CHANGING

One night, amidst the havoc of the 2020 pandemic, I joined an online breathwork experience; the first of many opportunities to connect via a screen during lockdown.

Breathwork had been a part of my life for five years by then. The first one, in 2015, completed changed the course of my life. I left my career as a catastrophic injury manager as an Occupational Therapist, and travelled up and down the east coast of Australia with my blind daughter. Breathwork became an instant road to disconnect from the world's fear and chaos, the stories in my mind, the drama, stress and the world out there, and connect to the deepest parts of myself, within. 

Mid way through the experience online, I was in suspended breath - resting in a place of expansion and beauty without breathing. I was enjoying the aliveness of the world beneath my skin. I felt a great sense of peace and willed my body to purge and cleanse the secrets stashed in my cells. Breathwork is good for that. It’s like stirring up the muck from the bottom of the well and sieving it out of me. The vibrations shook my body into stillness and then I heard a voice, so loud and clear, I thought someone was speaking directly into my ear.

But I recognised the voice.
It was my voice.
But it sounded older - wiser - and the voice said,

"Stop dying your hair. Grow out the grey. Let it be natural". 

I was dancing between altered states of consciousness and, at times, wasn't in my body, but in faraway places that are untouchable and mystical where special things happen. Healing, obliteration of the ego, profound insights, connection to Source, psychic downloads. I had been cultivating implicit trust with this inner voice (which I have come to know as my Soul) for half a decade and when she spoke with conviction, it was my job to follow her instructions. 

I knew, in that moment, that I would do as I was told. Although my ego said, ‘Really? You want me to share my grey hair with the world? I’m only 39 years old!’

It took over a year and a half for my ego to come on board with my Soul's wishes. I felt that the only way I could let go of 20+ years of painting my hair was to shave it off and let it grow out from the root.

I had, for as long as I can remember, wanted to shave my head. I had my mum cut my hair really short when I was four years old. I did it again when I was 16 and 18, but never had the courage to shave it. I developed an insatiable desire and unhealthy obsession with the idea of a buzz cut. I spent countless hours over many months searching for photos of women with a shaved head.  

And then one day, when I couldn’t look at one more photo daydreaming about the day I would do the same, just after my 40th birthday, I did it. I shaved it all off.

But I shed more than hair. I let go of my identity, my perception of beauty, my attachment to long hair defining femininity, and I stripped myself bare. I didn't allow myself to grow my hair back until I was 100% okay leaving the house without a head scarf, make up or jewellery. It took five months of a level one buzz cut before I felt completely comfortable in my own skin. Before I felt completely comfortable in my most raw and vulnerable expression of self. Stripped to the skull. Bared for all to see.

Three and half years later, here I am. A woman in her mid 40s, with salt and pepper hair, honouring my Soul's wishes. It gets extra sparkly in the sunlight.

I am changing.

Aging.

Shape shifting.

Colour palette upgrading.

More wrinkles, sun spots, sagging cheeks, a peri-menopausal body of extra warmth, extra softness, two bra sizes bigger, cellulite and a belly that affects my pants' capacity to button up. How inconvenient.

But I am happy to age, because while I am aging, I am not dead. And that’s a blessing I do not take for granted.

More than a decade of yoga, of healing, of learning and embodying the ancient teachings reminds me that it is not the situation (greying hair), but my perception about it (societal conditioning that says to be beautiful is to be youthful) that causes me to suffer. In the absolute knowing, that the only thing we are assured of is the temporary nature of all things, I am grateful to be on-boarded to my body's changes, because the alternative is a great denial of my truth. 

I am one of few women who are expressing their true nature in this way - old lady hair. So when I see another woman owning her silver sparkles, I am inspired to keep going. Because I have learnt that I am loved and appreciated, valued and respected regardless of what I look like, or what I do. Which is something that breathwork has helped me understand.

Oh and what I do ... That's also changing. 

I quit my job. All of my jobs. Yoga teaching, retreat hosting as a prestigious retreat venue in western Sydney, events. Nothing is planned. I am currently, for the first time in 30 years, officially unemployed. And just yesterday I realised I am repeating a pattern in my 9 year cycle. 

In 2007 I quit my job as an OT and moved to NZ. That set me on a path of career and life change. I became a mother. 9 years later ... 

In 2016 I quit my job as an OT (again) and travelled Australia with Mackenzie. That set me on a path of career change into yoga teaching, retreats and healing. 9 years later ...

In 2025 I am letting go of all my healing work. I will be removing all sessions from my website. I have no retreats planned. No workshops or events.

I have no idea what's next. It’s not to say that I will NOT be doing these things. Truth is, I am brilliant at what I do. And what I do matters. But after all the doing doing doing, I am letting myself really be. It feels a little uncomfortable. But mostly safe. Because this is what I’ve unknowingly been working towards.

Space. Freedom. Just not in the way I thought it would look.

Six months away from social media and now months away from work, I am listening to new creative projects pop up.

I am thinking about a little podcast, just me, talking shit.
I am editing my book. 
I am creating online programs and content (some free, some paid) for my website which will be a follow through for those that come to explore me when my book is birthed and in your hands.

I am thinking about spending time with my 92.5 year old grandma and hearing her life story to one day, write hers.

But other than that, I don't know. All I can be certain of, is change is gonna come. 

I am peaceful. I have surrendered. I feel free. I fear not, for I know I am so guided and supported. And with all this space, I can't help but be curious about what's to come.

My word for 2025 is OPEN. So with all those doors closed, I wonder what will doors will open?