Take a moment before you read on.
Let your shoulders soften.
Notice your breath without changing it.
(If something inside you just exhaled a tiny bit, that matters.)
If your body feels constantly “on
If rest doesn’t feel restorative anymore
If you’re tired in a way sleep doesn’t fix
If something inside you feels unsettled, even when life looks fine on the surface…
I want to say this gently, and I want your body to hear it as much as your mind:
Nothing has gone wrong.
Your nervous system is doing exactly what it learned to do.
It is protecting you.
For many people, just hearing that creates a small shift. A drop in the shoulders. A deeper breath. A sense of being understood rather than analysed. And that moment matters, because healing doesn’t begin with effort, it begins with safety.
And safety doesn’t come from being told what to do.
It comes from being met where you are.
The Nervous System Speaks Before You Think
Your nervous system doesn’t speak in words or logic.
It speaks in sensations.
- A tight chest.
- A shallow breath.
- A buzzing body.
- A clenched jaw.
- A heaviness you can’t explain.
- A feeling of being “on edge” even when nothing obvious is wrong.
Long before your mind forms a thought, your nervous system has already assessed the environment and decided one thing:
Am I safe, or do I need to stay alert?
This happens automatically. It’s not a conscious choice. It’s biology, memory, and lived experience working together in the background of your life.
When people say, “I don’t know why I feel like this,” what they often mean is:
“My nervous system knows something my mind hasn’t caught up with yet.”
And the body is very patient, until it isn’t.
Two Rhythms That Shape How You Feel
Your nervous system moves between two primary rhythms.
One is the rhythm of protection and action
This is the part of you that helps you cope, respond, problem-solve, push through, and survive.
The other is the rhythm of rest and repair
This is where digestion settles, breath deepens, emotions process, hormones regulate, and the body restores itself.
Both rhythms are essential.
Neither is the enemy.
The difficulty begins when the body doesn’t know how to move back into rest.
Most of the women I work with don’t lack resilience. They’ve had too much of it. They’ve learned to stay alert, capable, strong, and responsible for a very long time.
And when that protective rhythm stays switched on for too long, the body adapts.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Quietly.
When Survival Becomes Normal
Modern life doesn’t give the nervous system many opportunities to fully settle.
- Deadlines.
- Screens.
- Emotional labour.
- Unprocessed grief.
- Being the strong one.
- Holding everything together.
- Always thinking about what’s next.
Over time, the body learns that slowing down isn’t safe. So it doesn’t.
People often say to me:

“I can’t switch off.”
“I’m exhausted but wired.”
“I don’t feel like myself anymore.”
“Small things overwhelm me.”
“I’m functioning, but I’m not okay.”
These aren’t personal failures.
They are nervous system signals.
Your body hasn’t forgotten how to rest.
It just hasn’t felt safe enough to do so.
A Real-Life Moment (Mine)
Over the last 18 months, life has definitely taken its toll and I share this not for drama, but for honesty.
My body was screaming.
Now it gently nudges.
For a long time, I was living in flight mode. Nothing felt safe not emotionally, not physically, not energetically.
- I moved countries.
- Packed up a house in three months after living in Canada for 22 years.
- Twenty-two years of life, memories, belongings, routines condensed into boxes, decisions, deadlines, and constant pressure.
It was intense.
I brought my best buddies with me, my solace, my anchors, my pets, Samosa and Kajal. They had been through everything with me, so there was no way I was leaving them behind.
And honestly? Just dealing with their paperwork alone was enough to make me want to stay in Canada and crawl under a blanket.
Then came the final stretch.
Days before I was supposed to fly, I had a car accident after an ice storm and my car was written off.
This was right in the middle of everything.
I was juggling:
- emptying and cleaning a rental home (with massive gratitude to dear friends who stepped in)
- final paperwork
- logistics
- sad goodbyes
- emotional overwhelm
- and now, a rental car
Flights had to be changed because there was suddenly no space for the pets on the flight I’d already booked.
