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When people just think it’s mindset work.

Mindset work is the mind.
The mind is a place of logic that has come from past experience.

Although your present self comprehends that something happening right now is not the thing you have been through but your physical body separates from itself.

Your chest dipped inwards
Your heart has flown out of your body.
You are a complete shell of yourself in an environment that is “safe”. 

Something has happened within you but you don’t want to cause a “scene”.

You know the ppl there are unable to hold you - don’t get me wrong there is empathy & compassion but in a way where the depths of your ancestors and your childself is all currently present? 

This isn’t tangible.
It’s not where you can tap or stroke myself out of it.

It’s stories within air - when was the last time you truly felt air, what it’s saying, where it is in time & space?

It’s the hollowness of life itself & yet consciousness.

To feel is to be in tune.
Can you be in tune with the story your mind is playing because your body is having a reaction to it. 

The story your mind is currently making up because of a past experience, a rememberance of when you split yourself into pieces so you didn’t feel all of the grief & pain that you experienced unnecessarily.

I was reminded this week that humans are selfish.
That we only care about ourselves and this really does break me.

In fact, last week I cried through grief at how selfish humans are, consciously & not.

This reminder came from a marketing chat.

At a mastermind day, my chest sunk and I greyed out as if I’d be on herorin for days.

I decided to be selfish.
I left the group where my body felt like it was not only being threatened but on the receiving end of that threat.

I choose to move my paintbrush in another direction. 

To me, the selfish thing to do was to suppress it and carry on like everything is “normal”. Change you mindset, move on & carry on. 

One of my wishes in this world is for more people to choose to be selfish, to looking and feeling into their triggers because to me, not looking at your triggers from body & mind is ultimately the most selfish act of all - to yourself and another.

My mind is the problem until it isn’t.
My body is the problem until it isn’t.

Neither are the problem until I own this is part parcel of being my own artist.

Life is my canvas and every feeling is a piece of art to that canvas.

The good, the bad & the ugly.

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It’s not just in the eyes tightening or the smile flattening. 

It’s in how you bypass my existence. 
In how you treat me slightly differently than a white person — not enough to prove, but enough to feel. 

It’s the double take your system takes. 
That recalibration. 
And it’s felt by the other body. By me. 

And when another POC stays silent, that silence isn’t ignorance. 
It’s fear. 
Fear of being fired for agreeing. 
Fear of naming patterns their body already knows. 
Fear because they understand — clearly — that HR will not protect them. 

White privilege has insurance. 
“They didn’t know.” 
“They didn’t mean it.” 

Meanwhile the impact lives in my body as stored energy. 
Something I now have to process, shake out, metabolise — just to keep doing my job. 

And I know this isn’t projection because I know myself intimately. 
I know what is mine and what is not.

My dear friend, 
This. Is. Yours. 

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What still grows in winter?

The tears from my aching emotions.

When does this end?
Is this what unconditional love is?
Is that what I am being shown
as such a feeler?

Is this spirit’s way of showing unconditional love
through the pain of sadness
and torture?

The heart space feels empty.
Iboga showed me that.

And yet—
there is this knowing pull into the earth,
passed down into the roots
of what we deem as hell.

Our perspective hell
is what peels away the layers
like a freshly bought phone case.

That Big Bang moment
when Raj & Howard share their devotion
to the peel—
inch by inch—
knowing the new will be no more.

This new device
will now be theirs.
Tainted
with day-to-day living.

What happens now?
Nobody knows.
Not even I.

But for those three seconds of peeling lust,
I will suffer my winter.

Inspired by Beth Kempton’s 2025 Winter Sanctuary: EvergreenOliver Baez Bendorf

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If all pictures and videos can be manipulated into whatever someone wants us to think or see,
then surely someone could be set up for murder?

With technology and AI booming at the speed they are,
time is our most precious commodity.

What wouldn’t I do to save it
Pay someone.
Delegate.
Even lock myself in energetic frustration over how much time I’m wasting compared to what I could be gaining if I just did the thing I keep avoiding.
(Yes. I’m talking to you… taxes)

Enter the wonderful world of AI
Our new creative agency
A place to decompress.
To debrief.
To process.
To seek solitude, reasoning, mentorship.

Our #1 hype friend.

And yet…
I wonder what the polarity of this will mean for human life.

Technology is outgrowing us faster than                                                                                  it takes to birth a child to their second birthday.

So what does this mean for law enforcement?
For media?
For truth?

Footage can now be doctored into a fake reality.
Entire narratives fabricated with terrifying precision.

Will our decisions really be ours anymore?

We’re only just now collectively admitting that mental health exists.
That it impacts individuals.
That conditioning shapes not only how we see the world, but who we believe we are—
unless we actively do the work to discover otherwise.

And the deeper you go into this work,
the more you realise resonance and precision don’t live in the mind.

They live in the body.

The body as a channel.
A space where something closer to truth permeates the system.

I’m not saying truth doesn’t shift with perception.
Why do you think you can realise something about an experience years later?

Those reflections come from space opening.
From perception finally having room to breathe.
From the body processing what the mind once couldn’t.

Which brings me to the jury system.

How vulnerable it is.

Who is being picked at random to decide the fate of another human
when they may not have fully processed their own emotions, wounds, projections?

Unless we have the capacity to view, to empathise, to hold—
from a mature, grounded place of depth and honesty, without distortion or fragmentation,                                                                                                                            how will we look at photos or video footage in the future
without jumping to the fastest, most palatable conclusion?

The one that fills the KPI.
The one that clears the inbox.
The one that keeps the machine moving.

Will we
or future humans
accept face value?

This is where intuition comes in.
Discernment.

Following a nudge.
Questioning the footage.
Investigating the story even when—especially when—
everything logically adds up.

When you’re the only hand raised for not guilty.

AI or not, the human emotional experience still exists.
No matter how much we try to suppress it.
No matter how much we outsource our thinking.

So I’ll ask you this:

Could you live with yourself?
Would you want to live with yourself?

Or are we slowly handing our power away
to technology
and to those who control it?

This might sound like a harsh extreme,
but it feeds directly into our everyday lives.

Into how we scroll Instagram.
How we compare.
How we consume opinions as gospel.
How we let someone else’s version of events define our reality.

We don’t know what we don’t know.

Or do we?

Photo by Milo Weiler

⚠️ Musical post (play below)

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You can’t flow if you aren’t in it.

You can’t feel music if you aren’t the music.
You can’t dance if you aren’t the dance.

“Dance until the dancer disappears and only the dance remains”

Osho

So why is Flow Dance different from Ecstatic Dance?

Here’s a story.

It was a friend’s birthday — a Wednesday evening.
We went to an ecstatic dance.

At one point, I stepped outside.
In the small, enclosed outdoor area, three people were laughing but as I walked out, they suddenly stopped.
Pure silence. It was so strange.

And then...

We all burst into hysterics.
No reason. No control. Just laughter.
It felt amazing to release that sound, that energy — that part of the process.
(in unison as well)

As we laughed, a woman from the hosting team came out.
Polite face. Pointed tone.

"I know it’s funny, but we can hear you inside"

That hit me.

Because Flow Dance Meditation allows it all.
It encourages it all.

We would never stop you in your process.
Because it is about the process.

Movement is art.
and what it brings up — laughter, tears, singing, shaking, stillness — it all belongs.

There’s still a quiet code in some ecstatic dance spaces —
An undercurrent of “do this, not that.”
A subtle pressure to behave a certain way.

But Flow Dance?
It doesn’t ask you to do.

It asks you to be.
Just be.
You.

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I met a version of my worst nightmare last week.

I chose - actively and purposefully to put myself in that situation. I prepared myself fully accepting whatever experience might arise.

Therefore, what happened next surprised me:

no jitters,  
no high alert nervous system, 
no shakes, 
no overthinking, 
Just… a regulated, normal day. 

One by one, the small things began to rise - sub-par rise. I say this term to describe how deep it was, barely legible. But I noticed it (yay me!)

I was carrying the weight of my reactions and admiration for these women's characteristics with a deep irk of disgust that they had to share space with me.

A room where I couldn’t match their orgasmic, magical, playful, alive energy of being a woman & of life.

Integrating all of this tonight made me realise why the uncomfortable feelings of receiving compliments are most women’s cringe.

It’s being shamed as a woman (shape, size, style) by women.

The women we admired growing up. 
The ones around us.
The ones we learned from - how to think, feel, and act about our bodies and what it means to be female. 

Being female is dangerous.

My mum grew up in the era of Indi Amin - a time every woman feared for her life,
Raped multiple times by multiple men, 
Death, or both. 
Nowhere to go
Nowhere to choose
Just acceptance that this is what life is. 
And me… I carry that.
Amongst other things. 

Today, I witnessed, quite literally, the opposite from the outside looking in.

Women supporting each other’s businesses. 
Creativity & Collaboration. 

