Energy Nirvana Healing

Energy Nirvana Healing 𝗖hrissie B 𓃗
Somewhere between Buddhism
and “for f**k’s sake”.
〰️
I work with humans. I work with horses. I like my woo woo without the bullsh*t.

Hello beautiful souls, I’m Chrissie ~ a Western Shamanic Healer, Energy Medicine Practitioner, and Ceremonial Guide based on Macleay Island. I hold spaces for women craving a different kind of healing ~ one that honours grief, listens to the body, and welcomes the deeper stories carried in the nervous system, the womb, and the lineage. My work is trauma-aware, ceremonial, and rooted in the belief

that the body is not a barrier to healing ~ it is the gateway. Through sacred circles, group ceremonies, and 1:1 healing sessions, I guide women into remembrance: of their voice, their power, and the wisdom already living within them. This is slow, cyclical healing. Reverent, embodied, and human. Not about fixing you ~ but returning you to what was never lost. Chrissie x

Disclaimer: I do not replace your licensed medical professional. I cannot diagnose, prescribe, or perform medical treatments. Seek guidance from a licensed medical professional for any physical or psychological conditions. All services are performed fully clothed.

09/09/2026

It truly is special watching someone soften ❤️

I’ve been aware of the problems surrounding fragrance for well over a decade. This isn’t new information to me, and my o...
08/09/2026

I’ve been aware of the problems surrounding fragrance for well over a decade. This isn’t new information to me, and my own reactions certainly aren’t where my concern about it began.

But hearing other people share their experiences reminded me just how important and necessary it still is to talk about this.

Because despite what we know and the information that is already out there regarding fragrance, it’s still fu***ng everywhere and we still slather it on.

We fragrance our bodies, our clothes, our homes, workplaces and public spaces. We even fragrance places people go specifically because they’re sick.

And don’t even get me started on nursing mothers wearing fragrance and nuzzling their babies into their fragranced chest to breastfeed. My head will fu***ng explode.

Us alternative health and healing spaces don’t get a free pass here either.

Essential oils diffusing in treatment rooms. Essential oils applied to skin in products. Incense burning. Sage/Palo burning. Yes, those too.

We’ll have a client write ASTHMA on their intake form and then have them walk into a room filled with smoke and airborne fragrance because it’s “natural” and “spiritual”.

We call ourselves holistic. Health conscious. Trauma informed. We talk endlessly about creating spaces that support people’s bodies and nervous systems.

And then sometimes completely fu***ng ignore what those bodies are telling us.

Natural ≠ appropriate for every body.

And somehow, the person who reacts to fragrance is often treated like they’re the problem. “You’re just sooo sensitive”.

I’m not interested in telling you that every fragrance is “toxic”, even though I may personally believe that to be true, because that isn’t a useful conversation.

I am interested in talking about what we already know, what the research shows, and why fragrance exposure deserves to be taken more seriously.

Especially in spaces/situations where people don’t have the luxury of simply walking away.

We’ve spent a very long time asking sensitive bodies to tolerate a fragranced world.

I reckon it’s about time the fragranced world started meeting us halfway.

07/09/2026

Apparently my last woo woo bu****it reel has informed the algorithm that this is what I want to see now.

It is not.

And yet here we fu***ng are.

Being served an endless buffet of “modalities”, galactic transmissions and quantum everything. My friends are now also messaging to tell me their algo is abusing them since watching my last reel 😂🤭

If I suffer, we ALLLL suffer.
You’re welcome!

Anyhoo, while I was unwell last week, I yet again found myself in the mentally challenged part of the woo woo space.

And I have questions.

So many fu***ng questions.

First question…

WTF is that creepy looking flog in the hat supposed to be doing?

Second question…

WTF is the creepy looking flog in the front supposed to be doing?

Third question…

Where the f**k is this woman’s brain?

And finally…

Who created and named this “modality” - if we can even call it one?

Have we seriously lost our rational, Godforsaken minds for clicks and attention?

I don’t like this acid trip anymore.
I want off the Magic School Bus.

