My name is Alex, thirty-eight years old in November 2023, living in the shabby attic at 17 Marine Parade, Brighton, East Sussex. The apartment is exactly 187 meters from the seafront if you take the shortcut through the graffiti-covered cobbled alley. Every morning, the gentle sound of the waves on Brighton's pebble beach mixes with the cries of seagulls on the grey tiled roof of the next house, seeping through the cracked wooden window frame. Twelve years ago, I opened the Salt Breath Studio at 148 Kings Road Arches, right next to the famous ice cream shop Boho Gelato, where the smell of hot waffles always mingled with the scent of sea salt and fries. The driftwood sign I personally sanded and painted the white words “Breathe here” with marine-grade acrylic paint. Hundreds of people stepped into that 42-square-meter Scandinavian pine-floored room, left their shoes by the door, sat down on the forest-green zabuton cushions I ordered from Chiang Mai, and let me guide them through Anapana 16-stage meditation, Metta Bhavana detailed for each object (self – loved one – neutral person – difficult person – all beings), or Energy Clearing combining Reiki and pranic healing that I learned from Usha & Venu Gopal in Rishikesh, Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche at Ligmincha Nepal, and the months of Zazen meditation at Wat Phra Kaew, Bangkok.
But since March 2022, I stopped setting foot in that room myself. The frosted glass door was covered in dust, and I flipped the wooden sign over, hastily scrawling with a marker: “Closed until further notice – indefinitely”. I cancelled the entire three-day retreat schedule “Into the Silence” at Beachy Head, South Downs; cancelled the “Heal the Healer” workshop series I organized for 120 yoga teachers in Brighton, London, Bristol; and cancelled the 300-hour Meditation Teacher Training course I prepared for 14 months, which had already enrolled 38 students from 9 countries. My iPhone 13 Pro was full of unread messages: “Alex, I just lost my mother to cancer, I need you so much”; “Teacher, is the Thursday class still on?”; “Alex, I’m contemplating suicide, can you please reply to me?”. Reading them felt like my chest was being squeezed by barbed wire; I turned off the screen and threw the phone onto the cream Italian leather sofa, which had a few tears along the edges.
I still wake up at 5:30 AM by old habit, pull back the ash-grey linen curtain, and watch the sunrise paint the Brighton sea pink. But that brilliant light only highlighted the lead-grey in my eyes. I made a glass of warm lemon water with half a lemon from the local Brighton market, added a little pink Himalayan salt, placed it on the wooden table recycled from Shoreham port pallets, and sat down to try to meditate. After only 7–8 minutes, my breathing started becoming chaotic like hyperventilation, my chest felt tight as if pressed by a 50 kg rock, and my mind was spinning with thousands of self-doubt questions: “Who are you to teach people peace? You once guided people through trauma, through loss, through end-stage cancer using pranayama Nadi Shodhana ratio 1-4-2, by visualising a violet flame at the crown chakra, using the Reiki level II distance symbol Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen, and now you yourself are as dry as the Atacama desert?” I jumped up, opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc 2021 from Marlborough, and poured a full 300 ml Riedel glass even though it was only 6:03 AM. The chilling 9°C wine sliding down my oesophagus temporarily paralysed the screaming black hole in my chest.
Sofia, my wife – the lead pharmacist at Boots on the corner of Western Road & Dyke Road – had been sleeping separately in the study since July 2022. She didn't argue, didn't blame me, just silently moved her feather pillow and thin linen blanket to the folding bed amidst stacks of documents on medicinal herbs, essential oils, and Bessel van der Kolk’s book “The Body Keeps the Score” which she re-read constantly. Some nights I woke up at 2:41 AM, walked out to the creaking wooden hallway, and saw the 2700K LED desk lamp light on her face – her eyes red from silent crying. I stood silently outside the door, wanting to say “I’m sorry,” but my throat was choked as if I’d swallowed Brighton sand. I retreated to the bedroom, listening to the distant waves and my own heart beating a frantic 110 bpm.
