Part 3 - Coming Home to Safety: Releasing the Vigilance & Trusting Yourself Again
- 3 days ago
- 4 min read
When I say "home," I mean three things:
Your body. The first place you ever lived. Still speaking. Still waiting.
Your nervous system. The guardian that learned to scan for danger, and never got the memo that you're safe now.
The witness. The part of you that has watched it all, and never once left.
Coming home means the body softens. The vigilance rests.
You remember who you were before the world told you to brace and watch out!
And the beautiful truth?
Your body already knows the way.
If you've been following this series, you already know:
The restlessness, the scanning, the inability to fully arrive... these weren't flaws. They were intelligent strategies your nervous system learned to survive.
In Part 1, we named the pattern: attachment to uncertainty.
In Part 2, we traced it into the body.
Now, in Part 3, we arrive at the question beneath it all:
What would it feel like to truly feel safe?
Not because you've controlled every variable. But safe in your own skin. Safe in stillness. Safe in not knowing.
What My Body Taught Me About Safety
For years, I carried tension I knew held a story.
My right thigh, always braced. Always ready to run. Even in stillness, it would tense... and seconds after I relaxed it, it would tense again. It wasn't a muscle habit. It was a vigilance habit. My body was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
My left shoulder and neck, a mountain of condensed distortions. Not random pain. Compressed truth. Every word I'd swallowed. Every time I'd chosen English over French. Every laugh I'd muted to fit in.
My teeth, vibrating on the day of the Lunar Eclipse, as if my bones were tuning to a frequency I'd forgotten.
And then there was the day I sat with my French cousins. Laughing, loud, unapologetic.
I realized: I've been diluting myself for years. Speaking in a borrowed tongue.
The tension wasn't the problem. The tension was the messenger.
What Safety Actually Feels Like
Safety is not a destination. It's a frequency you learn to recognize.
And for those of us shaped by uncertainty, safety is quiet. Ease is soft and deep. It doesn't announce itself.
Safety feels like:
The thigh finally softening. Not because you forced it, but because you listened
Laughing without monitoring how loud you are
Speaking your mother tongue even if it's less "popular"
Stillness, and noticing the buzzing has... quieted
A choice made from knowing, not fear
Safety is not the absence of discomfort. It's knowing you are there with yourself. Witnessing, holding, not abandoning YOU in the hard moment.
How the Body Shows Us the Way Home
When you stop trying to fix the tension and start listening, the body speaks.
My right thigh, when I asked "What are you waiting for?" showed me a memory of laughter. It wasn't waiting for danger. It was waiting for permission to play.
My left shoulder, when I asked "What are you holding?" revealed decades of swallowed words. When I let myself say them, even silently, the mountain began to thin.
This is not metaphor. This is how the body works. It holds what the mind can't yet process; and releases when it's finally safe.
The Practice: Coming Home to Safety
Three practices that have helped me:
1. Gentle Movement with Presence
Move slowly. Roll your shoulders. Sway. Stretch what wants to stretch... and be with it.
Ask: "What wants to move through me today?"
Notice what arises. A yawn, a sigh, a softening.
P.S. This is exactly what we do in Sacred Start and the participants often share some insights they thought they never had. The energy circulation gently brought to the surface what was ready to be released.
2. The Body Scan with a Question
Bring awareness to any tension. Instead of trying to relax it, ask:
"What do you need me to know?"
Wait. The first thing that comes... a word, an image, a feeling, is the answer.
3. The "Aaaaah" Practice
When you notice tension, make the sound Aaaaah.
Not a word. Just sound. Let it be loud or soft.
I did this on the day of the Eclipse. What came out was the sound of a mountain dissolving.
(Aaaaah is the healing sound of the heart.)
The Deeper Truth
I've been where you are.
I've doubted my path. I've sat in the gap between who I was and who I'm becoming, and felt certain I was failing.
But here's what I know now:
The gap is not failure. The gap is the birthplace.
The French woman didn't emerge because I fixed myself. She emerged because I finally listened.
The thigh didn't release because I found the perfect technique. It released because I laughed.
The mountain didn't dissolve because I worked on it. It dissolved because I gave it sound.
What Your Body Is Asking of You
If you've read this far, something in you recognizes this territory.
You are not broken. You are not behind. You are not doing this wrong.
Your body has been waiting for you, patiently. Simply waiting for the day you were ready to listen.
That day can be today.
Coming Home to Safety Is Not a Destination
It's a practice. A return. A thousand small choices to stay present when the old pattern says scan and watch out! ... And you don't have to do it alone.
If this series stirred something in you, there's a place to take it deeper.
🌸 Only 1 Spot Remains
A Spring Equinox RetreatMarch 20th @ HIRA Wellness Centre
A full day of soulful and gentle activities like Qigong, breathwork, Oversoul Reflection, spa integration, and the quiet magic of resetting with the season.
If something in you says yes, trust it.
✨ Ongoing Offerings
Sacred Start – A morning practice space to begin each day grounded. Four weeks of gentle rhythm.
Oversoul Reflections – Personalized insight reports to uncover the deeper truths behind your patterns.
Both are always open to you.
The Final Word
You are safe to release the need to scan.
You are safe to stop performing for peace.
You are safe to choose coherence.
And when you forget, come back to this:
The thigh knows how to relax.
The voice knows its mother tongue.
The body knows the way home.
You just have to listen.
With love,
Julie
Coming soon:
Coming Home to Yourself: A four-retreat series for the body, mind, heart, and soul. (April to July @ HIRA)
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