Michaela Werner - Freediver

As I rest after surgery and allow my body to heal, I find myself scrolling through the photos on my phone.

So many sunrises.

This year, as I turn 47, I’ve watched more sunrises than perhaps in the rest of my life combined. I’m definitely more salted than chlorinated. And I’ve connected with the ocean, my community, friends and family more deeply than ever before.

And I realise something.

Where focus goes, energy flows.

We don’t always get to choose what happens to us. But we do get to choose how we respond.

Fear or love.
Control or acceptance.
Decisions driven by the head or the heart.
Yesterday, tomorrow… or right here, right now.

My freediving training, and everything else this year has brought me, has given me a deep knowing that I am thriving.

I don’t feel sick, weak or fearful.

I feel present. Grateful. Alive.

Perhaps I needed this.

Why? I’m not sure yet. But I trust.

So for now, I’m letting my heart be my compass and allowing life to unfold. 💙

📸 Photography: 3 & 5 Brydie Piaf

TrustTheJourney

The healing power of focus and gratitude. 💙

The same day. Two very different moments.

At sunrise, I stood naked before the ocean, feeling strong. Cold water, morning light, meditation, presence.

A few hours later, I sat vulnerable in a hospital gown with a cannula in my hand — tears pouring down my cheeks, yet trusting my doctors, surrendering, and feeling deeply grateful for the care I was receiving.

Since the diagnosis, I feel as though my mind has expanded. I’ve been listening closely to my inner knowing and consciously choosing where I place my focus — on trust, gratitude, love and everything that makes me feel deeply alive.

As a result, there is a calmness and clarity I haven’t experienced before.

Perhaps the “speed bump” came into my life to slow me down just enough to see more clearly what has always been here.

This body.
My family.
The ocean.
My friendships.
My community.
The morning light.
Messages arriving from across the world.
Love. So much love.

All of it holding me — and me finally allowing it to enter deeply.

The speed bump is gone now. 💙 My body is healing.

And I’m learning about softness, kindness to myself and openness. About allowing rather than fighting. Because sometimes, when we stop resisting what is, we create space to see just how much we already have.

I don’t know yet where all of this is leading me.

Perhaps I don’t need to know.

Life is a mystery I don’t need to solve.

For now, my whole being seems to be whispering the same words:

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you. 🙏🏻

This is probably the most difficult post I’ve ever written.

A few weeks ago, I found a little “speed bump” in my right breast.

The biopsy results were not what I had expected.

Since then, I’ve spent time gathering information, asking questions, and receiving incredible support from my family and closest friends…

…but mostly, I’ve been diving deeper into myself.

And what I’m finding there is a world full of contrasts—just like this photograph. One couldn’t exist without the other.

Light and darkness.
Strength and softness.
Control and surrender.

But more than anything…

I’m finding an unexpected invitation.

An invitation to really get to know myself.
To grow.
To listen.
To dive deeper.

Looking back now, I realise my lifetime in the water has been preparing me for this.

Freediving has taught me that challenge isn’t something to fight. It’s something to meet with awareness.
With presence.
With trust.

Physically, I continue to feel great. I ocean swim most mornings, my breath holds feel easy and joyful, and I have plenty of energy.

Emotionally, I’ve deepened my meditation practice, and every day I’m discovering new perspectives and new dimensions within myself. I have moments when I feel a little on edge, particularly when navigating people’s well-meaning questions and the emotions surrounding the “c” word.

I don’t see this experience as something to get through. I see it as something that is shaping me. The “speed bump” is the messenger.

As a coach, I have a feeling that on the other side of this journey, I’ll be able to understand people’s challenges more deeply and support them with even greater compassion—in the water and beyond.

At the heart of it all, I trust my body.

This amazing body has carried me through oceans, births, world records, adventures, and so much life already.

I cannot choose everything that happens to me.

But I can choose how I respond.

And I choose presence.
I choose honesty.
I choose gratitude.
I choose love.

💙

This incredibly powerful, yet vulnerable photograph was taken at my favourite spot at Redhead Beach on a cold, damp winter morning by my beautiful friend, light sculptor and photographic magician, Brydie Piaf

What do you feel when you look at the stillness of cold water?

Beauty?
Fear?
Connection?
An invitation?

