Balance Is Not a Destination—It Is a Dynamic Process
What does it mean to live in balance? Balance is often conceptualized as a state to be achieved—a point at which competing demands are perfectly managed and life feels consistently stable. From a clinical perspective, however, psychological balance is better understood as a dynamic process of ongoing self-regulation and adaptation. It is not a static condition, but the capacity to respond flexibly to internal and external stressors while maintaining overall well-being.
Human functioning depends on the interplay of multiple systems—physiological, emotional, cognitive, relational, and behavioral. When one domain consistently receives disproportionate attention, dysregulation often follows. Chronic stress, excessive productivity, insufficient rest, or prolonged emotional suppression can contribute to symptoms of anxiety, depression, burnout, and feelings of disconnection from oneself and others.
Contemporary neuroscience and trauma research suggest that resilience is not characterized by the absence of stress, but by the ability to return to a state of relative equilibrium following periods of activation. In other words, psychological health is less about avoiding imbalance and more about cultivating the capacity for restoration and self-correction.
Balance does not imply equal distribution of time or energy across all areas of life. Rather, it requires attunement to changing circumstances and the flexibility to prioritize what is most necessary in a given season. Periods of increased professional demand, caregiving responsibilities, grief, or healing may require different allocations of attention and resources. Adaptive functioning involves recognizing these shifts and responding accordingly.
Evidence-based practices that support psychological balance include:
Regular physical activity, which promotes emotional regulation and stress reduction.
Adequate sleep and recovery, essential for cognitive and physiological functioning.
Time spent in natural environments, which has been associated with reduced stress and improved mood.
Healthy interpersonal boundaries and meaningful social connection.
Mindfulness and reflective practices that enhance self-awareness and emotional regulation.
Self-compassion, which has been shown to reduce shame and support resilience during periods of stress.
Importantly, periods of disequilibrium should not be viewed as indicators of failure. Fluctuations in functioning are inherent to the human experience. The goal is not to maintain constant stability, but to develop the awareness and capacity to recognize when we have moved outside our optimal range and engage in practices that facilitate a return to balance.
Ultimately, balance is not the absence of stress or struggle. It is the ongoing process of maintaining flexibility, supporting self-regulation, and adapting to life's inevitable changes in ways that promote psychological and physiological well-being.
Reflection
Rather than asking, "How do I maintain perfect balance?" a more clinically useful question may be, "What do I need in this moment to restore regulation and support my overall well-being?"
Nature as a Catalyst for Expanded Awareness
How Time Outdoors Affects Consciousness and Well-Being
For most of human history, our ancestors lived immersed in the natural world. They woke with the sun, moved across varied landscapes, and remained intimately connected to the rhythms of seasons, weather, and ecosystems. Today, however, many people spend the majority of their lives indoors, surrounded by screens, artificial lighting, and constant digital stimulation.
As rates of anxiety, depression, and chronic stress continue to rise, researchers are increasingly asking an important question: What happens to human consciousness when we become disconnected from nature?
The answer may reveal that nature is far more than a pleasant backdrop for recreation. It may be one of the most powerful catalysts for expanded awareness, psychological well-being, and healing.
The Attention Restoration Effect
Modern environments place enormous demands on our attention. Emails, notifications, traffic, advertisements, and endless streams of information continually compete for our focus. This constant cognitive load can leave us mentally fatigued and emotionally depleted.
Natural environments appear to have the opposite effect.
Environmental psychologists have proposed the Attention Restoration Theory, which suggests that nature gently captures our attention without overwhelming it. Watching waves roll onto shore, observing leaves move in the wind, or listening to birdsong engages the mind in what researchers call "soft fascination." Unlike digital stimulation, these experiences allow the brain's directed attention systems to rest and recover.
As mental noise quiets, many people report feeling more present, aware, and connected to their surroundings.
From Thinking to Experiencing
One of the defining characteristics of modern consciousness is overthinking.
Many individuals spend much of their day lost in thoughts about the past, worries about the future, or endless internal narratives. While reflection is an important human capacity, excessive mental activity can contribute to anxiety, depression, and feelings of disconnection.
Nature invites a different mode of consciousness.
When we walk through a forest, watch a sunset, or run along a trail, our attention naturally shifts toward direct sensory experience. We begin noticing the feeling of wind against our skin, the rhythm of our breath, the scent of pine trees, or the sound of water moving over rocks.
In these moments, awareness expands beyond thought. Rather than analyzing life, we begin experiencing it.
Nature and the Nervous System
From a trauma-informed perspective, nature offers something equally important: nervous system regulation.
The human stress response evolved in natural environments. Our brains and bodies developed in relationship with green spaces, open landscapes, and natural rhythms. As a result, many natural settings appear to signal safety to the nervous system.
Research has found that spending time in nature can reduce stress hormones, lower blood pressure, improve mood, and decrease physiological markers of stress.