I tried every protocol that I myself had prescribed for my students. I drove my white Subaru Outback 2018 up to the Peak District alone, parking beneath the cliffs of Stanage Edge in a torrential winter rain of 42 mm/hour. I sat on the soaked gritstone rock for three straight days, trying Tonglen meditation (breathing in the suffering of all beings, breathing out compassion), trying to visualise white light from Brahmarandhra flowing down all 72,000 nadis. I returned home just as empty as before. I fasted for four days in the apartment, drinking only fresh coconut water from 12 Thai coconuts that Sofia’s mother had flown over, lying in the dark room with the 100% blackout curtains drawn. Still nothing. I flew to Bali, signed up for a 10-day Vipassana course at Thekchen Ling in Ubud, strictly observing Noble Silence. On the seventh day, while doing a body sweep from the crown to the feet, I suddenly felt a primal fear well up – the fear of having nothing left to give. I quietly stood up, grabbed my Osprey 40-litre backpack, left the hall, took a Grab to a hotel on Sayan Ridge, binge-watched season 6 of “The Crown” on Netflix and ate an entire large bag of sea salt-flavoured potato chips (250 grams). Flying back to Heathrow, I sat in seat 42A looking at the stratocumulus cloud layer, tears streaming down my face, the feeling of failure heavier than my 29.8 kg checked luggage.
I started doubting myself pathologically. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror tiled with 60x60 white tiles, looking at the man who weighed 74 kg (down 11 kg in 9 months), with deep-set eyes, long messy hair, and whispering: “You are a fraud. You take money from the suffering in exchange for empty phrases.” I drank red wine every night, starting with one glass of 150 ml, then two, then the whole bottle of Chapel Down English red 2018 – 14.5% alc/vol. I told myself it was just to sleep, but it was actually to avoid facing myself. One night I sat on the cold terrazzo kitchen floor, leaning against the Sub-Zero fridge, hugging the bottle and sobbing like a child lost from its mother.
The breaking point came on a Friday afternoon, November 17, 2023, with a typical English winter drizzle of 6°C in Brighton. I wandered down to The Bucket List cafe under Brighton Palace Pier, ordering a double shot flat white even though it was 4:12 PM. I sat at the outermost wooden table, tiny raindrops from the sea wind hitting my face. An elderly Thai woman, probably over 84, wearing a light purple cashmere sweater, her silver hair neatly tied with a river pearl clip, sat down at the table next to mine and ordered unsweetened Thai milk tea in perfect Bangkok accent. For some reason, I blurted out a conversation in the clumsy Thai I learned in 2013.
«ขอโทษครับ…ฝนตกแบบนี้ยังมาเดินทะเลอีกเหรอครับ?» (Excuse me… are you still walking by the sea even with this rain?)
She smiled gently, her eyes squinting like a crescent moon.
«มาจากกรุงเทพฯ มาเยี่ยมลูกสาวค่ะ ที่นี่ฝนเหมือนหน้าฝนบ้านเรานะคะ คุณดูเศร้าๆ นะ» (I came from Bangkok to visit my daughter. The rain here is like our rainy season, isn't it? You look sad.)
I intended to offer a weak smile, but tears streamed out uncontrollably. I told her everything, in a mixture of awkward English and Thai, that I had guided hundreds of people through severe depression, divorce, and end-stage cancer using Bhramari pranayama 11 rounds, through chakra balancing with a 7 cm amethyst crystal placed correctly on the Ajna position, using the Reiki distance symbol Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen combined with an enhanced Cho Ku Rei, but now I myself was as dry as a desert. The old woman listened, her hand gently placed on the back of mine, surprisingly warm.
«ที่ไทยมีคำเก่าแก่คำหนึ่งค่ะ ครูก็ต้องมีครู คุณลืมไปแล้วหรือเปล่าว่าคุณก็เป็นมนุษย์คนหนึ่ง ไม่ต้องช่วยใครคนเดียวก็ได้ การยอมให้ใครสักคนช่วยเรา ก็เป็นการช่วยตัวเองรูปแบบหนึ่งนะคะ» (There is an old saying in Thailand. A teacher must also have a teacher. Have you forgotten that you are also a human being? You don't have to help everyone alone. Allowing someone to help us is also a form of helping yourself.)
That day, when I got home, for the first time in 19 months, I wrapped my arms around Sofia from behind as she was washing Duralex glass cups in the 304 stainless steel sink. I sobbed like a child, my tears soaking her grey Uniqlo Airism T-shirt. Sofia didn't ask anything, just held my hand tightly for a long time, so much that I could feel her steady pulse of 78 bpm.
