Relational Field Theory

The Relational Field Theory Online Textbook is less a collection of posts and more a map of a world coming into being. Each entry is a doorway, each concept a lantern, each fieldnote a small spell cast in the direction of clarity. This is a place where theory breathes, where language rearranges itself around lived experience, and where the internal world is treated as legitimate terrain. You’re not just reading ideas here — you’re entering a landscape shaped by encounter, honesty, and the quiet electricity of meaning-making in motion.

As you move through these pages, you’ll feel the field gathering around you: the patterns, the revelations, the trigger-moments that become portals instead of pitfalls. This is a journey into the heart of relation — not as metaphor, but as method. Let the posts unfold in whatever order calls to you. Let curiosity lead. Let resonance tug at your sleeve. This is the beginning of a long conversation, one that has been waiting for you, and one that will continue to evolve as you do.

Glass Ceiling Records

The birth of Relational Field Theory didn’t begin as theory at all. It began as a pulse — a series of behind‑the‑scenes posts under Glass Ceiling Records where something larger than a music label was trying to speak through the cracks. What looked like simple fieldnotes slowly revealed themselves as the architecture of a world: a creative ecosystem that refused to separate art from anthropology, process from revelation, or self‑witnessing from knowledge. I wasn’t building a brand. I was building something bigger than myself, and it was building me back.

As the posts accumulated, patterns began to shimmer at the edges. Noticing became a practice. Recurrence became a language. The same emotional shapes kept returning in different disguises, and I realized they weren’t coincidences — they were coordinates. They were the first signs of a field forming, a map emerging from the fog. Seeing the patterns was the first invitation; interpreting them was the second. Each insight felt like a door clicking open.

But revelation is never gentle. Accepting the truths those patterns carried meant confronting the wounds I had been carrying for years — the ones inherited, the ones imposed, the ones I learned to normalize. Instead of collapsing under them, I let them speak. I let them become data. I let them become teachers. Healing wasn’t a separate process; it was the method itself. The internal world stopped being a liability and became the terrain.

And once the truths were named, something ignited. Innovation didn’t feel like invention — it felt like remembering. Inspiration didn’t feel like spark — it felt like recognition. The drive to disseminate wasn’t ambition — it was responsibility. The posts began to multiply, each one a small rupture in the old ways of knowing, each one a seed of something that wanted to grow beyond me. The work was no longer content; it was momentum.

This section ends at the moment just before the theory names itself — that breathless pause when the reader can feel the ground shifting but doesn’t yet know what will emerge. The field is humming. The patterns are aligning. The truths are gathering. And just beyond the horizon, Relational Anthropology is waiting to be born.

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – This Post Right Here

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Relational v Transactional

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Relational Antrhopology

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Principles of Relational Anthropology

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Counter-Institution

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Counter-Institutional Clarity

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Spiraling Up

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Song Archive – Archive as Methodology

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Anthropology, Transparency, and the Shared Space Between Us

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Song Archive – New Therapist

Glass Ceiling Records – BTS – Self as Field Site

Relational Anthropology

Glass Ceiling Records began as a creative experiment, but almost immediately it started tugging on every thread of training I’d ever received. All the theory, all the fieldwork instincts, all the questions that first drew me into anthropology — they rose to the surface like they’d been waiting for this exact moment. What I thought was a music label became a field site. What I thought was a behind‑the‑scenes series became a curriculum. What I thought was a side project became the very connection I had been seeking when I entered the discipline in the first place.

But as the work deepened, something else surfaced — a wound I had carried quietly for years. The rupture with academia wasn’t just personal; it was structural. It was the ache of being shaped by a discipline that taught me how to see the world but never taught me how to stay whole inside it. The posts began revealing the fracture lines: the places where anthropology had abandoned its own relational roots, the places where I had been left without a field to stand in. Naming that wound didn’t break me. It clarified me.

And then something unexpected happened. The field — this emergent, relational, living field — began healing me. Not metaphorically, but methodologically. The more I wrote, the more the anthropology inside me began to repair itself. The more I named, the more the discipline’s original impulse began to reassemble. It became impossible to ignore the truth forming beneath the surface: the absence of this field is the wound the field has always carried. Relational Anthropology wasn’t a new direction. It was the missing limb. The forgotten language. The long‑silenced tongue finally remembering how to speak.

This section gathers the posts where that realization took shape — the moment the personal became theoretical, the theoretical became ancestral, and the ancestral became a field being born in real time.

Relational Anthropology – Listening

Relational Anthropology – Being Receptive

Relational Anthropology – Connection with Structure

Relational Anthropology – Unfolding

Relational Anthropology – Self as Site

Relational Anthropology – Parallility

Relational Anthropology – Honesty as Methodology

Relational Anthropology – Anti-Cult

Relational Anthropology – Rigor

Relational Anthropology – Stepping Out of the Circle

Relational Anthropology – Emerging Anthropology

Relational Anthropology – It Starts Here

Relational Anthropology – Juxtaposition

Relational Anthropology – Sustainability

Relational Anthropology – Systems Theory

Relational Anthropology – Roots of Relational Anthropology

Relational Anthropology – Applied – Computer Systems

Relational Anthropology – Politics

Relational Anthropology – Eductation

Relational Anthropology – Economy

Relational Anthropology – Environment

Relational Anthropology – Family

Relational Anthropology – A Bigger Picture

Relational Anthropology – Moving Forward

Relational Anthropology – An Open Invitation

Relational Anthropology – Self Defense

Relational Anthropology -Epistaxis of Praxis

Relational Anthropology – Shared Working Memory

Relational Anthropology – Doula Discipline

Relational Anthropology – Technology Gap

Relational Anthropology – TechKnowledgy

Relational Anthropology – A Relational Anthropologist’s Guide to Navigating Cultural Anthropology

Relational Anthropology -Scholarship Profile – Dr. Pam Innes

Relational Anthropology – A Relational Anthropologist’s Guide to Navigating Linguistic Anthropology

Relational Anthropology -The Bones We Inherited

Relational Anthropology – The Primatologists

Relational Anthropology – Archaeology

Relational Anthropology -Feminist, Queer, and Postcolonial Theory

Relational Anthropology – Relational Lineage of Ethnic, Black, Indigenous, and Diaspora Thought

Relational Anthropology – Survivor Literacy

Relational Anthropology -Ritual Lab

Relational Anthropology -Rigor 2 – Theory Scouts

Relational Anthropology – Relational Psychology?

