Fiona Swinburne Acupuncture

11/11/2025

Wild hearts 🖤 If you awake in the morning to ALL of the thoughts, especially the doom inducing kind, give yourself a chance to rise, make some tea and begin again. Don’t let the doom pin you down.

If you work with me, you know this is top tier advice 👌🏼

BUT FIRST MAKE TEA by .godden from With Love, Grief and Fury.

Please like, save or share with anyone who may need a little restart for their day. And definitely buy this book. Wow!

Thank you to C for such a thoughtful gift. ✨🫶🏻

23/10/2025

Wild hearts - stay open to Joy ✨

I was just sitting waiting for my last client of the day to show up and as you all know, it’s been a bit of a time lately.

I noticed Nick Mulvey was going live to play a track from Dark Harvest Part 2 and then he only went and gave my work a little shout-out on Instagram.

Celebrate with me! A lovely little reminder that joy can find its way in, even through the cracks.

Celebrating those moments makes the joyful ones even more joyful - a lovely ripple effect of joy.

Stay open to joy

23/10/2025

21/10/2025

Some experiences challenge everything we think we can handle, and yet, within them, we often find unexpected strength, deep connection, and lasting gifts.

Four weeks ago, my father died — at home, just as he wished. He wanted his daughters to carry his coffin. He always told anyone who would listen, “My daughters can do anything any man can.” And above all, he wished for his family to remain united.

Honouring those wishes became one of the hardest and most meaningful experiences of my life. My sisters and I carried Dad home for his wake, into and out of the chapel, up the stairs and into the crematorium - supported by our uncle and cousin.

I had never seen mostly women carry a coffin before. The quiet expectation was that men would take on this role. But we knew what Dad wanted, and we moved forward, step by step, with love, determination and strength. In doing so, we fulfilled his wish and uncovered a deeper truth about ourselves - that we are always capable of so much more than we believed. It was one of the greatest reminders he left me.

In those moments, as I felt the weight of his body I could feel the echo of his faith in us. My sisters beside me, arms linked, holding the weight together, united, dissolving what had gone before. My sons watching on - it was sacred work.

These months have taken me far beyond what I thought I could bear. Fear, exhaustion and grief stripped me back to the rawest parts of myself. And yet, in walking through what felt impossible, I found strength, clarity, and a deep sense of knowing.

My father’s death taught me that the hardest things can become the most meaningful. When we meet death - and life - with our eyes, minds and hearts open, something ancient stirs. Ritual and ceremony help us honour, feel and heal in ways that words alone cannot.

There is pride in having carried him. Pride in standing shoulder to shoulder with my sisters. Pride in knowing my sons saw their mother do something that mattered deeply. And there is peace - knowing that in fulfilling his wishes, we remember our own quiet courage.

05/10/2025

There are times in life when the familiar begins to dissolve; work, identity, relationships, or a way of being that once felt steady. These moments can feel like loss, but in Taoist understanding, they are simply part of the natural turning of life’s seasons.

My work offers a place to rest within that turning - to listen, soften, and find your way home to yourself.

I support people through life’s transitions - the thresholds between endings and beginnings. Using body-based awareness, nature connection, reflective dialogue, and Taoist-inspired practices that help you move with, rather than against, change.

Together, we explore what it means to live in alignment with your true nature, even amidst uncertainty.

If you’re navigating a time of unraveling or renewal, and would like a space that honours both your humanity and your unfolding, you’re warmly invited to reach out for online or in person sessions.

We’ll go gently, and let the way reveal itself.

What if change isn’t something to survive, but something to listen to?

Please feel free to tag or share on your story or with anyone who may be in a transition.

Love
Fiona
X

29/07/2025

Wild hearts - I’m wrapping up for the summer in my last clinic day until September.

In between the fullness of holding others today, I found a moment to return to myself. A quiet pause, a time to let the day exhale. Chamomile called me to sit with her and I listened.

Bought at Dilston, tended by one of my sons, this soft medicine felt like both invitation and remembering.

We’ve begun, at last, to grow our own physic garden. A long-held vision finally taking root. Chamomile, valerian, Chinese mugwort… gentle allies, alongside familiar kitchen herbs.

What I’ve always known — and continue to remember — is that it’s often the quietest of medicines that speak the deepest truths. These are not the plants that shout or shake. They don’t demand. They don’t pull you into the underworld. Instead, they ask for presence. They ask for patience. They ask you to come closer.

They require you to lean in. Listen. Not with your ears but with your whole being.

These quiet medicines shift something subtle in the system. They don’t perform. They don’t promise. Yet over time, with care, with consistency, they bring you back, to your breath, to body, to earth.

They move at the pace of nature. At the pace of healing. At the pace of trust.
There’s no rush here.
Just tending.
Just returning.
Just remembering what it is to be in relationship with something older, wiser, and infinitely gentle.

Can you let it be enough?
Can you trust what unfolds when you stop striving?
Can you work with a medicine that doesn’t push, but waits?
Can you stay long enough to hear what the soft ones are whispering?

These tame plants, so often overlooked, so widely known — are waiting to walk beside you. Not to carry you, not to rescue you, but to companion you back to a rhythm that holds.

Will you let them? Will you lean in? Will you wait long enough to feel what they are offering?

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