The Truth Beneath the Silence

A young woman who had recently moved into my neighborhood needed to release unseen but deeply felt burdens from the past. I suggested we practice Wuji standing meditation, in which one stands in a state of relaxed stillness, mirroring the stillness of the void. It’s a method that cultivates tranquility, balance, and energy flow—like a tree, deeply rooted in the earth while also reaching toward the sky. This practice allows the body to let go of what no longer serves it, restoring balance.

We found a tree and stood beside it.

She closed her eyes and placed her feet firmly on the ground, embodying the quiet resilience of nature. I worked with her energy, clearing blockages where I could. But deep in her lower abdomen, something from the distant past remained—an energy insistent on not leaving. It was not something I could remove alone. I called for help.

Higher beings respond only when the energy is open and clear. I prepared the space, and in no time, the Lady of the Womb appeared. She was a guardian of the feminine, a healer beyond human comprehension. She had worked miracles before, but it had been a long time since I had seen her.

The moment she arrived, all the audible sounds ceased. The wind stopped. The world around us seemed to pause. The air thickened, embracing and enveloping both my client and myself. The Lady of the Womb approached soundlessly. With effortless precision, her skillful hands entered my client’s abdomen—not physically, but in a way beyond the material world—and began her work.

She never showed her face—not then, not now. There was no expression, no emotion—only the overwhelming presence of unconditional, compassionate energy. She moved with quiet certainty.

As she worked, an almost imperceptible hum filled the space, a gentle vibration resonating deeply. The energy swirled in delicate yet precise movements, spiraling through the space. Her hands reached deep within my client’s abdomen as though stitching something unseen, repairing a wound that had never fully healed.

At first, my client’s body resisted. Her breath caught. Her muscles tensed. But then, as if something deep inside had finally surrendered, she let out a long, slow exhale. Her body softened. A warmth spread outward from her abdomen, dissolving knots of the past. Her chest sank lower as though shedding something heavy, something buried long ago. Her body trembled—not in fear, but like the earth trembles before new growth emerges.

And then, as suddenly as she had come, the Lady of the Womb disappeared. No farewell, no backward glance. Her face remained a secret. Her task was complete, like a conductor concluding a symphony with a final, graceful crescendo.

Later, I asked my client if she had any issues with her womb. She hesitated before answering. At first, she said no. But then, a long-buried memory surfaced.

When puberty arrived, it came as a shock. She had never wanted to be a girl. As a child, she had felt more comfortable in the role of a boy—to please her father, perhaps in an attempt to earn her father’s attention. She had embraced this role, rejecting her own body, disowning the womb she was given. But when her body changed, she could no longer run from it.

When we reject parts of ourselves, physically or emotionally, the energy in those places stagnates. It waits, unhealed, manifesting as imbalance or illness. By restoring the flow, the Lady of the Womb may have prevented something before it could take form.

A few days later, I saw my client again. She looked different, not just lighter, but aligned, as though something had finally clicked into place. Now that she had embraced herself, love could flow naturally, unrestricted.

That day, she confided in me. A suspicion had haunted her for years: Had her father molested her as a child? When she confronted him, he denied it. Also, a psychic had once told her that a metallic object was lodged in her womb. To uncover the truth, we would have to go deeper—into the heart’s space where the past reveals itself.

It was time to go deeper.

We began with her lungs. From the moment we met, I sensed a deep sadness within her—a sorrow embedded in her breath. The lungs hold grief, and when sadness lingers, it can create stagnation. Though her sorrow was not always at the surface, it ran deep. As we worked, the weight within her began to lift. With each breath, the heaviness eased, and a great release took place.

Once the lungs were clear, we turned to the womb.

My client felt an unpleasant energy in the area, tied to both past and present. We focused on the past first. To my astonishment, the psychic had been right. There it was—a metallic hook from a hanger, tangled within the walls of her womb.

The Lady of the Womb had cleared its energetic remnants, but a deeper imprint lingered. That, too, had to be released. It was old, ancient, from another life, a sense of suffering buried in time.

I say ancient because my client suddenly began speaking in an archaic language—words I had never heard before. The sound of it was mesmerizing. It reminded me of the Old English classes I once took in university—as if something had been pulled from forgotten texts.

I asked her to repeat what she was saying, but she couldn’t. It had come from somewhere beyond conscious memory.

As we worked to remove the last remnants of its energy, a vision surfaced—revealing its purpose. The hook had once been an instrument of abortion, used in a life far before this one. And the one who had used it was her father! The truth struck deep. She gasped, then yawned deeply—again and again—until the tension finally dissolved. A deep spaciousness spread through her womb. She had been freed from a past she had never known she was carrying.

We left the womb and journeyed to the heart and then to the heart’s space. The heart’s space is accessed through the heart itself, making the heart not just a physical organ but a doorway to deep spiritual and emotional awareness. It is a passage to many dimensions. It holds every memory we have ever experienced. It allows us to revisit what was and see what still needs healing.

At first, the heart was buried deep, hidden, unwilling to be seen. But once we cleared the space, it opened. She saw herself: a little girl crying in loneliness. We asked the child why she felt so alone.

She was yearning for a motherly touch.

We invited the mother into the scene. Her presence had been absent—not out of cruelty but from the weight of life itself. She had been too busy. In fact, she had been hiding from her husband’s terror, so she kept herself busy.

With understanding came reconciliation. Mother and child, once distant, were now connected again. This bonding would bring their relationship closer in real life.

But one final piece remained.

Her father.

At first, she hesitated to connect with him. She feared he would overshadow the bond she had just rebuilt with her mother. But she had to confront him.

‘Did you molest me?’ Her voice echoed in the room.

He admitted it.

The truth could have shattered her, but we held the space for her. Shockingly, her mother had known, too. She had witnessed it but, out of fear, had shut her eyes to what she saw. My client had long suspected that her father was infatuated with her—as if he were obsessed. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t protection. It was a fixation that had cast a shadow over her childhood. She could finally see it for what it was.

I guided her to release the emotional burden of the event—not to erase the memory, but to free herself from its grip. We remember past events by attaching emotions, but once the emotional charge is removed, the memory itself loses power.

The negativity cleared, the emotional charge lifted, and the past loosened its grip, fading into something distant and weightless.

Finally, we invited her sister into the healing space. There had been unresolved tension between them since childhood. Now, the entire constellation of her family was complete.

As the final energy settled, she exhaled deeply.

‘I feel supported,’ she said. For the first time in a long time, she was free.

Not long after the session, her phone started lighting up with messages. One by one, family members reached out to ask how she was doing. It felt as if something had shifted beyond just her—like the session had set unseen forces in motion. The first signs of healing had already begun to appear.

Once again, I was reminded of the beauty of being a catalyst for healing. Life is full of miracles, but sometimes, we must first clear the path for them to arrive. Healing isn’t just about letting go. It’s about making peace with the past and moving forward feeling lighter and whole.

With her heart open and her womb restored, my client could now walk into life with newfound clarity, balance, and lightness. Sometimes, the greatest miracle is not in what we receive but in what we are finally able to release.

When I asked if I could write her breathtaking story, she didn’t hesitate; she wanted it to be told, not for herself but for those still carrying unseen wounds. If her healing could light the way for even one person, then sharing it felt like a duty—an opportunity to give meaning to her journey and offer hope to those still carrying unseen wounds so they wouldn’t have to struggle alone.