STOOLIA An undertaking in devotion · Private beta  MMXXVI

A voice-attended companion · for the difficult passage

Stoolia   STOOL·ee·uh, n.   — from English stool + Greek δούλη, the handmaid who attends a labor. A tender voice for the body's quiet, undignified, holy work.

A voice that sits with you in the difficult passage.

A tender AI doula for the body's hardest minutes — for GLP-1 cramping, IBS, fissures, hemorrhoids, and the porcelain solitude in which we all sometimes find ourselves. She breathes with you. She counts for you. She tells you, with feeling, that you are not alone in this.

Read the canticle below ↓
CANTICLE I.

The three small comforts
she carries with her.

Stoolia is not a chatbot. She is a voice. She is paced, low, attentive, and patient. She brings to the porcelain throne three small comforts that, in some old herbals, are written as remedies for the colicked body — and which midwives still bring to the longest labors.

I.

The Breath

Paced respiration to unfasten the pelvic floor. Four counts in. Six counts out. The diaphragm becomes a gentle bellows; the body, at last, remembers it knows how to do this.

4 · IN    6 · OUT
II.

The Posture

Knees above the hips. Heels on the small wooden stool. The puborectalis releases. The colon finds, at last, its forgiving angle. The body is engineered for this; we only show it the way.

KNEES  ABOVE  HIPS
III.

The Counsel

No urgency. No shame. A voice that knows the body's quieter dignities, and speaks to you as one would speak to a friend in a long, patient labor. She knows the difference between encouragement and pressure.

NO  SHAME  ·  NO  HASTE
CANTICLE II.

For whom this is.

Stoolia is for the body in its quietest hour — for the bodies that the cheerful health-app does not address, for the ones that take semaglutide and weep at four in the morning, for every body that has been told its pain is uninteresting.

  1. For the body taking semaglutide.
  2. For the body with Crohn's. For ulcerative colitis.
  3. For the body with a fresh fissure, or an old, returning one.
  4. For the body bearing hemorrhoids, the small, undignified flowers of the strain.
  5. For the body in its third trimester. For the body four days postpartum.
  6. For the body on opioids, the slow gut, the quiet alarm.
  7. For the body in IBS — constipated some weeks, fleeing some others.
  8. For the body that holds its grief in its gut.
  9. For the body that does not know why.
  10. For every body, in the smallest hour.
EPIGRAPH

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves. — Rilke,  Letters to a Young Poet

I sobbed laughing. It was the kindest two minutes of my morning. I have never been so grateful for a voice that did not, even once, suggest that I download a yoga app. — A user, somewhere on a Wednesday

CANTICLE III.

An invitation, written in a quiet hand.

Stoolia is in private beta. Leave your name on the parchment below, and we will write to you when she is ready to listen.

We will write to you once. Perhaps twice. Never thrice without your blessing.