Why I Believe in Seeking Counsel

(and how Soul Counsel came to be)

There comes a point on any meaningful path — whether we are healers, therapists, teachers, or simply humans doing the deep work of becoming — when we realise that insight alone is not enough.

We need somewhere to speak honestly.
Somewhere to reflect without performance.
Somewhere to be met — not analysed, fixed, or subtly corrected.

We need counsel.

This belief didn’t arrive as an idea. It emerged through lived experience — through mistakes, through growth, and through more than three decades of walking alongside others in their healing and transformation.

The Relationship Is the Medicine

Early in my career, while studying counselling, something became very clear to me: the therapeutic relationship matters even more than technique.

You can learn methods, protocols, and frameworks — but without awareness, integrity, and reflection, even the most elegant techniques can cause harm.

It was also during this time that I encountered the Jungian concept of the shadow — the parts of ourselves we prefer not to see, yet so often project into our relationships. I began to understand that if I wished to serve others in an honourable and effective way, I needed to be as awake as possible within myself.

This understanding wasn’t purely theoretical. I had also experienced therapy that didn’t feel well held — and on occasion had been downright traumatising. I learnt much from these moments where I sensed the limits of another’s awareness, and felt the subtle consequences of that. I knew, very early on, that I did not want to become a “bad therapist”: well-intentioned perhaps, but insufficiently resourced.

So I committed not only to training, but to my own healing.

Choosing the Long Way Round

Over the years, I invested deeply in my own process — working through trauma, seeking counsel, uncovering my own blind spots, and developing the self-awareness required to sit ethically and cleanly with others.

This wasn’t about perfection.
It was about responsibility.

Especially the responsibility that comes with being invited into other people’s inner worlds.

After qualifying as a Medical Herbalist, I sought supervision and wise counsel from Psychosynthesis therapists — practitioners who held a holistic, spiritual understanding of the human being. They understood how I worked, and why I worked that way: mind, body, and spirit as an integrated whole.

This support proved invaluable. It helped me grow into my work with steadiness and humility. It helped me navigate mistakes — because, of course, we all make them — and allowed those moments to refine, rather than harden, my practice.

I have never stopped seeking counsel.

Not because I lack confidence, but because reflection keeps the work alive, ethical, and grounded in truth.

When Mentoring Became Part of the Work

I began mentoring others quite early on.

Through a scheme within the National Institute of Medical Herbalists, I supported newly qualified practitioners as they found their feet — helping them navigate the very real transition from student to therapist.

This included the practical, often unglamorous aspects of the work: finding venues, creating websites, and setting up practices. But it also included something far more important — the psychological and emotional impact of becoming a healer.

How does it change you to hold others in their vulnerability?
What does it stir in you?
How do you remain aligned when the work begins to ask more of you?

And, quietly but crucially: how do you hold clear, safe boundaries while remaining open-hearted and human?

This question came up often — particularly for newer practitioners, and especially for women in the early stages of their work. When you are young, empathic, and deeply present with others, the lines can feel less defined. Without guidance, people can find themselves unsure where responsibility ends, how to hold professional containment, or how to respond when transference, projection, or attraction enters the space.

These were not abstract questions. They were lived ones.

Part of my role became helping people understand that boundaries are not walls — they are what make trust, safety, and depth possible. That ethical clarity is not in opposition to compassion, but its foundation.

For some, spiritual language felt appropriate. For others, it didn’t. What mattered was meeting each person where they were, and helping them find ways of working that were grounded, clear, and true — without imposing a framework that wasn’t theirs.

When the Container Broke Open

As my work evolved — and as I stepped away from teaching solely within universities and institutional settings — something shifted.

When I began teaching my own courses, people started asking me to show up more holistically.

My shamanic clients, in particular, needed somewhere to speak. To express experiences that didn’t sit comfortably within conventional therapeutic language. My students — especially those training in shamanic practices and cacao spirit medicine — were walking deeply meaningful paths, but not always well supported by existing structures.

The work they were doing was unique.
The counsel they needed had to be unique, too.

The Landscape Now

In recent years, shamanic and spiritual training has become increasingly popular — but not always well held.

Many people complete powerful courses only to find themselves without adequate post-training support. Others are experiencing a kind of awakening — a shift in perception, empathy, and sensitivity — without having a place to make sense of it.

The type of counsel required is changing.

More people are seeking support that honours spiritual experience without bypassing psychological reality. Support that doesn’t flatten what is happening for them, but also doesn’t inflate it.

What is needed now, more than ever, is grounded, relational counsel.

Why Soul Counsel Exists

Soul Counsel grew out of all of this.

It is not supervision in a hierarchical sense.
It is not therapy in a narrow, clinical sense.
And it is not mentoring that tells you who to be or how to work.

It is a space to speak honestly, reflect deeply, and seek wise, grounded counsel — whether you are a practitioner holding others, or a seeker navigating your own transformational path.

A place where you don’t have to translate your experience into acceptable language.
A place where reflection is welcomed, not feared.
A place where growth is held with compassion and clarity.

What Soul Counsel Can Look Like

Soul Counsel is not a one-size-fits-all process.

Some people arrive with something specific they need to speak into. Others sense a longer conversation unfolding over time.

There are two simple ways this work often takes shape.

For some, Soul Counsel becomes a committed container — a series of sessions held over several months, meeting every two to four weeks. This rhythm allows space for reflection, integration, and continuity, and suits those navigating transitions, deepening their work, or tending questions that need time to breathe.

For others, Soul Counsel is something they step into as needed — a place to return when life, work, or the inner landscape asks for clarity. There is no expectation of continuity, only responsiveness to what is present.

Sessions are spacious and unhurried, allowing time to arrive, speak, reflect, and leave with greater steadiness and perspective.

If you are unsure which approach might suit you, that too can be part of the conversation.

A Gentle Invitation

If you are at a point where you feel the need to speak — about your work, your path, your questions, or the places where things feel unclear — you are welcome here.

Soul Counsel exists because none of us are meant to walk alone.
Not even — perhaps especially not — those who hold others.

If this resonates, you can read more about Soul Counsel or seek counsel when it feels right.

There is no urgency. Only an open door.