1-1 with Jon · Three months, held
The Gentle Container
You’ve felt different your whole life. And carried it alone.
Three months of private 1-1 work with a developmental trauma practitioner... for the quiet ones nobody has ever quite seen.
No pitch. If it’s not right, I’ll say so.
Maybe you know this
You’ve felt different for as long as you can remember.
Not dramatically. Quietly. Like everyone else was handed something you weren’t... some way of belonging that never quite reached you. So you learned to manage it the way you’ve managed everything: on your own.
And you’re good at it. Everyone around you thinks you’re fine. Calm, even. Inside, it’s noise.
You know the 2am version of you. The spiral that starts over nothing and swallows the night. The conversation you replay for days. The heaviness that arrives on an ordinary Tuesday and has nowhere to be put down... so you carry it. Quietly. Like always.
Thirty years, maybe more, of carrying it. And in all that time, through every friendship and family dinner and “how are you?”... the truest thing you could say is that no one has ever quite seen who you actually are. Not because they’re cruel. Because you learned, very young, not to be seen. It was safer.
So you’ve done what quiet people do: you’ve tried to understand your way out, alone. The books. The videos. Years of it. You understand yourself better than almost anyone you know... and still, on the bad nights, the oldest sentence in you comes back:
what’s wrong with me?
The reframe
Nothing is wrong with you. But something has been missing.
And it was never another book.
What if alone is the one way this can’t work? Not because you’re weak. Because of how nervous systems learn.
Whatever shaped you, happened in relationship... in the small things that weren’t there, over and over, before you had words for them. (And if part of you is already saying my childhood wasn’t that bad... that part is doing its job too.) A nervous system learns fear from other people, and it learns safety the same way. In relationship, through repetition. Never from a book, however good. Never from insight alone, however accurate.
That’s the ceiling you keep hitting. Not a discipline problem. Not a “didn’t try hard enough” problem. Understanding got you to the ceiling... it was never going to get you through it. The missing ingredient was never more knowing.
It was being accompanied.
From my own path
I know this ceiling from the inside, because I lived under it for thirty five years... including years of doing all the understanding alone.
What changed wasn’t a better book. During my own training, at the end of one of our sessions, my teacher Gaia paused and said something I’ve never forgotten:
“You know what sets you apart? You show up. Consistently. Open to whatever’s there.”
It wasn’t discipline. Discipline has never been my strong suit. It was that those sessions had quietly become non-negotiable for me... I could feel they were the thing changing my life.
And what all that showing up did was nothing dramatic. No single breakthrough, no cinematic release. Just, slowly, over months, with someone beside me... I started to feel safer. I trusted myself more. I became more me.
The Gentle Container is that ingredient, built into the shape of the work.
What it is
Three months. Three pieces. One rhythm. Never alone with it.
Six 1-1 sessions, one every two weeks... all scheduled at the start.
We find a standing slot together, and it becomes ours. You decide to show up once, on a good day... not six separate times, in six separate wobbles. The rhythm does the holding.
And if life throws something genuinely unmovable at either of us, we shift that one session and protect the rhythm.
A private thread with me, between the sessions... voice notes or written, whichever feels safer.
This is where the 2am version of you finally has somewhere to go. When something’s alive... a spiral starting, a decision, something a session stirred... you speak it into your phone, or type it if typing is how you breathe. Some things are easier to write than to say. Both are exactly right here. No scheduling, no being “on”, no need to be articulate. Messy and half-formed is exactly right.
And maybe for the first time, there’s somewhere to put the things you’ve never said out loud to anyone. A safe, private space to be heard... where saying the unsayable doesn’t cost you anything, and nothing you bring is too much.
It isn’t live chat, and I’m honest about that boundary: I listen to everything, and I reply every weekday. Small, steady contact... which, if you know my work, you’ll recognise as the thing that actually rewires this stuff.
Coming Home, included... the full £147 course, yours from day one.
My complete course... fourteen gentle walks, normally £147... comes with the container at no extra cost. We use it as the spine between sessions: I’ll point you at the right walk at the right moment, so the weeks between sessions have somewhere to stand.
Why this shape
The structure holds when resolve doesn’t.
I’ll tell you why it’s built like this, because the shape isn’t an accident.
