I’m Katy — an American transplanted to the beautiful hills of Mid Wales, where I live with my husband, our two boys, our spirited dog Scout, two cats, and a lively bunny. It’s quite the joyful zoo around here!
My background is in social work, and I am trained in EMDR. I prioritise trauma-informed and anti-racist practices that seek liberation and healing for all. These commitments deeply shape how I walk alongside others in spiritual direction.
I come from a Christian tradition, though my faith is expansive and evolving. I often find myself with more questions than answers — and I believe that’s a sacred place to be.
I am neurodivergent myself, and this shapes how I understand the spiritual journey: as one that embraces the whole person, not just tidy ideas or neat stories. I create a trauma-informed, queer-affirming, and neurodivergent-friendly space where you can bring your unmasked self, your sensory needs, your doubts, and your hopes without fear of judgment or pressure.
I am also a carer myself, and I understand the particular challenges and joys of holding space for others while trying to nurture your own soul. Spiritual direction can be a place for you to breathe, rest, and reconnect with your own spirit and notice the Divine’s presence in your life.
Embodiment is central to my practice. I offer gentle grounding exercises, body check-ins, and sometimes poetry as a way to enter the sacred space beyond words. I am comfortable with silence — knowing it can hold healing and reveal hidden wisdom.
Outside of spiritual direction, you’ll often find me wandering between the trees on a local trail, sipping a cup of herbal tea, or curled up with a good book (usually poetry or something delightfully quirky). I’m passionate about creating spaces where messiness is not only welcome but celebrated — because life is rarely neat, and that’s part of the beauty.
Spiritual direction with me is companionship through the mystery, a holding space for all that you bring — the light, the shadows, and everything in between. I’m here not to fix or advise but to listen deeply and walk with you in the sacred wilderness of your faith.
Why Between the Trees?
The name Between the Trees holds deep meaning for me. It speaks to the threshold spaces we often find ourselves in — the tender, uncertain in-between of what has been and what is yet to come. It’s the pause before the next step, the place where we are invited to look back and look forward, to let go and imagine, to be held gently as we wait and wonder.
For me, the image of standing between two trees became a symbol of that liminal space — rooted, protected, and spacious. A place where there is safety to explore, to feel, to rest, to ask questions that don’t always have easy answers. It’s where we meet the sacred in quiet, earthy ways.
There’s also a deeper resonance. Trees across the world are interconnected beneath the surface through vast networks — communicating, nourishing, holding one another in quiet companionship. This reminds me that our healing is never only our own.
My liberation is tied up with yours. Spiritual direction, for me, is about holding space for your story while honouring our interdependence — that we grow best when we grow together.
And finally, Between the Trees is a nod to the wild places that have always felt like sanctuary to me. When other spaces felt too sharp, the woods welcomed me. In nature, I’ve found a quiet kind of freedom — permission to take up space, to breathe, to belong. It’s this sense of sacred hospitality I hope to offer you, too.