Creative Spirit Work for Punks

In the five years I’ve been in private practice as a creative and spiritual coach, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of working with a handful of punks around my age. These dears hold a special place in my heart, not merely because of our shared suspicion of the over-culture, or the fact that we count Fugazi and Lungfish shows among our peak transcendental experiences. But because down to a person, the punks I’ve known are deep souls that carry with them a sometimes heartbreaking sensitivity to their surroundings. They were the black sheep growing up, who—for their keen ways of observing—were often pathologized or made the punchline. They were the cultural orphans, who couldn’t locate themselves in the cheery fiction of American ascendancy. And they were the fierce innovators, whose art and music was not merely an act of protest, but a petition for a more beautiful and just world.

As prevalent as a core sensitivity is among the punks I’ve known, so are the ways we learned early to armor ourselves and keep our most tender vulnerabilities on lock. Punk was a radical culture that rescued so many of us, and gave us art to touch on the depth of our grief or rage. But it was less nurturing of a functional language to express why it hurt so much in the first place. It gave us ways to be cool, but less clear ways to be free. 

Whatever subcultures we’ve identified with, we all come by our armor honestly and through no real fault of our own. But over time, that armor can block out much more than we mean it too. And this is where my work with my coaching clients seeks to go. Toward the removal of our armor, and towards the reclamation of our sensitivities so that we feel empowered rather than burdened by them. I’ve come to call my coaching practice Creative Spirit Work because I believe our root struggles need spiritual solutions now, and because creativity is our best antidote to trauma and soul loss. I hope you’ll join me in this beautiful work.