I saw what some might call an “older woman” fully embodied in her playfully seductive, wise empress energy, sitting on a vintage green chair being fed & squeezed pomegranate juice all over her.

I saw women voicing their creative visions
Helping each other bring them to life, purely for the love of it.

I saw bodies I’ve only dreamed mine would look like. 
I was held between the legs of a tantrika-who I eye gazed with previously
Her energy: Stable. Bold. Fearless. 

I watched perky butts and boobs move through the room
Witches hanging from a candlelit staircase
I saw them connected: in friendship, in touch, in femininity, in love and softness. 

Humans 
Having fun 
Moments being captured
That’s all it was and it brought up so much for each of us. 

Being in the room was brave
I wanted to be my version of brave 
But how can one do that, if they can’t first accept the step before—
The step that, for that version of you, is brave?

Our ending circle made me feel physically sick. Strangled.
Grimey like. 
I didn't land on my version of brave.
I didn't face my fear. 
Why should I merit myself with tokens of awareness & realisations? 
I tried but I felt a fraud. 
Lies. 
How can they say anything kind, when all they’ve seen is the little girl? 
But... when the little one has never been seen before - 
how can one understand village community life? 

Being seen not for what you show 
But for who you are choosing to let go of - 
And become. 

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I spent a weekend getting tied up.

The voyeurism of watching the flow, focus & connection in another pair—a form of voyeurism you might say.

Pindrop silence while the music plays out of focus as we get taken on the player’s journey while managing to match an intense & what can only be described as a high tie.

This isn’t just about a sex kink but a lesson on life’s polarities.

Patience, connection, wisdom, annoyance, meditation, kink, surrender, domination, submission, trust, loyalty, laughter, cries, fatigue, hope, desire - mentally, emotionally & spiritually.

It will take you to places to view your stories.
A place to truly embody a once-lived-in moment that changes your narrative.

It’s energetic foreplay.

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“… for genital response to spanking fetishes, our sexual physiology, psychology, and desires are all made of the same parts, just organised in different ways.

If we embrace this simple, profound idea - all the same parts, organised in different ways - it answers that ever - population question: Are men’s and women’s sexualities the same, or are they different?

Answer: Yes

They’re made of the same parts, organised differently.”

Page 35 - Come As You Are: Emily Nagasaki

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If, as humans we can accept that we find different styles, food, textures, colours, tastes, scents pleasing, then why do so many of us struggle with accepting ourselves or parts of ourselves?

As women; 
Nose, hair, skin, fingers, breasts, bum and as Emily writes, our vulvas.

Most of us women comparing to the standard Barbie style white woman.

Numbing out the various parts of ourselves,
the parts that make us who we are.

The version of us that we have grown to learn,                                                                   how to make which make-up style work for us,                                                               which side our fringe goes 

and yet, behind the scenes, we fight the comparability shadows within us,
the dark shadows that feed on fear, guilt & shame.

Fear of not feeling, shameful of who we are, could be, how we feel, our desires and the choices we make for our individual journey. 

Fear of guilt—for trusting ourselves,                                                                                      for following our hearts,                                                                                                            for doing our best with what we knew.

Guilt that we didn’t live up to another’s expectations or hopes.

Guilt that there may have been deceit or lies to others and quite often, even more soul destroying, the shame & guilt to ourselves and the fear we may do this to ourselves again.

Fear of failing to accept or process it all.

Reaching a new level of low self.

and if you don’t?

Perhaps questioning, if this is normal?

What is this new stage/ level of you,                                                                                        this new perspective or understanding of the world & yourself?

If, as the book is titled, we are to ‘Come As You Are’, then perhaps we should …       ‘Come As All That We Are’

🫦

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We are unravelling together. Standing on apple cores

We did a 360 - soothing me, soothing you

looking forward to my hand being held

and I’m tryna fast track this to have a sense of reality

Wall up, it’s my safety. Don’t let them see.

Don’t let yourself see.

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Photo by StreetLife Stories

When we feel safe, we feel happy; we flow through life. Our first chakra known as the root is based at the bottom of the spine close to the tailbone. Barbara Carrellas describes in Urban Tantra that “the first chakra is concerned with security and survival - the basic elements of life. On a personal level, the first chakra reflects issues of home, survival, and safety. On the community level, it is the ‘tribal’ chakra, concerned with issues of family, school, job, religion, nationality, politics, and patriotism. The first chakra is also concerned with money issues, insofar as money is connected to our survival, our safety, and our tribe(s). The first chakra grounds us like the roots of a tree: the stronger and deeper its roots, the more blossoms above”. 

Perhaps wealth is why Bruce Wayne found it easier to tap into Batman?

There are assumptions that yoga teachers do well because…well, have you seen Instagram?! Grids posted of divine backdrops and poses that make you wonder about your next sex position. But for this Yogi, although flexible, he brings to light the contrast between what you see and what is real.

The Yogi's journey started as he consciously ended his 14-year relationship. As one door closes, another one opens or so they say…

The opportunity to start a new chapter of his story was all laid out, his mentor offered him a studio manger role and a permanent teaching spot in Denmark. However, due to laws limiting his stay in the Schengen zone to 90 days within any 190-day period and visa yet to be approved, he had to return to the UK earlier than expected.

“… it wasn't appropriate at that stage for me to go back to the house. So effectively the moment I come back to UK…at this point, I'm technically homeless, because I haven't got an abode”

The Yogi’s UK comeback was seen as somewhat of a holiday as it was only a waiting game for his visa to come through. Fortunately, during this time a friend offered a space. 

“[This] meant that one person's goodwill stood between me and being fully homeless”

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The space turned out to be the corner of a living room on a punctured air bed, as he said this he pointed to the size of my A4 notepad indicating the thickness. The friend would routinely work and chill in the front room until the early hours of the morning while The Yogi was in his corner hoping to get some sleep before sunrise, but what did It matter? It was a stopgap until a stamp was received but sadly, the visa was rejected and with no legal rights to his ex-partner’s home and no stable income bar a few London cover classes The Yogi was now a sofa surfer. 

After some time The Yogi received an invitation to regularly teach 2 classes a week in Brighton. With this seaside town being the same travel time as it can take Zone 4 commuters into the City, it was The Yogi’s opportunity to network in his circle. However, with the cost of travel at times being quadruple the Zone 1 - 4 day rate, The Yogi saved on accommodation by sleeping on a yoga mat on the studio floor and was known to walk an hour at 3am after having to get a 2am coach when train prices were extortionate. Thankfully, the yoga mat has now been upgraded to a mattress.

With The Yogi continuing to put his name out there, he also managed to pick up some London reception shifts which were a source of guaranteed hourly income and with the flexibility of what this industry brings, Mr. Yogi could manage his schedule to still make guest appearances in Denmark and other European destinations. 

“It is not uncommon for yoga teachers especially early in their career. You have the advantage that you can travel pretty much anywhere in the world. The type of yoga that I teach is mostly taught in English, certainly around Europe, and certain other parts of the world. So it's quite easy to travel teach but it is not glamorous, you know you will usually end up staying in studios and studios vary. The studio in Denmark, there was actually a room with a bed in it and a proper kitchen because it was a kitchen with a bed in the kitchen…so yeah I slept in the kitchen but when the studio was closed, that was my space. It was okay. Well, that meant I could cook food so that wasn't an issue to me. Because maybe they felt to me more like a studio flat. In fact, I think my first remarks when I walked in there were if this was a studio in London, this would cost me a hell of a lot of money that I couldn’t afford”

Once The Yogi was in a slightly better position, he upgraded to an unofficial room in East London. Although the room was a place to close the door and call his own, the place, unfortunately, had its downsides. It came with 6 unclean, untrained cats, a landlady who screamed to her friend on loudspeaker for a minimum of 2 hrs regularly and with 2 other individuals where being friends wasn’t an option so The Yogi found solace in his teaching schedule. 

“I was incredibly grateful to have the room itself and really nice, actually a nice little space and to be able to go in somewhere close the door and just be in my own space was fantastic…Which again, you know, is definitely not as bad as living on the streets but it affected me more than I thought it would once I'd moved in. The cats were on the surfaces, it didn't feel clean. The atmosphere, the environment, although everybody in the house was a nice person, there was a lot of drama for a while because by this point, I had started working a lot of shifts, so I wasn't there much when I first moved in. It was like every shift [I worked] was a hidden holiday”

Although, he found means of escapism in his work and had a solid roof over his head, mentally he was struggling:

“you’ve got the anxiety that you might be living on the street at any time. So that’s always in your head, but it can be also quite exhausting mentally if I’m honest, a little bit demeaning to be constantly in a space that is other people’s space. It’s not your space”

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‘Renting’ in this manner is all under the radar as The Yogi isn’t able to pay a deposit, no credit checks available and everyone is relying on reduced stickers, good will gestures and a miracle. For this landlady, The Yogi could have been her miracle but the opposite of this is the feeling of “being a dirty little secret”. I guess the thing they both had in common is being each other’s secret, always having to be hidden away, not sharing with anyone where you live or who with. All of this because the very people who would penalise us for helping someone get back on their feet as well as helping ourselves to survive and put money back into the economy are the very same people who tell us that COVID is a highly contagious disease and yet get caught in a passionate embrace (I wonder if he got intrigued by the Insta yoga hole?) while also having a group drinks soiree at our expense. 

Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs states that individuals have physiological, safety, belonging, esteem, and self-actualisation needs that must be met in order to achieve optimal mental health and well-being. Housing, cost of living, safety, security, and finances play a crucial role in meeting the basic physiological and safety needs. A lack of adequate housing and financial stability can lead to increased levels of anxiety and stress, which can negatively impact a person's mental health. When it comes to the yoga industry, being paid insufficiently can also have a negative impact on one's financial stability and thus overall well-being.

The Yogi was able to provide me with a general idea of how pay structures work within the yoga sphere. 

“Given the amount of people that are paying for yoga, you would probably expect that, you know, teachers living in the lap of luxury, it's not the case. There are different ways that the pay gets structured based on different studios”

Despite the rise in popularity, yoga teachers are not fairly compensated for their long hours of work, preparation, and dedication to their students. A typical rate for a newly qualified teacher for a 60-minute class could pay £28. However, a full class could lead to a higher pay rate. The competition among teachers and studio owners can lead to conflicts, especially if the teacher becomes too popular and attracts students away from other classes. Some studios use the Class Pass system to entice new turnover but if a student books in via Class Pass, teachers only receive around £1-2 per student. This pay structure can create competition among teachers, leading to stress and insecurity in their livelihoods. The complicated pay structure based on the number of students in a class also leads to uncertainty and added stress for teachers.

Why are we undervaluing a tradition of the ages that is proven to work for humankind on a mind body and soul level? If kids were taught meditation and yoga in schools, what would the next generation be like? Perhaps if we gave the same news time to the holistic and wellbeing scene, the economy might be in a more balanced place.

Having the choice of where you want to live and how is taken away from the majority of these individuals for them to give back a form of healing that has helped them to survive. Perhaps it is time for us to shift the focus from the hustler mentality to boost the economy and realise that a happy and healthy population is the foundational root of a thriving nation.

This is not just a story of a yogi trying to make it in the world of teaching - it is a story of countless individuals who are forced to sacrifice their time, energy, and financial stability to pursue their dreams. The impact of these struggles can be far-reaching, affecting mental health, relationships, and even leading to homelessness. It is a reminder that we must do better as a society to support those who are working hard to build a better life for themselves and their communities.

Still experiencing sofa surfing, The Yogi deeply resonates with the root chakra being on rocky ground. The Yogi has requested to stay anonymous for now but has plans to continue teaching in London, building his brand and venturing into various modalities to help individuals face themselves in the mirror, regardless of what their past or current situation is.

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Wild Honey, hosted by Fiona, a women's mentor and transformational facilitator with a reputation for her bold and unconventional approach.

Fiona describes herself as a "truth-speaker, activator, no BS-taker, wild, sensual, & loving leader of the unapologetic feminine." Her passion lies in awakening and activating unapologetic feminine energy, guiding women to reconnect with their bodies, sexuality, voices, pleasure, and purpose.

It felt strangely fated, then, my bleed seemed to know 2 months in advance that I’d be working with Fiona.

My experience began at a workshop Fiona co-hosted in London a month earlier. Fiona described my experience as “ripping the band-aid off”. I had a moment where she stood opposite me, holding space for my freeze trauma state as uncontrollable tears streamed down my face. I felt so much pure energy being held and her power as this unapologetic wild woman. A few days later, I was following her on Insta. 

Insta Stories showed me a pop-up of Wild Honey leading me to send her a message to acknowledge her words. These words penetrated me in a way where I just knew how powerfully special this retreat would be. In that moment, it was an example of the feelings I hope my writing will invoke in people.

Initially, I had no intention of attending                                                                                  I just wanted to share how powerful her words were                                                          Somehow, as it always does, everything fell into place and that was it, I was on the list. 

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Days later, upon checking my app, there it was: my period was due on the first full day of the retreat. My cycle, “friend & foe,” often coincides with significant events. Now, I understood why I had been irregular the previous month - it was aligning with this retreat.

The Monday before the retreat, without a yin class, I agreed to a Rapé ceremony, a traditional Amazonian ritual using sacred tobacco. Holding the medicine, I confessed to the person sitting opposite me, "my little girl is coming up." The theme – "it wasn't your fault."

Friday arrived, travel day but work first. I sat at the back of the exam hall watching students hunched over papers, writing away before their time was up. Meanwhile, I’m there crying, also hoping no one puts their hand up for more paper or a toilet break because I was in a fuzzy-like state - like when your hair catches a balloon. I was full-on crying while a download was coming right through me of a healing session I had a few years back where my sister travelled to bomb drop a bit of news. Realisations and long-held truths resurfaced, along with a surge of anger at her mic-drop disappearing act.

This nugget of insight emerged after mentioning my sister during the Monday ceremony. Thankfully, no student bothered me as I cried and wrote furiously in my journal.

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A few of us decided to travel together from Kings Cross. One of the ladies messaged me to say she was wearing a pink cardigan. I stood up, saw her, and waved. In her recognition that I was the person she was looking for, I felt like I knew her. This was followed by Allie, another attendee who'd flown in from Eastern Europe specifically for this retreat. I knew that girl – I'd been that girl, and I still am. The only missing piece was Persephone, and the train to whisk us away.

From our pre-chat exchanges, I knew I wanted to be friends with Persephone. I didn’t know how or why, but I just wanted to be her friend. I was excited to meet her and disappointed when I couldn’t sit next to her on the train ride.

We didn’t talk much during the 15 min taxi ride, just a few one-liners. When we arrived, Pink Cardigan paid with full trust that we would settle later. She even arranged the return journey, giving my PA brain a break.

One by one, the others arrived, filtering into the kitchen for tea and the usual awkward introductions: names, how we found Fiona, and prior experiences with her. "What am I doing here?" I thought, surrounded by more silence than any group setting I'd ever encountered. It felt peaceful, yet unsettling.

Opening circle time. I sat in the middle. Persephone spoke second, her emotions igniting a spark among us. We connected, we were all in. As she took a moment to pause and breathe so did we. It was then we united in sisterhood. Every single woman’s energy line collated towards Persephone and our respective concrete surfaces began to show cracks. As each woman spoke, my throat tightened, a surprising calmness accompanying my tears. I knew what I wanted to say, or so I thought.

Pink Cardigan’s turn

BANG!

She said what?! My surface crack got bigger, as it did for many others, the tears became heavier. I couldn’t believe what she had said. Her words hit me like a bombshell, mirroring a part of my experience I've not heard someone else share before. Not only that, but I hadn't planned on bringing it up at all. She'd unknowingly spoken my truth. She threw the game for me. 

A few more shares, it was my turn. I spoke the unspoken, the connection that had drawn me to Pink Cardigan. Her introduction explained why I felt I knew her. I stared at the floor, forgot to introduce myself and blurted out my thoughts to finish quickly.

Every woman shared something I connected with, explaining why I was there. My fellow Kenyan sister was next. She has this innocence to her and captured me by her bravery and how much she was willing to find a way to work through her stuff, her experiences, and her trust. Like 80% of the women, she had never heard of or met Fiona before signing up, and a handful of these women had never even been on retreat before. The power of that itself is so profound.

Beside her was my brown sister, who understood suppression – cultural, societal, and internal. Every woman there reflected a part of me – past, present, or future.

This was only the first meeting. What awaited us? The itinerary offered only session times, it was all a mystery. Yet, there was an air of calm. Fiona must have woven her zen-like magic through the venue, our rooms, and even the water. When she did prep us for an upcoming session, the physical pre-jitters were non-existent.

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One of the things Fiona asked us to pack was a mirror. I knew, I just knew what that was for. I don’t even own a handheld mirror, so when I was having a pre-bleed packing meltdown I poured myself into the unmet group chat and asked Fiona to bring one. Her mirror now has the reflections of my pussy in it.

The mirror showed me the beauty of roses which transported me to a place of guilt, shame and wrong-ness. All narrated by a calm inner voice.

It can be hard to argue or debate when the calm voice comes out. Speaking with Fiona, she helped me to see that comfort will disguise itself to keep you from your edge. As she was giving me guidance, I realised everything had stacked up for me. Not only was I admitting that I wanted or deserved desire, sensuality, and pleasure by just being there, I was also pussy gazing in front of other women as well as being on my period as a practicing free bleeder.

The idea or effects of pussy gazing didn’t faze me as much as the breast massage session. It's said that your arms are an extension of your heart, your fingers have thousands of nerve endings, and the heart connects the throat and womb. I sobbed the entire time and hung a shirt over my head so I could fully surrender to ugly cry face.

