The Reset Weekend

There is a particular moment in a long relationship when you realize that talking about it has stopped working.

You have read the books. You have done the therapy. You may have even done a program with me. You understand the patterns. You can name what is happening between you. And still — the body has not gotten the memo. The closeness you remember from the beginning feels like a country you used to live in. Touch has become careful. Sex has become a conversation you avoid having. The two of you are kind to each other and quietly grieving.

Insight has done what insight can do. What is left is the body. And the body needs a different kind of room.

What Happens

A held container, beginning before you arrive

The Reset Weekend does not begin on Friday. It begins in the two weeks before you get to the Austin Hill Country, in two preparation sessions over Zoom — one with me, one with Jason. These are not intake forms. They are the first time the container holds you. We listen for what is alive, what is tender, what you are walking toward. By the time you arrive, both of us already know you.

You arrive on a Friday to a place you have chosen together — somewhere in the Austin Hill Country, if you want our recommendation. A house that feels like a held breath. Trees outside the window. No one to perform for. You settle in. You eat. You walk. And in the evening, Jason and I come to you together for the opening session. This is the moment the weekend formally begins. The four of us in one room, setting intention, naming what each of you is bringing, letting the container close around you.

On Saturday morning I come to you. We spend several hours together — the two of you and me — moving between somatic practice, sexological bodywork, and intimacy coaching, working with whatever is actually living between you in the moment. This is the part where the body starts to remember it has a say. Where the protective layers that have been doing their job for years begin to set themselves down because the room is finally safe enough.

In the afternoon I hand you off to Jason. What happens next belongs to him and to the two of you. Jason holds a medicine journey — the kind of held container that has been part of how humans have moved through hard interior weather for as long as we have been human. He has been walking alongside people through this kind of work for twenty-five years. You will be in his hands, and his hands are steady.

Sunday morning Jason and I come back together. We sit with the two of you — softer than we sat on Friday, because something has moved — and we begin to integrate. We name what happened. We give it language and shape so that it does not slip away when you go home. We talk about how to bring it into Tuesday morning, into the kitchen, into the way you reach for each other in the dark.

And then you go home. Not the same.

But the container does not close behind you. In the two weeks after the weekend, you return to each of us once more — one integration session with me, one with Jason, both over Zoom. This is the part where what happened in the Hill Country becomes part of the life you are actually living. Insights become practices. Openings become habits. The weekend becomes a beginning.

What Becomes Possible

Years of distance can move in a weekend when the container is right

I will not promise you a specific outcome. The body is not a vending machine. But I will tell you what I have seen — couples who arrived on Friday holding themselves at a careful distance and left on Sunday in each other's arms. Touch that had become administrative becoming touch again. Laughter returning. The particular ease that lives between two people who have actually met each other coming back into the room.

What I can promise is this: the container is built to make that possible. You will not be doing any of this alone, and you will not be doing it in your own house, with your own dishes in the sink, and your own habits waiting to reclaim you the moment the session ends. The whole point of leaving is so that something can actually move.

The Arc at a Glance

A container that holds you on both sides

Two preparation sessions before. Three days in the Hill Country. Two integration sessions after.

Held By

Nicole Siegel

I am a Certified Sexological Bodyworker and the founder of Body Compass. My work sits at the intersection of somatic practice, trauma-informed care, and embodied eroticism — and the thing I do that almost no one else does is the hands-on, body-level work that has to happen when understanding has stopped moving what is stuck between two people.

I am a somatic practitioner, not a talk-based one. I work with your body — the place where the protections live, the place where the aliveness lives, the place where a couple's real dynamic is actually happening underneath everything they have been trying to talk about. What I bring into a room is the ability to listen to what the body is saying and to hold the kind of container where the body finally feels safe enough to say it.

I built The Reset Weekend because I wanted to bring this work into its most complete form — a held container that begins before you arrive and continues after you leave, anchored in three days of embodied work that almost no one else is qualified to hold. And I built it with Jason because the medicine work at the heart of the weekend deserves a practitioner whose entire focus is that specific piece. He is one of the few people I would trust to hold it alongside me.

Jason Minnix

Jason has been walking alongside people for twenty-five years. He is a father, a beekeeper, a gardener, a mountain climber, a community leader, and one of the most steady humans I have ever worked with. His training is in spiritual direction and Internal Family Systems. The question he brings into every room is the question he asks himself first: what is alive in you now?

Jason holds the kind of space where everything can belong. Grief. Confusion. The places that have been waiting their whole lives to be allowed in the room. He does not push. He does not perform. He sits with what is true and lets it become more true. This is the rarest thing a practitioner can offer, and it is what makes him the right person to hold the medicine work at the heart of this weekend.

The Practical Pieces

The practical details

The Reset Weekend takes place in Austin, Texas. We come to you, in a home you choose for the three days. Couples have been very happy choosing somewhere in the Austin Hill Country — far enough from the city that the nervous system can actually exhale, close enough that the logistics stay simple. We are happy to point you toward the kind of place that works.

Lodging and meals are not included. You book the house. You stock the kitchen with what you love to eat. The weekend is yours to live inside.

The investment for the full container — both practitioners, the preparation sessions, the three days in the Hill Country, and the integration sessions afterward — is $3,497 for the couple.

I only hold a small number of these weekends each year. If something in you is leaning in, the next step is to start the conversation.

A note for the person reading this solo.

We have a version of this weekend for individuals, and we would love to talk to you about whether it is the right thing.

Ask About a Weekend

The way in is a conversation. Tell me a little about where you are, what you are hoping for, and whether there is a particular time of year you are holding loosely. I will write back personally.

Or send me an email at contact@bodycompass.me to book.

Held in Austin, Texas. A small number of weekends each year.