Lynn Butler Holistic Practitioner

There is something about September, isn’t there?

Maybe it’s years of that back-to-school feeling being woven into us, or perhaps it’s simply the change in the light and the first hint that summer is beginning to soften around the edges.

Whatever it is, September has always felt a little bit like another New Year to me.

Not in a reinvent your entire life by Monday kind of way. You know me better than that.

More an opportunity to take stock. To notice where you are, how you’re feeling and what you might need as we move into the final few months of the year.

The September Reset is back.

Three sessions, booked and paid for together now, with three intentional points in your diary between 1 September and 17 December that already have your name on them.

Because life has a wonderful habit of filling every empty space we give it, doesn’t it?

And perhaps this time, instead of waiting until you’re exhausted, overwhelmed or wondering where you disappeared to amongst everything else, you could decide now to make a little room for yourself along the way.

There are three ways to choose your reset:

Mini Reset — 3 × 30 minutes
Little pockets of regular support to check in, reset and come back to yourself.

Balanced — 3 × 60 minutes
Space to exhale, unwind and allow your nervous system to settle.

Deep — 3 × 90 minutes
More spacious, intuitive support across mind, body, heart and soul.

Your sessions can include reflexology, facial reflexology, energy healing, conversation, quiet, grounding and whatever support feels right for you when you arrive.

Because what you need in September may be completely different to what you need in December.

We meet you where you are.

The September Reset is available to purchase until 31 August, or until the available packages have gone.

September doesn’t have to mean climbing straight back onto the hamster wheel and racing towards Christmas.

Perhaps it can simply mean coming back to yourself.

If you’ve been thinking, I could really do with seeing Lynn again…

perhaps this is your nudge.

https://www.lynnbutler.me/september

It's back - The monthly gifted session!

A few years ago, I used to gift a session every month, and it feels like the right time to bring that back.

There's no application to complete, no story to tell, and no reason you need to give for why you deserve it — simply because I'd love to.

Each month I'll be gifting a complimentary 60-minute session, either in person here in Sheffield or online. Together we'll choose what feels most supportive for you: Women's Health Reflexology, a Nervous System Reset, Transformational Coaching, or simply a gentle space to pause, reflect, and reconnect.

If you'd like to be in with a chance, simply comment YES PLEASE — or tag someone you'd love to gift this to — in the comments below.

The recipient will be chosen using a random name generator on Monday 31 August at 12pm, and I'll announce them here before getting in touch privately.

Sometimes receiving is the bravest thing we can do, and sometimes a simple act of kindness creates ripples we never get to see.

Who's it going to be?
Good luck x

As a kid. I absolutely loved tidying and moving my bedroom round EVERY Sunday!

Dad would often come in to find be behind the wardrobe inching it cross the floor, ruching up the carpet to its new / temporary space.

What I loved the most was the feeling of completion. Laying on my bed afterwards, reading or doing homework with a sense of accomplishment and zero responsibility.

I’ve chased that illusive feeling of zero responsibility ever since. Until today …

A huge aha moment in that we can feel like that at any point, turn down the noise of the expectations from ourselves and / or others. Sit with the feeling of always work in progress.

Today was waking without the map in action.

I had not planned to completely blitz and organise Ol’s bedroom. It was an inspired action to ‘just start’, hoover under the bed.

Which led to a furniture move around.
Which led to a deeper clean.
Which led to empty the drawers.
Which led to sorting her clothes.
Which led to a Vinted pile.
Which led to space.
Which led to a feng shui-ed bed positioning.
Which led to remembering the attic is the Crown Chakra.
Which led to more motivation to clear and clean. Which unlocked the core memory of my bedroom rearranging as a kid.
Which led to a consideration of becoming a Visual Merchandiser.
Which led to a deep appreciation of 14 years in this line well-being of work.
Which led to a moment of
‘This is walking without the map in action’.

Never planned a bedroom overhaul, but step after step a fresher, organised bedroom is in the horizon for Ol.

The end.

Sunday evenings can sometimes carry a heaviness.

The end of the weekend.
The beginning of another busy week.
That familiar feeling of needing to be somewhere else already.