The Digital Door: StrongBody AI
Three days later, Sofia quietly placed the midnight colored MacBook Air M2 on the Danish pine dining table, opening a pre-bookmarked Chrome tab.
“I heard from my pharmacist friend in Manchester. StrongBody AI – a new platform launched in June 2023, exclusively for burnout wellness practitioners. They connect 1-on-1 directly with global clients, no need for a physical meditation studio, no need for Instagram ads, no need to worry about payment gateways. You should try it.”
I gave a weak laugh, my voice hoarse from wine and lack of sleep. “Another app? I hate technology. I only know how to sit with a Tibetan singing bowl.” But that night, after Sofia was asleep, I tried it. The interface was white and aquamarine, with a gentle Inter font, and a subtle breathing animation in the header. The Practitioner Onboarding section had a separate category for “Meditation & Energy Healing – Live & Distance”. I read the introduction in English and its automatic translation into 28 languages:
“StrongBody AI – Where holistic practitioners meet seekers across oceans, in real time, with zero geographical limits. AI-powered matching | Encrypted end-to-end video | Auto timezone conversion | Real-time translation | Integrated secure payment | Practitioner wellbeing tools.”
I closed the laptop, my heart pounding at 102 bpm from the fear of my own self.
Two weeks later, a message popped up from Michael – my breathwork friend in Edinburgh:
“Bro, I got 9 1-on-1 bookings from Thailand, Singapore, and Germany in the first week on StrongBody. The price is $220/75 minutes, and I’m fully booked for 3 weeks. Their AI matching is insane, only sending clients right in the Wim Hof + trauma-informed niche. You should try it, I think it was created for people like us who are… completely burnt out.”
I was still hesitant. I was afraid of rejection. I was afraid of myself. But on a stormy night in December 2023, with level 8 winds battering the Marine Parade window, I woke up at 3:07 AM, opened the laptop, and with trembling hands, filled out the StrongBody AI registration form.
The verification process took exactly 14 days and 6 hours. They required:
- A color scan of the ICRT Reiki Master 2016 certificate
- A scan of the 500h Yoga Alliance Meditation & Pranayama 2018 certificate
- A 10-minute demo video of Distance Energy Healing (I filmed it with my iPhone 13 Pro, 4K 60fps, placed on a Manfrotto tripod in front of the sea-view window, demonstrating the full protocol: grounding – shielding – invoking symbols – beaming – sealing)
- A 45-minute Zoom interview (originally scheduled for 20 minutes) with reviewer Maria Santos – a Filipino, master NLP, who worked for Insight Timer for 10 years. Maria asked deeply: “Alex, when you burnout, what do you do to protect your own energy before you serve clients?” I was silent for 20 seconds, and then I cried right there on Zoom. Maria didn't interrupt, she just gently said: “That’s exactly why we need practitioners like you on the platform. Welcome.”
One day the system reported an error uploading the 4K video – “File too large, max 500 MB”. I was so frustrated that I slammed my hand on the wooden desk in pain, and messaged the support chat at 2:14 AM. Just 11 minutes later, a person named Rajesh Kumar from Bangalore replied, sending a link with instructions to compress the video using Handbrake with the “Fast 1080p30” preset, along with step-by-step screenshots. I sat and cried alone in the study, feeling for the first time that I was not alone in the technical world I once detested.
On December 28, 2023, the email popped up: “Congratulations Alex – Your practitioner profile is LIVE.”
I posted my first service: “Private Energy Alignment & Deep Meditation – 75 minutes – Live from Brighton Sea (Distance Reiki + Guided Visualisation + Trauma-informed Breathwork)” I priced it at only $89 USD because I didn't believe anyone would book.
Three days, not a single booking. I fell back into the old cycle, about to delete the account, when at 11:47 PM on December 31, 2023, my phone vibrated. A StrongBody AI notification: “Pimchanok Srisuk (Bangkok) has booked an appointment for 19:00 GMT Friday 05/01/2024 – paid $89 USD” Her first message (automatically translated real-time into standard English by AI): “Alex, I watched your verification video ‘Healing the Healer’ three times. I’m an ICU nurse at Siriraj Hospital, 4 years post-pandemic. I haven’t slept more than 3 hours/night in 18 months. I have panic attacks in the elevator. Can you help me?”
