Southeast Mind & Body

12/06/2026

Up to my 20s, I thought I was good at understanding how other people felt. I was constantly told that I was good at understanding others.
But as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to realise that there is no real way of knowing exactly what someone else is thinking or feeling.
Moving to Australia gave me that confirmation. I encountered different cultures, religious beliefs, values, and educational backgrounds.
It became clear that there is no way of truly knowing another person’s experience.
That realisation has been humbling also felt as though one of my strengths had been taken away.

So instead, I pay attention.

I pay attention to posture, breathing patterns, and the words people choose. Only then might I begin to understand a little of what their experience is like.

Here in my room, you will be listened to. I will ask about you, and I think and hope I am sensitive enough to sense when you don’t want to talk about something.

Apologies if I cut you off in the middle of a conversation. I get a little too excited sometimes.
I’m curious.

And what a luxury it is to have you here on the couch.
No phone.
Just getting to know you.

30/05/2026

I get asked a lot if I cup myself, so here it is! This is how I do belly cupping. Lucky for you, you don’t have to do any of this—I’ll take care of it all for you. 😉

19/05/2026

Many people know of Masaru Emoto’s work with water.
He photographed water crystals after exposing them to different words, intentions, and music.

While his methods aren’t accepted as scientific, the message is still powerful.

Words carry energy.
Intention shapes how we feel.
Kindness changes the inner landscape.

Because we’re made mostly of water, his work offers a beautiful metaphor — a reminder that the way we speak to ourselves matters.

Gentle words soften the body.
Harsh words harden us.
What we say becomes the environment we live in.

A small reminder today:
Talk to yourself with kindness. 🤍

16/05/2026

It’s autumn.

Yes, it’s chestnut season. 🌰

Have you ever bought chestnuts from those chestnut stands in the city before?

When I first came to Melbourne, working at a chestnut stand was one of my early job. I was paid $9 an hour. We had three stands across the city, and if my memory serves me right, I was on Swanston Street and Bourke Street.

Bag of roasted Chestnuts and various nuts sold really well. But you also had to constantly watch for people trying to steal from the stand — and surprisingly, many really did try.
If anything went missing, I was responsible for the loss, so I guarded that stand very seriously.

Bathroom breaks were only possible when this somehow trusted Italian gentleman came by to watch the stand for a moment.

We also had to keep all the rotten chestnuts in a separate bag so the owner could make sure we weren’t helping ourselves during work.

At the end of the day, they would come and collect the stand. There was also this young English boy on a working holiday, just like me. When he found out I was 26, he was shocked and told me, “Just go home and have a baby.” 😂

He used to help me count the remaining chestnuts at the end of the day. He counted them so quickly. Everything he did was efficient.

There I was, a university graduate, yet I struggled to count chestnuts properly. I still remember the way he counted them. It was genuinely useful.

There’s such a difference between learning something in a classroom and learning through lived experience.

Sometimes I think about this in the work I do now.

So much of healing work cannot be fully learned from books alone. You learn through touching bodies, sitting with people, observing nervous systems, listening beyond words, and being present with another human being.

Some wisdom is taught.Some wisdom is practiced.And some wisdom only arrives through lived experience.

13/05/2026

Many of you who come to see me are trying cupping therapy for the very first time ✨

My cups land softly on you.
If fire cups are not for you, I also use different types of cups depending on your comfort level. Suction is always adjusted to suit your body and energy levels.

I want you to feel safe trying something new and different.

Cupping is an ancient technique passed down through generations.
I simply received the baton from ancient wisdom… and now I continue running with it 🏃🏻‍♀️🔥

09/05/2026

If anyone knew me when I was young, they probably could not believe I would end up living in a different country, leaving my mum in Japan.

As a child, I had terrible separation anxiety. I still remember crying every day at kinder because I just wanted to be with my mum. She was my comfort.

Yet at 26, around Mother’s Day, I left Japan.
I remember calling her from the airport crying. She calmly said, “It’s okay to change your mind and come back.”
That calm voice gave me the strength to keep moving forward.

Now that I am a parent myself, I honestly don’t know how she did what she did for us.
She never raised her voice emotionally. She taught us instead.

I was always proud opening my homemade bento at school and hearing my friends say “wow.”
She was often unwell throughout her life, yet she always reassured everyone that she would be fine again soon.

She is one of those quietly strong people who simply does not panic.
When I was going through difficult times, she told me, “Whatever you are going through, time will heal you.”

She also says children are not insurance. She never expects us to look after her in return for raising us.

Even now, with her soon turning 84, being far away from her still feels awful sometimes.

There is a Japanese saying that children give their parents a lifetime of happiness by the time they are three years old.
As a mum myself, maybe I still have more to learn from her.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mum.
Thank you for being my calm place, even from across the ocean. 🤍

And by the way, I also offer gift vouchers for Mother’s Day if you would like to treat your mum.
I’ll look after her with the same care I would want for my own.

03/05/2026

I don’t know if I’ve ever really “mastered” manifestation.

But I had a front row seat to someone who just lived it.

We met the year I arrived in Australia.
Within a week, I had moved in with her.

She already had her life set up — work, confidence, direction.
I was still figuring out my English, working low-paid jobs, trying to find my place.

We lived simply.
Some nights dinner was just tuna and rice.

But she would set the table like it mattered.
Candles, plates, the whole thing.

We drank cask wine…
but never straight from the box.
Always poured into a proper bottle, then into glasses.

When we walked down Chapel Street,
we carried branded shopping bags.

They were empty.
But somehow, it didn’t feel like it.

At the time, I thought she was just being playful.

But looking back, it wasn’t about pretending.

She didn’t focus on what she didn’t have.
She showed up as if life was already meeting her there.

And slowly… it did.

I learned a lot just by living beside her.
Not from what she said, but how she moved through things.

I’m not sure I’ve mastered it.
But I haven’t forgotten it either.

It’s her birthday this month.
I think I’ll set the table properly.

29/04/2026