In Egypt, we arrive at Isis' Temple of Philae by boat in darkness.

Candlelight in the sanctuary of Isis. The red granite altar where priestesses once stood. In the heart of her temple, I ask why I can no longer feel her the way I once did: and the answer unsettles me more than I expect.

From there, the journey moves through Karnak and into the temple of Osiris, where something shifts. What began fourteen years ago as a healing of the feminine starts to bend in a direction I didn’t anticipate. The gods I’ve avoided. The questions I’ve postponed. The balance I’ve refused to examine.

From sacred island to desert temple, the work continues.

And not all of it is comfortable.

I arrive in England on Samhain, moving through ancestral land under the quiet presence of Brigid - goddess of springs, wells, and poets. Driving the British countryside alone, grief, music, and memory start to bleed into one another in ways I didn’t plan for.

In Leominster and Birmingham, I walk through churches, graveyards, and old family ground. Some places open. Others don’t. What I’m looking for doesn’t arrive as answers, but as physical sensations - pull, resistance, familiarity, and distance - leaving me unsure what, if anything, I’m meant to take with me.

From there, the journey continues into Egypt. Dawn entry to the Great Pyramid. Ritual. The new Egyptian Museum. An unexpected confrontation with Osiris that challenges everything I thought I knew about which gods I work with - and why.

Where England feels distant and fragmented, Egypt presses close, insistent and alive.

This episode sits inside the movement between those worlds. Ancestry and initiation, history and living current: and the uneasy question of where belonging is actually forged.

In Greece this year, while walking the ruins of the Eleusinian Mysteries, I found myself circling one question: what does it mean to belong when you’ve been disconnected from everything that once gave your life shape?

In this episode, I go looking for answers in the place most of us avoid: my own bloodline. While the family legends I grew up with held some truth, they weren't the full story, and what I uncovered through ancestry was the first time I’d ever seen myself reflected in someone from my family.

After the last eighteen months - losing my father, stepping away from the family I grew up in, facing mortality head-on - I’m beginning to understand why belonging feels different now. Why it feels urgent. Why it feels haunted.

This episode is the beginning of a deeper search and leads me to a journey I had no idea I was about to go on ...

When the Goddess Isis first appeared in my life, she came in her role as the great mother goddess. She taught me what it meant to love unconditionally and with boundaries.

In this episode, I trace that lesson through two decades of business, betrayal, and loss: from finding my first mentor and building a multimillion-dollar company with my partner, to hiring my family, surviving public meltdowns, and realising that money doesn’t heal generational wounds.

When I returned to Egypt with my clients in 2018, everything unravelled — my family's volatility, losing my people, and the collapse of what “family” meant. Through grief, death, and the ache of estrangement, I found myself asking: what happens when the people who were meant to love you are the ones whose love costs you your peace?

When my Dad died last year, it lead to a series of events that ended with me becoming estranged from my entire family. Over the last 12 months, I've been reflecting a lot - on my life, on grief and death, and on what it means to belong, when it feels like almost everything that defined who you were, is ripped away.

One of my earliest memories is asking my mum if I was adopted ... and hoping the answer was yes. Feeling different from my family, bullied at school, and raised by 70s New Agers, I found my first Witch book at the age of 7 and never looked back.

In this opening episode of Untethered, I trace the roots of my witchcraft and a question that has always haunted me: what does it mean to belong? From mind-reading classes and ouija boards to ancestor worship and land magic, I explore how colonial ancestry and family trauma have shaped my relationship to spirit, power, and place.