The first session took place via StrongBody AI's proprietary video call feature – with a latency of less than 140 ms, end-to-end encrypted, with automatic background blur or the option to show the real Brighton seaside view. I sat in the living room, behind me the large window overlooking the deep red sunset of January 5th. Pimchanok was in her 1K apartment in Sukhumvit, wearing light pink Muji cotton pyjamas, her eyes more deeply shadowed than mine. We performed the physiological sigh (2 deep nasal inhales – 1 long oral exhale) 5 times, then 4-7-8 breathing 8 rounds. I then guided her to place her right hand on her heart, her left hand on her lower abdomen, and visualise a stream of aquamarine energy flowing from me through the screen to her – I genuinely drew the Cho Ku Rei + Sei He Ki + Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen symbols in the space in front of me. For the first time in 693 days, I felt a true energy flow – warm, high-frequency vibration, vibrant – running down my spine as I helped another person. When the session ended, Pimchanok cried bitterly, saying in Thai (AI translated instantly): “หนูไม่เคยรู้สึกเบาขนาดนี้ตั้งแต่ก่อนโควิดเลยค่ะ ขอบคุณมากค่ะพี่ Alex” (I have never felt this light since before Covid. Thank you very much, P' Alex.)
From then on, the schedule on StrongBody AI started filling up, then became fully booked. Their AI matching engine learned quickly: by the third week, it was sending me clients perfectly matching the “medical professionals burnout + spiritual but not religious + prefer energy work” profile. A single mother in Hackney, London booked a 12-session package for “Post-divorce Energy Rebuild & Inner Child Healing”. An oil engineer in Stavanger, Norway needed 8 sessions for “Chakra Reset for Chronic Fatigue Syndrome & 20-year shoulder pain”. A yoga teacher in Alfama, Lisbon wanted to learn “Advanced Distance Reiki for Teachers” to pass on to her students. A Dubai businessman booked a session for 5 AM UAE time (12 PM Brighton time) for “Pre-board-meeting Grounding & Nervous System Regulation” before pitching a $200 million fund. StrongBody AI automatically converted time zones, automatically sent private Zoom links with a password, and automatically translated messages real-time into Thai (DeepL integration), Portuguese, Arabic, and Norwegian. Payments via Stripe + PayPal + Wise automatically deducted the 15% platform fee, and the money cleanly arrived in my HSBC account every Monday.
But it wasn't always smooth. In the eighth week, the StrongBody AI server in Singapore underwent maintenance right during the golden hour of 19:00-22:00 GMT with European clients. I panicked and messaged support. That time I waited 40 minutes for a reply; I sat with my head in my hands, crying, afraid the clients thought I had abandoned them. A client in Austin, Texas requested a $249 refund because “I didn’t feel anything through the screen” – I lost sleep for three nights, questioning my entire ability. Some days I ran seven back-to-back sessions from 6 AM to 11 PM, my voice hoarse, my hands trembling, and I would cry again, hugging the bottle of red wine, afraid I was fooling people once more.
Every time this happened, Sofia would pull me out to the tiny balcony, brew peppermint tea from leaves grown in a Thai ceramic pot, and force me to look at the night sea glittering with container ship lights. “You are saving people, but you are also being saved. With every session you do, you are retrieving a piece of yourself. Don't forget that.” Or I would message the old woman in the purple sweater – she was back in Bangkok now, but every Tuesday, she would still send me photos of the cherry blossoms at Wat Arun temple with the message: «คุณทำได้ดีมากแล้ว อ่อนโยนกับตัวเองหน่อยนะคะ วันนี้คุณก็ช่วยใครอีกคนแล้ว» (You have done very well. Be gentle with yourself. You have helped someone else today.)
Gradually, I learned to say no when my schedule was too full. I enabled StrongBody’s “Pause new bookings” feature when I needed a break, and for the first time dared to increase my price from $189 → $219 → $249/75-minute session – and was still fully booked for four consecutive weeks. I reopened Salt Breath Studio at Kings Road Arches, but only took a maximum group of eight people on Saturday mornings, shifting everything else online via StrongBody AI. I hired an old teaching assistant to handle the offline classes, while I focused on 1-on-1 online sessions – because I realised the deepest energy work often happened in the private space of the screen.
