Wild Reflections from the Intell Workshop

 “We cannot change what we are yet to understand.”

Writing this after a nourishing dinner, with my feet up, body softened, heart open and mind gently exhaling, I feel lighter than I have in a looong time.

This weekend, I stepped into a room that held not just people—but presence. The Intell Workshop, a two-day immersion facilitated by Emotional Intelligence coach @neridabint, became more than just a professional experience—it became a soul-level excavation, a sacred homecoming. Two deeply transformative days cracked me open in all ways—an invitation to feel, to witness and to be fully witnessed.

As a multi-passionate woman and Vision Therapist who believes in the power of emotional integration and somatic support, I often speak about the importance of seeing ourselves clearly. These last two days reminded me that the truest vision begins within.

Early in the day these potent words from Alan Watts arose like a fire cannot burn itself, a knife cannot cut itself, and consciousness cannot see itself—we are often unable to witness the stories we have lived inside for years until we give them voice.

On Day 1, Nerida invited us to write down the thoughts we have and the stories we tell ourselves—the inner dialogue that quietly shapes how we walk through life. Reading my words aloud was like swallowing glass—painful, raw but strangely liberating.

In that sacred space, surrounded by beautiful, powerful, heart-led humans, I was fully held. Fully witnessed. No one tried to fix me, as I ain't broken. No one flinched at my words. The was no judgment. Just presence and love. With that, some of the armour I’ve worn for years and years began to soften—not in chaotic collapse, but in a gentle release.

It was no surprise to me that the anger release came the easiest. I had a lot of frustration and fire bubbling beneath the surface, just waiting for permission to rise. What did surprise me, though, was how eye-opening it was to connect some of this rage back to certain people and old childhood wounds—the ones I thought I had already dealt with, the ones that still held whispers of pain I was yet to fully acknowledge. No matter how often I choose to unleash through sacred rage, there always seems to be more.

More layers.

More memories.

More meaning.

In this space, I felt the truth of that: anger is not just something to let go of—it’s something to listen to and feel into. Each new release is an invitation for me to feel deeper and uncover anything that is still tucked away, asking to be felt and finally freed.

The next task cracked me open: The room was asked to write down all the negative thoughts we have–the stories we carry, the inner dialogue that shapes the way we feel, and act, then say them aloud. Yes, out loud. In front of strangers, yet somehow not strangers at all.

Reading my own words felt like swallowing glass. Speaking them aloud was like peeling back armour I was unaware I was still wearing.
Here are some of the thoughts that were shared vulnerably as I was witnessed fully.

“You don’t deserve to take up space.”

“You’re only a novice.”

“You’ll never grow into a beacon of light.”

“You’re not capable.”

“You write to impress, not to inspire.”

“You aren’t allowed to show emotion.”

I would never say these things to another person—so it is absolutely fucking bananas that I have been saying these words to myself!

This was confrontational psychology in motion. This was facing and connecting with my emotional home on a whole new level.

Emotional home might be a new term for you—it was for me too not so long ago. Throughout the workshop, I came face to face with mine (on multiple occasions). We dove deep into the six core emotions—anger, fear, sadness, shame, guilt and joy—and explored the emotions we unconsciously fall back into when we feel stuck or unsafe. These are our emotional homes: the familiar internal states we often return to without even realising it.

When I allow myself to truly feel what is arising—when I stop running and start breathing—I reconnect with my inner resources and have the ability to gently recalibrate and self-soothe.

We explored the five steps of Emotional Intelligence, uncovered styles of emotional attachment, childhood identities, masks we wear and practiced the sacred art of being lovingly witnessed in our emotional expression—without being told to fix, shrink, hold it in or calm down.

For me, that emotional home includes shame, avoidance, self-doubt, guilt and judgment. 

Not necessarily “bad” or "negative" emotions, but heavy ones.

Not wicked, but uncomfortable...and deeply familiar.

Not broken, but long overdue for a reset.

Through this process, I saw how my coping mechanisms—procrastination, overwhelm, perfectionism and even the know-it-all mask—were rooted in unresolved shame and a deep, and I mean really deep, primal longing to feel safe and loved.

Each one tied to survival instincts and unprocessed pain. A mic drop moment occurred when it came to light that what once protected us may now be limiting us. 🎤

That painful clarity helped me see: On multiple occasions I have been externally seeking what I have struggled to provide myself internally—compassion, love, permission, softness, rest, presence.

As part of our work, I invited others to reflect on how I made them feel in our relationship or friendship. Their words moved me to tears: supported, lovingly held, fully heard, inspired, unconditionally loved. It was deeply affirming to receive that kind of reflection. The feedback I really needed—the kind that stirred something deeper—was harder to hear: tries to do it all, rarely asks for help, over-functioning, always holding it together, hard to read sometimes, seems strong, I’m not always sure if you’re okay. These words were confronting, yet so supportive. They shone a compassionate light on the parts of me that I often keep hidden beneath the surface—the patterns I fall into when I feel I must carry everything alone.

