My Blog 
What I'm Thinking About as a Therapist

There’s a reason holidays land so deeply in the body — especially when you’re somewhere like Bali, where the energy feels like it’s doing half the work for you. There’s a spiritual undercurrent here that meets you before you’ve even worked out what’s happening inside you. The place itself feels like it’s holding you — or maybe it’s just that you finally let yourself be held. The moment we leave home, something shifts. We let go. Not consciously — it’s almost instinctive. We d

Lately, I’ve been thinking about blame. I was listening to the section on depression and apathy in David Hawkins’ Letting Go, and it stopped me in my tracks. He talks about how apathy isn’t just sadness — it’s when the system shuts down. The fight is gone. There’s no charge left, no spark. And underneath that, so often, there’s blame — subtle, simmering, sometimes almost invisible. You see it all the time in therapy. Someone sits across from you, heavy, flat, detached, but qu

Somewhere between the sacred and the clinical, humanity found a new kind of ritual. We still seek meaning. We still long to be seen. We’ve simply changed where we go to find it. Once, we turned to temples, mosques, and churches for solace. Now, many of us turn to therapy rooms. Not as a rejection of faith — but as an evolution of how we hold the human experience. The Meeting Place Religion and psychology aren’t opposites. They’re two languages trying to describe the same myst

We live in a culture that wants everything explained — why we feel what we feel, how to fix it, how to make it stop. But the body doesn’t speak in logic; it speaks in sensation, pressure, vibration, and release. And sometimes, the only way through an emotion isn’t to analyse it — it’s to move it. There are times when talking about what we feel just isn’t enough. The mind can loop, analyse, dissect — but the body still hums with the charge of it. Anxiety. Anger. Grief. Shame.