In 2024, I flew to Thailand three times, organizing the “Ocean to Mountain” retreat on Koh Yao Noi (Six Senses resort + meditation in Phang Nga Bay), and then “Silent Autumn” in Chiang Mai – all 28 students were previous clients from StrongBody AI, flying in from Oslo, Stavanger, Dubai, Cape Town, São Paulo, and Seattle to meet me in person. One session, I sat amidst the bamboo forest in Mae Kampong with Pimchanok – she had now reduced her ICU shifts, opened a yoga class for nurses in Bangkok, and called me "ajaan" (teacher) with a smile that no longer had deep shadows.
In 2025, StrongBody AI launched the Practitioner Wellbeing Suite: AI voice assistant “Aria” to remind me to rest when it detected my voice was hoarse via voice analysis, automatically suggested a “Compassionate Decline Message” when I was overloaded, and a dedicated dashboard tracking “Energy Credit vs Energy Debt” based on the number of sessions + client emotional feedback. I laughed when I first saw the chart show “Energy Debt -41%” – for the first time in my life, I had a metric to measure exhaustion.
Today, November 21, 2025, I sit on the newly upgraded wooden porch at Marine Parade, with a cup of phin coffee from robusta beans Sofia brought back from Chiang Mai last summer, looking at the rare sunny winter sea of Brighton at 12°C. On my iPhone 16 Pro, the StrongBody AI dashboard shows the metrics:
- 347 5.00-star reviews
- 1,128 completed sessions
- Clients from 48 countries
- Total revenue: $312,940 USD (after platform fees)
- Energy Debt: 4% (green – healthy)
I have helped 1,128 people find their breath again – from the Bangkok nurse, the Norwegian oil engineer, the single London mother, the Lisbon yoga teacher, the Dubai businessman, to an anaesthesiologist in Buenos Aires who overcame suicidal ideation last week.
And most importantly, I have found my own breath again – deep, slow, full, no longer intermittent.
StrongBody AI is not a miracle cure. The server still lags 3 seconds occasionally when a client is in Namibia. Support sometimes replies 38 minutes late. The algorithm occasionally recommends a client who is too new to energy work. But it did what no therapist, no retreat, no 10-day meditation course could do: it gave me back the bridge to continue my mission when my own legs felt broken, when I had already let go of myself.
I am no longer just a “spiritual companion” on a 24-hour Instagram story. I am truly that person – for Pimchanok in Bangkok, for Ingrid in Oslo, for Maria in Lisbon, for Ahmed in Dubai, for Sofia right beside me every morning, and most importantly, for myself in Brighton.
Thank you to the old woman in the purple sweater on that rainy beach – she passed away last year, but her daughter still sends me photos of the Wat Arun lotus flowers every autumn with the message her mother told her.
Thank you to Sofia for not letting go of me even when I had let go of myself.
Thank you to Pimchanok and the 1,128 hearts that believed in me when I no longer believed in myself.
And thank you to StrongBody AI – the silent digital companion that helped me, from a small 42-square-meter attic in Marine Parade, Brighton, East Sussex, to reach the waiting hearts in 48 countries, and then return, for the first time in a very long time, to my own heart – whole, warm, and still having plenty of energy to give.
Getting Started with StrongBody AI
Step 1: Create a Seller Account
- Visit strongbody.ai and click “Sign Up”.
- Select the role “Seller”.
- Enter your email, create a strong password, and add a referral code (if you have one).
- Verify your account via email OTP to activate it.
Step 2: Complete Your Profile
- Go to Buyer Dashboard → Profile Settings.
- Add your name, country, and profession (e.g., “diabetes management”, “stress reduction”).
- Upload a profile picture for better connection. Tip: A detailed profile helps customers believe more in you.
Step 3: Setup your Services and product
- Access Seller Dashboard from the main menu.
- Create your first service or Product
- Add details: description, detail processes or ingredients, images, price, expert information, and your commitment.
Step 4: Publish
- Click "Publish" to show you to the world.
- Done.
Step 5: Get order or request from clients
- Receive orders from clients around the world.
Step 6: Communicate with Your client
- Chat in real time via Active Message.
- Receive a request on your products or services and make offers to meet clients specification.
Step 7: Process the order
- Process the order as negotiated with your client.
- Mark the order done.
Step 8: Get payment
- Get your payment after client confirmation immediately.
Are you ready to write your own great story?