I feel a call to challenge myself.
To strip naked.
To trust the calmness of my breath.

Because I know that on the other side of discomfort…
there’s always a gift waiting.

The feeling of being truly alive. 💙

Two Guinness World Records.

When I was younger, I thought records were something you achieved. Today, I realise they’re simply markers of who you became along the way.

A few days ago, my second Guinness World Records certificate arrived.

I’m incredibly proud of it — not because of the distance we covered or the title itself, but because it reminds me that a group of fairly independent, unique individuals came together and created something special.

Looking at both certificates, I realised I’m already working on my third.

This one won’t need judges.
It won’t need cameras.
It won’t be measured in metres or minutes.
And it won’t be happening in the water.

And it certainly won’t arrive in the mail.

Instead, it will be written into my heart.
Into my bones.
Into every tissue.
Into my DNA.

Michaela Werner
Met Challenge with Presence
July 2026

This challenge isn’t one I chose. It chose me.

Yet strangely… I feel ready. And calm.

Almost as though every sunrise swim, every breath held underwater, every conversation, every success and every setback has been preparing me for this moment.

Not to fight.
Not to conquer.

But to meet whatever comes with presence and softness.

Freediving has taught me that the deepest dives are never measured by numbers alone.

The deepest dives happen within ourselves.

So…

I have a feeling this will be the deepest dive of my life - into my soul.

It’s Sunday morning, 6am. It’s dark. Cold. Wet.

You have a choice.

Stay tucked up in bed… or answer the quiet call of the ocean.

So you get up.

You drive to the beach, watch the first colours of sunrise paint the sky, and stand for a moment in awe. Then, with a deep breath, you jump off the rocks, towards the pod of dolphins, and surrender yourself to the waves.

Each wave crashes over you, washing away another small piece of what you no longer need to carry. The cold disappears. Time disappears. The breath is calm.

I dive down and feel the texture of the seagrass as it dances with each wave.

All that’s left is this moment… and one simple thought:

How lucky am I to be here?

I exit the water, sand everywhere, shivering, but so happy.

Shortly after, I jump in again with others and complete a 50m swim — most of it underwater — which does make me quite slow, but also so happy.

The ocean has a way of reminding me that we don’t always need to win. Sometimes I simply need to show up, trust, and let myself be carried for a while. Do not fight.

Once again…

Thank you, my dearest ocean, for letting me in.

For holding me.

For reminding me.

For sending me back to shore a little softer and wiser than when I arrived.

🌊💙

From Australia 🇦🇺 to Lithuania 🇱🇹… the ripple effect is real. 💙

Six months ago, our Australian team completed the 24-hour Dynamic No Fins relay — 98.02 km underwater, raising funds for Rainbow Club and showing what is possible when a group of people comes together with trust, purpose and heart.

Last week I received the most beautiful message all the way from Lithuania!
A team of 15 passionate swimmers/freedivers had just completed their own 24-hour pool event, which was officially recorded as a Lithuanian national record. Their setup was different — no wetsuits, no neck weights — but the spirit was deeply connected to what we experienced in Sydney: teamwork, endurance, belief, presence, and the willingness to explore what is possible underwater.

What touched me most was hearing that our event had inspired them.

When I dreamed up our 24-hour relay, I hoped it would go beyond the distance. And it did. To know that this inspiration travelled all the way from Australia to Lithuania is incredibly exciting.

This is one of the reasons I love sharing my work in Dynamic No Fins so much. For me, No Fins has never been just about diving further or deeper. It is about learning to move with less force, more awareness, more trust, and more understanding of ourselves in the water.

And maybe this is not the end of the journey.
The Lithuanian team has officially caught the “No Fins bug” — and I would love to support some of them through No Fins, No Worries if they feel called to explore this discipline more deeply.

Because this is how the sport grows.

One team inspires another.
One event creates another.
One ripple travels further than we imagined.

Huge congratulations to the Lithuanian team on your incredible national record. Thank you for your message, your enthusiasm and your beautiful spirit. I’m honoured that our Australian relay played a small part in your journey.

Please follow and celebrate their achievement:
Liepsnojantis Aitvaras
Dauskurtas

No Fins is growing.
And I’m so happy to be part of sharing it with the world.