Movement in all forms has always been a central part of my life. Over the years, its power has revealed itself in ways I couldn’t have predicted.

One of my earliest, most vivid memories is of Sunday evenings as a child, locking myself in my room, blasting Enigma (a slight giveaway to the era!). Improvised Tai Chi–like gestures from nowhere, maybe inspired by films like Kickboxer and Ip Man. I didn’t have the words to express what was going on inside me, so my body did the talking. Movement became a language for emotions too big to contain. A way to process and express my inner world. Over time, I’ve learned to navigate those waves more skilfully. That quiet curiosity to understand, to express and to connect has guided me ever since.

Martial arts were my first gateway: aikido, kick-boxing and my dear brother’s brutal training methods! They introduced me to a different way of seeing the world; one where body and mind weren’t separate. This idea stayed with me, reshaping itself through the many movement forms that followed: acrobatics, sports, dance, somatics, yoga.

Nature became another teacher. The wilderness of Dartmoor and coastlines of the South Hams held me through heartbreak, darkness and adolescent hormones, offering a space of nurture and quiet repair.

Two decades of professional service with the RNLI taught me what fear feels like in the face of the ocean and also what depth is formed by witnessing the seasons turn in the same place year after year. I still call that place home.

Work as an acupuncturist and bodyworker (Bowen, Tui Na and others) deepened my understanding of the connection between body, mind, emotions and our environment. Studying a degree in Traditional Chinese Medicine back in 2006 also introduced me to my respected Taiji teacher, Michael Acton. This art has been my most consistent practice of all and it’s timeless wisdom continues to inform how I treat, move and teach.

I’ve worked with thousands of people and their bodies. Each one teaching me something new about healing and human potential.

Looking back, I see that much of that journey was for my own healing. Learning to meet my inner world with curiosity instead of conflict.

Now, it feels as though I’ve come full circle. Therapy and bodywork are powerful, but they’re not enough. The human body is designed to move.

I believe our complexity of movement evolved alongside our complexity of thought. And this is part of what makes us uniquely human.

I believe movement is a gateway: into ourselves, into our healing and into our growth. It reflects what’s happening within us and transforms how we meet the world.

There is no one size fits all or style that’s any better than another.

So now, I want to build something.

A movement in the South West.

A space where all kinds of movers can come together. Regardless of discipline, style, teacher or lineage.

A community where we share, learn and grow together. Where we move better, feel better and keep doing what we love at every age and stage of life.

Movement is for longevity. Movement is for vitality. Movement is for life.

If this speaks to you, get in touch. Let’s connect. Let’s move.

Let’s create a movement.