That session was painstaking for me. I didn’t share and sat behind, sniffling, which led to more crying. Persephone sat next to me and asked if I wanted to be alone. I fell into her and broke entirely. She knew. The woman I wanted to be friends with knew I needed her to break through to that next level of healing. I'm grateful she listened to her intuition and came over. For whatever reason, I couldn't access that feeling without her.

We then, along with six other women, flow danced it out barefoot on the grass. I moved through the feelings and emotions, the dense energy that had been building up since the beginning of my week.

In the next session, DJ Dub walked in and had to choose whether to sit with me or someone else. To my surprise, she chose me. Up until this point, I hadn't had a chance to speak with her except to apologise for leaving my laptop on her bed the night before, not realising she was sharing a room with us. In fact, I later found out she had been hating on me, only to discover after we partnered up.

I had to receive first, so I reluctantly agreed. I shared some things, and she knew I was sensitive, especially after the breast massage earlier that day. I sat directly opposite her, and it took me a few minutes to lift my bra off, tears streaming down my face. I lay on my front, she touched my back, and I cried. She checked in, and I alternated between nodding and crying. I then decided to push my edge further from that morning and asked if she would massage my breasts without a cover-up. She agreed instantly. She touched them, I felt nothing. She rubbed them, I felt nothing. She massaged them, I felt nothing. We had a little chat and a giggle in between, and then it was my turn to give.

DJ Dub decided to meet me, choosing to touch a few of her edges after seeing me do so. I agreed to her requests, and we began. As I stroked an area of her body that caused her pain, she allowed herself to go there. She felt it and vocalised it, and when she did, I silently screamed ‘YES’ for her! From a scream to sobbing to weeping, she asked me to give her and that particular area a compliment. I did, which turned into a joke and hysterical laughter between us. She moved through the grieving stages, leading us to the next area she wanted to work on. She asked me to witness something, and I did. We then moved to releasing neck tension until the end of the ceremony.

DJ Dub and I became BFFs after that session. We sat next to each other for the remaining meals. We held each other through further moments of grief. She told me why she was mad at me, only to find out she had got the wrong person entirely!

We stripped down in a field, then jumped into the hot tub together, discussing our respective pussys while pointing them out to each other. I sat naked in the hot tub while DJ Dub axed naked through pieces of wood to keep the hot tub alive for later. We continued our lessons in giving and receiving, exploring the masculine and feminine dynamic, and made plans for the future of our friendship. Interestingly, she told me she knew we were going to be friends when I shared in the opening circle that my throat began to close up, as she felt it too.

I touched every edge except one, the photo shoot. I trust I will one day. Instead, I decompressed by pussy bathing on the lawn with Zara who I shared my first eye-gazing practice with. We exchanged insights into our worlds and really saw each other with deep compassion. This was my first eye-gazing experience where I was in a situation where both parties deeply saw and understood exactly where the other person was coming from regardless of our 23 year age difference.

My second eye gaze experience was the beautiful Mama Rose and her unborn child. Rose’s eye gaze with me was literally how you want a mum or family member to not only look at you but where you know there is no doubt in your body, mind and soul that you could say anything and everything and it wouldn’t faze her. Baby Rose is definitely going to have one of the most grounding, free-living, holistic upbringings that’s for sure. Mama Rose was also the gift maker for the retreat, creating a variety of natural blends to assist us each with our sensuality and pleasure.

Other connections blossomed during mealtimes. The musician and I delved into conversations about dating and living situations. Her insights unexpectedly helped me embody a version of myself aligned with my current location, something I have been disconnected from for some time. Seeing Reshma in the group chat, I was instantly struck by her stunning aura and her 70s style. Her presence mirrored a family member I once knew, creating a sense of acceptance and safety during the retreat. While our conversations didn't involve healing directly, her mere presence was profoundly calming.

Ellie… Ellie just somehow brought it all together effortlessly. It wasn’t about what she did or said—she just had a certain presence. Later, I realised how her job as a book editor mirrored her role at the retreat. She was integral, working behind the scenes, subtly weaving everything together. Her presence was the invisible thread that held our stories together at the retreat and in life.

Lastly, Alice became my timekeeper, the only woman wearing a manual watch. She grounded me in reality, keeping me connected to the present while allowing me to explore the depths of my inner world. I named her Alice because of her beautiful blonde, wavy hair, reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland.

Regardless of the things we did and didn’t face, it was our closing that touched us the most. The tunnel of receiving and accepting. Our initiation. The set-up of it was us stepping forward into our new selves, leaving the old behind while listening to whispers of positivity and encouragement.

Although only a weekend getaway, merging with these women and Fiona’s energy was as if I had known them for a lifetime. It was peaceful and at times painful lesson where we brought genuine light and belly laughs to the mix. The power of connection emerged as a core theme of the retreat. Sharing experiences and vulnerabilities in a supportive environment fostered a sense of deep friendship amongst the participants. For me, it was a reminder of how everything is connected, things are working for you inc. our cycles, trusting in the process and embodying what the word sisterhood really means.

While this approach may not resonate with everyone, for those seeking a transformative experience, Fiona's retreat provided a powerful and undoubtedly safe opportunity for self-discovery.

To experience sisterhood: 

Insta: @fionamccross

Mama Rose’s holistic gifts:

Insta: @artemisrose_aromas

*Names have been changed for the purpose of this piece. 

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Lindsay Jay, co-founder of FDM

Flow Dance is your chance to experience the power of conscious dance and meditation.

Whether you're a regular mover or a complete beginner, this event is open to everyone.

THE EVENT

Explore meditation in a fun new dynamic way. The class is an un-choreographed, conscious dance meditation practice, which encourages self-expression and discovery.

The practice helps you to explore and express how you feel through movement. You don’t have to learn any steps and there’s no pressure to perform, making it easier to relax, allowing the body and mind to get into a state of flow.

THE MUSIC

The music is created to allow the mind and body to transcend into a state of bliss, using varied tempos and rhythms to help you connect to the river of energy flowing within you.

Close your eyes, connect, and allow your body to flow with music. Move in your way on your terms.

THE FLOW DANCE MEDITATION METHOD

This conscious dance program is a vehicle for embodiment, raising vibration and consciousness. Through somatic techniques, you will become more deeply connected with yourself, especially your inner world.

There are 3 sections that you will be guided through - Connect, Move, Release. FDM invites you to get present, so you can feel it and heal it; in an accessible, fun, and dynamic way. The music plays an important role in helping to drop into a flow state of consciousness.

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What does being a psychic mean?

It isn’t that you have all the answers and it’s voodoo.

It’s that, you are listening enough or in other words you are the telephone cord that the message is going through to know what to communicate to the other person. It’s then you as the listener to choose to listen to the advice that may or may not be the answer you like. Is this why we go to psychics?

To help us clear through a confusing time?

When we don’t want to admit or are in genuine torment between our head & heart, our mind & body?

Good vs. Bad

Naughty vs. Nice

the Angel vs. the Devil

Love vs. Hate

We go to friends or family for advice and the advice we get is based on the experience of the advisor. Going to a psychic could be the clear guidance you require but do you choose to believe or follow their guidance?

Connecting to Source, a higher power, God, something or someone unknown might seem a little odd to a few but I bet even the non-believers have wished, prayed, hoped, or imagined at some point in time - who have you been doing this to?

If you answer this by saying “just for me or myself”. That would be your higher self.

That’s the message I got through my telephone cord this evening.

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Rochelle’s story is one from money. She is a mum to 4 sons and 1 foster son and she previously lived in a £4.3 million house. She spent her days organising large-scale charitable events for fun and was also the co-editor of Yalla magazine, a popular publication within the Jewish community. She’s worn custom-made dresses for one-off events and has owned several pairs of high-end designer shoes. In her own words, she had a good life. 

Rochelle believes cultural conditioning played a major role in the demise of her marriage and in turn, the loss of her home.

Rochelle’s love story began at the age of 8 playing kiss chase in the playground. Edward was a cute cheeky kid; a lookalike of Mowgli from The Jungle Book. They parted ways and found each other again in their teens which is when they began to date. 

“he was very handsome. His skin colour was gorgeous, but everyone else was white” 

The school was predominately white so being the only Indian kid brought its own insecurities, as you can imagine. To add to this, Edward suffered from dyslexia to the point he was not able to read or write. 

This may be hard to understand for some, but coming from an Indian background myself, I can relate to the pain and pressure Rochelle was describing for Edward. There is nothing like it. It’s a ticking time bomb and at times you’d rather not exist than have to deal with the idea of not just letting one person down, but what feels like an entire continent. Think your cousin’s wife’s mother has no say on your life?

Think again.

There is no concept of making a decision for yourself. Everything is uttered whilst thinking “what will they say and how will I explain this”. To be one of either sex brings its own additional layers of challenges to the mayhem. 