I know what people like us do when something real gets close. We quietly find the exit. We book the thing, feel the opening... and then life gets busy, and we never quite go back. It’s not a lack of commitment. It’s protection, doing its job a little too well.
So the container assumes it. The sessions are scheduled before the wobble arrives. The thread stays open on the days courage is low. And if you go quiet in the middle... I come and find you, gently. Going quiet becomes something we work with, not the end of the story.
Just to be clear
What this isn’t
It isn’t open-ended therapy with no shape. Three months, a clear rhythm, and then we both look honestly at what’s next... which might be more, and might be a warm goodbye.
It isn’t a course with some calls bolted on. The 1-1 work is the work. Coming Home is the spine, not the substance.
It isn’t me fixing you. There’s nothing broken to fix. It’s a container where the parts of you that learned to hide can start to come out... at their pace, not mine.
It isn’t for crisis. If you’re in acute crisis right now, you need faster and more constant support than this can honestly offer, and on our first conversation I’ll help you find it.
And it isn’t a subscription that quietly runs forever. Three payments, then it stops. Nothing renews without us talking about it like adults.
The practical bit
One price. Two safety rails.
£250 a month
for the three months... sessions, thread and course included. Nothing after that.
Two founding places remain at £200 a month... founding members are helping me shape this first season, and the price reflects that. When they’re gone, the founding rate goes with them.
It starts with a free half hour conversation, where we work out together whether this is right for you. No pressure, no clever tricks. If it isn’t right, I’ll say so honestly and point you somewhere better.
If after our first full session either of us feels it’s not a fit... you get every penny back. No questions, no awkwardness.
Questions people ask
The ones that come up most
Why three months? Can’t I just book a session and see?
Because one session opens something, and it’s the showing up afterwards that changes things... and that’s exactly the part our protection sabotages. The three months isn’t a subscription trick. The commitment IS the treatment. And the first-session refund means the commitment never becomes a trap.
Why every two weeks and not weekly?
Because the work needs room to settle. A session opens something; the fortnight lets your system integrate it, with the thread there the whole time so you’re never carrying it alone. Weekly can become another performance. This rhythm is deliberate.
I’m not sure I can tell the difference between feeling something and thinking about feeling it. Honestly, I don’t feel much at all.
Then you’re exactly who this is for. That’s not a barrier to the work... it IS the work. Most of us who grew up needing to stay safe learned to live one step back from our experience, in the commentary rather than the thing itself. I did too. Building that distinction, slowly, in the body, is precisely what we do.
What if I go quiet halfway through?
Then I come and find you, gently. That’s the point of the container: the structure holds when your resolve doesn’t. You’d be amazed how often the wobble in the middle turns out to be the door.
Is the voice-note thread a crisis line?
No, and I’m careful about this because I care about you being properly supported. I listen to everything and reply every weekday. In a crisis you’d need more than that, and part of my job is making sure you have the right numbers for those moments.
What if I can’t afford it?
Then please don’t stretch into hardship for this... that’s not the nervous system state this work needs. The videos stay free every week, and Coming Home exists on its own for a fraction of the price. Start there. The container will still be here.
I’ve tried everything. Why would this be different?
Most of what you’ve tried was top down... books, frameworks, insight. Useful, but they can’t reach what’s stored in the body. And nearly all of it happened alone. This is body first, in relationship, with rhythm. Those are the three things the reading pile can’t give you.
About Jon
I’m Jon. NARM Practitioner. Being Me Therapist. Seven years of training with Gaia Pollini in developmental trauma work.
I came to this work the long way round. Cancer at 41. A twenty five year corporate career I left at 44. Thirty five years of believing I was the problem.
I’m not a guru, and I’m not interested in being one. My videos have been watched by hundreds of thousands of quiet people who recognise themselves in them. I’m someone a few steps ahead on the same path, turning around to say... it’s this way. Come with me.
The next step
One conversation. That’s the whole next step.
Half an hour, free, no pitch, nothing to prepare. We talk about where you are and whether this container is the right shape for it. If it is, I’ll show you in. If it isn’t, I’ll tell you straight and point you somewhere better.
Either way, you’ll have been seen. That’s not nothing.
You were never meant to do this alone. 💙
Book your free conversation
Pick a time below that suits you
Half an hour, on Google Meet, just us.