This feedback wasn’t criticism. It was clarity. It was an invitation to soften, to ask, to receive and to let people in.

🌀I don’t have to show up for everyone, all the time.

🌀I can still be powerful without pushing.

🌀I can be soft without being small.

🌀I can be whole while still healing.

As a Vision Therapist for over 15 years, I have understood the body as a vessel for sensory integration, development and function. This workshop reminded me that the body is also a library of stored emotion.

Every emotion also has a physical sensation.

Tears? A natural way for the body to recalibrate—feedback that something within me is being released or expressed.

Shame? A heaviness that makes me want to shrink and disappear—a sign that I feel unworthy or disconnected from love and belonging.

Fear? A lack of safety—heart racing, chest tightening, breath shallow—my nervous system is alerting me to potential danger or uncertainty.

Sadness? A deep yearning for connection and understanding—a sign that something meaningful feels lost, missing or unacknowledged.

 Anger? Tension in my neck and shoulders—letting me know that my needs weren’t met or my standards and values were crossed.

Somatic work is the missing medicine for so many. As a Vision Therapist, I understand how vision is connected to the nervous system which also supports the sensory system, and as an Intuitive Wellness Guide, I witness multiple times a week how unprocessed emotion gets stored in the body.

What we don’t feel, we carry.

We dived deeply into how emotions live in the body—how shame collapses the stomach, guilt curls us inward, anxiety flutters through the chest, anger simmers in the jaw or boils in the fists. Sadness, like water, needs to flow.

Unfortunately society has taught us to hold it all in. Remember that tears are the natural rebalancing system of the body—not a sign of weakness, but of wisdom.

When we hold in emotions, we feel heavy.

When we release, we remember who we are beneath the noise.

We cannot separate our minds from our bodies.

We cannot override trauma with thought alone.

Every emotion has a physical sensation.

Unless we learn to move through them somatically and viscerally, they don’t disappear.

They store themselves.

They shape us.

They limit us.

As an Intuitive Wellness Guide, this also affirmed everything I have come to believe and flow with.

Emotional and somatic intelligence is meant to be integrated.

We cannot separate our minds from our bodies.

We cannot override trauma with thought alone.

This workshop held a mirror up to some of the protective masks I hadn’t even realised I was wearing in a variety of situations: procrastination. Overwhelm. The “know-it-all.” Hyper-independence. Each one had once served a purpose—to keep me safe, to help me succeed, to earn love or respect—but here, in this brave space, I was invited to see how they were now limiting me.

One of the first women I met while waiting to go in on Day 1 of the seminar reflected back to me the subtle ways the “know-it-all” persona showed up in our conversations—a gentle, eye-opening moment that invited me to pause and truly listen to how I was showing up. It was definitely uncomfortable, but so necessary. I realised I had been using this mask as a way to stay safe, to avoid vulnerability and to protect myself from the possibility of not being enough.

With that awareness came a choice: to keep hiding behind them or to gently begin taking them off—each one tied to survival instincts and unprocessed pain. Let me be real with you—what once protected us may now be the very thing holding us back, quietly limiting our growth, connection, and authenticity.

I have come to embrace the “know-it-all” persona—not as a flaw, but as a part of me that has, in many ways, supported and guided me through life. She is the part of me that is deeply curious, loves to learn and finds joy in sharing knowledge with others. She has helped me feel safe in unfamiliar spaces, build credibility in my work and spark meaningful conversations that lead to connection and growth.

When I lead from this space with heart—rather than ego—it’s no longer about needing to be right. It becomes about contributing, supporting and being of service. It’s how I connect with like-minded souls who light up when they learn something new or dive into deeper truths. 

The difference now is awareness. I no longer let that part run the whole show—but I also don’t shame her. She’s welcome here too, just with a softer voice and a whole lot more compassion.

On multiple occasions I have been externally seeking what I have struggled to internally provide myself—compassion, permission, softness, rest, presence.

This workshop added more than just trinkets to my treasure box—it added language, presence and a deeper level of compassion.

As a human being and as a woman, I feel a deeper connection to my emotional landscape and more compassionate toward myself and the emotions of others.

As a Vision Therapist, I now feel more resourced to support patients who struggle not just visually and physically, but emotionally as well.

As an Intuitive Wellness Guide, I feel more anchored in my ability to hold space for emotional processing, release and the return to inner harmony.

I now know how to help others:

🌀 Identify and shift their emotional home

🌀 Recognise childhood identities and coping strategies

🌀 Rewire and reword inner dialogue

🌀 Somatically move through shame, fear, anger, sadness

🌀 Self-source to self-soothe rather than seeking external validation

🌀 Take radical responsibility without shame

At the end of Day 1, I felt everything at once and experienced both emotional and physical polarity.

Lightness and heaviness.

Gratitude and grief.

Joy and sadness.

That is all part of the work. It’s not good/bad. It’s not easy/hard. It’s not either/or. It’s both/and.