“Edward is 1 of 4 siblings. Unfortunately for him, he was from an Indian background. Fortunately for him, he was the only boy in the house and being the only boy in an Indian household, he was put up on a pedestal irrelevant of his inabilities. He was the king of the household. He was, again, the Indian heritage. He didn't belong to just the parents, he belonged to the community… but with his dyslexia and his insecurity through dyslexia, there must have been major insecurities around the fact that he couldn't do what everyone else could do” 

Additionally, Edward’s mother lost the family home due to a gambling addiction which brought a new level of shame to the dynamic. The family were in a fortunate position to downsize but the overhang of deep cultural and societal shame is not an easy thing to shake off. 

“Shame. It’s all about shame”

Rochelle went on to explain that the aesthetics of Edwards’s sisters and academic success all played parts in how the siblings saw themselves and each other which later contributed to how they treated themselves and one another. 

“[one of the sister’s] took on the matriarchal role, and she was the university one and she was doing well for herself. She didn't have to rely on anyone. She bought her own flat. So she felt very accomplished but actually mentally and emotionally, she was damaged. She was called, growing up, the fat elephant”

The in-depth details provided to me by Rochelle about how the family treated one another and Edward’s upbringing really resonated with me. The burden that shame carries is a drug within itself but not even one you have chosen to try on a whim. It’s such an integral rooted part of you that you are not able to fathom a glimpse of anything outside that. Every minute decision or thought is blown so out of proportion that you question everything as to the impact on another person, rather than what your true values and beliefs are. It’s excruciatingly exhausting. 

“Shame is insidious, hard to identify, awful to feel, tricky to contain and easy to pass on” Carolyn Cowan 

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Rochelle continued to give me the background of how she believes The Strategist of her husband’s family business “coercively controlled” Edward. I can understand how this could be the case. The brown community are underlyingly taught that everyone outside of us knows better than us, and admittedly we end up putting up a shield to the people who mean the most to us even when it is far from what we would consciously choose to do. You could call it a backward survival mechanism. But this comes from conditioning and unfortunately, it can really fuck with you.

Yes, we do have personal choice but those choices, when we ask ourselves why, are because of some past experience or pattern we have been exposed to, and digging into that is one dark task. 

“People often ask how to avoid cultural conditioning, as if it were a disease for which we need a vaccine. But, remember, cultural conditioning is an inevitable, arguably necessary human adaptation that helps us become functioning members of society. So it’s not about avoiding cultural conditioning. It’s about building your awareness of it so you begin to notice your judgments and examine them before reacting to unfamiliar situations”

[https://www.exceptionalfutures.com/cultural-conditioning/]

Due to Edward’s upbringing, Rochelle believes that he lost himself from his sense of feeling. He listened to The Strategist of the company who, granted made some significant positive business changes at the start but as time went on, his actions led to the downfall of Rochelle’s relationship. 

The family had made their fortune from the garment business. The Strategist found ways to downplay Rochelle’s experience and talents in organising events and banned her from helping in the family business. It seems The Strategist orchestrated a long-term plan to gain significant shares in the company. Initially, he brought in a new data system, which was pitched to help track productivity. Events started to unfold where The Strategist and Rochelle’s sister-in-law appeared to have some type of romance. During this time, The Strategist had fed ‘concerns’ that the sales manager was up to no good. Rochelle assures me the entire situation was choreographed for the sales manager to be set up, using the new data system as ‘evidence’. From then on, The Strategist was wholly trusted by Edward and family for all upcoming decisions. He re-structured the team roles and placed himself as CEO of the company, while persuading Edward and his siblings to not share this information with Rochelle.

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“so I’m neurodivergent and what I understand now but at the time I didn’t know, is all this brain, hippocampus and amygdala and how the nervous system works with anxiety and anxiety with ADHD, we can get anxious over injustice because we are seeking truth and justice. When we don’t have it, it can make us really anxious”

Considering Rochelle didn’t know what she knows about herself now, life at the time was confusing. Her life was, or so she thought, simply flowing but things soon turned because of Edward’s changed behaviour in his communication to her of the family business affairs. Eventually, it all came to a head with Rochelle suffering from a nervous breakdown. 

“my husband, the love of my life for 33 years turned into something of a person I didn’t recognise…We had 6 months of absolute hell. I was hearing a completely different person and that person I was hearing I already knew didn’t like me. My nervous system went completely haywire at the same time. We were dealing with COVID, we were dealing with grief – my father-in-law had passed away, and my own father had been isolated from the family so we didn’t really know what was happening with him and I had perimenopause kicking in. The ADHD for the prior 5 years had been a suspicion in my mind so the neuro divergence reaction to the menopause, to COVID, to the grief, to the isolation was just enough to break me and watching the love of my life being coercively controlled and projecting onto me, sent me into a spiral and I had a nervous breakdown” 

After another disagreement where Rochelle was lied to, she suggested marital therapy or divorce. Edward’s response was “I have to go to work”, he came back the next day with an answer of “divorce”. Rochelle believes, that after discussing with The Strategist and ensuring everything was in place, Edward confirmed the answer of divorce. 

Rochelle decided the house was more than big enough for the both of them not to collide with one another. After some time, Edward came to Rochelle with what she describes as a ‘bribe’, which at the time was called a ‘proposal’ from The Strategist. Said proposal was handed to her with the understanding that if she did not sign the paperwork within 48 hours, “her and her kids’ lives would be damaged”. Rochelle’s lawyer (paid for by her brother) had advised her not to sign the documents. When she asked for an extension, it was verbally agreed but under the condition she does not live at the house and the threat of a non-molestation order was issued. Unfortunately, 1 of Rochelle’s sons suffered an accident so she decided to visit him, accompanied by her mother, believing that Edward did not truly mean the threat of an order. Rochelle was in for a shock. The locks had been changed and to her dismay, within 3 days of her visit, she received a non-molestation order. 

After a series of turbulent events, Rochelle stayed at her elder brother’s place but the only way to get her out of her depressive state was to reunite her with her dogs. To do this, Rochelle had to move to her younger brother’s, sleeping between a sofa and a child’s bunk bed with her 2 dogs in a small studio that also had to cater to her niblings visiting. Rochelle was in this situation for around 4 months. 

“my dogs were the only thing keeping me alive. I did try to commit suicide. I did speak to Mind. I did speak to my GP regularly. I had a psychiatrist, I had a therapist and a coach”

The proposal was later pulled because Rochelle “didn’t answer quick enough or give the wanted response”. Rochelle felt helpless as she felt alone fighting against corporate lawyers. Luckily, Rochelle’s mum and brother continued to help with lawyer fees. 

“I was allowed to have a sum of money for living expenses, but I didn't have anywhere to live and I wasn't paying my brother rent. I didn't have money coming in for the first few months. I didn't have the ability to pay rent. My ex did say that he would give me money for rent, he didn’t. It was actually around 4 months I was looking at properties without a cash deposit and I wasn't in a situation where I could get a tenancy agreement so I couldn't claim housing benefit. So I was in this catch 22”

Although Rochelle was due living expenses, Edward stopped paying for 8 months and when this got to court, the Judge ruled he did not have to back pay and any following payments were also decreased. This resulted in Rochelle taking out a loan, which was only possible because her name was listed on her original home, aka, “the palace”. 

“Thank God I owned a property, I could still use the property as an asset and I could take a loan, but very, very high interest rate. So whatever extortionate money I was paying for my rent, I was paying extortionate money on top of that for the interest of the loan and my money was running out, I only had a set amount of money, and I lived as frugally as I could… I was paying more for dog food than my own food”

Rochelle explained how she had to re-learn the basics from scratch. It was a different world for her. She wasn’t used to counting the pennies or finding ways to make the amount she had stretch. 

A common question that has come up in several conversations I’ve been involved in is: why isn't basic financial literacy and stock market education included in our school curriculum? Imagine a world where we all learn these essential skills at a young age? It would not only secure our futures but also empower us to handle our finances with confidence and competence. Such knowledge would benefit individuals as financial security enables us to pursue our dreams and enjoy life to the fullest. By embracing this change, we could move away from a mindset of scarcity and fear, creating a more empowered society. Instead of imposing further cuts and added pressure on vulnerable individuals, we could consider re-strategising the benefits system and invest in teaching financial wellness, providing individuals with the tools to thrive and contribute positively to the world.

“I had to relearn how to cook, to do food shopping, and I actually had to not go anywhere that I would have. I was like a magpie before if I saw something sparkly or pretty and you know, I would buy it if it wasn't expensive. I was now becoming agoraphobic because I was scared of who I was going to see. I was scared of the perception that was going to occur, like what they're going to think of me. My reputation was damaged. My children were mentally tortured. I was tortured. I'd had a nervous breakdown about all of this stuff, I actually shrunk. In that shrinking, I had to learn how to shop for 1. I was always conscious of throwing food away but the men in my life didn't give a shit because if I'd cooked burgers for tonight's dinner and they wanted a Deliveroo, that's what they would do. If Daddy could do that, the boys could do that. We just threw so much food away and now I've had to literally learn how to shop whereby this is Monday’s meal, this is Tuesday’s. I’ve never done that before. I'd meal planned in as much as ‘oh, they're like this’. I’ll pick this up and if I don't need it this week we'll put in the freezer for next week. I didn't think, now I'm literally meal-planning specifically. I've never done that before. So I had a year where I was having to adjust. I didn't know how to pay bills. I didn't know how to cook. I didn't know how to communicate. I had lost trust and faith in the world and I didn't know where to go”

Rochelle is in a privileged position to have siblings who have been her saviours. Her younger brother selflessly used his savings to cover Rochelle’s first year’s rent upfront, giving up his home-owning dreams.

