I woke up once again feeling like a new, upgraded version of myself had stepped in overnight. I was still floating from the profound Kundalini experience of the evening before, slightly in disbelief that it had even happened. But the Universe, ever generous, quieted my doubts with signs and synchronicities throughout the day, confirmations that left me in quiet awe.
I felt the urge to share my experience with someone in the group, but decided to hold it sacred for now. This moment, the start of this awakening, was a divine secret I was still integrating. (This topic actually came up a couple of days later in one of our daily Q&A's)
We dove straight into another day of immersive Spinal Flow training, it was intense, hands-on and transformative. We learned how to extend the flow from the sacrum all the way to the cranium and back, using additional dura access points and sacral bolsters to support the movement of energy.
As a practitioner, it was fascinating to learn how something as simple as pressure, a firmer touch or the lightest stroke, could either stimulate or soothe the Energy and Nervous system. We practiced tracking where the flow became “stuck,” and then working gently with those areas to help energy move. It was like witnessing magic, watching the body shift and unwind layer by layer.
As the client, I felt those shifts firsthand. My body responded to the flow, guiding me in subtle ways to move and assist the energy. I could feel where the energy traveled and where it paused and where it struggled to move through, specifically around my throat, or the Passion Gateway, as it’s called in Spinal Flow.
I understood that healing happens in layers. The flow doesn’t force its way through, it moves only where the body is ready. I was deeply aware that this blockage was connected to life lessons I hadn’t yet fully embodied. And while Spinal Flow helps us clear away layers and heal what no longer serves, it also invites us to face what’s still being learned.
That day, our sessions were fast-paced, rotating between client, practitioner, and observer within a 60 minute block, give or take. Sometimes, that just wasn’t enough time to bring a flow to completion. That day I could feel my energy stalling at my throat, the flow unable to pass through fully. And although I longed for just one more session to help shift it at the end of the day, I knew this was part of the process.
In a real session, the body decides when the treatment is complete, not the clock. That’s something I love about this modality. We don’t treat by the minute. We treat the body until it says “enough for now" with the time intention we have set.
As the day progressed, I became more and more distracted. My focus was slipping. A heavy pressure began to form at the base of my skull, and soon, dizziness followed. During our last session of the day, reviewing client health forms, I had to excuse myself and step outside.
In the courtyard, emotion surged up suddenly and unexpectedly. Tears fell without a clear reason. I wasn’t in pain. Nothing had happened to trigger this wave. But I knew this was an energetic release, a block surfacing.
One of the training assistants came to check on me. I explained that I believed the discomfort wasn’t physical in the conventional sense, but energetic. She nodded gently and affirmed what I was feeling, Spinal Flow can surface stored emotions and long-held blocks, sometimes even long-forgotten memories.
And this is where many people give up on their healing.
Because sometimes… healing doesn’t feel like healing. It feels like breaking. Like unraveling. It feels like the symptoms are getting worse and you are backtracking.
But it’s part of the journey. A sacred, necessary part.
When you start clearing deeply, your body often brings unresolved trauma to the surface. That’s how it releases. And if we don’t understand this, we might mislabel it as failure, or assume the work isn’t “working.” But in truth, it’s a sign that it is working.
But this is also a choice, are we willing to fully see and confront what has surfaced. Or ignore and let it go back to a dormant state, to continue to fester until our bodies say stop in a different way.
This is why I’m so passionate about integration, embodiment, it’s everything. When I hold space for Breathwork, I always provide my clients with an integration workbook, and I plan to do the same for my Spinal Flow clients. Because you don’t just walk away after a session. You carry it with you. You live through it. And you need tools to support that journey.
That evening, I left the training early. I couldn’t focus, I had an intense headache. I was emotionally drained. Back in my hotel room, I closed the curtains, turned down the lights, and lay on the bed with my eyes closed.
I began to quietly scan my body, going through the sensations I was feeling. How would I describe this, what can I identify. And suddenly, I blurted out loud, “This feels exactly like my concussion". The memory hit hard.
A few years ago, my partner and I were in an Uber on a motorway in Dallas when a drunk driver slammed full speed into our car. We were stranded in Texas, far from home and support, disoriented, hurt, thrown into the whirlwind of what is the nightmare of the U.S. medical system. My partner was badly injured with broken ribs, and I was in full caretaking mode. I had no time or space to process the trauma I’d experienced, and I was working through the pain and confusion of a bad concussion, bruised whiplash, vertigo and nausea.
But now, my body was bringing it back. The dizziness, the stiff neck and head pressure, the emotional flood, it mirrored the exact concussion symptoms I’d had after that crash. This wasn’t random. It was a trauma still living in my body, and Spinal Flow had unearthed it, another layer, showing me it is time to release.
I didn’t have the capacity to “fix” it that night. But I acknowledged it, I held space for it. And I asked for a peaceful, healing sleep.
By morning, I wasn’t fully “healed,” nor did I expect it to be. But something had eased. I felt clearer, more grounded, and ready to return to another day of training. I trusted the process and I have come to trust my body and intuition, and I do my best to observe and let come what is ready to come and release.
Because this is what healing looks like sometimes.
It can be messy. It can be uncomfortable.
It can feel incomplete.
But it is moving.
Always moving.