The [Tip of the Iceberg] of the Origin Story…

In an earlier chapter of my life I worked as a Manufacturing R&D Engineer for an industry respected Tier 1 supplier to Boeing and Airbus. I earned a degree in Mechanical Engineering and was paid to collaborate in solving complex technical problems.

I wore a white lab coat in manufacturing clean rooms and worked mostly in research labs with all kinds of equipment; designing, building, and testing experimental tools and processes for manufacturing composite carbon fiber aero-structure components.

I share this to give you context; not to pat myself on the back.

In my early 20’s my dad often said, “Kenneth, you can’t know where you’re going if you don’t know where you came from.”

I was young, naive, and unconcerned with my dark past; focused only on the bright future.

Though my dad has passed on, his words of wisdom remain. Today I respect and honor the dreams of the past; as a fire whose light illuminates the ever-unfolding journey of life.

With that, here is one version of the story of my past of how Somatic Soulutions came to be.

The Early Years…

During junior high school I took an interest (and excelled) in math and science. As I progressed through middle school and into the early years of high school, I found myself reading books on the developing fields of quantum physics and string theory, as well as futurism, which was culturally relevant given the hype regarding the approaching new millenium.

This intellectual pursuit and curiosity led me to the budding—albeit mostly theoretical—world of nanotechnology.

In 1999, in the 9th grade, I enrolled in a four year science research program. In this program I studied the scientific method and how to research—and applied this to my interest in nanotechnology.

During this period of exploration I found myself gravitating towards the potential medical uses of carbon nanotubes—a form of carbon—for the storage and delivery of medications such as insulin, a subject which was decades ahead of its time.

My research of scientific literature led me to develop a research proposal, which coincidentally aligned with research efforts in the Chemistry Department at the Polytechnic University in Brooklyn, now known as the NYU Tandon School of Engineering. My proposal was accepted by the chair of the department and at 17 years old I began conducting research at the University.

I shared my research and findings in a technical paper, which I submitted to the Intel Science Competition in the fall of 2001.

In fall of 2002, I began my studies in the Engineering Department at Syracuse University.

During the summer entering into my junior year of college, I interned at the NASA Langley Research Center in the Mechanics and Durability Branch. While there, I participated in a research project studying the failure mechanics of thermo-cycled composite cryogenic fuel tanks. You can view the conference paper here.

During the summer entering into my senior year of college, I interned in the Manufacturing Research and Development Group at Boeing Aerospace in Wichita, Kansas. During my time there, I participated in research which supported the development of a process for the manufacturing of engine nacelles; the curved 'lip' structure on the front of jet engines.

In the spring of 2006, I graduated from Syracuse University with a Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering. I chose to defer working and instead relocated to Haifa, Israel for six months.

I joined a team of graduate students at The Israel Institute of Technology, who were performing flight trials in preparation for an attempt to break the Guinness world record for the longest-duration unmanned flight.

Unfortunately my internship ended after one month, due to the 2006 war with Hezbollah. I spent the remainder of my time teaching english, traveling, and exploring the country.

In the winter of 2006/07, upon returning to the United States, I began working in Manufacturing Research and Development at Spirit AeroSystems, formerly Boeing AeroSpace, where I interned the summer prior.

Problems and Passages…

Rather quickly, I came to loathe solving what I would have described as soul-less problems for soul-less projects. Deep in the belly of a “quarter-life crisis”, I realized that the core of my problem was the massive (seemingly irreconcilable) divide between what I was solving, and who I was serving through that solving. I was unable to connect emotionally to the fact that I was actually serving and making a contribution to humans and humanity—despite company rhetoric—other than to the single human (my manager) who I was directly reporting to, and serving through the performance of my responsibilities; who was serving his manager through his performance, who was…all the way up to the investors. 

Unlike my peers, most of whom were unquestionably obedient and faithfully allegiant, I resisted. I could not yield myself to the omnipresent corporate godhead, and its mission and values. I hated my job, despite my mostly latent talent—recognized by several managers who took me under their wings—and spiraled into depression, coping in the typical ways of a disconnected twenty-something. As a result, and because of that disconnection, my performance and my reputation quickly waned, quite dramatically. 

After a long and arduous multi-year battle with myself, disliked by most of my coworkers; lost in a maze of depression; disempowered; disheartened; and dis-eased in mind, and body, I hit bottom when the perfect storm of symptoms manifested as a major health crisis, which presented a clear choice; life or death. Fortunately, that storm catalyzed a tectonic shift to the previously unshakable structures of my ego, resulting in a reconnection to life; and my desire to live.  Part by part, the “old me” died, as I re-designed and re-engineered my mind, body, and life according to the blueprints of eternal life I was discovering within my own body.