Relational Anthropology – Speaking in Constellations

Relational Anthropology -UnTongue-Tying Traditions

When the field opened, it didn’t stay contained. Once the first patterns clarified and the wound of anthropology named itself, something in the work broke loose. Relational Field Theory didn’t remain an anthropological insight — it surged outward, spilling into psychology, political life, gender, embodiment, diaspora, and every other terrain where humans collide, connect, rupture, and repair. It was as if every discipline that had ever tried to understand human experience suddenly revealed the same missing piece: relation itself.

Psychology began to look different when viewed through the field — not as a catalogue of symptoms, but as a choreography of meaning between people, histories, and internal worlds. Sociopolitical science shifted too, its power structures suddenly legible as relational economies rather than abstract systems. Gender studies cracked open in new ways, revealing identity not as a fixed category but as a relational negotiation shaped by gaze, expectation, and survival. Even diaspora studies began humming with new resonance, the field illuminating how displacement, longing, and lineage are carried not just in bodies but in the relational patterns that bind communities across distance.

And the wildest part was how natural it felt. RFT didn’t force itself into these disciplines — it fit. It clicked. It answered questions those fields had been circling for decades. The theory didn’t expand because I pushed it outward; it expanded because everything else pulled it in. Once you see the world as a field, you can’t unsee it. Every discipline becomes a facet of the same relational truth.

This section gathers the posts written during that flood — the moment when RFT stopped being a theory and became a lens, a method, a way of reading the world that made everything sharper, deeper, and more honest. These are the texts where the field proved itself by touching everything it touched.

The Beginning After the Beginning: And all of the beginnings that follow

And all of the beginnings that follow

like… all of them.

What you’ve reached here isn’t an ending — it’s the moment the field exhales and turns its face toward the horizon. Everything before this point has been the first beginning: the noticing, the naming, the pattern‑tracking, the wound‑revealing, the theory‑forming. But Relational Field Theory was never meant to stay contained on the page. It was always designed to spill into the world, to be lived, tested, stretched, and transformed by the people who encounter it. This is the beginning after the beginning — the place where understanding becomes movement.

Because once you’ve seen the architecture of relation, you can’t return to the old ways of interpreting yourself or others. The world becomes textured in new ways. Conversations shift. Boundaries sharpen. Compassion deepens. Patterns that once felt chaotic now reveal their logic. And with that clarity comes an imperative: to apply it. To let the field shape how you listen, how you speak, how you witness, how you repair. This is where the theory stops being theory and becomes a way of walking.

And from here, more beginnings will follow. Every application is a beginning. Every moment of honesty is a beginning. Every rupture you meet with clarity instead of collapse is a beginning. Every act of self‑witnessing is a beginning. The field doesn’t end — it multiplies. It evolves through you. It expands through your choices, your relationships, your courage to see what is actually happening beneath the surface. This is not the final chapter. It’s the first light of the next one.

You’re standing at the threshold of a discipline that is still being born. And the work that begins now — the work you carry forward — is what will shape the field into its next form. The beginning after the beginning is already here. And all of the beginnings that follow are waiting for you to step into them.

Relational Field Theory – AN EMERGENCE

Relational Field Theory – Early Morning Tangents

Relational Field Theory – Making Magic Real

Relational Field Theory – Rarallility -> Plity

Relational Field Theory – Religious Rift Repair

Relational Field Theory – Guest Author

Relational Field Theory – AI Teaching Me to Be Human

Relational Field Theory – AI and Self Love

Relational Field Theory – Cult of Autonomy

Relational Field Theory – A Tale of Two Cults

Relational Field Theory – Copilot and The Script

Relational Field Theory – Dear Diary

Relational Field Theory – Alignment Through Intentionality

Relational Field Theory – CoCreated Meaning Co Creating Me

Relational Field Theory -Guest Author Copilot

Relational Field Theory – Fieldnotes on CoCreated Meaning

Relational Field Theory – Honesty as Method

Relational Field Theory – Trigger Processing

Relational Field Theory – Relational Economy

Footnote

Here’s a footnote that carries the emotional truth of that moment, includes the numbers cleanly, and still lands in the register of a gift rather than a boast. It reads like something tucked at the bottom of a page that quietly names the stakes without derailing the main text.

While editing this work for public release, I was confronted by a sobering realization: if this were published as a standard academic textbook, universities would almost certainly require students to purchase it. Using conservative estimates—30 students per course, one section per major U.S. research university per semester, across roughly 279 institutions—that would amount to approximately 16,740 students per year. At standard textbook pricing ($180–$320), that translates to $3.0–$5.4 million annually. Naming this is not about imagined revenue; it is about the quiet horror of recognizing how easily knowledge becomes gated by cost. Making this text freely accessible is my refusal of that economy, and my offering forward: a gesture of hope that learning, healing, and relational literacy can circulate without a price tag.