The money she receives from universal credit provides her with day-to-day help and helping to pay back the borrowed rent and loan. Rochelle is now in debt of close to £200,000 which, of course, will keep accumulating due to the high interest rate. Edward is also in business debt and is claiming Rochelle is also responsible for this. 

Rochelle’s patience has been tested a number of times. She’s experienced broken promises, her signature forged, debt, loss of relationships, lies, several uncalled-for events and false charges brought against her. She spent weeks without food and no access to her belongings while learning to understand her health conditions and living on the opposite side of the spectrum of financial wealth, and yet has still found the power to say ‘no’ when Edward offered her hush money to stay off social media and keep quiet about her story. 

Aside from spending her days dealing with legalities and trying to mend her relationship with her children, Rochelle is now on the path to be a life coach. Her dream is to coach others, helping them to feel confident and good within themselves, by sharing the positive changes she’s felt within. 

Rochelle's story serves as a powerful reminder that this could happen to anyone, irrespective of financial status. It doesn't matter if you're a millionaire or not; we all rely on access to cash flow. Our bank balances, stocks, shares, and properties may give us a sense of security, but circumstances can change in unexpected ways.

We must not judge others solely by their assets, as life's twists and turns can lead to situations where those assets become inaccessible or insufficient. Rochelle's journey illustrates that none of us are immune to such challenges. She never imagined a day when homelessness would be a concern while living in her mansion, or that her brother would sacrifice his dreams to support her financially.

It's essential for us all to recognise that life is unpredictable, and any one of us could face similar circumstances. Empathy and understanding can go a long way in supporting those who find themselves in such difficult situations. Rochelle's story is a call to be mindful of our own vulnerability and to extend compassion to others facing hardships beyond their control.

If you want to follow Rochelle’s story, purchase anything from her wardrobe or work with her, she can be found: @restartlife_coach

Rochelle’s editorial piece in Yalla: 

https://www.flipsnack.com/chazak/yalla-09-find-the-light-pages.html

*Names have been changed for the purpose of this piece. 

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Dave’s journey began from his hometown in Alltwalis, Wales where he inherited his parent’s house after their death. Unfortunately, due to an incident at a small holding located nearby, the house flooded at a loss of £90,000 which insurance did not cover. After several years, Dave managed to sell the property, buy a one way ticket to London with the clothes on his back, a questionable hard drive and a vision to pursue his dream of being a film director. 

“If our ancestors did safety, we wouldn’t be here”

When Dave said this, I shuddered and then again on writing this up. It hit me, stories of my ancestors; the ones I knew and didn’t. The moves they made, the risks they took with 0 funds to their name and yet they moved countries by boat, had businesses and a community around them.                                                                                                       (Cue the viral picture of our PM, Mr. Sunak, on a stand with the slogan “stop the boats”).

In a time where we are consistently bombarded with negative news, backward systems and told these are how we do things with no wiggle room, we have forgotten that our ancestors, despite countless challenges and obstacles, were courageous, intuitive and persevered which many homeless individuals live by. 

Why have the rest of us forgotten adventure and self-reliance; living on our own terms?

Dave had no idea what his hard drive had held on to. Was any of his work on there? He didn’t know and it didn’t matter, London was calling and his end goal, everything in-between was a matter of hope, faith, belief and trust.

“Fear should be used to ascertain risk. Once you have ascertained risk, you should forget about fear”

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Although Dave began his new chapter sleeping on a piece of cardboard on London streets, he eventually managed to pick up some part-time retail work which helped him to source a second-hand MacBook Pro and a microphone. Once the retail placement came to an end, he used this time to concentrate on his movie project: Mystic Demon Killer. 

Dave was picked up by Vice for a documentary which led to Mystic Demon Killer being showcased at Islington’s independent cinema, Screen on the Green. 

“…the peaks have made up for the troughs”

Dave and I spoke in depth of how chapters of our lives are different versions of ourselves from various perspectives much like the multiverse concept. For someone who has experienced street living and minimalism for the majority of their adult life and only continues to see the positive shows the power of mindset and recognises the fact that our mindsets can influence how we perceive and respond to challenges we face. For those experiencing living on the streets, cultivating a positive and resilient mindset can be an important tool for survival, growth, and ultimately, finding a way out of homelessness. 

“I moved to the City as I had been attacked a few times because partially people were jealous of what had happened to me with the Vice documentary. That’s another thing, I hesitated when Vice said they would do a documentary because I thought to myself if I don’t get off the streets through this, there’s going to be problems so I separated myself from Tottenham Court Road and I was sleeping down the City Temple, not far from Chancery Lane”

Dave recognised the potential for resentment in his environment and made the decision to move his ‘home’ as a way of protecting his positive mindset. While it's true that jealousy can be a negative emotion, it can also serve as a powerful teacher. It’s important to contemplate the possibility that what one perceives as jealousy may, in fact, have another meaning in disguise - after all the world would be a much easier but boring place if we all saw everything in the same way. 

In Dave's case, his experience with jealousy may have served as a reminder of how far he's come and the connections he's made. On the other hand, the other person may have been reminded of what's possible for them and what they could achieve - a desire or inspiration some may say? Ultimately, it all comes down to mindset and being open to the range of emotions and motivations that every individual experiences.

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Our conversation veered to the pandemic era and how an idea was portrayed to the rest of us that all homeless individuals were taken off the streets into shelter, but behind the scenes of empty roads shown to us in the media was a slightly different story. 

According to Dave, individuals in hostels were the first to be placed in hotels during the COVID crisis due to their potential health risks and liability concerns. Dave described hostel conditions pre pandemic which could sleep 30 to an area.

“…you don’t know who they are, what drugs they’ve got, what condition they are in or anything and that’s the conditions you live in in these places. There were separate rooms upstairs but apparently only for the select few, normally that came under the druggie or other things that ticked all their tick boxes…my argument there is, you have a problem there anyway as I don’t think we are tick boxing or any animal is a tick boxing product”

Put another way, I am who I am perceived based on how I tick a box in that moment in time but my answer could potentially change.

We both agreed that nowadays the tick box was a source of reliance and from personal experience, our modern world is using it as more of a means to show quotas are being met than analysing the data for genuine research and changes. This is happening in the corporate world, a place that is managed by the likes of the FDA and the Government. The people we are meant to turn to as our security blanket. Perhaps we have been seeing this all wrong?

”What matters is what they are going through, as an individual”. 

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Are the powers that be the equivalent of our parental figures? They are there as our support system to help us grow into adults but just as our parents, they have been misguided too. Using their past experiences, traumas and perspective lenses to make decisions that don’t work with an evolving world that is simultaneously falling apart. The pandemic after all gave mother nature a well-deserved break. 

The Law of One philosophy suggests all individuals and beings are ultimately a part of this unified consciousness, and that separation is an illusion. The purpose of life is to learn and evolve towards a state of greater harmony and unity within our reality and yet we are in a time where we are actively finding new ways to segregate ourselves, be it careers, sexual preferences, culture etc. Whilst the veil slips for some, are other individuals directing themselves to such communities for a way to feel accepted or hide from a deeper truth; perhaps the fear of vulnerability leading to love?

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Maybe it is time to re-strategise the entire industry/ concept rather than cover up with cheap plaster. For those interested, Dave recommends “The homeless industrial complex” documentary on YouTube. 

“We have a military complex with the war so why wouldn’t we not have one with homelessness?”

The Industrial complex quoted Adam Zivo (2022), “the ecosystem of bureaucrats, NGOs and corporations that claim to aid the marginalised, but actually do little beyond profiting off the perpetuation of homelessness, poverty and addiction”. 

This speaks to the systemic issues that reinforce homelessness, poverty and addiction. The current ecosystem of organisations and institutions that claim to help the marginalised may be contributing to the problem rather than providing real solutions. How can we unite profit and meaningful change with a blend of what has previously worked with some innovation? 

Looking at the roots of homelessness in today’s economy, we need to address the lack of affordable housing, access to mental health and addiction treatment (without the long waiting lists), creating job opportunities and livable wages. Perhaps, there needs to be an increase in transparency and accountability measures and provide funding and resources to organisations that are proven to be effective in addressing homelessness. Ultimately, we need to prioritise the wellbeing of our most vulnerable over profit alone and bureaucracy.

