Julie Jules Smoot’s work as a sound alchemist did not emerge from theory or technique alone. It grew slowly—through years of personal healing, careful listening, and learning what it means to live inside a body again after trauma. Before sound became an offering, it was a companion. Julie’s healing path has included many modalities, each meeting her at different moments, each teaching something distinct about safety, choice, and timing.

There is a point in many healing journeys where stopping feels wrong. Not because something is unsafe—but because leaving feels like failure. We are taught, often subtly, that healing requires endurance. That staying longer is better. That pushing through discomfort is progress. That stopping means we didn’t try hard enough. Trauma-informed sound challenges this belief. You are allowed to stop.

Trust rarely arrives as certainty. It doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t feel like confidence. It doesn’t come with proof. More often, trust grows in places that are almost unnoticeable. In the moment you stay when you once would have left. In the breath that comes a little easier. In the choice to listen without bracing. Trust grows quietly. Many people believe trust should feel like safety all at once—a clear signal that the body has decided everything is okay

Many people arrive in healing spaces already apologizing. For how long it’s taking. For how little has changed. For still feeling the way they feel. There is often an unspoken timeline hovering in the background.

In many healing spaces, improvement is implied. Calmer. Lighter. More open. More regulated. Even gentle practices can carry the message that who you are now is a starting point—not a place to stay. For trauma-shaped nervous systems, this can feel like another place to fail.

A serene meditation scene highlights the healing power of silence, offering refuge for the nervous system with calming candlelight and incense. In many healing spaces, silence is treated as something to fill. A pause that lasts too long. A gap that needs guidance. An emptiness waiting for meaning. But for some nervous systems, silence is not absence. It is refuge. Silence does not mean nothing is happening Silence can feel unfamiliar—especially if your system learned to stay

If you’re new here, you may be wondering what trauma-informed sound actually means. You may be curious, cautious, hopeful, skeptical—or simply tired. You may be drawn to sound but unsure if it will feel safe. You may have tried healing spaces before and left feeling unseen, overwhelmed, or like you didn’t belong. This orientation is not here to convince you of anything.

People often ask what is supposed to happen during sound healing. They want to know what they should feel. They want to know if they’re doing it right. They want to know how they’ll know it’s working. These questions make sense. Many of us have learned that healing looks a certain way—calm, emotional release, insight, lightness, peace. But trauma-informed sound begins with a quieter truth:

If you’re here, you may be curious about sound healing—but unsure if it’s for you. You may be living with trauma, grief, exhaustion, or a nervous system that doesn’t easily settle. You may have tried meditation, breathwork, or sound before and felt like it didn’t work—or didn’t feel safe. This space is different. There is no right way to be here. There is nothing you need to fix. You are welcome exactly as you are.

Even when these expectations are offered gently, they are still expectations. And for many people—especially those with trauma histories—expectations can feel like pressure. Trauma-informed sound healing begins with a different premise: Nothing is required of you.

If sound healing has ever made you feel restless, emotional, numb, irritated, or even resistant, nothing has gone wrong. Your body isn’t failing. Your nervous system isn’t broken. It may be doing exactly what it needs to do. Trauma-informed sound work begins with a different assumption than most wellness culture: healing does not require relaxation. Healing requires safety, consent, and honest presence—sometimes quiet, sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes wordless.

Julie Jewels Smoot continues to expand her sound alchemy practice with a variety of newer albums, single tracks, and immersive sound experiences that build on and diversify her earlier Threads of Trauma work. This evolution in her artistic journey reflects not only her commitment to exploring the depths of sound but also her desire to connect with listeners on a more profound level.

We live in a culture obsessed with calm. Calm your mind. Regulate your nervous system. Breathe until everything feels better. For many people—especially those who have lived through trauma, grief, military service, chronic stress, or long-term overwhelm—this message quietly turns into another form of pressure. If calm were the doorway to healing, you would already be healed.

Many people come to sound healing expecting peace.

When the mind is overloaded and the heart feels adrift, sound healing offers a pathway beyond words. A Neptune Gong Bath is a deeply immersive sound healing experience guided by Sound Alchemist Julie Jewels Smoot, inviting participants into states of profound rest, emotional softening, and spiritual stillness. Neptune—the planet of dreams, mysticism, compassion, and the subconscious—works through dissolution rather than force. This gong bath is not about setting intentions

Venus Rising is a trauma-informed gong bath focused on the energetic qualities of Venus, the planet associated with love, beauty, balance, pleasure, and emotional connection. The Venus Gong emits complex sound waves that interact with the body, mind, and heart center, creating space for release, rest, and gentle emotional repair. Rather than pushing for change, this sound healing session allows transformation to occur naturally through resonance. Participants are invited t

In trauma-informed and somatic frameworks, it is understood that regulation often follows activation. The nervous system may need to recognize and move through held patterns before settling. Sound can catalyze this process. For someone accustomed to dissociation, relaxation can feel unsafe. Stillness may bring awareness that was previously avoided. In these cases, discomfort is not a sign of harm—it is a sign of contact.

Jupiter is the planet of expansion, wisdom, growth, and meaning. Its energy is not subtle—it moves outward, widening perspective, dissolving limitation, and inviting us to occupy more space within ourselves and the world. When translated into sound, Jupiter’s influence becomes a powerful field of resonance that encourages both inner and outer expansion.

There are moments in sound work when nothing seems to happen. No waves of emotion. No visions. No release that announces itself. Just sound, breath, and the ordinary awareness of being in a body. These moments are often misunderstood. We’re conditioned to look for signs—proof that something is working. When nothing obvious occurs, it’s easy to assume the session failed, that the sound missed its mark, or that we somehow did it wrong.

The body listens long before the mind understands. Long before language, before story, before memory has a name, the nervous system responds to vibration. Tone, rhythm, resonance—these are the first languages we ever knew.