Lit-by-life, re-inspired, and sixty-five pounds lighter (see photo); I diligently applied myself at work and within a year had dug myself out of the ditch of my past, and was able to clean-up and polish most of my tarnished reputation, though stains remained in obsolete perceptions, projections, and strained relations. Regardless, my efforts were noticed by many and I received a promotion. Yet, despite this “achievement” I knew that I had arrived at the apex of my technical career.

Until this point, I had been able (for the most part) to ignore and push through a growing sense of dread and despair; yet something shifted when I was promoted—and I could no longer shake off, deny, or hide from what was haunting me and glaringly obvious; now highlighted by the juxtaposition of this promotion.

Like any other day I drove to work, parked my car, walked to the security gate, scanned my badge, walked through the gate and while walking towards the massive washed-out monolithic R&D building—my home-away-from-home—I began my daily 5-minute affirmation practice; “what if I quit today…”

But on this mid January bitter-cold and blustery midwest winter day, something unfamiliar happened. After one repetition, I stopped; and I noticed. On this particular day, the brutal winds I had long ago become numb to, blew open my protective coat of permafrost emotional armor, and for the very first time, I was exposed to, and felt, the vast emptiness and fullness of the frigid, bleak, dark, and terrifyingly deep waters of my emotions, which accompanied this previously inconsequential affirmation practice. Suddenly this simple thought, repeated thousands of times prior, was no longer inconsequential, but profoundly consequential, and with it came an intense and furious storm of feelings and emotions, unlike anything I had ever experienced.

For reasons far beyond reason, I could not escape this monstrous beast of a thought, which was now hooked into my psyche; nor the bottomless pit in my gut; nor the profuse sweating and shaking that came when imagining following through on such a thought. After several hours of pounding waves of sickness, mental torment, emotional struggle, bouts of freak out, walking in literal circles, wrestling with strange psychic sea creatures, and a brief talk with my brother; I came to clarity. I knew what I had to do—and it literally sickened me.

I had no choice, but to courageously choose destiny; for on this day, destiny had chosen me.

While I had jokingly spoken of quitting thousands of times before (I’m not exaggerating), here I was, in it; in the direct experience; in the unfamiliar waters of my body; without the anchor of my previous dependable mind; in the eye of the storm, and it was profoundly scary, intense, and cathartic.

I sat down at my desk, updated the resignation letter I had written many years back, and printed it out. I called my manager, who had advocated for my promotion, and asked him to meet me in the conference room before he left for the weekend. We sat down, and without words (because I was so nervous I couldn’t speak), but with deep trepidation, slid the paper across the table. He read over the short and formal letter and then asked me if I wanted to think about it over the weekend, to which I timidly responded, “No, I’ve made my decision.”

“I’ll wait until Monday to share with everyone, just in case you change your mind.”

I could sense his hope, despite my clarity and conviction.

Moments later we stood up and left the conference room, and with a terse goodbye, went our separate ways.

I slowly walked back to my desk to gather my things to go home. I noticed my breath and the air flowing through my nostrils; I noticed the beautiful golden light pouring through the windows; I noticed the subtle scent of the strange synthetic smells oozing into the hallway; I noticed the quiet of the office at 4pm on a Friday; I noticed the hum drum of activity in the distance as the evening shift was just getting going; I noticed the bland colors of my dull desk and the placement of the seemingly meaningless objects on my desk. I noticed who was in the office and who wasn’t, the perforations of presence in the space.

I gathered my things and as I walked out of the building, I noticed the people, the places, and the spaces I hadn’t noticed until this walk. I felt relieved, and I felt apprehensive. I felt excited, and I felt scared. I felt proud and I felt sad. I felt full, and I felt empty. I felt tired, and I felt energized. I mostly felt satiated; ready to head home for the weekend.

As I walked out the door, I felt the fullness of life, the fullness of this moment, the fullness and perfection of what just transpired…and I wondered, “did I really just do the thing I had been talking about for years?', but I couldn’t quite grasp the answer, though it was all right there, in the fullness.

Courage or stupidity, I wasn’t sure; for my mind already left for the day. Whatever it was, didn’t really matter, I did it—I pulled the plug; and made the terror-inducing, albeit absolutely necessary, course-correcting decision to resign; and to leave behind the proverbial safe harbors of comfort and familiarity then found for me in the realm of STEM; science, technology, engineering, and math.

This decision propelled me into an unimagined expeditionary and initiatory voyage; into the proverbial heart of personal and collective darkness; and into the totally unchartered and unmapped wild and wise waters of my body, and my life.