One thing after another.
Relentless.
I genuinely think the stress and cortisol kept me going.
And then, I landed in London.
I arrived at Mum’s.
And my body screamed:
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”
I slept for two weeks.
Not metaphorically.
Actually slept.
I stayed awake just long enough to feed all of us, take Samosa for a walk, and then crashed again.
This wasn’t laziness.
This wasn’t depression.
This was my nervous system finally dropping out of survival mode because it finally could.
I was forced to rest.
It wasn’t until mid-March that I pulled myself together enough to function like a human again. And even now, I’m still closing chapters, finalising a divorce, tying up loose ends, letting my system catch up with the magnitude of what it’s been through.
That’s how nervous systems work.
They don’t collapse during the crisis.
They collapse after safety returns.
Why Thinking Doesn’t Bring Relief
This is where many people get stuck.
They understand, intellectually, that they’re stressed.
They know they should relax.
They’ve tried breathing, journalling, positive thinking, even meditation.
And yet, the body doesn’t respond.
That’s because regulation doesn’t happen through logic.
It happens through feeling safe.
You cannot convince a nervous system to calm down.
You have to show it gently, patiently, consistently that the threat has passed.
This is why body-based healing matters so deeply. It works with the nervous system instead of trying to override it.
What I See When I Sit With Someone
When someone comes to me feeling burnt out, flat, overwhelmed, or disconnected, I don’t see a problem to fix.
I see a system that has been holding more than it should have.
I see a body that learned to stay alert because it had to.
I see energy that has been quietly bracing for a long time.
My role is not to push that body into change.
My role is to create a space where the body realises:
“I don’t have to hold everything anymore.”
That moment is often subtle:
- A deeper breath.
- A softening in the jaw.
- A shift in posture.
- A feeling of being more present inside oneself.
But those small changes are not small at all.
They are signs of regulation returning.
This is the heart of Energetic Body Intelligence (EBI) and body-based healing: not forcing release but allowing the nervous system to reorganise itself in its own time.
Listening Instead of Forcing
In this work, we listen to the body.
We notice where it tightens, where it pulls away, where it braces.
We pay attention to what the system is ready for and what it isn’t.
Sometimes the body needs stillness.
Sometimes it needs movement.
Sometimes it needs breath.
Sometimes it needs rest.
Sometimes it needs expression.
There is no single correct way to heal, because no two nervous systems have lived the same life.
What heals one person may overwhelm another.
That’s why the body must lead.
Small Moments of Safety Matter
You don’t need to change your entire life to support your nervous system. This is when things can go horribly wrong, we try to change everything, like overhauling a car’s engine. That is a recipe for disaster.
This is how healing begins with noticing.
Noticing when your breath shortens.
Noticing when your shoulders lift.
Noticing when you push past tiredness.
Noticing when your body says “enough.”
Not to judge it.
Not to fix it immediately.
Just to notice.
Awareness itself can be regulating.
Being seen, even by YOURSELF, can soften the system.
Why This Understanding Is Foundational
Everything I do, including the 2-day Energetic Body Intelligence workshop is rooted in this understanding of the nervous system. (Yes, it’s a plug, make sure you register for the free workshop)
Not as something to fix.
But as something to support.
The work isn’t about learning more information.
It’s about giving your body the experience of safety.
We move slowly.
We listen carefully.
We let the nervous system set the pace.
And what people often notice isn’t a dramatic breakthrough, but a quiet shift:
- a deeper breath
- a sense of grounding
- a feeling of being more present in their body
That’s how real healing often begins.
If You Take One Thing From This
Let it be this:
Your nervous system isn’t failing you.
It’s been protecting you.
And with the right support, it can learn something new.
Healing isn’t something you do.
It’s something your body remembers, when it finally feels safe enough to do so.


Each page is filled with hand-drawn mandalas, affirmations, and mindfulness prompts to help you relax, reflect, and reconnect.