Some of us do not choose the healing path. We are shaped into it by what finds us before we have words, before we have anyone to help us make sense of what has arrived.

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I was ten years old when my father died suddenly. Two years later, my mother and I left Switzerland for Belgium, following the gravity of a life that had been broken open.

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Something in me learned very young how to read what was unspoken, how to feel what moves beneath the surface and how to hold what could not yet be named. This is where my work began.

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My path has been shaped as much by what I have lived as by what I have learned. It has not followed a straight line, but unfolded through interruptions, redirections, and many quiet rebuildings.

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I trained in osteopathy and naturopathy, and later integrated trauma-informed and polyvagal-informed approaches, including hypnotherapy, EMDR, IFS (parts work), and archetypal mapping rooted in Jungian psychology, tarot and astrology.

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I have worked with thousands of bodies and held countless stories. Long enough to know that the body does not forget what the mind had to set aside in order to survive.

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Eventually, my own body spoke. The work that had once felt like a calling was being offered from a place that could no longer sustain it. I recognized in myself what I had seen in so many others:
a way of giving that did not know how to receive,
a devotion that did not include rest.​

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I now work at the meeting point between body, psyche, and soul, using the birth chart as a living map of the deeper patterns shaping a life.

A way of seeing where someone stands in their own story, and what is quietly asking to emerge.

I work especially with therapists and practitioners. Those who know how to hold others, yet rarely find themselves held in the same way. Those who sense that something in their work, and in their life, is asking to shift.

 

This work is for those who are ready to be met, so that what they offer can arise from presence rather than exhaustion, from discernment rather than adaptation.

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I have named this work after Vesta, keeper of the sacred flame, because there is an ancient fire within each of us that never goes out. And at times, it needs to be held until it can burn again and light the way—for ourselves and for others.​

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With love,
Heather