That's why, every Sunday evening, I hold space for something different.

An hour to soften, to exhale. An hour where there is absolutely nothing expected of you.

You might be curled up on the sofa, soaking in the bath or already tucked up in bed. Blankets. Soft lighting. A glass of water nearby. Simply allowing yourself to receive.

I call it A Twilight Spa for the Soul.

Using Reiki and Sekhem Energy Healing, I share a weekly remote healing session that you can receive from wherever you are. No cameras. No talking. No pressure to perform. Just an invitation to pause before we begin again, into the week ahead.

I often compare energy to a garden hose. When it becomes kinked, the water hasn't disappeared—it simply can't flow as freely.

Sometimes we're a little like that too.

Energy Healing isn't about fixing you. It's about gently helping life flow again. Softening what has become tight. Creating space for your own natural wisdom, calm and vitality to return.

Some people notice the shift during the session. Others sleep more deeply, feel lighter, calmer or clearer in the days that follow.

You don't need to understand how it works to experience it.

Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is stop trying to work everything out... and simply allow ourselves to receive.

Every Sunday | 8–9pm (UK)

You'd be so welcome.

https://www.lynnbutler.me/groupenergyhealing | bio | stories

Fourteen years, and I nearly missed it

It nearly slipped me by.

Today, 16 August, marks fourteen years since I stepped fully into self-employment. Fourteen years. I had to sit with that for a minute because, somehow, it doesn’t feel like fourteen years at all and yet, when I look back at everything that has happened in that time, it feels like several lifetimes.

There was no perfectly mapped-out business plan back in 2012. There was no clever five-year strategy, no beautifully organised roadmap and certainly no guarantee that any of it would work. There was just me, a growing belief that perhaps I could make this work, and a willingness to take the next step even though I couldn’t see much beyond it.

Looking back now, I realise there was probably far more courage in that decision than I gave myself credit for at the time. I didn’t know where it would lead, what the business would become or how many different versions of both the business and me there would be along the way. I just knew it felt like the right thing to do.

And so began fourteen years of self-employment, reinvention, ideas, experiments, lessons, leaps of faith, wobbles, surprises, synchronicities and more moments of “well, I didn’t see that coming” than I could ever count.

There have been different business names, different treatment rooms, different websites, different offers and different ways of describing what I do. I’ve been a sole trader, I’ve had companies, I’ve closed things, opened things, moved premises, taken commercial leases that felt enormous at the time and walked away from things when I knew they were no longer right.

There have been moments when everything flowed beautifully and moments when I wondered what on earth I was doing. There have been ideas that took off almost immediately and ideas that landed with absolutely no one except me. There have been things I thought would be part of my work forever that quietly came to an end, and other things that appeared almost by accident and became incredibly important.

I’ve followed nudges and ignored nudges. I’ve learned that ignoring them rarely works out particularly well for me. I’ve changed my mind, begun again, changed direction and occasionally surprised myself with what came next.

That is, I suppose, the reality of building something over fourteen years.

It isn’t a straight line.

From the outside, we tend to make stories look beautifully ordered. This happened, then this happened, then this happened, and eventually it all led here. But living it never feels quite as tidy as that. There are plenty of wrong turns, unexpected pauses, decisions made without certainty and moments where you have no idea whether you’re being brave or completely ridiculous.

I suspect many of the most important decisions in my business have felt a little bit like both.

What I understand now, though, in a way I couldn’t possibly have understood fourteen years ago, is that although we talk about “building a business” as if it is something we do alone, a business like mine is never built by one person.

I may be the person who creates the offers, opens the door, sends the emails, pays the bills, dreams up the workshops and occasionally has another one of my “I’ve had an idea…” moments, but none of this exists without the people who choose to walk through that door.

You built this with me.

You built it each time you booked an appointment, came back for another one, bought a voucher, attended a workshop, joined a retreat or signed up for something new simply because you trusted that I had created it with care.

You built it every time you sent a message to a friend and said, “I think you need to go and see Lynn.”

I honestly think that one sentence has done more for my business over the past fourteen years than any marketing strategy I could ever have created.

