I was born in Tehran in the year of the revolution. My family carried me out of one world and set me down in Vienna. Persian at home, European outside, never wholly either. The body learned early what bodies learn under threat. Stay quiet. Stay watchful. Take less room. What I would later have a name for, complex trauma held in the tissue, was already moving as a slow, steady dimming.
More than two decades of breath and healing work taught me what the mind alone could not finish. The body was the door, breath the fuel, voice the reconnection.
By the time I reached the Algarve, the field was asking for a recalibration. I went there to let what I had been carrying find ground. A daily breath practice met me on the cliffs, sunrise after sunrise, until it became something else. It became Awakening Sun.
Then it came through, not from. At Ozora in 2023, breath and dance fused in a way I did not choose. A ceremony with Tien afterwards opened the gifts I had been carrying without knowing. At Boom in 2025, twenty minutes on the festival floor cracked my voice open. The third element of the ritual fell into place. Two weeks later, at Pyramid Festival, a hundred people moved together inside a ritual that came through my body in a language I do not speak.
Four years of holotropic training and a long line of ceremonies stand behind the work. None of that built it. The body did.
Awakening Sun Ritual is what I bring back.
