What this is: A medically-informed, deeply human exploration of how chronic stress and anxiety can damage your body, brain, and future—and what you can actually do about it before the damage becomes irreversible.
What this isn’t: Another guilt-inducing wellness sermon telling you to “just breathe” or download a meditation app whilst your company burns and your inbox explodes.
Read this if: You’ve noticed your body keeping score (mysterious aches, erratic sleep, a immune system that’s clearly resigned from its post), you suspect your “high-functioning anxiety” might be a polite term for something more serious, or you’re exhausted from being exhausted.
Five Key Takeaways for the Relentlessly Driven
- Your stress response wasn’t designed for quarterly reports: Your ancient fight-or-flight system treats Monday morning emails like sabre-toothed tigers, flooding your body with cortisol that was meant to save your life for ten minutes, not poison it for ten years.
- The “successful stress carrier” is a medical myth: That romantic notion of thriving under pressure? Research shows chronic stress and anxiety actively shrink your hippocampus, age your cells faster, and increase your risk of heart disease, stroke, diabetes, and autoimmune conditions by 40-60%.
- Your body whispers before it screams: Tension headaches, digestive chaos, and that 3 a.m. wide-awake-worry sessions aren’t personality quirks—they’re early warning systems that something fundamental needs recalibrating.
- Stress management techniques aren’t self-care fluff: They’re evidence-based interventions with measurable impact on inflammatory markers, telomere length, and disease progression—as powerful as many medications, but without the side effects.
- You can’t think your way out of a nervous system problem: Cognitive strategies help, but chronic stress reduction requires embodied practices that signal safety to your autonomic nervous system—movement, connection, nature, and nervous system regulation techniques that work below the level of conscious thought.
Reaching Your Breaking Point
Here’s the uncomfortable truth your last performance review didn’t mention: your body cannot distinguish between a genuine threat to your survival and a passive-aggressive email from your board chair.
The stress response—that magnificent evolutionary inheritance that once helped your ancestors outrun predators—activates identically whether you’re facing a lion or a looming deadline. Your heart races. Your muscles tense. Cortisol floods your bloodstream. Blood diverts from your digestive system to your limbs. Your immune function temporarily suspends operations.
Brilliant design for a ten-minute crisis. Catastrophic design for a ten-year career.
Yet here you are: navigating restructures, managing difficult personalities, making decisions that affect hundreds of lives, responding to crises that genuinely matter—all whilst your primitive nervous system mistakes your admirable dedication for mortal danger.
And the question that likely brought you here, the one you’ve been pushing aside between meetings, finally demands an answer: Is my stress and anxiety actually damaging my long-term health?
The short answer, delivered with twenty years of medical experience and the evidence base to support it: Yes. Absolutely. And probably more than you think.
But—and here’s where it gets interesting—you’re asking the question. Which means you’re already halfway toward the most important health intervention of your professional life.
Amanda’s Story: Success’ Bitter After-Taste
Amanda Payne could tell you the exact moment her body started keeping different books than her brain.
It was 4:47 a.m. on a Wednesday in March, and she woke with her heart battering against her ribs like something caged and furious. The bedroom was dark, the duvet heavy, her husband’s breathing steady beside her. Nothing was wrong. Everything was wrong.
Her mouth tasted like rusted metal. Her jaw ached from clenching. When she pressed her fingers to her neck, her pulse felt like someone frantically knocking on a door that wouldn’t open.
Amanda was 43, the CEO of a mid-sized tech consultancy she’d built from nothing over fifteen years. Brilliant at her work. Devoted to her team of 120 people who depended on her decisions. Recently promoted to the board of a national industry association. Mother to two teenagers who still, occasionally, needed her.
She was also, though she wouldn’t have used these words yet, drowning.
The panic attacks—because that’s what they were, though she’d been calling them “stress reactions”—had started six months earlier. First monthly, then weekly, now almost nightly. She’d scheduled a doctor’s appointment three times and cancelled three times because something urgent always erupted. Because she was fine. Because she could handle this.
The morning routine had become archaeological: excavating herself from anxiety’s layers. Shower hot enough to hurt, hoping to reset her nervous system. Coffee strong enough to override the trembling. Concealer thick enough to hide the shadows that had taken up permanent residence beneath her eyes.
