
I live and work in South Somerset, where I grew up on a working farm. As a child, I spent long days on my pony, moving through fields and hedgerows. Landscape has always shaped how I think—about interdependence, and the quiet intelligence of systems that must adapt to survive.
After studying at the University of Exeter, I spent fifteen formative years in Australia. There, I established a training department for people with spinal cord injury and helped build vocational rehabilitation services supporting return to work after injury, illness, or disability. I worked across remote regions—from the Atherton Tablelands to the Snowy Mountains.
On the Tablelands, my territory covered more than 250,000 square miles. I was told that if I had an accident, I should radio the Flying Doctor from the set in the boot of my car—and if I broke down, light a fire by the roadside and put the kettle on.
Returning to England in the late 1990s, I founded and grew a vocational rehabilitation company that operated for over fifteen years. The work supported thousands of individuals and contributed to European knowledge-exchange projects across fourteen countries. Alongside this, I served as a Trustee for my professional body and taught in higher education.
This early career shaped something fundamental: an understanding that distress does not arise in isolation, but within systems—relational, social, and environmental.
From 2010, I undertook training in trauma-informed practice, somatic approaches, and lineage-based traditions, alongside extended work with horses as teachers of non-verbal attunement and co-regulation. What drew me was not mysticism, but attention—how regulation spreads, how overload concentrates, and how meaning is made or imposed.
Between 2014 and 2017, I wrote three long-form narrative works exploring pilgrimage, seasonal ritual, and British mythic landscapes. These projects deepened my interest in the relationship between place, story, and the nervous system. More recently, my writing has turned toward ancestry, and how inherited stories continue to shape present experience.
I currently undertake selected voluntary work while completing a long-term writing project.
I used to think I was choosing my path. Then I noticed the scaffolding.