Julie Jewels Smoot

Someone may believe we should be ready to talk about an experience. Someone may encourage us to participate in an activity. Someone may suggest that we need to move beyond a particular fear.

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

Through my own experiences with military service, trauma, Complex PTSD, chronic pain, grief, and recovery, I have come to understand how important it is to have choices. Choices about my body. Choices about my environment. Choices about what I share. Choices about how I participate. And choices about what I want from a listening experience.

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.

We are encouraged to wake up early, work harder, exercise more, accomplish our goals, and keep moving toward the next achievement. Rest is often treated as something we earn after we have done enough. Slowing down can feel uncomfortable when we have spent years believing that our value is connected to how much we accomplish.

I have spent much of my life navigating expectations. Expectations about who I should be, how I should behave, what I should tolerate, how I should respond, and how quickly I should move forward from difficult experiences.

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 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.

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

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.

Countless meditation playlists .Countless “healing frequencies.” Countless creators asking listeners to transform, ascend, regulate, optimize, manifest, or become something else. Sound Alchemist Julie Jewels Smoot chose a different path. Her work does not ask people to perform healing.

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.

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.