And I don’t take that trust lightly.

This work has meant being invited into some incredibly tender chapters of people’s lives. Over the years, clients have trusted me with stories they haven’t always known how to say out loud anywhere else. They have trusted me with fertility journeys, pregnancies, menopause, grief, heartbreak, anxiety, exhaustion, burnout, changing relationships, changing bodies, changing careers and all the strange in-between spaces when life doesn’t look how they thought it would.

People have arrived knowing exactly what they needed and people have arrived with absolutely no idea what they needed. Sometimes the only words they could find were, “I just don’t feel like myself anymore.”

Perhaps, looking back, that has been the thread running quietly through all fourteen years of my work.

Helping people find their way back to themselves.

The tools have expanded over the years. Reflexology led to other therapies, coaching, EFT, Matrix Reimprinting, energy work, workshops, retreats and all sorts of things I couldn’t have imagined when I first began. But underneath them all, I think I have always been trying to create the same thing.

A little bit of space.

Enough safety to stop holding everything together for a while. Enough stillness to hear what is actually going on underneath all the noise. Enough support to remember that you haven’t disappeared, even if life has made it difficult to recognise yourself lately.

I find it quite emotional when I think about how many people have been part of that story.

Some of you reading this have been with me for years. You have known several incarnations of both me and the business. You have followed me to different rooms, watched the website change, listened patiently while I explained the latest idea and returned through completely different chapters of your own lives.

Some of you first came to me during a fertility journey and later brought your babies back to meet me. Some first came for reflexology and later found yourselves sitting opposite me for coaching. Some came through grief, burnout, menopause, heartbreak or a crossroads you hadn’t expected to find yourself standing at.

Some of you have come to workshops, retreats, circles, Reiki training, MeFlexology, energy healing or one of the many other ideas that have found their way into the world over the years.

And some of you may have only crossed my path once.

One appointment. One conversation. One moment in a much bigger story.

That matters too.

I think one of the things we don’t say enough as small business owners is just how personal every booking actually is.

Of course, there is a transaction. Someone pays me and I provide a service. But it has never felt quite that simple to me, because every person who chooses to spend their money with my business is also choosing to support my life.

Those appointments have helped me pay the mortgage, raise a family, pay for training, keep a roof over my treatment room, develop new skills and continue doing work I genuinely love.

There is something incredibly humbling about realising that.

Every booking has mattered. Every recommendation has mattered. Every voucher bought for a friend, every workshop space filled, every email opened and every quiet message saying, “I thought of you when someone told me what they were going through” has mattered.

You might think you were simply booking an hour in my diary. To me, you were also helping make another month, another year and eventually fourteen years of self-employment possible.

Perhaps that is why I wanted to write this today rather than simply post “Happy business anniversary to me.”

Because fourteen years of self-employment isn’t really only my achievement.

It belongs, in part, to all the people who trusted me enough to allow me to keep going.

And what a privilege that has been.

There is another thing I notice when I look back over fourteen years. I spent a lot of the early years believing I should know what I was doing next. I thought successful people must have some sort of secret access to the map that the rest of us had missed.

Surely everybody else had the plan.

Surely everybody else knew what was coming.

Surely, at some point, I would reach a stage where I would stop wondering what the next step was and simply know.

Fourteen years later, I can confirm that has not happened.

What has happened instead is that I’ve learned to trust myself more.

I’ve learned that sometimes you don’t get certainty before you move. Sometimes the clarity arrives because you moved.

You take the room. You send the email. You put the idea into the world. You walk away from something that isn’t right anymore. You say yes before you know exactly how. You say no even though part of you is terrified of what happens afterwards.

And little by little, the path appears.

It feels particularly fitting to me now that Walking Without the Map has become such an important part of how I talk about my work, because I can see that I have been living that philosophy for much longer than I realised.

I have never had the whole map.

There have simply been moments where I could see enough of the next step to take it.

And then another.

And another.

Perhaps that is how we build businesses. Perhaps it is also how we build lives.

Not through one enormous, perfectly executed decision, but through hundreds of ordinary choices that slowly change the direction we are travelling in.

