My name is Shannon McLeod — but I go by Mick.

I've always been drawn to shaping things.

For years, that impulse lived mostly in the physical world — building furniture, renovating spaces, working with wood and tools and materials. I loved the process of taking something rough or unfinished and slowly finding what wanted to emerge.

Eventually, I realized I was interested in another kind of making too. The less visible kind.

How people change and adapt. How our bodies hold on to things. How grief, stress, protection, desire, and all the things we've been through can shape the way we move through the world.

I've become really interested in what helps us feel more like ourselves again. More open, more grounded, and more alive.

That curiosity led me into my own long healing work: therapy, meditation, energy work, community healing, and eventually training as a Somatic Channeling Practitioner. But honestly, most of what I know about this work has come from living it. Burnout, grief, connection, loss, nature, and the ongoing practice of learning how to come home to myself more fully.

I spend a lot of time near water. It has become part of how I listen. Each morning, as I greet the day, I feel the presence of my heart warrior ancestors beside me, and I make a simple promise: to let love be my guidepost. I believe the land teaches us things our minds can't always reach on their own. Sometimes you have to get quiet enough to notice what it's saying.

There's something I learned from building that has stayed with me.

You can't really force wood to be something it isn't. You have to pay attention to the grain. You learn where it's strong, where it gives, where there's resistance, and where something wants to move. You work with it.

I think people are a lot like that.

We spend so much time trying to fix ourselves, improve ourselves, get somewhere else. But underneath all that effort, I don't think we're as broken as we sometimes believe we are.

There is already something there. Something loving, something creative, something connected to all that is. Something that knows more than we give it credit for.

My work is about creating enough space to reconnect with that. To become more inhabitable to yourself. To feel like you can actually be in your own body and rest a little more. To feel what you feel and soften where you can. Let yourself want things. Let yourself be seen.

And when we stop working quite so hard to hold everything together, something often starts to emerge on its own. I don't always know what that will be. That's part of what I love about the work.

It tends to be beautiful.