The Athlete’s Path: A Journey of Devotion, Discipline & Awakening

From the age of eight, I knew I would represent Australia.

It wasn’t a dream it was a certainty that lived in my body. Squash became my world, my rhythm, and my purpose. Every training session, every tournament, every sacrifice pointed in that one direction.

The Early Years

Between eight and eighteen, my life revolved around tournaments.

I won the Queensland State Age Championships every year, sometimes doubling up and winning both my age group and the one above. I never won an Australian title, though second place, four times in a row. That used to burn in me.

Looking back, I see the single focus I lived with. I missed family holidays, and my brother spent countless weekends waiting at squash courts for me. But at the time, it didn’t feel like sacrifice it felt like destiny.

QLD Junior Championships photo with Geoff Hunt and Heather McKay (The greatest male and female players in history)

The Training Ground

When I moved to Brisbane at eighteen, everything became serious.

I had a scholarship with the Australian Institute of Sport. Training was full-time gym, fitness, squash, recovery, repeat. The structure was intense but gave me purpose.

I was naturally grounded, calm by nature. It took effort to fire myself up for matches, but I showed up every day and gave everything. The repetition became a way of life.

I didn’t realise it then, but the discipline was teaching me presence, how to stay steady, how to focus completely on the moment in front of me.

The Loneliness of the Game

Tournaments were the hardest part.

From the outside, it looked glamorous, travel, uniforms, competition.

But on the inside, it was often lonely. You spent long days waiting for your match time, trying to conserve energy while battling the anxiety in your own mind.

Even when travelling with teammates, it was isolating. They were also my opponents. The same people I shared meals with were the ones I’d face on court. It was an unusual kind of friendship, polite but distant.

I rarely saw the places I visited. I was too focused on performing. Airports, hotels, and squash courts blurred together. Winning or losing didn’t matter as much as what came next. It was always about the next match.

Those years taught me resilience and focus, but they also took something from me. I learned how to keep going no matter what a skill that would later serve me but at the time, it also meant I learned how to suppress what I was really feeling.

Winning my biggest event in Pakistan

The Fracture

By 2011, my body was breaking down.

Months of plantar fasciitis led to a full tear during the Malaysian Open. I was supposed to move to Amsterdam afterward to train with world number one Nicol David. Instead, the physio told me to cancel everything and fly home for treatment.

I was in denial. I refused surgery, convinced my body would heal. I spent six months in a moon boot, three months, then another three, when nothing changed. Eventually, my physio suggested trying box jumps to force a full rupture so I could start rehab. The pain was unbearable.

I remember crying in the clinic, saying, “I can’t do this anymore. Let’s just do the surgery.”

During that long recovery, I started working with a man on developing a social media platform for the sporting world. It gave me something to focus on a project beyond competition. That was the first time I realised there was more to life than sport.

It wasn’t a spiritual awakening yet, but it opened a door. The stillness, the change of pace, the curiosity it all planted the seed for what would eventually become the next chapter of my life.

The Return

When I came back after surgery, I expected to feel driven again. But it wasn’t the same.

The passion was still there, but the fire was fading. The politics, the favouritism, and the pressure all started to wear on me. I began to sense that my time in the sport was coming to an end.

I started journaling, writing down thoughts and visions that came through. I saw myself speaking to people, teaching them about energy and performance, but I didn’t understand what it meant yet. I just knew something was shifting.

Squash had given me structure, resilience, and awareness but it had also shown me the limits of control. I had spent years mastering my body, only to realise the real work was learning to listen to it.

The court had been my first classroom.

The discipline, the focus, the stillness all of it was preparing me for something greater.

Reflection

Looking back now, I can see how those years shaped the foundation for the work I do today.

The same awareness that once helped me anticipate the ball now helps me read energy.

The same discipline that built an athlete now holds space for healing.

Every path has its purpose even the ones that end before we expect them to.

Mine began with a racquet, a court, and a child’s knowing and led me home to myself.

About Lisa Camilleri

Lisa Camilleri is the founder of True Self Attunement™, a holistic practice dedicated to guiding others back to their natural state of balance, clarity, and inner truth.

A former professional athlete turned intuitive energy healer, Lisa now helps individuals and families reconnect with the wisdom of their body and soul through energy work, mindfulness, and conscious living.

Connect with Lisa on

Instagram @trueselfattunement 

or visit TrueSelfAttunement.com