She caught her reflection whilst brushing her teeth—electric toothbrush buzzing, mint sharpness in her mouth—and barely recognised the woman staring back. When had her face become so thin? When had those lines carved themselves beside her mouth?
Amanda had always prided herself on her capacity. She could hold complexity, manage crises, make decisions under pressure. She was the person others turned to when things fell apart. Strong. Reliable. Unflappable.
Except her hands were flapping now—trembling, actually—as she tried to fasten the tiny buttons of her blouse. The fabric felt wrong against her skin, everything felt wrong, the house too quiet and too loud simultaneously, the smell of coffee suddenly nauseating.
She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the mattress exhaling beneath her weight.
“Amanda?” Her husband’s voice, thick with sleep and worry. “Again?”
She nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in her throat. His hand found her back, warm through the silk blouse, and she wanted to lean into it but couldn’t let herself soften. If she softened, she might break entirely.
The commute to the office felt like travelling through fog. Her chest remained tight, her breathing shallow. Twice, she had to pull over because her heart’s hammering made her feel certain she was dying.
Both times, after ten minutes, her heart settled. Both times, she told herself to stop being ridiculous.
The morning meeting—glass-walled conference room, the bitter tang of too much coffee, voices presenting problems she was meant to solve—blurred past. She took notes. Asked questions. Made decisions. All whilst her body screamed that something was terribly, urgently wrong.
Nobody noticed. She was very good at this—the performance of competence whilst her autonomic nervous system staged a coup.
But her body was noticing. Tracking. Recording.
The tension headaches that arrived at 2 p.m. daily like unwanted appointments. The digestive system that had apparently decided solid food was negotiable. The sleep that came in shallow, anxious snatches between 3 a.m. worry sessions. The immune system that seemed to have abandoned its post—her third cold in as many months.
Amanda had started keeping antacids in every bag, ibuprofen in every drawer. She’d normalised functioning through discomfort, pushing past signals that used to mean something.
And then came the moment that changed everything.
A routine physical—the one she’d finally kept—revealed blood pressure that made her doctor’s eyebrows rise. Inflammatory markers elevated. Cortisol levels, as her GP put it with careful gentleness, “chronically dysregulated.” Early signs of what could become serious cardiovascular risk.
“Amanda,” her doctor said, leaning forward with the particular expression doctors reserve for delivering difficult truths, “your body is working so hard to keep you functional that it’s beginning to break down the infrastructure. This level of chronic stress and anxiety isn’t sustainable. Not for months. Certainly not for years.”
She sat in the surgery car park afterwards, engine off, hands gripping the steering wheel, and finally let herself feel the full weight of what she’d been carrying. The fear she’d been outrunning. The truth her body had been trying to tell her in every language it knew.
She wasn’t managing the stress and anxiety. The stress and anxiety were managing her.
And something fundamental needed to change—not next quarter, not after the next big project, but now, before her body’s whisper became a scream she couldn’t ignore.
The Neuroscience of What’s Actually Happening Inside You
Let’s talk about what chronic stress and anxiety are doing to the remarkable machinery of your body.
Your stress response, the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis, is a brilliant short-term survival system. When activated, it mobilises every resource toward immediate action: cortisol surges, glucose floods your bloodstream for quick energy, your heart rate and blood pressure spike, your immune system temporarily downregulates (because fighting infections is irrelevant if you’re about to be eaten).
Perfect for escaping predators. Devastating when activated forty times daily for eighteen months straight.
Here’s what the research, and my twenty years working with stress-related illness, reveals about chronic stress and anxiety’s long-term effects:
Cardiovascular consequences: Persistent stress hormones damage your blood vessel walls, promote plaque formation, increase blood pressure, and disrupt heart rhythm. Studies show chronic stress increases heart attack risk by 40% and stroke risk by nearly 50%. Your heart, quite literally, wears out faster under constant pressure.
Immune system suppression: Chronic cortisol exposure suppresses your immune response, making you more susceptible to infections, slowing wound healing, and potentially increasing cancer risk. That “getting sick every month” pattern? Your immune system waving a white flag.
Metabolic disruption: Stress hormones promote insulin resistance, increase appetite for high-calorie foods (your body thinks you’re in famine), encourage abdominal fat storage, and significantly increase Type 2 diabetes risk. The “stress weight” around your middle isn’t vanity—it’s visceral fat that actively produces inflammatory chemicals.