Relief and apprehension.

Excitement and fear.

Control and surrender.

Healing and hurting.

I went to sleep knowing I had softened something old and started to awaken something new.

I woke up this morning—a tad nervous but willing—ready to meet Day 2 from a different outlook.

The exposure and chaos circle was one of the most confronting and emotionally intense processes I have ever moved through. As blunt and harsh as it was, being invited to speak putrid words to others—words that were said to each person as they were being bounced and pushed around the circle—shook something deep within me. It felt like I was inflicting pain, like I was becoming the very thing I have always tried to protect others from. I hated that feeling. Even knowing it wasn’t real life and that it was a facilitated process, my body still reacted as though I was causing harm. That discomfort allowed me to deeply feel the weight of the words I have internalised for far too long. When those words were finally mirrored back to me—spoken by others in that same conscious chaos—I heard them differently. I let them land. I let them move. I let them shift old wounds and long-held hurt. This circle became a powerful container for transformation. An opportunity for all of us to be seen in our shadows and still held. Witnessing each other show up in the rawness of it all—was profoundly empowering.

By being intentional and choosing to honour my healing, here are a few of this things I am walking forward with a knowing:

🌀 That vulnerability creates connection, not disconnection.

🌀 That feeling my emotions isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom.

🌀 That confronting my stories is how I change them.

🌀 That the body knows how to let go if we give it space to speak.

🌀 That the most dangerous person is the one uninterested in and disconnected from their pain.

🌀 That accountability is the bridge to compassion.

🌀 That I am ready to be kinder to myself.

🌀 That by unconditionally loving myself I reciprocate this far and wide.

With new trinkets added to my personal and professional treasure box, I now have an even richer way to guide others through both the rocky and smooth terrain of their emotional landscape. It has given me frameworks to support my clients and patients in naming and navigating fear, anger, sadness and shame. It has strengthened my ability to show up in relationships and remain in my own body even when others are hurting.

It reminded me that somatic work isn’t optional—it is essential.

To help others feel safe, I must feel safe in my own nervous system.

This isn’t the end of the work.

It’s a sacred continuation of the journey.

As Day 2 came to a close, I joined some of my new soul family for a swim in the Newcastle baths with a rainbow showing its brilliance in the sky. The water felt like a sacred rinse—a soft return to self, a washing away of all that no longer needs to be carried.

In the stillness of the water, I found the freedom to voice how I was feeling in this moment—I was supported. There was no need to paddle frantically to keep my head above water. I was safe to rest, to be held, to float, to be me. The armour had dissolved, my voice had softened, and the anchor that once dragged me down had finally been released.

Tonight, after writing these final words, my head is ready to rest. My nervous system is grateful. My heart is open. My mind is trusting. My soul is stretching open.

I will sleep deeply knowing that I am both eager and apprehensive for what is ahead—and that is more okay.

I am learning to hold the polarity of life: love and grief, courage and fear, anger and peace, shadow and light, conscious and unconscious, being and becoming.

This is what emotional intelligence feels like in motion.

This is what real growth looks like: messy, magical and magnificently human.

There is a special mention I could give to each person who was present this weekend. I was so honoured by the space that was consciously and intentionally curated—a space that felt like a sanctuary for truth, tenderness and transformation. The safety net woven by the incredible humans in that room allowed me to fall and bounce back as often as I needed, to soften and strengthen, to come home to my body when I was ready. One woman in particular—a badass business babe with fierce love in her eyes and grounded wisdom in her presence was there the moment my armour first began to form during school years, when my nervous system whispered, “Protect yourself.”
She saw the armour returning. She felt it. She held space. She reminded me that I didn’t have to carry it alone and voiced that I didn’t have to be ‘perfect’. When I was ready she gently supported me, alongside the rest of the room as I released the immense weight I had been carrying for far too long, and she witnessed—without judgment—as that armour finally fell away and fuck it felt good.

I am here for the real, the raw, the reflection, the rejuvenation and the rising. I am here for the sacred discomfort that brings me home to myself. I am here to walk through each fire. I am here to witness, guide and support you as you walk through your own fires in the jungle of life.

I invite you to carry these wild reflections—whispers from your inner wilderness, quiet companions guiding you home to your body and heart, offerings from your wild soul to everyday life.

You cannot give to others what you are not willing to give to yourself.

Be lovingly witnessed as it is true medicine for the nervous system.

You are not what you come from. You are who you choose to become.

If you abandon yourself to keep the peace, the war will continue to rage within.

Healing is remembering who you were before the world told you who to be.

Feelings are waves (remember 90 seconds)—none are permanent, but all are powerful messengers if you are willing to listen.

When you let your truth rise from your bones, you give permission for others to do the same. Liberation is contagious.

The most radical act of self-love is choosing yourself in a world that profits off your doubt.

Even the wildest forest began with one seed. Your growth may not be loud, but it is sacred.

You are your own homecoming. Come back to you. Again and again.