I'm James,
the owner & operator of the life relief project

I didn't create The Life Relief Project because I'd got life figured out.Quite the opposite.I'd had a period of my life that was bloody difficult. I'd broken my back. I'd lost my mum. My best friend who was akin to my younger brother, had died by suicide. And somewhere amongst all of that, I had to start looking at stuff from my own childhood that I'd become very good at carrying around with me.Some of it showed up as anger, some a bit darker. Some of it I didn't even realise I was carrying until life made it pretty difficult to keep ignoring.

I'm not going to tell you I'm "healed."I'm not sure I even believe that's how being human works.What I can say is I've been there.And I've learned a couple of things along the way that have fundamentally changed how I look at myself and other people. They're not always easy to swallow at first, but for me they've become pretty undeniable truths.What happened, happened. It couldn't have happened any other way, because it didn't.That doesn't mean what happened was okay. It doesn't excuse it. It doesn't mean you have to like it.It simply means I can't change yesterday. I can only decide how much of yesterday I'm going to keep dragging through today.The other thing I've come to believe is that;
People are generally doing the best they can in any moment within their current awareness and capacity.For me, capacity was the important word.It helped me look differently at people who had hurt me. More importantly, it helped me look differently at myself.Before The Life Relief Project, I'd worked in trades and owned several related businesses. I'd also taught trades in schools, colleges and prisons, and worked in, event management and marketing.None of that particularly prepared me for what happened next.I knew I needed to do something.I just didn't know what.Eventually, out of something pretty close to desperation, I decided go big or go home and signed up for a 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat.

Ten days of silence. Up at 4am. No devices, no reading material, no caffeine, simple vegetarian food, no contact with the outside world - and around ten hours of motionless, cross-legged meditation a day.It was miserable.It was painful.It was confronting.And it was transformational.

I came away thinking everybody should do this.There was just one fairly obvious problem.Almost nobody I knew was going to.Most of my friends weren't going to disappear for ten days, sit in silence and meditate from before sunrise until evening. And even if they did, it wasn't exactly something you'd casually bring up at a barbecue without someone wondering when you'd become that guy.So I started looking for something else.Something that might give people a measure of the same kind of result in a way that was accessible - it didn't need to be a 'one and done' affair and could be an experience they could return to, build upon, and fit into an ordinary life.Something that didn't require ten days, a belief system, a new identity, or something you felt you had to whisper about to your mates afterwards.

Eventually I found 9D Breathwork.And maybe, just like you, I was sceptical.Again, I thought, “go big or go home.”So I got on a plane to Melbourne to meet 9D's biggest facilitator, Gaz Wright, and his team at Hope Cartel.

And what I discovered was something that fitted with what I'd already begun to understand.You can't change what happened. But you can change your relationship with what happened.The loss is still the loss. The childhood still happened. The thing you did or didn't do is still part of your story.9D doesn't rewrite any of that.But I've found it can change the way you carry it - and sometimes that's the change that matters.What interested me wasn't a promise that it would fix people.It was that somebody could walk into a room without having to explain themselves, put on a pair of headphones, close their eyes and have their own experience.No sharing circle.No beliefs required.No need to tell anyone what happened to them.And nobody telling you how deep you have to go.You're the driver.That's really what The Life Relief Project grew from.I wanted to create the sort of place I'd want to walk into myself.Not because I'm healed. Not because I've finished doing the work. And certainly not because I've got everything figured out.Life keeps happening.We keep carrying things.Sometimes we put something down. Sometimes we discover something else underneath it. Sometimes we simply need somewhere to reset before we pick life back up again.That's what I wanted this place to be.Practical. Safe. Human.A place where you don't need to be broken - but it's okay if that's how you feel.You don't even need to know why you're there.Maybe you're stressed. Maybe you're grieving. Maybe you're carrying something from 30 years ago. Maybe your mate talked you into coming. Maybe you're just curious.Or maybe you know you need to do something but you're not quite sure what.Whatever brought you through the door, you're welcome and remain in control of what happens next.You've carried it long enough.

The Life Relief Project is operated by James Francis Wylie, NZBN 9429054009042