Neurological impact: Chronic stress shrinks your hippocampus (memory centre), enlarges your amygdala (fear centre), and disrupts prefrontal cortex function (decision-making, emotional regulation). You’re not imagining that you can’t think clearly—stress is literally remodelling your brain toward anxiety and away from resilience.
Cellular ageing: Telomeres—the protective caps on your chromosomes—shorten faster under chronic stress, effectively ageing your cells more rapidly. You’re wearing out faster at the molecular level.
Gastrointestinal chaos: The gut-brain axis means your digestive system serves as a stress barometer. Chronic stress and anxiety alter gut bacteria composition, increase inflammation, and contribute to IBS, inflammatory bowel disease, and other digestive disorders.
But here’s what matters more than the frightening list: these processes aren’t inevitable. They’re reversible, especially when caught relatively early.
This is where my work over fifteen years hosting stress management retreats on the Camino de Santiago and developing burnout recovery programmes becomes relevant. I’ve witnessed hundreds of high-achieving professionals—people very much like you—interrupt these destructive patterns and rebuild their health from the inside out.
The magic isn’t in the single intervention. It’s in the layered approach: nervous system regulation techniques, embodied stress reduction practices, connection and community, movement in nature, and the often-overlooked power of storytelling to metabolise difficult experiences.
I’ve seen how trauma-informed, body-based interventions can recalibrate a dysregulated stress response faster than cognitive strategies alone. Your nervous system needs proof of safety, not just thoughts about safety.
And this isn’t merely clinical observation—it’s evidenced in the thirty-plus testimonials from retreat guests who’ve moved from burnout to breakthrough, confirmed by the research on nature-based interventions, mindfulness practices, and somatic therapies for chronic stress reduction.
Lupien SJ, Juster RP, Raymond C, Marin MF. The effects of chronic stress on the human brain: From neurotoxicity, to vulnerability, to opportunity. Front Neuroendocrinol. 2018 Apr;49:91-105.
Mariotti A. The effects of chronic stress on health: new insights into the molecular mechanisms of brain-body communication. Future Sci OA. 2015 Nov 1;1(3):FSO23.
Yaribeygi H, Panahi Y, Sahraei H, Johnston TP, Sahebkar A. The impact of stress on body function: A review. EXCLI J. 2017 Jul 21;16:1057-1072.
The Ripple Effect: How Your Stress Shapes Your World
Here’s what nobody tells you about healing chronic stress and anxiety: it’s not actually about you.
Yes, your health matters. Your well-being matters. Your right to feel like a human rather than a productivity machine matters enormously.
But when you address the stress and anxiety systematically eroding your health, you don’t just save yourself. You transform your entire ecosystem.
Consider the concentric circles: Your partner stops walking on eggshells, no longer trying to manage your nervous system alongside their own. Your children learn what healthy boundaries look like from observation, not lecture. Your team stops absorbing your unspoken tension and performs better because you’re genuinely present, not performing presence whilst drowning internally.
Your creativity returns—the kind of lateral thinking that solves intractable problems—because your prefrontal cortex isn’t constantly hijacked by survival responses. Your decision-making sharpens. Your emotional regulation improves. You become the leader your organisation actually needs, not just the one who shows up and pushes through.
I’ve written eight books on navigating life’s difficult passages—divorce, loss, unexpected illness, crises—because I’ve learned this truth: the most powerful healing isn’t solitary. It happens in relationship, in community, in the spaces where we dare to be witnessed in our vulnerability and discovered in our resilience.
This is why the storytelling circles I facilitate—sometimes with retreat guests gathered around a fire, sometimes in virtual spaces with participants across continents, always in the gentle presence of my Friesian horses (Twiss, Kashkin, and Zorie) and Falabella ponies (Loki and Lito)—create such profound shifts.
When you speak your truth and watch it land in compassionate witnesses, something fundamental changes. The shame and isolation that amplify stress and anxiety begin to dissolve. You realise you’re not uniquely broken—you’re humanly exhausted by inhuman demands.
And that realisation becomes the foundation for genuine, sustainable change.
Your Action-Oriented Writing Prompt: The Stress Inventory and Strategic Response
Take twenty minutes with this exercise. It’s designed not just for insight, but for immediate action planning.
