I’ve been sitting with our conversation since we recorded it, and I’m really looking forward to Part 2—especially diving deeper into what I’ve come to call the Dam, the Reservoir, the canalized river, and the Side Canyons.
These aren’t just metaphors—they’re parts of my own terrain, and they’ve shown up again and again as I’ve integrated more than 16 traumas. Each one followed a similar rhythm, and that pattern became the foundation of my model.
What I began to see, over time, is that true integration doesn’t happen just because we want it to. T
here’s a certain internal condition that must be met first—like fertile ground after rain. My model grew from that realization, after years of wandering through my canyon, often without a clear path.
I was always searching—always trying to become better, different, more of what others thought I “should” be. And I never arrived. I just kept circling, repeating, exhausting myself.
When I finally stopped, everything changed.
My body simply said: “No more. I’m done.” Not in a dramatic way—just a deep, worn-out, honest stop. No more complying, no more reacting on autopilot, no more pretending I could just keep going.
That’s when things began to shift.
What shocked me most was realizing how not in control I had been.
Even though I was aware and mindful, my body still reacted before I could catch up. And that’s not a flaw—it’s human. We are built to respond to threat autonomously. And yet, I needed to find a way to change those reactions.
That was the dilemma.
The turning point came when I started to observe myself like in slow motion. And what I saw?
95% of my reactions were not truly mine, and not even how I wanted to show up!
They were programmed responses—obedience, compliance, people-pleasing, survival. Conditioned into me by violence, fear, and the need to belong. I’d say it openly now: in April 2024, I realized that maybe only 5% of what I had called “me” was actually mine.
The Canyon Model rose from that reckoning.
And the walk continues. Thank you for holding space for it, Christine—and for everyone joining us.
I can’t wait to explore
the Dam, what build it,
the Reservoir and it's function,
the River and how it came to be canalized,
and the formation, of course, of our Side Canyons and why that is essential to understand for this model, next time.
Watched this live yesterday. Your journey was incredible. Your strength and courage so deep and embedded in you. I look forward to Part 2 and thank you for your bravery.
Thank you, Monica. I’m holding your words with care. It means a lot that you were there—live, present, and open to witnessing this part of my story.
What you call courage was, for me, simply truth that could no longer stay hidden. It wasn’t about being brave—it was about no longer being able to live exiled from myself.
I’m grateful that Part 1 reached you, and I’m already preparing to go deeper in Part 2—into the layers, the quiet turns, and the ways the Canyon Model keeps unfolding, not just for me, but maybe as a mirror for others too.
Thank you for recording this for those of us who missed the live video. So much of your trauma story resonates with me, from the oppressive childhood, to feeling coerced into an unfulfilling career path; feeling like I wasn't "allowed" to express my true gifts of an artistic nature, always living for others' success and not my own. I cried tears of understanding when you spoke of leaving your job after realizing you could no longer do that work. My break from my soul-crushing job came 2 years ago, and I'm still searching for my true purpose in what remains of my life. Your story is an inspiration to me, and a validation of my own journey in healing. My prayers go out to the universe that you, and I, and all who feel lost will find ourselves dancing with joy on the top of the mesa. Grace and blessings to you Jay.
I read your words slowly. They felt real and grounded. You named things I know in my own life—being pushed into a path that never fit, holding back what wanted to come through, feeling invisible even while functioning. Leaving that job wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I had reached a point where my system said no more. I didn’t know what would come next—still don’t fully—and I’m learning to be okay with that.
I also know what you mean with the search for purpose. For me, it only became possible after I stopped the spiral of toxic shame. That was the real turning point. I stepped down from work first—and then, slowly, I saw the full picture. Naming toxic shame as the hidden driver helped me understand what had shaped so much of my life. I wrote about this in a 2-part series, if you ever want to read more:
I understand completely your comments about work destroying one's health, as my job along with its toxic management caused physical as well as mental symptoms, to the result that I knew staying there any longer was not an option. I took some satisfaction in giving no notice other than letting my supervisor know 10 minutes before my workday ended that it was my last day there, and seeing the shocked look on her face was my vindication. I appreciate the links you provide here. I'll definitely read them, and gather your wisdom into my arsenal for further growth.
Brenda, thank you for sharing that part of your story. I want to gently add that your way of leaving—on the spot—speaks to a freedom that’s only possible in the U.S. In Germany, where I live, our employment laws are much stricter. Kündigungsfristen are binding, and walking out without notice isn’t something that’s legally or culturally viable here.
In my case, it wasn’t just a job—I had built the company for my late wife, and later took it over. So the decision to stop wasn’t about walking away. It was about finally admitting that I couldn’t keep going. My health didn’t collapse because of that job alone—it was everything that came before, and that job just kept the cycle going.
