Embodied Soul might not make sense to everyone at first glance.

Heavy lifting. Yoga. Intuitive healing. Strength training for trampers.
People might wonder how it all fits together.

But for me, this work isn’t random — it’s what I live. These are the practices that have shaped me physically, emotionally, and spiritually. They’re how I’ve come home to myself, again and again.


Yes, this business exists to serve others — but it’s also a living expression of my soul.
And one thing I can’t leave out of that expression is my love of tramping.


A few years ago, I walked the length of Aotearoa on Te Araroa.

I didn’t train for it. I just showed up and started walking.

What carried me through was a lot of determination — and the mobility and body awareness I’d built through years of functional yoga. But by the time I reached the bottom of the South Island, my body was struggling.

My joints ached. My muscles weren’t coping. Sometimes my knees would just buckle under the weight of my body and my pack. I was incredibly lucky I didn’t get injured.

My cardiovascular fitness was better than it had ever been — but my body was screaming for strength.

And, as I never do things halfway, once I’d settled here in the Tasman region, I bought a gym and taught myself how to strength train. I did a heavy lifting mentorship with Kathryn Bruni-Young of Mindful Strength, and completed a year-long course to become a certified personal trainer.

I don’t get out tramping as often now — I’ve switched to ultra running so I can stay closer to home for my daughter and my business. But the strength training I’ve done has made a massive difference for my tramping when I do get out. I feel more stable, more resilient, and far less wrecked at the end of the day.

And that’s why I started this group.


Unless you want to stick to the popular tracks, New Zealand’s backcountry is hard. The trails are often steep, uneven, and unpredictable.

Strength and mobility aren’t just “nice to have” if you want to tramp in Aotearoa — they’re essential if you want to do it sustainably and injury-free.

Being prepared makes the experience so much more enjoyable. You don’t come home sore the next day, and there’s far less fatigue at the end of a big day on the trail.

That’s what my  group is about — building the kind of strength that supports your body in the bush, so you can keep doing the things you love for as long as you want to do them.

It’s for people who would love to get out tramping more often — but who’d prefer to do it with a group.

For those who want to connect with others, feel inspired, and plan adventures together.

For those who want to feel more capable, more resilient, and more supported in their bodies.

We meet twice a week, and train with a focus on building strength, mobility, and stability. Not just for general fitness, but for real terrain, long days, heavy packs, and the kind of movement New Zealand’s trails demand.

Right now the group is all women. The vibe is relaxed and welcoming — a space to build strength and confidence in your body, at your own pace, alongside others who also love wild places.
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As I prepare to move into my new space in Motueka, I’m doing a lot of things I’ve never done before. I’ve hired someone to build me a website. I’ve found a photographer to take photos for the website. I’ve set up a booking system, created proper intake forms — all the things.

I’ve run my own business for years, but I’ve always done it my way. Word of mouth. Low key. Low budget. Minimal systems. It worked well enough — but this time, I’m going all in.

While I’ve lacked confidence in the past, I’m now much clearer on what I want to create. That clarity hasn’t come easily. It’s come through years of practice. While I didn’t invest much in the outer packaging before, I poured everything I had into the work itself — training, certifications, and hours upon hours of hands-on experience, often working for little or no profit just to get better at what I do.

Over time, I’ve seen how this work lands — how it strengthens people, softens what’s tense, and supports real, grounded change. That’s what’s grown my confidence. That, and learning how to embody the strength I now help others build — to create a container strong enough to hold all of what I feel and sense in this world as a sensitive soul.

​This next chapter feels solid. Like the outer form is finally catching up to the depth of what’s been gradually building. Because honestly? A lot of what people put out into the world looks polished — but lacks substance. I’ve always done it the other way around.

What I offer is about more than fitness. It’s about strength, yes — but also about helping people feel more at home in their bodies. To move better in daily life. To feel more capable. Calmer. More resilient. The strength training, restorative yoga, and somatic work — they all work together to support that.

And then there’s the intuitive healing work. I don’t speak about it much — not everyone’s ready for that part — but those who are tend to find me, even without me trying to find them.

Here’s something I’ve come to realise: we don’t create the things we think the world needs. We create the things we’ve needed most. Everything I offer, I needed myself.

As a child, I was full of anxiety from undiagnosed autism and high sensitivity. I didn’t know how to relax until I found yoga nidra. I didn’t know how to meet grief and rage until I discovered safe, body-based ways to feel them. I didn’t know how to trust my intuition until Theta Healing showed up in my life. And I didn’t have a container strong enough for all that I am — until I found strength training. So, I offer the tools I never had.

But more than anything, what I’ve always longed for — and never quite found — is a true sense of belonging. I’ve walked into so many spaces and felt invisible. Not seen. Not included. Not welcome. It happened so often, I started to feel like I must be from another planet. Eventually, I realised: belonging doesn’t come from others. It doesn’t come from the external. It’s something we build within — a sense of belonging to ourselves, our bodies, this earth.

That longing is a deep wound for many sensitive souls — especially those of us who’ve never quite felt like we fit. So now, having slowly built that sense of belonging in myself — through the long journey of understanding who I really am — I’m creating a physical space where I belong. And in doing so, my hope is that others feel that too.

I want every person who walks into my space to feel seen. Included. Valued. And to recognise that their presence here is important. Because the greatest gift we have to give one another is our presence.

And the beautiful thing is — the people who’ve come to my classes lately have really embodied a sense of belonging and transmitted that feeling to others. New people are welcomed. People make space. There’s such a friendliness amongst all my classes which I’ve never felt before. And it feels like everyone who comes is meant to be here.

That’s the kind of community I want to build. Not one with in-groups and out-groups. Not a space where cliques form and exclusion masks itself as connection. But a space where people feel strong enough in themselves to stay open to others.

If that speaks to you — you’re welcome here.