Part One: The Honest Audit (10 minutes)
Complete these sentences without editing, judgement, or trying to make it sound reasonable:
- The physical signs my body uses to tell me I’m chronically stressed include…
- The situations or people that most reliably activate my stress response are…
- The stress management techniques I claim to use but actually don’t are…
- If I’m brutally honest, I avoid addressing my stress and anxiety because…
- The specific ways my stress impacts the people who depend on me include…
Part Two: The Strategic Intervention Plan (10 minutes)
Now, treating yourself as you would your most valued team member who came to you with this same list, answer:
- Immediate action (this week): What’s one embodied practice I can implement immediately that signals safety to my nervous system? (Examples: morning walk before devices, three minutes of conscious breathing before meetings, eating lunch away from my desk)
- Short-term intervention (this month): What professional support do I need to access? (Examples: GP appointment for baseline health assessment, therapist specialising in stress-related issues, stress management retreat or programme)
- Medium-term restructuring (this quarter): What boundary, responsibility, or expectation needs renegotiating to create sustainable functioning? Be specific about what you’ll say no to, delegate, or redesign.
- Long-term strategy (this year): What fundamental aspect of how I work, live, or relate to stress needs complete reimagining? What would I do if I took my health as seriously as my responsibilities?
- Accountability structure: Who will I share this plan with, and when will I report progress? (If the answer is “nobody,” that’s part of the problem—isolation amplifies stress and anxiety.)
Share this with one trusted person within 48 hours. Tell them you’re taking your health seriously. Ask them to check in with you weekly. Watch how articulating it makes it real.
Further Reading: Five Unexpected Books for the Relentlessly Driven
1. “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel van der Kolk (2014)
Why this matters: Van der Kolk, a trauma researcher, reveals how stress and trauma literally reshape your brain and body—but also provides evidence-based pathways to healing. For high-achievers who need to understand the neuroscience before they’ll commit to the practices, this is essential. It explains why you can’t think your way out of a nervous system problem.
2. “Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle” by Emily Nagoski and Amelia Nagoski (2019)
Why this matters: The Nagoski sisters distinguish brilliantly between stressors (external) and stress (the internal response that must be metabolised). They provide practical, evidence-based strategies specifically for people who’ve been told to “just manage stress better” without being given actual tools. Their focus on completing the stress cycle through embodied practices is revolutionary for cognitive-focused professionals.
3. “Atlas of the Heart” by Brené Brown (2021)
Why this matters: Brown maps 87 emotions with precision, helping you distinguish between stress, anxiety, worry, and overwhelm—each requiring different interventions. For people who’ve reduced their emotional vocabulary to “fine” or “stressed,” this creates the nuanced awareness necessary for targeted healing. You can’t address what you can’t accurately name.
4. “The Comfort Crisis” by Michael Easter (2021)
Why this matters: Easter explores how our relentless comfort-seeking and stress-avoiding paradoxically increase our stress and anxiety. Drawing on evolutionary biology and adventure, he makes a compelling case for strategic discomfort (cold exposure, nature immersion, physical challenge) as nervous system recalibration. Perfect for achievers who respond better to challenge than coddling.
5. “How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy” by Jenny Odell (2019)
Why this matters: Odell, an artist and professor, dismantles the productivity paradigm that drives chronic stress. She offers a radical reframing: your attention is your life, and learning to direct it intentionally rather than reactively is the most important skill for long-term health and flourishing. This isn’t a productivity hack—it’s a philosophical intervention for people whose worth has become fused with their output.
P.S. If you’re hungry for structured, practical guidance, my two-day online course “Road Map to Resilience: From Burnout to Breakthrough” distils twenty years of clinical experience and fifteen years of retreat facilitation into actionable strategies for chronic stress reduction and nervous system regulation. It’s designed specifically for professionals who need evidence-based interventions they can implement immediately whilst navigating demanding careers.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or on the edge of burnout, you need immediate support. The Road Map to Resilience: Burnout to Brilliance online course (with the option of adding coaching sessions) is designed for exactly that: a practical, step-by-step course to help you regain control, rebuild your energy, and find clarity in the chaos. This isn’t a quick fix—it’s about proven strategies to calm your nervous system, shift your mindset, and create sustainable resilience. No need to cope with this on your own—let’s get you back on track.