I couldn’t slam the door. I had to learn how to put things down gently, piece by piece, while the world around me kept moving.
So even though our paths differ, I deeply recognize that moment when you say “no more.” That’s the real crossing.
Thank you, Kathryn. That means a lot. I'm not trying to offer a grand conclusion—just sharing the path as it unfolds. The Canyon Model came from walking those layers, not theorizing them. And I’m still walking.
If anything in that live talk stayed with you or stirred something in your own story, I’d love to hear. This isn’t a one-way trail. It's a place where our canyons might echo each other, even if shaped by different weather.
There’s more that echoed and I’ll circle back but the thing that stood out most to me was early when you were talking about not fitting in with the girls (“you’re not a girl”) or the boys (“you’re not a boy”) and how painful that isolation is but also what I thought immediately was “you are both and also something else” which is a really amazing, powerful way to be in the world. When we can bring all parts of ourself to spaces and be seen for what we are instead of what we aren’t, so much magic happens. And I’m sorry that you (and I, and others) did not have childhoods that reflected that back to us. And by sharing your work, you are helping create that reflection back to others.
It not only made sense. I have found that I was socialized in both ways—partially as a female, because my gender was defined as such at birth, and partially as a boy, because my gender expression always leaned more toward the masculine. I was more than the classic tomboy, that too. I experienced bullying and aggression from male peers, and I always held my ground, until eventually they left me alone. Because of all that, I developed a not-so-common ability to see things from male, female, and non-binary perspectives—everything and nothing. And because I lived for so long without a fully accessible sense of self, I may also operate from a fourth dimension, blending qualities of both actor and actress.
I did the math, and 7,200 hours is 70 hours per week for 2 years. That's a lot. That's far too much. And that's not exaggeration to me. Because it's possible.
Some people talk about how much they work and they don't mean it. That's not the same as actors who say they work 115 hours per week but they're only shooting for so many hours and learning lines for so many other hours but spending many of those 115 hours not actually working but sitting in the trailer eating pizza and drinking whiskey. That's spending long hours at work, but that's not necessarily working hard. Jay is talking about working long and hard.
When you work 70 hours per week, or even 50 to 55 hours per week, and you go to 40 hours per week, life feels easy, in comparison. There's a reason that there are labor laws to protect people from working more than 40 hours per week, but corporations in the USA take advantage and the laws need to be reformed.
It has been proved that 30 hours vs 40 hours per week are just as productive. The USA has so much propaganda against it, because the countries that have proven the 30-hour work week are mostly European.
Cal Newport, and American professor has some good books about reasonable work hours for the week through the year. I recommend his books, Deep Work and Slow Productivity. Working 30-40 hours is enough, as long as you can maintain actual productivity time in that envelope. This is not lazy, it is reality, and it is human.
Yes one year 7200 and the other 6800, 70 hours was rather my standard fare per week, of course not all in the office, I worked from everywhere and for almost 20 years almost each and every holidays and vacations included, not full time but 3-5 hours instead of 10-16 it felt like vacation.
Thank you Andrew, the metaphor here is still only sketched roughly, I deem I can fill a book with it, if just my own simple description have 40 pages that still not includes everything.
Andrew, I am sorry, but you have a calculation error. The complete year has 8760 hours. One week has 168 hours. And 7200 hours in one year is a workload of 82.1% And per week that's 138 hours. We have very strict law in Germany too, yet I am traumatic over-functioning and nobody was able to stop me. I have worked approximately 220,000 hours during my 35 years of employment. The average German worker works about 66,000 hours in the same time.
Oh, I see. You said in the video that there were 2 years where you worked 7,200 hours of the xyz hours, so I thought you were saying you worked 7,200 hour over 2 years. It sounds like now you're saying that you worked that many hours each year. That's even worse. You're saying it's actually double, so that's working 140 hours per week on average, approximately. That's far too many hours to work.
Tracy, no need to apologize. We had an amazing 28 viewers for our first live! I know many people in the U.S. and Canada are working between 9 AM PST and 12 PM EST and can’t join a live during that window. That’s exactly why we have recordings.
Christine Castigliano
,
I’ve been sitting with our conversation since we recorded it, and I’m really looking forward to Part 2—especially diving deeper into what I’ve come to call the Dam, the Reservoir, the canalized river, and the Side Canyons.
These aren’t just metaphors—they’re parts of my own terrain, and they’ve shown up again and again as I’ve integrated more than 16 traumas. Each one followed a similar rhythm, and that pattern became the foundation of my model.
