My body has not always been an easy place to be.

First movement. Then a different question.

I have danced extensively and explored contemporary dance, Contact Improvisation, acrobatics and physical theatre. Yoga, meditation and martial arts have also accompanied me. All of this taught me, through the body, something about being human and relating to one another-and how much a body can express before a word is spoken.

At the same time, movement was long connected with skill, intensity and a certain urgency for me. It belonged to a particular image I had of myself. I valued that strength, but I identified with it strongly too.

A life without a straight line

My path does not fit neatly into a conventional résumé. I grew up in a retreat centre and met people offering retreats and seminars there from an early age. Later, I learned much through travel: I spent time with a Sufi community in Turkey whose spiritual outlook felt close to my own. In India, I stayed in ashrams and met spiritual teachers. One of my dance teachers was a dervish and a student of Gurdjieff.

I have also lived in very different ways: without money in a cave near Granada, at a boarding school among wealthy classmates, and in the midst of Berlin’s nightlife. These contrasts shaped how I see people, belonging and the many possible ways to live.

When my body set limits

Chronic illness and physical limitations changed my relationship with my body. The question was no longer only what I could do with it, but increasingly what was happening inside me, and what needed attention even if I could not change it right away.

I don’t want to romanticise that experience. There were, and still are, difficulties. But it has asked me to look more deeply and be patient with processes that cannot be hurried. It does not make me an expert on anyone else’s experience. It helps me listen more closely without assuming I know what is right for someone.

Making room for grief together

Grief work matters to me too. I have experienced spaces where people create a safe setting together to express grief and sorrow for the world. No one had to carry what was heavy alone or turn it into hope immediately. That experience showed me how much it can mean to listen to one another and make room for what does not yet have words.

Somatic Experiencing

Through my Somatic Experiencing (SE) training at the Centre for Inner Ecology (ZIO) in Zurich, many questions from my own journey have taken on a clearer shape. I am learning to notice protective responses, activation, resources and subtle shifts in connection without reducing a person to their nervous system.

I work alongside people as equals; my experience is a source of understanding, not a measure for your journey.

What guides my work

• Curiosity about lived experience instead of quick interpretations
• Autonomy and a process that remains clear and understandable
• Attention to resources and to the relationship between us
• Room for contradictions, uncertainty and what does not yet have words