From the Field: Voices of Transformation
From the Camino: Sarah T., Management Consultant, London
“I arrived at Dr. Montagu’s Camino de Santiago retreat certain I was fine, just ‘a bit run down.’ Three days of walking, mindfulness practices, and the profound gentleness of the storytelling circles—something broke open. Or perhaps broke through. I realised my body had been screaming for two years, and I’d been too busy achieving to listen. The combination of movement, nature, and being truly witnessed in my exhaustion without judgement gave me permission to finally admit I wasn’t managing the stress—it was managing me. Six months later, my blood pressure is normal, I’m sleeping through the night, and I’ve restructured my entire practice around sustainability rather than survival. The horses—particularly Kashkin, who seemed to sense my nervous system better than I did—taught me that presence is more powerful than performance. I return to the experience whenever I feel the old patterns creeping back.”
From the Virtual Storytelling Circle: Jennifer M., Chief Financial Officer, Toronto
“Joining Dr. Montagu’s storytelling circle felt like coming home to a part of myself I’d abandoned years ago. For ninety minutes every fortnight, I’m not the CFO holding it together—I’m simply Jennifer, speaking and being heard without needing to perform competence. The other participants—all high-capacity professionals carrying similar burdens—create a space where vulnerability becomes strength. I’ve shared things in these circles I’ve never told my therapist, partly because there’s no pathology in the listening, just compassionate witnessing. My stress and anxiety haven’t disappeared, but my relationship to them has transformed completely. I’ve learned to metabolise difficult experiences through story rather than storing them as tension in my body. The practice has been more effective for my chronic stress reduction than any pharmaceutical intervention I’ve tried.”
Five Razor-Sharp FAQs
Q: I genuinely don’t have time for stress management techniques. How do I address this if my schedule is already impossible?
A: This question reveals the problem’s core: you’re treating stress management as another task competing for time, rather than the foundation that makes everything else possible. Start microscopically—two minutes of conscious breathing before your first meeting isn’t time you don’t have; it’s time that makes the next hour more effective. Chronic stress reduces your cognitive capacity by up to 50%. The question isn’t whether you have time for stress reduction; it’s whether you can afford not to.
Q: How do I know if my stress and anxiety levels require professional intervention versus self-management?
A: If in doubt, seek professional advice, and certainly if you’re experiencing: persistent physical symptoms (chest pain, chronic digestive issues, unexplained pain), significant sleep disruption, panic attacks, substance use to manage stress, thoughts of self-harm, or if stress is damaging important relationships.
Q: I’ve tried meditation and mindfulness apps, and they don’t work for me. What are the alternatives for chronic stress reduction?
A: Apps fail most high-achievers because they’re trying to impose calm from the top down onto a nervous system screaming from the bottom up. Try embodied approaches instead: vigorous exercise that metabolises stress hormones, cold water exposure that interrupts the stress response, nature immersion that naturally downregulates cortisol, somatic practices that release stored tension, creative expression that processes difficult emotions, or community connection that signals safety. Your nervous system needs physical proof, not just mental concepts. Match the intervention to your physiology.
Q: Can chronic stress actually be reversed, or have I already done permanent damage?
A: The human body is astonishingly resilient. Whilst some stress-related damage (particularly cardiovascular) may not be completely reversible, most physiological stress responses can improve dramatically with sustained intervention. Neuroplasticity means your brain can rebuild neural pathways; inflammatory markers decrease with stress reduction; immune function recovers; even telomere shortening can slow or stabilise. The key is “sustained”—this isn’t a quick fix. But I’ve seen profound health restoration in people who’d been chronically stressed for decades once they committed to systematic change. Your body wants to heal; you simply need to create conditions that allow it.
Q: How do I maintain stress reduction practices when I return to the same high-pressure environment that created the problem?
A: Environment modification is crucial, but it’s not the whole answer. Yes, advocate for systemic changes—reasonable workloads, clear boundaries, organisational culture shifts. But simultaneously, build stress resilience like you’d build any other critical capacity: through consistent practice, community accountability, and integration into your identity rather than your to-do list. The professionals who sustain change treat stress management like brushing teeth—non-negotiable daily hygiene, not optional self-care. They also build regular immersive experiences (retreats, courses, intensive workshops) that recalibrate their baseline when daily practices aren’t sufficient. Think of it as preventive maintenance rather than crisis intervention.
