Downshift
Fifty minutes at resonance pace — 5.5 seconds in, 5.5 seconds out — until your heart rate stops arguing with you.
Intensity 1 of 3.
Sixteen mats · 9 Farrow Yard
A breathwork and slow-movement studio in a converted wool-drying loft. One room, one skylight, no mirrors, and a basket by the door where the phones go to sleep.
First class £8. No joining fee. Nothing starts before 9:30.
5.5 seconds in, 5.5 seconds out
Follow it if you like. Nothing happens if you do not.
Neve spent eleven years as a respiratory physiotherapist teaching people how to get up a flight of stairs. Stillwater is what she built when she wanted the physiology without the hospital — and without the wellness industry's habit of turning rest into another thing to be good at.
So there is nothing to win here. You lie down, someone counts, and for fifty minutes your nervous system gets told, very slowly, that it can stand down.
Wednesday to Sunday, 11 classes, every one of them at the same time every week.
People ask us to relax each of these about once a fortnight. We have said no since March 2021.
Every phone, switched to silent, in the willow basket by the door. Teachers' too. The front desk answers the landline through every class if someone needs you.
No 6am class sold as discipline. The earliest mat on the timetable is one you can reach after a full night's sleep and a proper breakfast.
No leaderboards, no badges, no heart-rate screen on the wall, no email when you miss a week. Nobody is counting anything except your breath.
£16 a class, £8 the first time. No joining fee, no auto-renewing annual contract, and a cancellation rule that fits in one sentence.
From thirty-five minutes in a chair at lunchtime to seventy-five minutes under a blanket on the last Friday of the month.
Fifty minutes at resonance pace — 5.5 seconds in, 5.5 seconds out — until your heart rate stops arguing with you.
Intensity 1 of 3.
Thirty-five minutes at lunchtime, sitting upright, working only on the back half of the breath. In at your desk by two.
Intensity 2 of 3.
An hour of movements so small they feel pointless, done slowly enough that your nervous system finally notices them.
Intensity 2 of 3.
Every teacher trained in something with a certificate and a hospital, a stage or a studio floor behind it.
Neve Ashworth
Founder, and most of the Wednesdays
“Nothing is wrong with you. Your nervous system is just doing its job too well.”
Tomáš Řeháček
Long Exhale, The Ladder
“The exhale is the instrument. The inhale is just the reload.”
Ayo Bankole
Floor Work
“Smaller. Slower. Now do the same thing with less.”
June Calloway
First Mat, The Long Room
“You are allowed to just lie there. That is the class.”
I booked First Mat expecting to feel ridiculous. June spent the first five minutes telling us we would sigh and should not apologise. I sighed. I did not apologise. I have been every Sunday since February.
The Long Exhale class is thirty-five minutes and I am back at my desk by ten to two. It is the only lunch break I take that I actually come back from.
First Mat, on Sunday at 11:00. It costs £8, June explains everything before asking you to do it, and the last ten minutes are for questions. She will suggest one class to try next.
None of the three. Most classes are done lying down or sitting in a chair. The only class that asks anything of your body is The Ladder, and we will steer you away from it on day one.
Cancel at least six hours before it starts and the class goes straight back on your account. Inside six hours the mat is spent. That is the whole rule, and it applies to everyone, members included.
Two changing rooms with benches and hooks, no lockers — your things stay in the room with you. There is no shower; nothing on the timetable needs one.
More from the room in the journal —What sixteen mats actually cost,.
Book a mat online, or ring the front desk and a person will pick up. First class is eight pounds, whichever one you choose.