My name is Johannes – a practitioner, guide, and bodyworker grounded in direct experience, honest connection, and a deep trust in the body.
My work invites you back to your body – to listen, to feel, and to remember.
Through presence, something quiet returns: breath, clarity, and the truth that has always lived beneath the surface.
You might still be asleep. Or nursing a headache. Or wondering why champagne seemed like a good idea.
But let me ask you something:
Do you feel ready for 2026?
Or does something from last year feel... unfinished?
Not your to-do list. Not your goals.
Something in your body.
Your calendar resets on January 1st. Your nervous system doesn't.
The moments you pushed through? The conversations you didn't have? The exhaustion you ignored?
Still there.
Most people step into 2026 carrying everything from 2025.
Then they wonder why their resolutions fail by mid-January.
It's not willpower.
It's unfinished energy.
What is unfinished energy?
It's what you didn't let yourself feel when it happened.
Your body has been holding it ever since. Waiting for the moment you finally have capacity to feel it.
Most of us learned early: certain feelings aren't safe.
So we developed survival strategies - freeze, stay busy, please people, shut down.
It worked. We survived.
But now we have a pattern: When something feels too big, we run.
The work isn't getting better coping strategies.
The work is building capacity to actually feel what's here - without fixing it, without changing it, without running.
This year, I saw the same pattern again and again:
The people who actually changed had one thing in common:
They stopped trying to fix themselves and started feeling themselves.
Let me show you what I mean.
A Woman came to me after three decades of meditation, breathwork, Tai Chi.
Still experiencing "chronic freeze" in her legs, arms, face.
30 years of practice. Still couldn't access her body.
Why? Because practice alone doesn't release trauma. Presence does.
She needed someone to witness and guide her while she learned to meet the frozen places. Slowly. When they were ready.
Six months later?
She's taking trains. Going to cafés. Living her actual life.
She still has PTSD. She still has frozen parts. The symptoms didn't disappear.
But her relationship to them did.
She told me: "Ich fühle mich nicht mehr machtlos. Ich fühle mich, als könnte ich damit arbeiten."
(I don't feel powerless anymore. I feel like I can work with this.)
Why transformation takes time
Real change needs three things: time, relationship, and safety built through repeated experience.
Not one-session healing. Not quick fixes.
The kind of safety that only builds when you're met without agenda. Again and again.
Everything you've been running from is still in your body. In your nervous system.
Pulling at your energy. Making you tired for no clear reason.
Until you finally let yourself feel it.
Being present means: staying - not running, not freezing, not disconnecting - while feelings move through you.
I'm taking new clients in January
Not everyone.
This work is for people who are done running. Who are ready to feel what they've been avoiding. Who want to build capacity to stay present with their own life.
If that's you - if you recognize yourself in this story - let's talk.
My name is Johannes – a practitioner, guide, and bodyworker grounded in direct experience, honest connection, and a deep trust in the body.
My work invites you back to your body – to listen, to feel, and to remember.
Through presence, something quiet returns: breath, clarity, and the truth that has always lived beneath the surface.
#ISSUE 23 Als Ilona mich gefragt hat, ob ich mir ihr ein Retreat für Paare organisieren möchte, war die Antwort klar: JA. Denn genau darauf zielt meine Arbeit ab. Intimität zerbricht nicht an der Technik. Sie zerbricht im Moment vor der Berührung – im Atem, den du anhältst, in der Präsenz, die dir plötzlich entgleitet, in dem unbewussten Zusammenziehen deines Körpers, ohne dass du es bemerkst. Vielleicht liegt eine alte Erfahrung dahinter, die dir gezeigt hat, dass Nähe nicht sicher ist....
#ISSUE 22 Reader, Lese den Newsletter hier in deutsch There's a particular kind of tiredness that doesn't respond to sleep. Your chest feels tight. Your breath shallow. You've learned to function like this - to push through, to manage. But somewhere underneath, your body is asking: What am I still carrying? The body keeps holding I've been thinking about grief lately. The kind that accumulates quietly over years. The relationships that ended without closure. The dreams you let go. The version...
#ISSUE 22 Es gibt eine Art von Müdigkeit, die nicht verschwindet, egal wie viel man schläft. Deine Brust ist eng. Dein Atem flach.Du hast gelernt, so weiterzumachen - durchzuhalten, zu funktionieren.Und doch fragt dein Körper irgendwo darunter, ganz leise: Was trage ich noch in mir? Der Körper trägt weiter Ich habe in letzter Zeit viel über Trauer nachgedacht. Über die Art von Trauer, die sich über Jahre hinweg ansammelt. Trauer um Beziehungen, die ohne Abschluss geendet haben. Trauer um...