What I began to see, over time, is that true integration doesn’t happen just because we want it to. T
here’s a certain internal condition that must be met first—like fertile ground after rain. My model grew from that realization, after years of wandering through my canyon, often without a clear path.
I was always searching—always trying to become better, different, more of what others thought I “should” be. And I never arrived. I just kept circling, repeating, exhausting myself.
When I finally stopped, everything changed.
My body simply said: “No more. I’m done.” Not in a dramatic way—just a deep, worn-out, honest stop. No more complying, no more reacting on autopilot, no more pretending I could just keep going.
That’s when things began to shift.
What shocked me most was realizing how not in control I had been.
Even though I was aware and mindful, my body still reacted before I could catch up. And that’s not a flaw—it’s human. We are built to respond to threat autonomously. And yet, I needed to find a way to change those reactions.
That was the dilemma.
The turning point came when I started to observe myself like in slow motion. And what I saw?
95% of my reactions were not truly mine, and not even how I wanted to show up!
They were programmed responses—obedience, compliance, people-pleasing, survival. Conditioned into me by violence, fear, and the need to belong. I’d say it openly now: in April 2024, I realized that maybe only 5% of what I had called “me” was actually mine.
The Canyon Model rose from that reckoning.
And the walk continues. Thank you for holding space for it, Christine—and for everyone joining us.
I can’t wait to explore
the Dam, what build it,
the Reservoir and it's function,
the River and how it came to be canalized,
and the formation, of course, of our Side Canyons and why that is essential to understand for this model, next time.
Watched this live yesterday. Your journey was incredible. Your strength and courage so deep and embedded in you. I look forward to Part 2 and thank you for your bravery.
Thank you, Monica. I’m holding your words with care. It means a lot that you were there—live, present, and open to witnessing this part of my story.
What you call courage was, for me, simply truth that could no longer stay hidden. It wasn’t about being brave—it was about no longer being able to live exiled from myself.
I’m grateful that Part 1 reached you, and I’m already preparing to go deeper in Part 2—into the layers, the quiet turns, and the ways the Canyon Model keeps unfolding, not just for me, but maybe as a mirror for others too.
Let’s keep walking.
With warmth,
Jay
Thank you for recording this for those of us who missed the live video. So much of your trauma story resonates with me, from the oppressive childhood, to feeling coerced into an unfulfilling career path; feeling like I wasn't "allowed" to express my true gifts of an artistic nature, always living for others' success and not my own. I cried tears of understanding when you spoke of leaving your job after realizing you could no longer do that work. My break from my soul-crushing job came 2 years ago, and I'm still searching for my true purpose in what remains of my life. Your story is an inspiration to me, and a validation of my own journey in healing. My prayers go out to the universe that you, and I, and all who feel lost will find ourselves dancing with joy on the top of the mesa. Grace and blessings to you Jay.
Thank you for sharing this, Brenda.
I read your words slowly. They felt real and grounded. You named things I know in my own life—being pushed into a path that never fit, holding back what wanted to come through, feeling invisible even while functioning. Leaving that job wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I had reached a point where my system said no more. I didn’t know what would come next—still don’t fully—and I’m learning to be okay with that.
I also know what you mean with the search for purpose. For me, it only became possible after I stopped the spiral of toxic shame. That was the real turning point. I stepped down from work first—and then, slowly, I saw the full picture. Naming toxic shame as the hidden driver helped me understand what had shaped so much of my life. I wrote about this in a 2-part series, if you ever want to read more:
Part 1: How Dignity Transforms Shame (Part 1) https://open.substack.com/pub/wildlionessespride/p/how-dignity-transforms-shame-part1?r=1sss7q&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=false
Part 2: How Dignity Transforms Shame (Part 2) https://open.substack.com/pub/wildlionessespride/p/how-dignity-transforms-shame-part2?r=1sss7q&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=false
Thank you for meeting me here.
I understand completely your comments about work destroying one's health, as my job along with its toxic management caused physical as well as mental symptoms, to the result that I knew staying there any longer was not an option. I took some satisfaction in giving no notice other than letting my supervisor know 10 minutes before my workday ended that it was my last day there, and seeing the shocked look on her face was my vindication. I appreciate the links you provide here. I'll definitely read them, and gather your wisdom into my arsenal for further growth.
Brenda, thank you for sharing that part of your story. I want to gently add that your way of leaving—on the spot—speaks to a freedom that’s only possible in the U.S. In Germany, where I live, our employment laws are much stricter. Kündigungsfristen are binding, and walking out without notice isn’t something that’s legally or culturally viable here.
