I have learned to appreciate winter this year and honestly, we have come to a very happy understanding.

When it is cold and raining outside there is nothing quite like something warm and nourishing quietly doing its thing on the bench. This week that was pulled pork in the crockpot. Low and slow. The whole house smelling incredible.

And because I was clearly on a roll I also made oaty apple crumble slice. Caramel sauce. A drizzle of cream. A decent wodge of ice cream on the side.

Decadent. Delicious. Extra rebounder sessions have been scheduled accordingly.

But here is what I kept thinking about while I was in the kitchen.

Visual spatial thinkers feel everything at full volume.

I want to talk about something that gets missed in almost every conversation about visual spatial thinkers and learning.

It's not always about reading levels or maths scores or where a child sits compared to the rest of the class.

It's about how much they feel, and how loudly that feeling can drown out everything else.

Visual spatial thinkers experience the world in pictures, in three dimensions, in full sensory detail. And that incredible capacity for depth and detail does not switch off when it comes to emotion. If anything, it turns the volume up. A small disappointment can feel enormous. A correction in class can feel like a verdict on who they are. A morning that starts badly can colour the entire day.

What if the thing that is costing your child the most has nothing to do with their reading level or maths scores? 

I want to talk about something that does not get nearly enough attention in the conversation around children who are struggling at school.

Not the reading scores. Not the spelling tests. Not the report card language that tells you your child is working below expectation or not yet at the level they should be for their age.

I want to talk about what is happening to your child on the inside while all of that is going on around them.

Because in my experience, that is the part that costs the most. And it is almost always the part that waits the longest to be addressed.

Most people think it is just for kindy. They are wrong.

I want to tell you about the one tool I reach for before anything else when I sit down with a new learner.

It is not a programme. It is not an app. It is not a worksheet or a structured literacy kit.

It is clay.

And before you scroll past this thinking that sounds like something your five year old does on a Tuesday afternoon at kindy, stay with me. Because what happens in the brain when a picture thinker makes something with their hands is completely different to anything that happens when they stare at words on a page.

The outstanding numbers and a little girl who found self belief.

Today I want to tell you about Jade.

She is one of my most recent case studies. And when her results came in my mouth hung open like a stunned mullet.

Jade is a little girl who spent years working harder than anyone around her and wondering why it never quite felt like enough.

Sound familiar?

One of the most common things people say when they come to see me is some version of this: “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but learning just seems harder than it should be.”

Ever watched your child sit through an end-of-year assembly, waiting hopefully to hear their name… only for the awards to go to everyone else? It’s a moment that stays with you.

Charlie came into my office last week with his mum. He was polite, friendly, and open. But underneath that, he was tired.

I’ve had a few conversations lately with adults who quietly admit they’re struggling at work. They’ll say things like, “I’m smart… I know I’m smart… so why does everyone else cope so easily and I’m over here falling apart with emails and meetings?”

We’ve all been there. Everything feels like it’s falling apart, and suddenly even the simplest decisions seem impossible. Your usually clear-thinking mind turns into a jumble of competing priorities and mounting panic.

We’ve all been there. Everything feels like it’s falling apart, and suddenly even the simplest decisions seem impossible. Your usually clear-thinking mind turns into a jumble of competing priorities and mounting panic.

You’ve noticed your child is bright, but something’s not clicking with their reading, writing, or maths. You’re juggling meltdowns after school, homework battles, and that sinking feeling of “what am I missing?” The questions keep swirling: Where do I go for help?

Reading can be challenging for many people, especially when the words on the page feel overwhelming or difficult to focus on.

An interesting occurrence happened the other day as I was consulting with an 11-year-old boy (Max*) and his mum.

In classrooms across the world, children proudly recite their times tables, spell words in perfect sequence, and sing the alphabet song with confidence.

Learning challenges don't exist in isolation. They ripple through entire support networks, affecting colleagues, managers, families, and communities.

For years, I thought maybe I was just slow. Or not trying hard enough.

This isn’t about bad behaviour or kids being lazy. It’s overwhelm, anxiety, and learning systems that simply don’t fit every brain.

More Than Just Being Clumsy

Here’s why neurodiversity is more than inclusion. It’s innovation. I’ve seen first-hand how the right support transforms lives and businesses.