Listening has never been new to me. It has been the backbone of my work for years — listening beyond words, through movement, breath, rhythm, and the subtle shifts in a room before anything is spoken. I’ve taught people in many different spaces, including those outside my line of sight, guided by sound, sensation, and embodied awareness. Listening has always been part of how I work.
Last year was about laying the foundations of retreat life, developing my somatic and breathwork practice, and along for the ride came further knowledge in the form of biodynamic psychotherapy. That’s a lot of input, and whilst I enjoyed it all, my life is not a competition! What this year taught me wasn’t how to listen, but where that listening needed to turn inward. This winter season brought regulation not as an idea, but as something lived. Not the polished kind. The practical, often unglamorous kind. The kind that looks like reconnecting to my truth as a nearly-50-year-old, retired dancer — allowing my body to move with respect rather than expectation. Less pushing through. More checking in.
As I turn 49, self-regulation hasn’t quietened my work. It clarified it. Clearer capacity. Clearer pacing. Clearer boundaries between dedication and overdrive, that’s a line that’s easy to blur when you’re capable, committed, and used to holding a lot. Self-care is frequently framed as indulgent, when in reality it’s deeply functional. It’s not stepping away from life, it’s what allows life to be met sustainably. From a somatic and breathwork perspective, it’s the steady integration of tools that support release and renewal while still moving through the day. And sometimes, listening inwards sometimes sounds like stopping. There were moments this winter when the body didn’t want insight, processing, or another practice. It wanted rest. Not improvement. Not optimisation. Just rest.
Christmas brought a quiet recalibration, enough slowing down to notice where momentum had been speaking louder than truth. As the New Year dawned, slowly, I began quietly adding some gentle physical rehabilitation which was very slow and very repetitive. This was initially met with a lot of resistance (and the occasional eye roll!) but as my strength returned, so did a surprising sense of satisfaction. Moving again began to feel less like maintenance and more like a small daily win. Listening to my body stopped feeling like a task and started to feel like collaboration, which feels like a good exchange at this stage of life when I have asked so much of it already!
For me, listening is a practice. And even those of us practiced in listening can forget to turn it toward ourselves. When was the last time you truely listened?
If this reflection resonates, you’re welcome to stay connected.
February marks the opening of new studio alongside the online breathwork courses running throughout the year and a small number of carefully held retreats. Each offering is an invitation to slow down, listen more closely, and build steadier ways of meeting yourself and your life.