A Place Beyond Words
If you’re moving through a transition or an inner unraveling, this piece offers an invitation to a resting place — a doorway back to the quiet field beneath language. Here, you reconnect with somatic wisdom, intuition, and the deeper truth that has always lived in you. For those who feel “too much,” “ too deep,” “too sensitive,” or out of place in systems that overlook the soul, this is a gentle reminder that your way of sensing and being is not only valid but needed.
There are moments in life where words stop working — when nothing you tell yourself brings clarity, and the mind feels too full, too fast, or too loud. If you're in a time like that now — a transition, an unraveling, a healing, or a quiet inner shift you can't yet name — I want to offer you this. Not an answer, not a teaching, but a place to rest your being for a moment. A place you can feel rather than figure out.
In those moments, the pace of the world can feel strangely out of sync with what’s happening inside you. Life moves fast, and sometimes the train is rushing by and all you can do is hold on, trying not to lose yourself in the blur. But when you slow down inside even slightly, when you pause long enough to feel your feet, or your breath, or the quiet ache beneath your thoughts, something shifts. Your perception widens. Your truth begins to surface. You start to feel and see again — not with the eyes of doing, but with the eyes of being.
There is a place beneath language, beneath ideas, beneath internalised stories you've been told about who you are and who you should be. It isn't reached through effort. It's felt and sensed. You know you are in it and connected with it, just the way you know when sunlight lands on your skin. It is the home of your deeper truth — a space you can consciously turn to when life becomes uncertain, when the ground shifts beneath your feet, when you are healing, unraveling, transforming, or simply in the process of coming home to yourself again. And from that quieter field beneath thought and story, something in you begins to soften open and a deeper knowing can naturally emerge.
Allow yourself to trust your own knowing and being. You can find it not by adding more, doing more, or forcing clarity, but by listening inward. By being present with what is and stepping away from the noise, the frameworks and the pressure, and entering the space between the spaces. Your body and soul already know the way. Your nervous system shows you — can you feel the exhale of release?
This isn’t a path of doing or learning, but of remembering. There is a well of wisdom deep inside you, always available, waiting for you to return. You didn’t have to learn how to breathe, how to feel, or how to sense truth. Trust the knowing that’s already there, even if it feels different or doesn’t yet have a voice.
Trust that you don’t need to make sense of your inner knowing within systems shaped without honouring the soul, the unseen, or the ancient intelligence that lives in all things. Many of us learned to survive in these systems — and many of us still do. They forgot relationship, slowness, reciprocity — the sacred — and with it, your deep inner authority, your sovereign knowing, your original life-spark. We are streamlined into doing and functioning, yet what these systems call “functioning” often has nothing to do with being fully alive. And being fully alive is your birthright.
When you start seeing the shape of what held you — what you adapted to, what you carried without knowing — there is often grief. Or rage. Or feelings without names. This isn’t breaking down; it’s breaking open. The old world loosens.
Stay present as more of your truth comes forward. You may feel alone in this, even if you’re not. And if what’s unfolding feels like too much to hold on your own, it’s completely natural to reach for support — sometimes new people arrive who can meet the version of you that’s emerging. Those who knew the old you might need time to catch up. That doesn’t mean you’re lost — it means you’re finding your way. And as you stay with these inner shifts, allowing yourself to follow what resonates in your heart, a wider sense of belonging often begins to rise.
You belong to something older and wiser than our man-made systems. You are part of the universe — sensing, expanding, spiralling outward and inward again. So take some time to shift and play with perspectives. Allow yourself to feel from different lenses. Use the instrument of your body to show you the way — follow the yes, the resonance. You can explore this widening through gentle imaginal shifts — simple questions that let your perception move in new ways. Ask yourself:
What would a zebra sense right now?
What might a fish see?
What might a snail feel as it feels the world through its whole body?
What might the world be like from the stillness of a rock?
What if you could see yourself through the eyes of the dragonfly, who begins its life underwater, then climbs into the air, shedding a whole world behind as it breaks open into wings — a creature who remembers both the depths and the sky and transforms by instinct, not instruction.
These aren't silly questions. They're portals back to the intelligence that predates language and theory. Your body already knows how to be a living being. You are not here to flatten your aliveness to fit into structures that were never built for sensitivity, reciprocity, intuition, or soul.
You, too, are allowed to become what you have always been. You don't need another framework. You need less of them. Perhaps you need space to be illegible for a while. To not have it all figured out. To be messy, contradictory, still unfolding. This is not about adding one more thing. This is the moment to trust that the confusion itself holds intelligence. That not knowing is its own kind of knowing.
This isn’t theoretical for me. I know this terrain because I’ve lived it. My journey with this has been over decades. As a child I was pressed into shapes that didn't fit. Writing has always lived in me, but I learned that it wasn’t something that I was doing right. My sentences were unclear and my thoughts and attention arrived in spirals rather than linear lines. My body wanted to move as I wrote. As I was learning to shape letters, I had stories of the stars to tell as I wrongly joined the dots. There was no space to deepen into what I was wanting to share and it was made wrong. And so it slipped away — folded into the belief that I had to hide my thoughts and that writing simply wasn't something I could do, just as language never seemed to be either.
It took decades, and a long walk through living uprooted in different countries, learning professions that made me feel ill without knowing why or what else my soul longed for. When I finally found mindfulness and somatic psychotherapy, I thought I had arrived — that I had found a professional home. But another unraveling came: chronic illness, menopause, and a deeper awakening that showed me what was actually calling. A different way of knowing. The wisdom of the spaces in-between. Deep inner listening. Gentle knowing without words. My truth didn’t make sense inside the systems and frameworks it was being received in. I had to give myself permission.
If you've been told you are too sensitive, too reactive, too complex, too deep, too much — what if you are not? What if you’ve been reading the room perfectly all along, responding to what others learned to ignore?
At 53, I can finally say with tenderness instead of apology: what I am in that place of deeper truth is needed, even if it doesn't make sense. I am here. And you, too, are needed — perhaps in ways you don't yet know how to name.
This place beyond words is not metaphor. It is a real inner field — a real source that can become your guide. It always has been and you can remember how to listen. Think of it as the bottom of a well where the water is ancient and untouched, or the centre of the universe where everything pulses from silence. Words can point to it, but your experience is what lets you enter and know.
When you become present to who you truly are, you can begin to live who you truly are. This is sacred growth — not because it is dramatic, but because it is real. If you find yourself returning to the quiet, the ache, the not-knowing, the deep sensing, know this: nothing is wrong. Nothing is missing. Nothing is too late. You are meeting yourself again. And that meeting is the place where your magic begins.
After you read this, before you move on — place one hand on your heart. Feel it beating. A pulse that needs no right to be, it just is. Let that be your beginning, over and over again, like I make it mine
Trauma-informed intuitive guide and soulful embodiment coach with a background rooted in science and spirit.
Your energy and presence are gifts to share with the world — even if they are deeply quiet. They are the very fuel that helps you transform your life and truly flourish.
You can tap into this when you ground in the essence of being you.
That’s what this blog is here to hold: reflections from my own long journey home to myself, interwoven with the insights I’ve gained through years of lived experience and training.
Warmly, Julia
Author’s note:
This piece is touched by many lineages — somatic psychotherapy, Hakomi presence, the body-poetry of sound and movement, mentors who widened my perception, and the quiet guidance of the invisible realm. The invitation to see through the eyes of other beings was inspired by Susan Harper. These influences weave through my long journey home to myself and into all that I offer. I share this writing in gratitude for every teacher, known and unknown, who helped shape this inner landscape.