I hear a calling—a persistent, almost foreign voice urging me toward a way of being that feels unlike anything I’ve known. It challenges how I’ve engaged with myself and my body in a way that once felt natural but steeped in disconnection. For so long I lived in a state of separation from my body, overwhelmed by the sense that my mind and body were at odds.

To release tension, we need to practice directing our awareness inward. Often, we stay focused on external distractions or internal thoughts, neglecting the subtle sensations in our bodies. However, slowing down and intentionally moving our focus to a specific area allows us to feel the muscles, ligaments, and energetic flow within.

When energy enters my awareness, I want my body to feel safe, expand, and allow it to flow rather than resist or contract. This doesn’t mean denying or ignoring the energy; it means meeting it with neutrality and curiosity. Whether it’s the pain of someone’s trauma or the joy of a hummingbird’s visit, I want to remain centered in myself, letting the energy pass through without destabilizing me.

We carry so much distrust—toward others, toward life, and even toward our bodies. This distrust creates tension. Every time we feel let down or betrayed, we brace ourselves, tightening our muscles and protecting ourselves from further harm. These protective mechanisms become embedded, creating patterns of tension and disconnection in the body.

Lately, I’ve been wrestling with this cloudy and pervasive sense of energy that seems tied to my entire being. It’s as if every cell in my body holds a part of it, a deeply ingrained memory or learned pattern. Trying to dissolve this energy is unfamiliar and challenging. It feels like I’m trying to untangle something woven into the fabric of who I am.