In my case, it wasn’t just a job—I had built the company for my late wife, and later took it over. So the decision to stop wasn’t about walking away. It was about finally admitting that I couldn’t keep going. My health didn’t collapse because of that job alone—it was everything that came before, and that job just kept the cycle going.
I couldn’t slam the door. I had to learn how to put things down gently, piece by piece, while the world around me kept moving.
So even though our paths differ, I deeply recognize that moment when you say “no more.” That’s the real crossing.
Really enjoyed this and appreciate you sharing your truths.
Thank you, Kathryn. That means a lot. I'm not trying to offer a grand conclusion—just sharing the path as it unfolds. The Canyon Model came from walking those layers, not theorizing them. And I’m still walking.
If anything in that live talk stayed with you or stirred something in your own story, I’d love to hear. This isn’t a one-way trail. It's a place where our canyons might echo each other, even if shaped by different weather.
Thanks for being here.
There’s more that echoed and I’ll circle back but the thing that stood out most to me was early when you were talking about not fitting in with the girls (“you’re not a girl”) or the boys (“you’re not a boy”) and how painful that isolation is but also what I thought immediately was “you are both and also something else” which is a really amazing, powerful way to be in the world. When we can bring all parts of ourself to spaces and be seen for what we are instead of what we aren’t, so much magic happens. And I’m sorry that you (and I, and others) did not have childhoods that reflected that back to us. And by sharing your work, you are helping create that reflection back to others.
I hope that made sense?
It not only made sense. I have found that I was socialized in both ways—partially as a female, because my gender was defined as such at birth, and partially as a boy, because my gender expression always leaned more toward the masculine. I was more than the classic tomboy, that too. I experienced bullying and aggression from male peers, and I always held my ground, until eventually they left me alone. Because of all that, I developed a not-so-common ability to see things from male, female, and non-binary perspectives—everything and nothing. And because I lived for so long without a fully accessible sense of self, I may also operate from a fourth dimension, blending qualities of both actor and actress.
That ability to see things from many perspectives and with great empathy shines through in the way you talk and is a great strength. <3
I did the math, and 7,200 hours is 70 hours per week for 2 years. That's a lot. That's far too much. And that's not exaggeration to me. Because it's possible.
Some people talk about how much they work and they don't mean it. That's not the same as actors who say they work 115 hours per week but they're only shooting for so many hours and learning lines for so many other hours but spending many of those 115 hours not actually working but sitting in the trailer eating pizza and drinking whiskey. That's spending long hours at work, but that's not necessarily working hard. Jay is talking about working long and hard.
When you work 70 hours per week, or even 50 to 55 hours per week, and you go to 40 hours per week, life feels easy, in comparison. There's a reason that there are labor laws to protect people from working more than 40 hours per week, but corporations in the USA take advantage and the laws need to be reformed.
It has been proved that 30 hours vs 40 hours per week are just as productive. The USA has so much propaganda against it, because the countries that have proven the 30-hour work week are mostly European.
Cal Newport, and American professor has some good books about reasonable work hours for the week through the year. I recommend his books, Deep Work and Slow Productivity. Working 30-40 hours is enough, as long as you can maintain actual productivity time in that envelope. This is not lazy, it is reality, and it is human.
Thank you, Jay for sharing your story
Yes one year 7200 and the other 6800, 70 hours was rather my standard fare per week, of course not all in the office, I worked from everywhere and for almost 20 years almost each and every holidays and vacations included, not full time but 3-5 hours instead of 10-16 it felt like vacation.
That's true - it's relative. And productivity suffers.
Love the art and imagery of the canyon, river, walls, dam, side canyon, underwater, flowing, mapping, remapping, etc.
Thank you Andrew, the metaphor here is still only sketched roughly, I deem I can fill a book with it, if just my own simple description have 40 pages that still not includes everything.
Andrew, I am sorry, but you have a calculation error. The complete year has 8760 hours. One week has 168 hours. And 7200 hours in one year is a workload of 82.1% And per week that's 138 hours. We have very strict law in Germany too, yet I am traumatic over-functioning and nobody was able to stop me. I have worked approximately 220,000 hours during my 35 years of employment. The average German worker works about 66,000 hours in the same time.
Oh, I see. You said in the video that there were 2 years where you worked 7,200 hours of the xyz hours, so I thought you were saying you worked 7,200 hour over 2 years. It sounds like now you're saying that you worked that many hours each year. That's even worse. You're saying it's actually double, so that's working 140 hours per week on average, approximately. That's far too many hours to work.
Sorry I missed it - will catch the recording.
Tracy, no need to apologize. We had an amazing 28 viewers for our first live! I know many people in the U.S. and Canada are working between 9 AM PST and 12 PM EST and can’t join a live during that window. That’s exactly why we have recordings.