Trauma lingers in the body, the brain, and in the quiet moments when everything can feel so loud.
Demons come in the dark because there is no noise to keep them at bay.
As a former police officer, I have felt the impact firsthand.
One of the hardest moments of my career was responding to the sudden, unexpected death of an infant (SUDI).
It’s something I’ll never forget. And something that shaped the way I now help others.
Many of us carry experiences we didn’t choose. Events that shook us.
But neuroscience offers hope and shows us that healing is possible.
Here are a few science-backed actions that can help reduce the emotional toll of past trauma:
🧠 Name it to tame it - Labelling emotions activates the prefrontal cortex, helping regulate the amygdala’s fear response. Simply saying “I feel overwhelmed” can begin to calm the brain.
🫁 Breathe intentionally - Slow, deep breathing, especially exhaling for longer than you inhale, engages the parasympathetic nervous system, reducing stress and anxiety.
🚶♂️ Move your body - Physical activity helps remove stress hormones and stimulates brain regions involved in mood regulation. Even a short walk can make a significant difference.
🗣️ Talk it through - Sharing your story with someone safe rewires neural pathways. It helps shift traumatic memories from emotional centres to logical ones, reducing their grip.
🧘♀️ Practice mindfulness - Mindfulness strengthens the brain’s ability to stay present, reducing rumination and emotional reactivity.
💬 Seek support - You don’t have to do it alone. Whether through peer support, therapy, or workshops. Connection is key.
If you’re carrying something heavy, know this: there is a way forward. And it starts with one small step.
Breathe long and slow, then move, and always seek support.
Let’s talk!
The Power Of Forgiveness
We often think of forgiveness as something we offer to others - and yes, letting go of resentment can be liberating.
But during my Diploma in Positive Psychology & Wellbeing, I came to understand the power of self-forgiveness.
We carry so much with us – regret, guilt, shame, and we replay moments we wish we could change.
But here's the truth: you can’t be at your best while holding yourself hostage to the past.
Recently, I was berated by a former colleague, under the guise of a ‘robust discussion’, for something I had said in the media.
His words cut deep, it was a personal attack. And while I could see that he was hurting (and as we know, hurting people hurt people), it didn’t make the experience any less painful.
It took me a while to process what had happened - weeks, in fact. Weeks of berating myself.
But in that reflection, I came back to this: forgiveness is not about excusing behaviour; it is freeing ourselves from the weight of it.
I chose to forgive him. Not because what he said was okay, but because I didn’t want to carry his pain as my own.
And then came the harder part: forgiving myself. For doubting my worth. For replaying the moment over and over. For letting someone else’s words shake my confidence.
Self-forgiveness is often the most difficult kind. But it’s also the most powerful. It’s how we reclaim our peace.
So, I ask you:
• Who are you still holding in your heart with resentment?
• What part of yourself are you still punishing?
• What would it feel like to let go?
It is what it is because it was what it was; it is what you do now that matters. A simple reminder I have tattooed on my chest, I should read it more often.
Through this exercise for my diploma and in my work with those who face their own daily challenges, I’ve seen how forgiveness has a massive influence on our wellbeing.
In my own life, it has helped me move forward with compassion, for others and for myself.
Let’s talk!
Thank You To Volunteer Firefighters.
It’s 2 a.m. The pager goes off. You’re out the door before your mind catches up.
You leave behind a warm bed, a family, a job, a life.
You step into uncertainty, into danger, into someone else’s worst day.
Being a volunteer firefighter means showing up, often for strangers, for your community.
It’s holding a hand in the wreckage of a horrific crash, listening to silence after the sirens fade, and carrying the weight of what you’ve seen long after the smoke clears.
There’s no pay cheque. No spotlight.
In New Zealand, volunteer firefighters are now being asked to do more than many ever signed up for - responding to medical incidents, including the unimaginable loss of children.
These moments leave a mark that can’t be seen but is felt deeply. There are no wounds to see, no visible scars, only scars that are hidden deep inside.
Yet, those scars take a toll. On the firefighter. On their colleagues. And eventually on their family.
That’s why we offer free workshops to volunteer brigades wherever I travel, helping them cope with what they’re now required to see and do.
The bravery must continue after the emergency, having the strength to talk about what happens afterwards.
To every volunteer who puts on the gear and answers the call, thank you.
You remind us of what courage looks like.
Let’s talk!
It is Important to Act, Not to React!
When things go wrong, we’re often told to “look on the bright side” or “find the silver lining.”
While optimism has its place, it’s not always the most helpful response in the immediate moment.
In some moments, focusing on what we can control is more helpful than trying to stay positive.
Neuroscience shows that when we feel out of control, our brain’s threat system activates.
The amygdala takes over, flooding us with stress hormones and narrowing our thinking.
But when we shift our attention to what is within our control, we begin to calm the nervous system and re-engage the prefrontal cortex for rational thinking.
The biggest thing we can control? Ourselves.
• Our breathing
• Our thoughts
• Our actions
• Our response to what’s happening around us
In the heat of the moment, it’s important to act and not react, as reacting will only add to our feeling of being out of control.
When life knocks us off course, the ability to pause, reset, and respond intentionally can make all the difference.
Let’s talk!
The Fragility of Life!
The Fragility of Life – A Reflection from 22 Years on the Front Line
For 22 years, I served in the New Zealand Police.
As the lead crisis negotiator, I was often called to the darkest moments of people’s lives.
Moments when hope was slipping, when silence screamed louder than words, when you could feel the emotions, when life hung in a delicate balance.
I have stood in rooms heavy with grief, spoken to voices trembling on the edge and witnessed the rawness of human emotion in its purest form.
I have seen lives change in an instant, fortunately it was always for the better.
And through it all, I carried my own silent battles with depression.
I wore the uniform, but beneath it was a person learning to navigate his own storms, a frightened ever-present inner- child screaming for help.
Just lately, I find myself tearing up more often. Sometimes I cry.
Not out of sadness, because something stirs deep within me.
These tears are not weakness. They are proof that I am alive. That I feel. That I care. That I am here.
The years in service taught me that life is precious, fleeting, and unpredictable.
They taught me to listen. Not just to words, but to silence.
They taught me that strength is found in vulnerability.
Today, I use what I’ve learned to help others - volunteer firefighters, people labelled with a diagnosis, and those who feel unseen.
If my journey can help even one person feel less alone, then every tear, every sleepless night, and every moment of doubt was worth it.
Life is fragile. But in that fragility lies its beauty.
Let’s talk!