Julie Jewels Smoot

Medical trauma does not necessarily end when someone leaves the examination room. Sometimes the consequences follow a person for years. For me, that experience contributed to a profound loss of trust in VA healthcare. I did not simply forget what happened.

And I am especially tired of people celebrating military service while becoming uncomfortable when veterans talk about military sexual trauma, chronic pain, medical neglect, and the lasting consequences of serving.

Think about that. A service member experiences sexual violence, and instead of receiving protection, compassion, and accountability, that person may find themselves facing hostility from the very people responsible for their welfare.

Healing did not take away my voice. Peace did not make me passive. And compassion did not make me willing to tolerate bullshit.

Moments when explanations cannot reach the places where fear, grief, exhaustion, and emotion have been carried for years. Moments when what we need is not another conversation, another solution, or another instruction about how to heal. Sometimes, what we need is to experience being held. Not restrained. Not controlled. Not touched without permission.

Someone may believe we should be ready to talk about an experience. Someone may encourage us to participate in an activity. Someone may suggest that we need to move beyond a particular fear.

Listening without absorbing is not a refusal to feel. It is a way of honoring feeling without confusing it for ownership. The space after holding matters because care does not end when the visible exchange ends. The listener also needs to be held by ground, breath, sound, and simple return.

It does not mean everything has healed. It does not mean painful memories have disappeared. It does not mean I will never experience grief, anger, fear, or discomfort again. It means I recognize my right to make decisions about my own life.

The space between sounds matters just as much as the sounds themselves. And over the years, I have come to understand that the same can be true in life. There are moments when we are creating.

We do not owe anyone our stories. We do not owe anyone the details of what happened to us. We do not owe anyone an explanation for our boundaries. We do not owe anyone a description of our pain.

Through my own experiences with military service, trauma, Complex PTSD, chronic pain, grief, and recovery, I have come to understand how important it is to have choices. Choices about my body. Choices about my environment. Choices about what I share. Choices about how I participate. And choices about what I want from a listening experience.

For years, I have observed how meditation, sound healing, and wellness practices are often presented as experiences that should produce particular outcomes. Relaxation. Peace. Calmness. Emotional release. Inner transformation.

I have spent much of my life navigating expectations. Expectations about who I should be, how I should behave, what I should tolerate, how I should respond, and how quickly I should move forward from difficult experiences.

My body has carried me through every experience of my life. It has responded to stress, exhaustion, grief, fear, joy, movement, and rest. There have been times when I have felt connected to my body and times when that connection has been difficult. But I do not believe that reconnecting with ourselves requires us to override what our bodies are communicating.

Throughout 2026, my creative work with JS Worldbridger and Author Honey Badger has continued to evolve through a series of albums exploring sound, stillness, boundaries, personal awareness, and the relationship between the body and lived experience.

Some people will not explain. Some will not take responsibility. Some will remember the story in a way that protects them. Some will move on without acknowledging the harm. Some will treat the distance as your problem because that is easier than facing their part in it.

I know my worth. I know who I am. I know what I have survived, what I have overcome, and what I have created. My life has carried me through military service, healing work, writing, music, advocacy, grief, awakening, and renewal. None of that becomes less real because a social media post does not receive engagement

Sound and energy work together in a delicate balance. When I experience this combination, I notice how it shifts my mood and opens my heart. The vibrations from sound can clear away heaviness. Energy work supports this by helping to realign and refresh the body’s natural state.

When I first encountered the gentle art of sound healing, I felt a quiet invitation to slow down. It was a moment of calm in a busy world. This is the essence of the work by julie jewels smoot, an artist sound healing guide who offers a path to harmony and balance. Her approach is soft, soothing, and deeply personal. It invites you to explore your inner landscape with kindness and care.

This series is not about adding another tool to your toolbox. It is not about doing more, guiding more, or facilitating more. It is about something quieter.