My family moved around a lot when I was little, but there was one thing that anchored me in every new town we arrived in: the library. I felt at home there, wherever we were. Inevitably, I would drift toward the non-fiction shelves.

When I was younger, you’d find me tucked into a corner with a gymnastics book — preferably one featuring Olga Korbut. In my teens, my interests widened. I began seeking out astrology, mythology, philosophy, and anything that hinted at alternative ways of understanding health.

Later, in Totnes, I met my first real-life teacher, Jytindria Bell. She taught me reflexology and, each week after class, kindly gave me a lift home. During those drives we would listen to recordings about Ayurveda. I didn’t fully understand what I was hearing at the time, but something in me recognised it. A small seed was being planted.

About ten years later, I came across the training I had first brushed up against in those car journeys and library corners. Ayurveda — a philosophy, medicinal system, and spiritual framework for the body. This time I began to grasp its depth: movement therapy, herbal medicine, understanding individual constitution, sacred anatomy with its energy channels and chakras, five-element diagnosis, cleansing therapies, oiling rituals, acupressure massage, and daily and seasonal rhythms — all grounded in thousands of years of practice.

Now it wasn’t just a voice on a tape or a passing reference in a book. It was a full course of study. And I knew, with a clarity that surprised me, that this was what I wanted. I enrolled on the three-year, full-time BA in Ayurvedic Studies at Thames Valley University in London.