In both movement and sound, there is an assumption that something must always be happening—another cue, another tone, another instruction, another layer. But my training, experience, and listening have taught me something quieter and more demanding: sometimes the most ethical choice is to pause.

This is not a listening meant to organize experience. It is not here to translate sensation into insight, or emotion into meaning. The Neptune gong holds ambiguity gently. If your inner world feels foggy, slow, distant, or undefined, nothing here needs to be fixed. The sound does not sharpen edges or demand coherence. It allows things to remain exactly as they are—unfinished, unnamed, unresolved.

If you’re new here, you may be wondering what trauma-informed sound actually means. You may be curious, cautious, hopeful, skeptical—or simply tired. You may be drawn to sound but unsure if it will feel safe. You may have tried healing spaces before and left feeling unseen, overwhelmed, or like you didn’t belong. This orientation is not here to convince you of anything.