Conclusion: The Health Risk You Cannot Afford to Ignore
Here’s what I know after two decades of sitting with brilliant, exhausted professionals in crisis: you didn’t arrive at burnout and chronic stress through weakness. You arrived through strength applied in the wrong direction for too long.
Your capacity for endurance, your tolerance for discomfort, your ability to push through—these are genuine strengths. But like any strength overused, they’ve become your vulnerability.
The question isn’t whether your stress and anxiety are harming your long-term health. The evidence is clear: they are. The inflammatory markers, the cardiovascular risks, the accelerated cellular aging, the immune suppression—these aren’t theoretical. They’re measurable, progressive, and potentially irreversible if ignored long enough.
But the more important question—the one your body is asking with every tension headache, every sleepless night, every moment your heart races without reason—is this: What becomes possible when you finally take your health as seriously as your responsibilities?
When you treat stress reduction not as self-indulgence but as a strategic necessity?
When you recognise that sustainable excellence requires a sustainably healthy human at its centre?
Your body has been keeping score, whispering warnings you’ve been too busy to hear. But whispers can become conversations. Conversations can become transformations. And transformations—the deep, embodied kind that reset your nervous system and rebuild your resilience—can become the foundation for a genuinely sustainable life.
Not perfect. Not stress-free. But fundamentally viable in the long term.
You didn’t start reading this article accidentally. Some part of you—the wise part that exists below your achieving, performing, pushing-through self—knows something needs to change.
Trust that knowing. It might just save your life.
An Invitation to The Camino Crossroads Retreat
Imagine this: standing at dawn on an ancient pilgrim path in the gentle hills of south-west France, mist rising from wildflower meadows, your breath steady and deep for the first time in months. No agenda but the path itself. No performance required. Just walking, breathing, becoming.
My Camino de Santiago walking retreat isn’t a holiday from your stress—it’s a comprehensive intervention in how stress lives in your body and shapes your life.
Over several days of gentle walking on this UNESCO World Heritage trail, we layer proven stress management techniques into the natural rhythm of pilgrimage: daily mindfulness and meditation practices that train your nervous system toward regulation rather than reaction; somatic exercises that release years of stored tension from your tissues; and the transformative power of storytelling circles where you metabolise difficult experiences in compassionate community.
The walks themselves, through sunlit forests, past 12th-century chapels, across rolling countryside, provide what research confirms: nature immersion naturally reduces cortisol, lowers blood pressure, and restores depleted attentional resources. But the magic happens in the spaces between the walking.
In my storytelling circles, facilitated by my Friesian horses, something remarkable unfolds. These extraordinary creatures—with their attunement to nervous system states we haven’t yet learned to consciously recognise—create a presence that invites profound authenticity. In their gentle witness, guests find permission to speak truths they’ve been carrying alone, to be seen in their exhaustion without judgement, to discover they’re not uniquely broken but humanly overwhelmed.
The retreat combines the evidence-based practices I’ve refined through twenty years of medical practice with the embodied wisdom I’ve developed through fifteen years of hosting these transformative experiences. You’ll learn practical chronic stress reduction techniques you can integrate immediately into your demanding life—but more importantly, you’ll experience what nervous system recalibration actually feels like in your body.
Small groups (maximum four guests) ensure genuine connection and individualised attention. Comfortable accommodation provides sanctuary. Delicious local food becomes part of the healing. And the pace—deliberately slower than your ordinary life—teaches your nervous system what “safe” actually feels like, creating a new baseline you can return to when stress threatens to overwhelm.
This isn’t escape. It’s strategic intervention for professionals who’ve been running on fumes and calling it fuel. It’s permission to take your health seriously before your body makes that decision for you.
The path awaits. So does the version of yourself you’ve been too busy to become.
Dr. Margaretha Montagu (MBChB, MRCGP) is a physician, NLP master practitioner, medical hypnotherapist, and life transition coach with two decades of experience supporting professionals through stress-inducing life changes and challenges and burnout recovery. She is the author of eight books on navigating life’s difficult passages and hosts transformative stress management retreats on the Camino de Santiago in south-west France.

10 Powerful Life Lessons Learned While Walking the Camino de Santiago – a free guide filled with 10 not just “quaint anecdotes” or Instagram-worthy moments (though there are plenty of those) but real transformations from real people who walked the same insight-giving trail you might want to walk one day – Subscribe to my monthly newsletter to Download the Guide


















