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.

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.

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.

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 to yourself does not have to be intense. Sometimes it is as simple as realizing, “I am tired,” or “I want to make something,” or “I would like to be quiet for a while.”

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.

Tranquil healing space adorned with musical instruments and soft lighting, emphasizing silent recovery: "Your pain does not need an audience to be real. You are allowed to heal without explaining, proving, or performing." There is a difference between having pain and performing pain so that someone else will believe you. There is a difference between sharing because you want to and sharing because you feel you have to prove that what happened was bad enough. There is a differ

You don’t have to tell every detail of your story in order to heal. Healing can happen through sound, movement, breath, rest, silence, creativity, boundaries, and simply learning to listen to what your body needs. You can feel without explaining. You can heal without performing your pain. You can share what feels right and keep the rest for yourself. Your story belongs to you. Your body belongs to you. You decide who gets access.

Loving your body does not have to begin with looking in the mirror and loving everything you see. It does not require confidence every day. It does not require you to feel beautiful. It does not require you to celebrate every change your body has experienced.

I am allowed to move at my own pace. I listen to my body without judgment. My body is worthy of being heard. I do not have to force myself to relax. I can rest without earning my rest. Nothing is required of me in this moment. I give myself permission to simply be. My breath does not need to be perfect. I can notice without needing to change anything. I trust myself to recognize what I need. My boundaries are worthy of respect. I am allowed to say no. I am allowed to choose w

They witness people at vulnerable moments, hold therapeutic space, pay attention to what is spoken and what remains unsaid, complete documentation, transition between clients, and then somehow return to their own lives at the end of the day.

Reflecting on Inner Wisdom: How Our Bodies Sense Before Our Minds Comprehend.

Movement is often associated with effort. We hear messages that encourage us to move faster, work harder, lift more, and push beyond our limits. Exercise is frequently measured by intensity, calories burned, or personal records achieved. But movement does not always have to be demanding to be meaningful. Sometimes the most healing movement is also the gentlest. A slow stretch after waking. A mindful walk beneath the trees. Rolling your shoulders after hours at a desk. Moving

A serene stack of stones balances on a tranquil beach as the sun sets over the ocean, symbolizing peace and healing.

Healing through sound is a gentle process. It works on many levels - physical, emotional, and spiritual. When you experience Julie Jewels Smoot sound practices, you may notice a softening of stress and anxiety. Your body may feel lighter, your mind clearer.

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.