Taking care of our health and wellbeing is a known factor to all of us but for those without a door to close behind them, it also means there is limited choice on what nutritious meals are on offer. It is easy to take for granted the ‘urgh, I have to cook’ but as with everything there is someone somewhere who is unable to when what they are craving for is something green. Dave mentioned that his hotel stay during COVID, there was no regularity to meals.

“In my hotel we weren’t fed regularly enough at all. If you relied on food coming in, you would have had a very bizarre diet and you probably would have been very unwell because definitely not enough food would have come in”

Dave believes the decision makers could have chosen a different plan to look after the homeless during this time. 

“[The kitchen was closed] I would have done it so they had a team of people in there, maybe like the army who would have cooked for everybody so everybody had decent meals but that wasn’t done and it was left with what had come in”

It is said that around 90% of the food we consume makes up our bodies. Contrary to what many perceive the street living life to entail, Dave among others, does not drink alcohol and is conscious of what he puts into his body.

“I have never been a drinker. I found out off the internet that 10 years ago or earlier, 90% of liver damage was caused by alcohol abuse now 90% of liver damage is caused by bad food and that’s not people making bad choices that means that the processed food and the quality of food is so low that it is putting strain on our liver and obviously, sometimes you will be fine. That explains why some of the younger homeless I know have got through it because they dealt with what was being given better than I could…I drink apple cider vinegar which repairs your liver as much as possible. I’m trying to give myself a decent diet. It does worry me now because if we go back in anyway into a situation where there is a scarcity of food, I am worried about what might happen”

Now in his 60s, Dave currently resides on the streets of Central London whilst he pursues securing a boat to call home which will allow him to discover cooking, catch his own fish and hopefully skip some of the 6am 2 hr queues for a morning bacon sandwich. He also continues to pursue making more movies. 

“I found myself saying, this kind of makes sense and how I got to where I am. You feel like you have grown but you don’t know how or where from”

To support Dave and his positive mindset: 

Purchase Cafe Art calendars, with his promo code: DHF2023 for 10% (proceeds go directly to Dave)

Purchase Mystic Demon Killer

Donate via GoFund Me and Patreon

Insta: @fussellfilms

Sources:

https://nationalpost.com/opinion/adam-zivo-vancouver-rejects-left-wing-activists-profiting-off-the-homeless

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Priyal was 18 when he first encountered surfing, and was instantly drawn to it. By combining his passion with his business management education SurfnYoga Mirissa was born, the original of the sub retreats, which sits highly on Google ratings, and for good reason. 

As the name suggests, the family-vibe hostel organised a timetable of both surf and yoga classes. 

Each day, 3 sets of yoga and surf sessions were offered, allowing you to alternate times and days depending on personal preference. 

My first stroll down the inviting slope towards the dorm, surrounded by greenery and a guiding Ganesh statue, I couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility. The dorm, which hosts 8 guests, is spacious and consists of several charging points, small individual safes, and a semi-outdoor shower, all conveniently next to the pool. 

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I opted to start my days with a 7.30am surf session. My surf instructor, Ale would be there by the surfboards to greet us and take us on the 20 min Tuk Tuk drive to Weligama, the area known for surfing, which was particularly great for beginners as the waves are smaller and more consistent. Only a short swim out from here were the larger waves for the improvers and advanced surfers. 

Ale has been surfing for 15 years and is self-taught, having spent every day after school practicing, which comes across in his patient and encouraging nature. We celebrated every fall and every balance, regardless of how long I stayed on the board! Ale has a way of noticing all the intricacies which will help you tweak your surfing game. 

Surfing allowed me to feel a connection to nature I have not felt before. I took a moment on the sand in Tadasana (mountain pose), echoing its teaching of stillness and patience before allowing the Indian Ocean to humble me. Surfing reminded me to not only accept but embrace life’s unpredictable waves. Despite our lack of control, we can remain relaxed and balanced, much like on the board, enabling us to navigate life’s chaos. Various forms of lessons have come my way since leaving SurfnYoga which, coincidently, is the last time I surfed. 

Without knowing, Ale helped me to recall the childlike self where there was no expectation, only excitement that I may/may not get on the board. Even the times I lay on the board to the shore gave me a sense of being in the present moment. None of it mattered. It just was how it was and every time I went back to try again with a giggle and even a new hole in the crotch of my shorts, it was all, in itself, perfect. 

With all the attempted pushups and bent standing, a yoga class was the perfect accompaniment. 

My roomie Alex was my teacher. She reminded me of what I enjoyed from a yoga practice. She seamlessly blended Vinyasa, Ashtanga, and Yin practices, tailoring each class to the collective needs while offering individual adjustments. Her synchronisation with the class’ pace created an environment where the beginner and regular yogis were in sync. 

For breakfast, the team offered fruit and coffee with a standard sweet and savoury menu that could be catered to various dietary requirements. Dinner, on the other hand, was what everyone looked forward to. It was when we all came together to find out what surprise was being served. Each night would be different and would be as epic as the last. Our chef Hussy noted everyone’s preferences and incorporated them during our stay where he could. It was obvious to the group that it was made with love. 

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After dinner, we joined the team in learning to play Carrom, a popular Indian board game. Bindu and Hussy took the time to teach us - it was definitely fun and got quite competitive at times!

My forfeit for losing a game was to help with dinner. I’m pleased to say my hoppers and coconut roti turned out pretty well - thank you Hussy! 

Another team member who deserves a shout-out is Mahy. The hitchhiking king and definitely the cheeky monkey of the SurfnYoga family. It was beautiful to witness how the team embraced him as one of their own. As Mahy teaches the team English, he is on his way to adding Sri Lanken to his fluently spoken languages. 

The retreat staff, with their genuine warmth and hospitality, added a layer of authenticity that made every interaction feel like a home away from home. SurfnYoga offer karma exchanges which is great for new teachers like Alex and Mahy who volunteer. 

The inclusion of a Tuk Tuk ride to Weligama, complete with board transportation, showcased not only convenience but a commitment to the surf community. In addition, SurfnYoga includes a 1 hour massage at a local spa which did not disappoint. For a stress-free retreat that requires minimal decision-making, SurfnYoga stands out as an ideal choice.

https://surfnyogasrilanka.com/

For private surfs, Ale: +94770208748

Alex is a travelling yogi:

to find her current location: +48608079172 or follow her @_heyimalex

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Photo by Olena Bohovyk

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For the past few months, I have been exploring in Crystal Palace.

Here are my top 4 finds that accompanied me on my walk in the park with a smile on my face and a follow-through of making the most of my day in so many ways.

In no particular order:

Kamari The Authentic Greek

One of the few places that open at 7am, serving a standard-size cup with a range of plant milk options.

My choice: Extra hot latte with almond & coconut

The mix of almond & coconut can go horribly wrong but Kamari nailed it a few times by different servers which proved to me it wasn’t a fluke.

The balance of almond and coconut when done right, lets you taste the coffee with the almond milk coming through first with a subtle yet obvious coconut flavour coming through. The almond milk helps to not make it too watery either.

https://www.kamari.london/

Blowing Dandelion

This cute little place is known for its artisan chocolate with a later opening time of 10am.

To me, their coffee has a subtler taste while bringing in the chocolate element. Their serving sizes align with the artisan vibe, yet you'll still get the standard 2 shots of coffee per serving. Your options for plant milk are minimal - soya or oat.

My choice: Extra hot latte with oat milk.

Between not being a fan of soya milk, not being a regular milk drinker, and incorporating bio hacks where I can, my only choice here was oat. It no doubt gave the coffee that creamy taste which let me dip into my coffee preference pre bio-hacking.

https://www.blowingdandelion.co.uk/

Crespidia

A cute quirky quiet hideaway for laptop working on Anerley Road. The owner is super lovely and they have a selection of cakes and pastries with limited vegan options for food but a choice of oat, soy, almond & coconut milk. Crespidia also serves cocktails.

My choices: Extra hot almond matcha and a rose mint tea.

Crespidia does a matcha lavender. No lumps, and no bitterness from the matcha powder. The lavender is very subtle but noticeable with attentive sips.

Neither the mint nor rose overpowered through so if you appreciate subtle flavours and a twist to your standard matcha or mint tea. These are worth a try.

Oh and my favourite thing in the place? The clown in the bathroom :)

There are 2 Crespidia’s in the area under the same owner. I found the clown at the 51 - 53 Anerley Road location.

https://www.instagram.com/crespidia/?hl=en-gb

HopScotch Taprooms

A newly opened intimate whiskey and cocktail bar with live jazz on Saturdays within the Crystal Palace triangle.

I discovered this the day after it opened by walking past. With a laid-back rustic charm to the place, I took a seat with my laptop and had an afternoon where I received several creative downloads :)

My choice: Cacoa tea.

Beautifully smooth, indulgent and pure. It just made me :)

The live jazz on Saturday is free entry. The vibe is again, laid back with a bit of a romantic charm to it. A great addition to the local area.

https://www.hopscotchtap.com/

Comment below which is your favourite and why!

