Julie Jewels Smoot

My catalog includes a wide variety of listening experiences, from immersive ambient albums and lyrical songs to Chiron, Neptune, Venus, Jupiter, Heart, and Sidereal Moon Gong recordings. Whether you're looking for music to accompany yoga, meditation, gentle movement, creative work, or quiet relaxation, there is something designed to meet you where you are.

One of the defining characteristics of Julie Jewels Smoot's work is her trauma-informed approach. Her recordings are created with the understanding that every listener brings unique experiences to the music. Rather than directing emotions or requiring a specific response, the music invites listeners to engage in whatever way feels supportive. There is no pressure to meditate, relax, or process emotions in a prescribed way.

For many survivors, the yoni becomes a place where stories are stored. Stories of survival. Stories of loss. Stories of resilience. Stories that may never have been spoken aloud. The body remembers what the mind cannot always explain. The yoni remembers what words cannot always express.

The Spiral of Healing honors this sacred rhythm. The rhythm of growth that circles back again and again, each time offering a deeper understanding, a new perspective, or a greater capacity for compassion. There may be moments when grief returns. Moments when fear resurfaces. Moments when old memories feel unexpectedly close.

But through gentle unfolding. For many survivors, trauma can create a profound disconnection from the body and from the yoni. What was once a source of life, intuition, creativity, pleasure, and feminine wisdom may become associated with pain, fear, shame, grief, or survival. This disconnection is not failure.

Trust in the Journey was created for these moments. The moments when clarity feels far away. When progress seems slow or invisible. When the next step has not yet revealed itself. Trust is often easy when everything is going according to plan. When the destination is clear. When outcomes feel predictable. But the deepest trust is cultivated during uncertainty.

When trauma, loss, displacement, betrayal, or grief have touched a life, home can become something that feels distant. A place that once felt safe may no longer feel safe. A relationship that once felt secure may no longer exist. The longing remains. The search continues.

A serene sunset backdrop frames a reflective scene of sound and art therapy, emphasizing healing as a journey towards authenticity. A woman immersed in watercolor painting captures the essence of becoming fully oneself, surrounded by calming elements like candles and affirmations.

The seed does not become a tree overnight. Roots must form before branches can reach toward the sky. The foundation develops long before the growth becomes visible. The same is true for healing. The same is true for becoming. For many people, there is a desire to rush the process. To heal faster. To know more.

Yet there comes a point when understanding reveals something unexpected. Not every wound has a satisfying explanation. Not every loss makes sense. Not every betrayal can be neatly organized into a lesson. Sometimes the search for understanding leads us back to ourselves. The sounds within this composition explore that journey. The movement between questioning and acceptance.

Finding Peace in the Breath honors the understanding that healing does not always begin with dramatic transformation. Sometimes it begins with awareness. With slowing down enough to notice what has been present all along. The breath does not erase pain. It does not eliminate grief. It does not remove life's challenges.

Discovering Who I Am explores that sacred question. Not as a search for perfection. Not as a destination. But as an unfolding process of self-discovery. For many people, life begins with messages about who they should be. Who they should become. How they should act.

It is the ability to remain grounded while life unfolds in its own time. Anchored in Patience explores the quiet strength required to trust a process that cannot be rushed. Like an anchor resting beneath the surface of the water, patience provides stability during changing conditions. Storms may arrive. Waves may rise. Uncertainty may appear. Yet the anchor remains connected to something deeper.

You matter when you are strong. You matter when you are struggling. You matter when you are healing. You matter when you are uncertain. You matter when you are resting. You matter when no one else is watching. Your voice matters. Your story matters. Your healing matters. Your existence matters.

Too much overwhelm for the nervous system to process all at once. When trauma, loss, or chronic stress exceed our capacity to cope, the body often responds by creating distance. Sensations become muted. Emotions become difficult to access. Life can feel as though it is happening behind a pane of glass. This response is not weakness. It is protection.

The sacrum has long been regarded as a sacred bone—a foundation that supports movement, balance, and the connection between the upper and lower body. It sits quietly at the center, carrying both strength and flexibility, holding us upright while allowing us to move through the world. Yet for many people who have experienced trauma, chronic stress, grief, or disconnection from the body, awareness of this center can become distant. The body tightens.

Trust rarely disappears all at once. It fractures. A promise broken. A boundary ignored. A betrayal. A silence where support was needed. A moment when the world proves itself less safe than it once seemed. When trust shatters, the impact reaches far beyond a single relationship. It changes how we move through the world.

My Body Is My Home and Sacred Temple honors the journey of returning. Not returning to who you were before the trauma. Not returning to a perfect version of healing. But returning to the understanding that your body still belongs to you. This piece explores the possibility that the body is more than a container for wounds. More than a record of what happened. More than a place where pain resides. The body is also resilience.

In the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and what we deserve. For many survivors, healing begins when we stop asking, "What's wrong with me?" and begin asking, "What happened to me?" That shift changes everything. The threads begin to make sense. Not as evidence of weakness.

Shut Up and Listen to Survivors emerged from that frustration. Originally written as a poem, this piece was inspired by Julie Smoot's experience witnessing the disconnect between the voices of survivors and the institutions tasked with addressing military sexual trauma. The message is simple. If you want to understand what happens when military sexual trauma is reported, listen to the people who have lived it.