Lúnasa, a reflection

Lúnasa marks the beginning of the harvest, and with lavender, montbretia, bamboo and buttercups, a circle was formed for our shamanic breathwork journey. This gathering was an invitation to harness a deeper connection to vision, direction and heart coherence.

The gold and purple colours and smells of the flora open us up to a journey of the senses. After a series of creative warm-up exercises, participants were introduced to different breathing techniques. We explored temperature and pace with nose and mouth breathing, while inviting engagement with our intention.

Although every journey is deeply personal, there are moments when it naturally broadens—like concentric circles rippling outward—our intentions stretch and we begin embracing thoughts of family, friends, loved ones and, perhaps, something even greater.

It had been over a year since I last facilitated a breathwork group, and I was met with strong openness and willingness from the group. As the rhythm of our breathing synchronised it became a beautiful flow. The circle of energy became fluid. Spirit, as breath, was with us.

Breathwork offers a way of exploring our inner landscape. Sometimes that means listening more deeply to physical sensations. Sometimes memories or emotions gently surface. At other times it feels like an active meditation, where breath, sound and guidance create space for inspiration and expression to emerge.

By breathing together in guided rhythms, we can begin to connect with deeper layers of awareness—our subconscious, our intuition, our energy systems. Thoughts, emotions, images and sensations rise and fall. Time softens. We drift into a place of profound rest, where healing can quietly unfold.

During the journey, an elephant presence appeared to me in one corner of the room. There was something deeply maternal about its presence—strong, elegant, unwavering. Was it carrying a message for someone in the group? Was it for me? Or perhaps for something larger than all of us?

Later, I discovered that elephants are often associated with wisdom, strength, protection and deep familial connection. What stayed with me most was the feeling of its four grounded legs. This steadiness seemed to echo the intention of the evening. We gather and create from strong foundations and from here we can move forward.

Also, I found myself returning to one word throughout the gathering: unity. It wasn't something I had consciously planned to speak about, yet it continued to emerge.

As the room settled someone asked me when and why I first began facilitating breathwork. While I could pin-point the training, the timing and the teacher it is the why that still catches me off guard.

Like Reiki before it, breathwork wasn't something I chose through logic. It felt more like a quiet calling—something familiar long before I understood it. At first, it seemed surprisingly simple. The depths that it continues to reveal to me blow me away, pardon the pun. I find engaging in group breathwork experiences to be one of the most healing complementary modalities.

Perhaps it is simply permission to exhale.

Perhaps it is our subconscious reaching for greater familiarity with itself.

Perhaps it is something beyond ourselves gently calling us home.

As I write these Field Notes, I lean into the imperfections, expressions and observations from my practice. Just like breathwork this seems to be where creativity lives and where breakthroughs thrive.

This is the kind of space I hope to cultivate.

A place of healthy vulnerability.

Reach out if you have any questions, observations or queries.