Julie Jewels Smoot

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.

The Sound of a Woman Who Has Had Enough is a deeply personal collection of original spoken-word compositions about reaching the point in life where silence is no longer an option.

If someone sees us awake, they may assume we are ready to talk. If we are sitting quietly, they may assume we have nothing else to do. If we do not immediately respond, they may wonder whether something is wrong.

We learn to answer when someone calls. We learn to listen when someone wants to talk. We learn to make ourselves available, even when we are exhausted, overwhelmed, or simply longing for silence. Somewhere along the way, we may begin believing that being a good person means always being accessible.

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.

A hand carefully pulls a wooden block labeled "CHOICE" from a stacked tower, symbolizing decision-making. There is something I have learned through my experiences as a United States Navy veteran, a survivor of sexual violence, an advocate, and a woman living with Complex PTSD. Having a choice matters. It matters when someone enters a room. It matters when someone approaches your body. It matters when someone asks you a personal question. It matters when someone invites you to

The pause after a gong. The quiet following a Tibetan singing bowl. The moment before a hand pan melody begins. The natural sounds that may be present in the recording environment. Those spaces create room for the sounds to be heard individually. They also influence the overall rhythm of the recording.

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.

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.

Listening can mean noticing a sensation in the body. It can mean recognizing an emotion that has been pushed aside. It can mean realizing that nothing needs to happen right now. It can mean turning the music off and choosing quiet. All of those responses are valid.

A woman sits on a rock, gazing at a serene sunset, surrounded by signposts labeled "People Pleasing," "Self-Abandonment," "Trying to Fit In," and "Ignoring My Boundaries," with one pointing to "Choosing Myself," emphasizing the theme of self-acceptance over forced belonging. There was a time in my life when belonging meant being part of something. A community. A practice. A group of people who shared similar interests, values, and experiences. I believed that being part of a

A woman stands triumphantly against a vibrant sunset, symbolizing empowerment and healing, with the words "Reclaiming My Power" and a reminder that healing doesn't mean giving away one's personal boundaries. There comes a point in the healing journey when something begins to change. Not necessarily in a dramatic way. Sometimes there is no breakthrough, no extraordinary moment of clarity, and no sudden feeling that everything has finally been resolved. Sometimes the change is

Pause and reflect: What does your body truly need today? Explore options like movement, rest, or simply being, as you immerse yourself in this peaceful setting. Listen first—nothing is required. There are days when my body wants movement. There are days when it wants sound. There are days when it wants quiet. There are days when it wants to walk, stretch, breathe, move slowly, listen to a gong, receive bodywork, or simply curl up underneath a blanket and be left the hell alon

The Chiron Gong creates space for listening to what still exists beneath survival. In astrology, Chiron is often associated with the “wounded healer.” But in trauma-informed sound work, I approach Chiron differently. I do not believe every wound needs to become wisdom immediately. I do not believe pain must become purpose in order to deserve care.

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.

Art has a way of touching the soul. It invites us to pause, to breathe, and to feel. My journey as an artist has been a gentle unfolding. It has been about discovering the quiet spaces within and sharing them with others. Through sound, energy work, and poetry, I have found a path to healing and growth. This is a story of that path, a story I hope will bring you calm and inspiration.