I've been in a lot of rooms where something important was happening.

I was eight when I went to my first funeral. The death was sudden and violent and the grief around me was raw and complicated in ways I didn't have words for yet. I just knew it mattered. I knew the room mattered, and how people moved through it mattered, and that nobody really knew what to do.

I was eighteen when I stood in the corner of my grandfather's hospital room as he died. My mum and her siblings were there, my nan, and me. The only grandchild. I stood quietly and watched something I can only describe as sacred. It was heartbreaking and completely still and I have never forgotten it. Something settled in me that day. I didn't know what to call it yet. I just knew I wasn't afraid.

Since then, I've sat beside people at the end of their lives more times than I can count. My husband and I sat either side of his aunty as he talked about her son, who died by suicide years earlier, and played their favourite song as she took her last breath. I offered Reiki to my grandmother in her final days. I sat with both of my grandmothers through the long, slow grief of dementia, the kind of loss that happens gradually while the person is still there. I know what it is to love someone through something that has no clean ending.

I've also lost people in messy, imperfect, human ways. A dog who died in my arms in the back seat of the car while I sang to her. I carry some of that grief still. I think that's okay. It's part of what makes me, me.

Why this work?

I didn't arrive here in a straight line.

I trained in Reiki and bodywork and built a practice, but for a long time it felt like two separate things sitting awkwardly beside each other. The grief and end of life support on one side, the massage and energy work on the other. I couldn't quite see how they connected.

Then they did. Slowly, and then all at once.

Because the truth is, the people who come to me for a Rest & Reset session and the people who come to me because someone they love is dying are often carrying the same thing. They've been holding too much for too long. They've been the strong one, the organised one, the one keeping it together so everyone else doesn't fall apart. They've been performing okay when they are very much not okay.

What they need isn't fixing. There's nothing to fix.

What they need is somewhere safe to stop.

If something here resonates

You don't need to have the right words or know exactly what you need. You just need to reach out. We can work out the rest together.