A conversation. An idea. A boundary. A yes. A no. A leap of faith. A moment when we decide we are no longer willing to stay where we are.

Extraordinary lives really might begin with ordinary choices.

So today, before this anniversary disappeared into another perfectly ordinary Sunday, I wanted to stop and notice it.

I wanted to notice the twenty-something version of me who could never have imagined this.

I wanted to notice every version of me who kept going after that.

And, mostly, I wanted to notice you.

Thank you for trusting me.

Thank you for your appointments, your recommendations, your messages, your reviews, your gift vouchers, your workshop bookings, your retreat bookings and your willingness to come along with me when I have another idea.

Thank you to those who have been here for years and to those who have only recently found me.

Thank you to the people I haven’t seen for a long time but who still occasionally tell somebody else about the work we did together.

Thank you to the people quietly reading these emails who may never have booked anything at all but have cheered me on from the sidelines.

Thank you for allowing me to make a living from work that still fascinates me after all this time.

Fourteen years later, I am still fascinated by people and by the incredible capacity we have to change. I am still fascinated by what happens when someone begins to trust themselves again. I am still convinced there is no such thing as a coincidence, still following the nudges, still having far too many ideas and still learning all the time.

I don’t know what the next fourteen years look like.

There was a time when that would have made me uncomfortable.

Now I think it might be the most exciting part.

I don’t need the whole map.

I just need enough light for the next step.

THANK YOU for walking some of the way with me.

Lynn :)

Today was one of those days that reminded me exactly why I created MeFlexology. 🌻

A table full of women, cups of coffee, mirrors, oils, laughter, conversation, curiosity and lots of hands-on learning.

But underneath all of that, something much simpler.

Time to notice ourselves.

MeFlexology was never meant to be another thing to add to the self-care to-do list.

It’s about learning simple ways to support ourselves in the middle of ordinary life.

To notice when we’re becoming overwhelmed before we’re completely depleted.

To listen when the body whispers, rather than waiting until it shouts.

To pause and ask:

What do I need right now?

And perhaps have a few more tools to help us respond.

A huge thank you to the gorgeous women who joined me today, trusted me to guide them, shared so openly and brought this little workshop to life.

And can we have a moment for those sunflowers? 🌻

The flower so beautifully connected to the solar plexus — our centre of personal power, confidence and I AM.

Quite perfect for a morning about becoming an active participant in our own wellbeing.

No such thing as a coincidence.

MeFlexology — Reflexology for me, by me.

If you’re looking at this thinking, I wish I’d come, there will absolutely be a next time.

Comment MEFLEX or send me a message and I’ll make sure you hear about the next workshop first. ❤️

Substack Sunday.

This week’s writing has just published.

A weekly space for reflection, perspective, life lessons, honest conversations and gentle reminders for those of us learning to walk without the whole map.

For the ones navigating change. The ones questioning. The ones growing. The ones becoming. The ones considering that there is more.

Perhaps none of us are ever given the whole map. Only the next step.

Link in comments | bio
https://substack.com/

TWO SPACES LEFT FOR TOMORROW 🤍

This is MeFlexology®.

Not another thing to add to your self-care list.

Something you can actually use.

Tomorrow morning, around this table, I’ll be teaching a small group of women simple reflexology and self-care techniques they can use on themselves — at home, at work, in bed, on the sofa… whenever they notice they need a little support.

Because I don’t believe self-care should only be about escaping from our lives.

The spa day.
The holiday.
The weekend away.
The hour when nobody needs anything from us.

Lovely? Absolutely.

But what about the other 99% of our lives?

MeFlexology® is about learning to notice yourself sooner.

To recognise when you’re becoming overwhelmed.

To listen when your body whispers rather than waiting until it shouts.

And to have a few simple tools you can reach for and ask:

What do I need right now?

Tomorrow’s workshop is relaxed, practical, hands-on and intentionally small.

And I have just TWO spaces left.

MeFlexology® | Everyday Self-Care Workshop
Sunday 16 August
10am–12pm
Millhouses, Sheffield
£27

If one of those chairs has your name on it, comment MEFLEX below and I’ll send you the booking link. 🤍