Julie Jewels Smoot

Many people are told, “There’s nothing wrong anymore,” while still experiencing very real pain. Scans come back clear. Tests look normal. And yet the pain remains. When the nervous system has learned that the world—or the body itself—is unsafe, it may continue to send danger signals even after tissue has healed. This is not failure. It is conditioning.

I do not use music to fix my Post-Traumatic Stress or my grief .I use music to stay in relationship with myself while healing unfolds. For me, sound has never been about bypassing pain or transforming it into something more palatable. It has been about creating a space where my nervous system is allowed to respond honestly — without pressure, without urgency, and without expectation.

You may listen closely. You may listen from another room. You may let the sound play while your attention moves elsewhere. You may stop listening before the sound ends. You may return later. You may not return at all.

Sound is often used to move us somewhere else. Toward calm. Toward clarity. Toward a different state. But sound does not need to create change in order to be supportive. In this work, sound is allowed to remain with what is already here. It does not pull the body forward or ask it to soften.

When sound is released from the need to make a statement, something else becomes possible. There is less effort in listening. Less reaching. Less searching for meaning. Sound does not ask to be understood. It does not require attention, analysis, or translation. It does not need to be followed from beginning to end.

I feel it soothe my weary soul Like a balm on a wounded hole It fills me with a sense of calm And lifts me up like a healing balm Yin energy, so quiet and strong It carries me through my darkest song It wraps me in its loving embrace And fills me with a sense of grace I feel it in the earth below In the trees that gently sway and blow In the birds that sing their sweet tune In the flowers that bloom and bloom