Bilateral stimulation sound healing.

​Closed eyes, electromagnetic waves of blue flickering behind my lashes—gentle pulses glowing inside my mind. Humming vibrations, stirring memories like sharp pine needles caught in a spiraling current. The past rises, restless as dry leaves lifted by the wind, spinning in each shallow breath of grief before settling back to the earth. Energy fertilizes deeply planted seeds with an earthy exhale, the scent of damp soil and weathered bark wrapping around each inhale, grounding, softening. 

A quiet pulse, a shifting rhythm. A subtle illumination stretching beyond the edges of thought, casting with it warmth and affirmation, a reminder that stillness is not stagnation—it's renewal.

Tones move like whispers, traveling through marrow and memory. Dissolving tension, loosening the knots of the past, clearing space for new roots to take hold.

Dirt does not resist the rain—it softens, drinks, transforms. Healing is not erasure—it's blending each drop of awareness, sinking in, nourishing, becoming. A river finding its way home.