Before I ever sat in ceremony, I spent two decades building businesses, leading teams, and chasing a version of success that nearly broke me. The path from there to here — from co-founding a £16 million software consultancy to holding space for thousands in the hills of Mallorca — is the reason I do this work. Not because I read about transformation in a book, but because I lived it.
Inside the ceremony space — our farmhouse retreat centre in Mallorca, where we hosted over 2,500 guests across three years.
Nine years ago, after my first nine ceremonies — just before we expanded the retreat centre.
After nine ceremonies — sharing my experience and how this path began.
I started my career in technology and entrepreneurship in the 1990s, co-founding a series of businesses — the largest a £16 million software consultancy. I worked at C-suite level, managed cross-cultural teams across Europe and Asia, and by any external measure, I was successful. At the peak, the business was generating over a million pounds a month.
Success without alignment is a particular kind of prison.
The more I achieved, the more disconnected I became — from my body, from any sense of meaning, from the people around me. I was running on adrenaline and ambition, and it was hollowing me out.
In 2000, I began training in Neuro-Linguistic Programming — partly to become a better leader, partly because I sensed there were patterns running my life that I couldn't see. Over the next three years I completed my NLP Master Practitioner certification and the NLP practitioner training.
It changed how I understood the mind. I began working as a coach and phobia therapist, discovering I had a genuine gift for helping people shift patterns rapidly. My phobia therapy work eventually reached a 90% success rate — people who had been stuck for years, freed in a single session. I realised that the most powerful work happens not through endless analysis, but through precise, embodied interventions that interrupt old wiring and install something new.
The most powerful work happens not through endless analysis, but through precise, embodied interventions that interrupt old wiring.
Despite the tools I had, there came a point where NLP alone couldn't reach what was buried deepest. I hit a wall that no cognitive reframe could touch — a darkness that took me to the very edge. It was plant medicine that reached me when nothing else could.
My first Ayahuasca ceremony cracked open something I'd spent decades protecting. And for the first time, I didn't just understand my patterns intellectually — I felt them in my body, saw their roots, and began the process of genuinely releasing them.
By my fourth ceremony, I knew. This wasn't something I was going to dabble in and move on. It was a calling — clear, unmistakable, and urgent. Not to become a shaman. But to create a space where this work could happen.
My wife Lynette and I opened a retreat centre at our family farmhouse in the heart of Mallorca. I created the space — and the shamans came. Experienced practitioners who felt the intention behind what we were building and wanted to be part of it. For three years, we hosted ceremonies together, welcoming over 2,500 guests from around the world.
I wasn't just holding space — I was sitting in ceremony alongside our guests, doing my own work in the same room. Every ceremony I facilitated, I also participated in. Over a hundred ceremonies, not as an observer, but as someone still being cracked open by the medicine. That dual perspective — both practitioner and participant — is something I carry into every session I offer today.
I created the space — and the shamans came. I wasn't just holding space. I was sitting in ceremony alongside our guests, doing my own work in the same room.
After Mallorca, I moved to Bali — and the journey kept deepening. Breathwork became a central part of my own integration practice, a way of processing what ceremony continued to surface and grounding it in the body. I trained formally, and it became one of the most powerful tools I now offer clients.
It was also in Bali that I began sitting with psilocybin mushrooms, adding another dimension to the work. Different medicine, different teachings — but the same commitment to showing up, going in, and letting the process do what it needs to do.
Today I sit in ceremony regularly, maintain a daily meditation practice, and work with clients worldwide. My approach weaves together everything the journey has taught me: the precision of NLP, the rapid-release power of phobia therapy, the embodied grounding of breathwork, and the deep wisdom that only comes from sitting with the medicine again and again and again.
I don't work from theory. I work from lived experience — and from the ongoing willingness to keep doing my own work. The medicine is not something I did once and now teach about. It is a living practice, one that continues to humble and teach me.
This is the phrase I come back to — in ceremony, in meditation, in the hard moments and the beautiful ones. It's a commitment to presence. Not resistance. Not grasping. Just meeting what arrives with openness, curiosity, and the willingness to be changed by it. It's what I practise, and it's what I help my clients practise too.
During our years in Mallorca, we filmed conversations with guests about their experiences. These are their words, unscripted and unfiltered.