Rap and R&B have been the soundtrack to my life since my early teens and to this day, they’re still my favourite genres....
02/09/2026

Rap and R&B have been the soundtrack to my life since my early teens and to this day, they’re still my favourite genres.

With Tupac’s death back in the news almost 30 years later, I’ve found myself thinking less about how he died, or who killed him, and more about what he left behind.

Because the boy had something to say.

I don’t think we realised back then as high schoolers just how potent his words were or just how relevant they would still be today.

He was brilliant and his words are medicine.

Pac, still pioneering from the grave.

01/09/2026

As soon as I started working with horses, I began having this vision, over and over and over again.

I see myself at the end of my life, with a horse.

I see my body draped across its back, completely still, surrendered, while being carried away from this world into the next.

There is nothing frightening about what I see. The vision is always so calm, and gracious.

Just the horse beneath me as a presence. Both earthly and otherworldly. Strong enough to carry the weight of what is left of me, and knowing exactly where to take me.

I can’t explain where this vision comes from, or why I began seeing it when I started working with them.

I just know it’s something for me.

I also knew I needed to make a request…

So I’ve asked.

When my time comes,
send me a horse.

Place me on its back and let me lay down everything I have carried in this lifetime.

And for the final part of my journey, let me be the one who is carried.

Send me a horse,
to carry me home.

**the gorgeous boy in this reel is part of the herd at Wellness with Horses and Humans**

I hope you find a lil somethin’ in this sprinkling of words…
28/08/2026

I hope you find a lil somethin’ in this sprinkling of words…

27/08/2026

Yesterday’s reel opened up a bigger conversation and thought process.

A number of women recognised themselves in that reel.

But what I keep being drawn back to is this…

How did we become her in the first place?

And there isn’t one answer.

You may have become the carer because you weren’t cared for in the ways you needed.

You may have had the role handed to you through circumstance, necessity or somebody else’s inability to show up.

Or you may have had the most beautiful, nurturing upbringing, where caring for others was modelled well.

But even something born from love can become a gilded cage.

Because when being caring, generous, nurturing and available becomes part of who you are, it can become very difficult to know when you’re caring because you genuinely choose to…

and when you’re caring because not doing it feels like a betrayal of the person you believe yourself to be.

There doesn’t have to be trauma underneath every helper, healer, holder or carer.

But I think there’s enormous value in getting curious about how we became her.

What shaped the way I care?

And am I just as free not to?

♥️

26/08/2026

I didn’t become the helper, healer, holder and carer by accident.

I became her because, in so many ways, she was what I needed as a child.

I learned to give the care I desperately needed and wanted to receive. I became the person who stayed, who could sit with the hard stuff, who made room for someone else’s pain because I knew what it felt like when nobody made room for mine.

And this IS part of who I am.

There is so much about this part of me that I fu***ng love. My compassion. The depth with which I care. My willingness to sit beside people in places others might run from.

I don’t want to lose any of that.

But chronic illness made me look at the parts that weren’t so beautiful too.

The overriding. The pushing through. The self abandonment and inability to recognise I’d reached my limit because somebody else needed something from me. The way I could find compassion for everyone except the person living inside my own body. And, under it all, WHY I was doing it.

I would never reduce chronic illness to a neat story about stress, trauma or self-abandonment. Bodies are far more complex than that, and illness deserves more respect than another fu***ng “your thoughts made you sick” narrative.

But, I believe our bodies live the lives we live with them.

Mine lived through years of me overriding its signals.

Chronic illness made ignoring myself impossible. And as brutal as that has been, it has also been one of the greatest teachers of my life.

It taught me my body isn’t something to drag behind me while I take care of everybody else.

It taught me to listen. To rest. To understand my capacity.

It taught me that my worth has absolutely f**k all to do with how useful I am to someone else.

That I can disappoint someone and still be a good person. Say no and still be loving. Let someone struggle without making their struggle mine.

That I can receive care instead of always giving it.

And most beautifully, it taught me that the little girl who learned to become what she needed doesn’t need to keep earning love that way anymore.

I can still be the helper. The holder. The carer.

But now I get to include myself in the people I care for.

And f**k, what a beautiful thing that has been.

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Macleay Island, QLD
4184

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+61406351072

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