

I have a strange story to tell.

It begins with my spouse drinking Starbucks daily to assist his breathing—he says it helps expand his blood flow and increase oxygen. A couple of months ago he returned with his Venti cup decorated at the top with beautiful writing in a black marker, Thank you for being a loyal customer. I asked him if this was a new marketing gimmick.

“Did a person actually write these words?”

In my mind, Starbucks uses AI to calculate repeat customers who then receive these pre-printed cups. I REALLY wanted to know, in a kind of obsessive way.

I placed the cup under the faucet to see if it would wash off. No. It’s permanent. It could be permanent ink. But I’m convinced Starbucks is now printing their cups with messages to fabricate connection between people. My jaw tightened. Breath got a bit shallow. The story in my head continued. The facilimile of care and kindness was eating away at me. It’s just like corporations to fake a cute kind act of sweet words and turn it into a marketing program for more business. I was miffed.

Over the next few weeks the notes changed as well as my story. It was confirmed a real person was behind the endearing funny handwritten notes. I feverishly collected the cups and cut out the sweet notes. So fun. I want to make something.

I’m weird like this.

Now that I knew the writing was authentic, I wanted to return the joy to the giver. Cards. I am making her cards. Cards are my creative play.

Continued on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/ai-paranoia-stories-little-things

03/08/2025

Growing up my parents often said to me, and my siblings, “I just want you to be happy.” On the surface, the words are kind, maybe overflowing with bursts of love. Yet. (Yes, the yet.) Stripping the shiny paint, revealing the layers and bare wood, we can feel the raw angst of, I can’t take your sadness, despair, fear, and the worst of all emotions, anger.

The kicker? Usually when “I just want you to be happy” is expressed, the person receiving that phrase is not happy. Quite the contrary, they are anything but happy. Their not happy feelings are too much for the person saying, I just want you to be happy.

Confession. I recall saying “I just want you to be happy” to my children too. Cringe.

In those moments, while I can’t recall a specific memory, I can reach back into my caverns of parenting, feeling helpless, desperate, no answer, no solutions, no responses to help their unhappy state. If I could turn back time with my present capacities to be with their states of mind, I’d release any pressure to help and all views of something is wrong. I’d open my heart to the horizons, pause, wait, and just love.

My old story is parents have/want/need the right response for all situations to help heal and make their kids whole, as if they are not, so they are happy. Cringing again.

Our deepest desire for our loved ones (and geez how about everyone, and ourselves) is to be loved and feel love. I was reminded of this truth when I viewed my son’s engagement photos last fall. One particular photo sent me to the box of tissues. Picture this: my future daughter-law-in embracing my son, looking up at him with a gorgeous smile and eyes flooded with light, warmth, connection - utter love for my son. Look at how she loves my son! My son receives this love every day.

We just want our children to be loved, as they are, unconditionally. Their photo framed in my home reminds me daily.

Everyone wants this love—to be seen, accepted, appreciated, for being who they are and especially when feeling any version of sad, scared or angry. Unhappy emotions are natural expressions of life giving us our honest response to an experience. All emotions move like clouds floating through the sky when we feel them and allow them to move through our body. They don’t stick, stay and repeat unless we grip beliefs and conditioning that says if I’m not happy, something is wrong.

Long before I learned that my parents just wanted me to be happy, my honest courageous child would boldly protest to my father, “You hurt my feelings!” My confused dad would look down at my earnest innocent face looking up at him as my siblings corralled in a ball of fear ten feet away watching and waiting for me to be punished. Punished for “talking back” to an elder who needs to be respected. He didn’t punish me. Yet I persisted in letting him know that he hurt my feelings until I got the message that he just wanted me to be happy.

Read the full post on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/i-just-want-you-to-be-happy

02/22/2025

I just finished eating a bunch of Tostito corn chips doused in spicy salsa after creating a daily intention using Insight Timer: Today I will… eat food that energizes me. Hah! Within 30 minutes of writing that intention, I smirked at it while rapidly devouring de-energizing chips covered with medium spiced restaurant style salsa. Nice.

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To calm my scrambling mind of thoughts, oh so many thoughts, I resorted to “comfort food” to feed my empty belly, as thoughts remained in motion. My tongue still tingles with the taste of salty spicy salsa. The satisfying crunch between my teeth temporarily silenced the ticker tape scrolling through my head.

For the 1,245,378,973th time I am reminded that food consumption is not healthy or helpful when experiencing emotions.

Grieving
My sister sat at the hospice bedside of her beloved spouse of over forty years, her college romance that flourished to marriage, careers, children, and grandchildren. After a week, he passed away peacefully.

Two family members, a cousin and uncle, recently died within weeks of each other.

A client called asking questions for her young adult son hospitalized in the ICU suffering from a stroke.

A friend just sent an email with a go fund me link, a project for her niece’s children whose father committed su***de leaving them desperate for basic needs.

Grief, I’m discovering, has layers, many layers, and many losses.

Grief is not simple.

You might be grieving too. I’m sorry.

Read the complete post on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/let-go

02/01/2025

Authentic productivity invites our wholebody experience in our highest purpose, conscious actions and measurable output. How we think, feel, sense and act matter and creativity is the gateway for our unceasing well-being and generative world. We realize that wholebody wisdom - physical, emotional, mental and spiritual - guides us in life. Missing from productive measurements is our wholebody wisdom.

Read the full post on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/productivity-is-another-word-for

11/20/2024

Rushing at the end of a packing, organizing, clearing and throwing out day, feeling fatigued but always capable of one more action, I demolished an antique wooden chair using it for a stepping stool. I overrode the wise voice saying go downstairs to get the stepstool. Deep listening, the topic of a keynote presentation I gave 5 days ago with my broken wrist, was ironically missing. My eyes saw the chair and rushed to complete the simple task of placing a bronze statue above the closet. In one swift move stepping my right foot on the center of the chair, immediately collapsing into several pieces, I broke my fall with my dominant right hand.

Read the full post on Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/that-fcker-ate-my-red-pepper

10/26/2024

Let love, boundless love, guide the creation of your estate plans.

Years ago a dear friend and colleague, the late Dick Wagner, suggested that our legal estate documents are the last love letter we give to our loved ones. His words and sentiments plowed through my heart. Sealed in that moment was a new way of holding the often painful, neglected, rejected, and procrastinated actions of estate planning. From that moment forward we viewed estate planning differently and held our client conversations differently.

Now, we dive deeper, speak louder, with truer, self reflective (interior) practices we engage to soften and strengthen our estate planning process, and to emerge from the experience more connected and complete with the people most dear to us.

Read this complete post on my Substack.

https://somaticfinance.substack.com/p/our-last-love-letter