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.

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 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.

“Shut Up and Listen to Survivors” operates less as a protest poem and more as a clinical case statement rendered in voice. Written in 2016 in response to survivors of military sexual trauma (MST) being heard but not meaningfully responded to during U.S. Senate proceedings, the poem articulates a familiar trauma dynamic: testimony offered in good faith, followed by institutional non-response.