The Chiron gong does not ask what happened. It does not search for meaning. It does not translate pain into a lesson or a path forward. Some experiences resist narrative for good reason. Words can flatten what was overwhelming. Explanation can feel like exposure. Chiron does not insist on coherence.

Chiron respects this choice. You are not asked to move closer to sensation. You are not invited to drop inward. You are not encouraged to “lean into” anything. Listening does not require proximity. You may remain oriented to the room. You may keep your eyes open. You may stay aware of exits, walls, light, and sound outside the gong.

When the Neptune gong fades, there is no next step. No moment where you are asked to reflect. No instruction to integrate what you experienced. No suggestion that something should be carried forward. Listening ends cleanly. You do not need to hold onto the sound. You do not need to remember it accurately. You do not need to understand what happened while it was present.

Water does not correct the body. It does not diagnose. It does not decide what should happen next. It supports by being present. Neptune sound behaves in this way. This listening is not medicine applied to you. It is not a treatment designed to fix, improve, or resolve.

In Spring and Summer, rhythm may be shared more publicly. Sound may be played in ways that invite gathering, presence, or collective listening. Even then, the work remains non-directive. The drum does not ask more because the season is open.

Rhythm is not only made of sound. It is also made of what is not filled. Between each beat, there is a pause. Between moments of sound, there is space. In this work, those spaces are not treated as absences. They are part of the rhythm itself. Silence does not mean something has gone wrong.

You are not committing to anything by listening. You are allowed to step closer, move farther away, or leave entirely. The drum does not require access to you. You do not need to stay until the sound ends. You do not need to push through discomfort. You do not need to override your own signals.

Before there are thoughts, images, or meaning, the body may already be responding. A shift in posture. A change in breath. A tightening, a softening, or a desire to move—or to be very still. None of this needs to be invited for it to be real. In trauma-informed work, the body is understood as a primary listener. It takes in sound through sensation, timing, and proximity long before interpretation enters the picture. This does not mean the body knows something you must de

Some daysThey sit alongside experience rather than trying to change it. They offer vibration without interpretation. They allow the body to remain as it is. Some days, the sound may feel comforting. Some days, it may feel irrelevant. Some days, it may feel unwelcome., the sound may feel comforting. Some days, it may feel irrelevant. Some days, it may feel unwelcome.

For some nervous systems, sustained tones can feel overwhelming, disorienting, or intrusive. This is especially true for people with sound sensitivity, migraines, tinnitus, or certain trauma histories. This does not mean the body is “resistant. "It means the body is communicating. Trauma-informed sound work does not override that communication.

You do not need to listen the entire time. You do not need to stay near the sound. You do not need to “work with” the vibration. Turning the sound off is part of the practice. Leaving the room is part of the practice. Needing quiet afterward is part of the practice.

I’ve opened a membership—not as a program, not as a promise, and not as a requirement to heal. This membership exists for one simple reason: to create a protected, quiet way to listen. Over time, I’ve learned that sound offered publicly, without containment, is often misunderstood, misused, or consumed too quickly. I’ve also learned that many people—especially those living with trauma, chronic stress, or nervous system overwhelm—need less instruction, not more.

A serene rest day unfolds with a vibrant sunset painting the sky over the tranquil ocean waves.

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.