BREATHWORK
Why I Fell in Love with Breathwork
(And Why I Can’t Wait to Share It With You)
If you and I were having coffee and you asked me how I ended up teaching people how to breathe, I’d probably laugh and say, “Well, it’s a bit of a story…”
Because honestly, I was the last person you’d ever expect to be into breathwork.
I was that classic “busy” person. You know the type — always thinking ahead, planning, moving. Meditation? Not for me. Relaxing? Only if it involved ticking something off a list. I couldn’t even lie still at the end of a yoga class for the ‘relaxation’ part. While everyone else was supposedly floating on a cloud, I was lying there writing my mental grocery list… dinner, the kids, what needs doing tomorrow… Can I get up yet?!
The Breathwork That Changed Everything
But then, totally by accident, I ended up in this breathwork session. Not because I was searching for answers, but because it was part of a business program I was in at the time. We were there to talk strategy, not healing. But that session? Wow.
Lights, colours, sensations - it was like my whole body woke up. For the first time, I wasn’t thinking about my to-do list. I met me - not the version of me I’d been dressing up as for years, but the real me underneath all the noise. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve felt it, but I walked out knowing something inside had shifted.
From There… to the Farm… to Covid…
Over the years, I started paying more attention to my breath. I noticed how it calmed my animals. How it settled my kids. How different I felt when I actually slowed down and let myself breathe.
Then during Covid, I joined a Wim Hof group on Zoom. Three mornings a week we’d get online and breathe together. It sounds simple, but honestly, it was incredible. Complete strangers, brought together by breath, supporting each other through a weird and uncertain time.
The Fall (and the Wake-up call)
Fast forward to September 2024. I had a fall off my horse - the kind of fall that lands you in hospital for four days with three broken ribs and a whole lot of bruises.
And here’s where things get interesting… You’d think pain meds would be the hero in this part of the story, but nope. Not for me. Turns out, painkillers just sent me completely loopy - think wild visions and zero pain relief. Fun times.
The doctors wouldn’t let me leave until I could cough properly (because pneumonia, apparently). The problem? I couldn’t cough. I could barely breathe. And lying in that hospital bed, wired up and frustrated, I had this massive realisation: I cannot function without my breath.
No breath, no calm. No breath, no sleep. ..
No breath, no control over my mind.
It hit me like a tonne of bricks - I finally understood why I love our farm so much. The quiet, the birds, the wind - it’s not just peaceful. It helps me breathe.
So there I was, stuck in bed, becoming known as the bird lady on the ward. I played my Spotify playlist of Australian birds on repeat, imagining myself outside breathing fresh air under the trees.
Could my brain tell the difference? Who knows. But it helped.
A Promise to Myself
I made myself a promise in that hospital bed: Never take breathing for granted again.
Recovery wasn’t quick. Nearly four months of nothing - no walking, no ‘getting on with it,’ because even walking made me breathe harder. Those months were tough. I was miserable. Days blurred together with terrible TV, a bit of email-answering, and not much else. My body hunched in on itself, protecting my ribs, making my lungs smaller.
Rebuilding My Breath
Slowly, I started rebuilding. Osteos, massage, kinesiology… anything to help me unfurl again. I learned I wasn’t breathing properly - I’d trained my body to pull breath up into my shoulders, or out through my back. Fascinating… but not ideal.
So, I went back to the beginning. YouTube videos, online courses, anything I could find about breathwork. That’s when I found Breathless and booked in to visit Johannes in the Snowy Mountains. Finally, a goal - something to look forward to.
His instructor training was everything I needed. It reignited that spark. I dived into learning everything - the physiology, the science, the practice. It felt like a natural next step after my diving days, where I’d literally taught people how to breathe underwater. Now? I was learning how to teach people to breathe in real life - no tanks, no flippers, just lungs and presence.
Finding My Breath Again
Four nights in the mountains, surrounded by gum trees, incredible people, and so much heart - it felt like home. Everyone there came from different walks of life, but we were all connected through breath.
I left with a deeper practice and a burning passion to share what I’d learned. I started experimenting on myself, my family, my friends. The changes? Incredible. Something so simple having such a profound impact.
Two months later, I went back to do my Masters. Yep - officially hooked.
What Comes Next
Now I’m bringing breathwork into everything I do. Especially with the neurodiverse guests who come to stay at the farm.
I see the difference it makes — in calmness, connection, clarity. I’ve got big dreams for this:
✅ Breathwork retreats at the farm
✅ Weekly classes to help people reset, calm down, and breathe again
✅ Tools woven into our respite stays to help regulate nervous systems in the gentlest of ways
✅ And sharing this simple, powerful practice with anyone who’s ready to feel better — one breath at a time
If you’ve ever thought, I just want to feel calm again… or I wish I could switch off… I’d love to show you how something as simple as breathing can make all the difference. Because breathwork didn’t just change my life — it gave me my life back.
Ready For Your Own Unique Farm Stay?