Photo by Jamie Street

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What is romance?

I google.

Top hit:

noun

1. a feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love.

   "I had a thirst for romance"

2. a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life.

   "the romance of the sea"

The right-hand side of my page looked like this:

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I scoffed.

The first thing I read felt magical and then within the same eyeline the other made me cringe. It may be Wikipedia but it makes a valid point.

Romance or romantic love here is the same thing. I can see the ‘or’ but it’s the same definition, a synonym.

and yet, in reality, we have made romance this thing: flowers & chocolates but from/ with another.

I’ve always had a like-dislike relationship with Valentine’s Day.

I dislike the commercialism of it.                                                                                              I dislike having witnessed people falling into V day because they have to not because they want to.                                                                                                                                 I dislike having witnessed people doing this for 1 day rather than it being a regular occurrence between the people involved.                                                                                 I dislike how the day is more geared towards romantic, being in a relationship love. 

On the other hand…

I like how it can remind people to take a moment and appreciate the realness of their relationship.                                                                                                                                  I like that it encourages people to make an effort if they don’t usually.                               I like how the usual miserable office people have a secret glint in their eyes because they know they are guaranteed some kind of action.                                                              I like how the vibe in a space always feels lighter on V day, be it in a corporate office in a tense meeting, the gym, the bus driver, coffee shop, or at your parents, which by the way is our first biggest lessons in and about love.

Although I have never celebrated Valentine’s Day in the traditional sense, there is something about it that I love.

I love that every year, without fail I will acknowledge it. I will message my friends, single or not to say Happy Valentine’s Day. In my corporate days, I’d send an email around with the offer of homemade banana bread.

It has never occurred to me that this day is anything except a remembrance that I want my every day to be of the lightness, mystery, playful cheekiness flirt of remote romance between me and life.

A very special friend of mine once told me in her single days that she sent herself Valentine’s Day flowers. I didn’t think much of it at the time but now it makes me smile knowing that she did that for herself.

Leave a comment letting me know what Valentine’s Day brings for you and what you do every year for yourself ♥️

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"Ex homeless guy, ex-drug addict trying to setup my catering business and get my burger van business up and running"

Paul became a follower of @streetlifestories_ and upon clicking on his profile I saw the above and had to message him.

Our chat took place over Zoom which he took from a friend’s house for the Wi-Fi connection. Despite his experiences, he comes across super upbeat and has the self-confidence that I admire in fulfilling his traveling burger van dream.

Paul became homeless for a variety of reasons and steered away from talking about the past much. The conversation always came back to the present or future with a sense of proudness in getting to where he is today. His street time began in Brighton in 2015 where he also enrolled on a catering course, passing levels 2 & 3. After 2 years, he was housed in Brighton, but he found the hostel badly run and was keen to get out. With little support for his living conditions, he left Brighton to move up north, leading him to get a room in a shared house. Shared housing is similar to University halls – lock on the bedroom door, share everything else and not knowing what or who you are walking into.

"Could be sharing with junkies, alcoholics, thugs, whatever"

Although shared housing can get one off the streets, it comes with its own difficulties.

"they don’t assess you good enough. If they assess people properly what each person’s needs were, maybe if they were drug addicts, alcoholics, people in recovery. If they assess them properly and house them in the right house it would have been alright. Pointless housing someone who has just left rehab or in recovery in a shared house where there are loads of alcoholics and druggies; You don’t want that do yer"

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I couldn’t help but wonder what he would have gone through at the time of finding out that he got a room and then have the realisation that this might not be all he had hoped. Is the grass always greener on the other side?

Before moving from this place, Paul was robbed of close to £1,000 of catering equipment, including a Japanese knife set worth £160.00. He felt that the place he was staying and the police showed little interest. It made me question an incident I had been through during lockdown – someone came into my home and stole my work laptop while leaving a souvenir in the downstairs toilet (no joke) and during that time, the police were not interested. Was it because no one was hurt or because they assumed my laptop would be covered by work or insurance? Blasé comments between friends that if this incident had happened to someone of elite status, they would have fingerprinted or something…but nothing. So if it just comes down to paperwork and nothing really being taken seriously what would it have been like for Paul? After this, Paul moved a further 3 times due to damp, mould, sharing with hardcore addicts and dealers as well as the guarantee of food theft. He now resides in Cumbria.

I was still curious to the reasons why Paul ended up sleeping on the streets. After all, he had lived on so many including Manchester, Oldham, Stockport, Rochdale & Blackpool so I tried again. He went on to say that his story began with losing his job, rent arrears, leading to heroin; Admittedly he lost all hope. The government had sanctioned his job seekers and housing benefit for 6 months which didn’t even cover drug money and in the end, attended court where a judge agreed that he didn’t quite understand how someone who has zero coming in pay for anything; He was evicted.

While on the streets, Paul was not only physically and verbally attacked by passers-by but also recalled an incident with a police officer. The officer walked by called out: “a bum” to which Paul reacted, in his words angrily by questioning the comment: “why are you calling me a bum, I’m going to college”. We’ve all done it, gotten triggered by a comment because in actual fact we are genuinely trying our hardest to which we believe we are capable of, that frustration when someone puts you down about it and to top it off coming from an authority figure who is meant to care for citizens rather than casual digs. The officers went on their way to a chicken shop with their riot van left open. 30 grease-filled minutes later they were to come out to find that someone had raided the van, taken the doors and wheels off and all items were placed in another riot van parked in front. Was it Paul or a dose of karma? I’ll leave that to your imagination.

Not everyone living on the street is there for the same reason, ranging from relationship abuse, family, and finances to substances.

"they are all there for different reasons. Not all there for the same reason. Most people say ‘oh they are just bums’. No, they are not. They come from all different types of backgrounds & reasons and sometimes when you get onto the street you give up, you don’t care so you get into drugs to get away from the pain. It’s how I got into heroin cos thought why not – heroin is cheap – 3 for £25"

Heroin is known as one of the most addictive substances so understandably after one hit the user is craving more and for as little as £25 it’s no surprise they use this to keep warm, take a break from their twirling mind, escape from their present life. The thing is, we all do it. We all have our vices – drink, drugs, sex, food, shopping, plastic surgery, social media. The difference is that these people don’t even have spare change for that 90p water bottle from Lidl.

I’m happy to write that Paul is off the drugs. How? Willpower, self-belief and loving himself enough to see him through.

"Like most things, it’s mind over matter. You have to want it. Depends on the person. If you are ready to stop it then you can do it. You gotta keep motivated and keep people around you who motivate you. Start separating yourself from certain individuals"

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We find ourselves clinging onto relationships so we aren’t alone or dealing with our own demons or made to feel that we are somewhat lost whereas, in fact, it is exactly what we need. I felt inspired by Paul that even though he went through a different level of loneliness to most, he saw his truth. He needed to strip away even more. He removed himself from individuals that were continuing down the path they were currently on. He chose to be with himself and really feel into discovering his worth to believe and make hope a reality. He received comments such as “you aren’t going to get a burger van. How you gonna do that? You need money for that”. He truly believes he can and he is by taking steps of utilising money into his burger van instead of on drugs. He put £800 towards a burger van and is slowly working towards getting licences, permits and an upgrade to drive a tow.

"It is about changing your mindset. Your outlook"

Needless to say, Paul is extremely determined, passionate and has an innate self-belief that he can live the life he chooses. He genuinely would rather be homeless and alone than around people that bring him down or insinuate that his ideas are unrealistic.

Paul told me that typically beggars use money for drugs whereas the individuals who have no home are the ones that sit quietly – by having a regular conversation you could find out for yourself if they are telling the truth or not – do they change their name or story at each conversation for example. He taught me that a mobile phone is considered a necessity for a homeless person. With the digital world at the forefront, how else can they claim their benefits? How else can they contact the jobcentre or ring for a doctor/ ambulance? They charge devices in day centres, libraries and limit their usage.

There is such hype on individuality at the moment and recognising that we aren’t conformed into a box and yet the benefits system is not on a case by case basis. Paul feels there could be better monitoring on how individuals spend their benefits, perhaps less for drug users and more for the ones who are actively seeking help & further in their healing journey. Then again, it isn’t advisable to go cold turkey with drugs so that in itself would require managing.

Paul dreams of his van business to use all homemade fresh produce and create his own burger sauce. Wants to bring back Pie, Mash (eel) Liquor – an old fashioned UK dish. Selection of different pies with mash potatoes (his eyes lit up at this). Wants to make his own pastries, liquor sauce etc. Of course, I asked if he would cater for vegans to which he said yes 🙂 The plan is to attend music, food & drink festivals, gay pride & then head abroad to learn more about various food cultures from their origins. Eventually, experiencing Route 66 and settling in California.

You can catch Paul on:

Facebook: Living on the road

Insta: @schofield182

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