When the nervous system shifts out of chronic survival mode, consciousness often changes as well. People frequently report feeling calmer, more grounded, and more connected to themselves and others.
This shift is particularly relevant for individuals recovering from trauma, whose awareness may become narrowed by hypervigilance and threat detection. Nature can help create the conditions for a broader, more flexible experience of consciousness.
Awe and Expanded Awareness
Perhaps one of nature's most profound effects is its ability to evoke awe.
Standing beneath a canopy of ancient trees, gazing at a mountain range, or watching the night sky can produce a sense of wonder that feels larger than the self.
Psychologists have found that awe experiences often reduce self-focused thinking and increase feelings of connection, meaning, and belonging.
In these moments, personal worries may temporarily recede. Awareness expands beyond individual concerns and into a larger sense of participation in life itself.
Many people describe these experiences as deeply healing—not because their problems disappear, but because their perspective changes.
Reconnecting With What We Are
The growing field of ecopsychology suggests that many forms of psychological suffering may be linked, at least in part, to our separation from the natural world.
Humans are not separate from nature; we are expressions of it.
When we spend time outdoors, we often experience more than relaxation. We remember something fundamental about ourselves. We reconnect with rhythms that existed long before smartphones, social media, and modern schedules.
Nature invites us out of distraction and into presence.
It quiets mental chatter, regulates the nervous system, restores attention, and creates opportunities for awe. In doing so, it expands consciousness—not by adding something new, but by helping us reconnect with a deeper awareness that has been there all along.
Lucid Dreaming and PTSD: Reclaiming Agency While You Sleep
For many people living with PTSD, sleep is anything but restful. Nightmares, hypervigilance, and repeated awakenings can turn the night into an extension of the trauma itself. Yet emerging research suggests that one unusual phenomenon—lucid dreaming—may offer a pathway toward healing.
Lucid dreaming occurs when a person becomes aware that they are dreaming while still asleep. In some cases, the dreamer can even influence or change the dream narrative. What was once considered a fringe topic has increasingly become the subject of serious neuroscientific research, particularly for its potential role in treating trauma-related nightmares. A recent study by Delorme and colleagues explored the relationship between lucid dreaming and sleep characteristics in individuals experiencing chronic PTSD symptoms. Their findings offer intriguing insights into how the sleeping brain may support recovery from trauma.
What the Researchers Found
The study analyzed more than 160 nights of sleep data collected from participants with PTSD symptoms using portable EEG devices that measured brain activity during sleep. Researchers compared nights in which participants reported lucid dreams with nights in which they did not.
Several sleep patterns stood out.
First, individuals who fell asleep more quickly were more likely to experience lucid dreams. Longer sleep onset latency—the amount of time it takes to fall asleep—was associated with a lower likelihood of lucidity.
Second, lucid dreaming was associated with more fragmented sleep. Participants who spent more time awake after initially falling asleep were more likely to report lucid dreams. While disrupted sleep is often viewed negatively, these brief awakenings may increase awareness during transitions between sleep stages, creating conditions that support lucidity.
Finally, researchers found that lucid dreaming was associated with lower levels of delta brainwave activity during REM sleep. Lower delta activity may reflect a state of heightened awareness within the dream, allowing the dreamer to recognize that they are dreaming.
Why This Matters for Trauma Survivors
PTSD often disrupts sleep in profound ways. Many trauma survivors experience chronic insomnia, difficulty falling asleep, nightmares, and repeated awakenings throughout the night. These symptoms are frequently viewed as obstacles to recovery.
Yet this study suggests a more nuanced picture. Some of the very sleep disruptions that characterize PTSD may also create opportunities for lucid dreaming. When individuals become aware they are dreaming, they may be able to interact differently with traumatic dream content rather than experiencing it as helpless victims.
Imagine a recurring nightmare in which a person is chased, trapped, or overwhelmed. Within a lucid dream, that same individual may recognize, "This is a dream." That moment of awareness can create enough psychological distance to change the experience. Some dreamers report confronting threatening figures, asking questions of dream characters, transforming frightening scenes, or simply waking themselves up.
From a trauma-informed perspective, these experiences may represent something deeply important: the restoration of agency.
Lucid Dreaming and Reclaiming Agency
One of the hallmarks of traumatic experiences is a profound loss of control. Trauma often leaves individuals feeling powerless, disconnected from themselves, and trapped in patterns of fear long after the original event has ended.
Healing frequently involves reclaiming a sense of choice, self-efficacy, and connection. In this way, lucid dreaming may offer more than symptom relief. It may provide a unique opportunity to practice agency in a space where traumatic memories often continue to play out.
Unlike traditional exposure-based therapies, lucid dreaming occurs within the dream state itself. Individuals can engage with difficult emotions and imagery while remaining aware that they are safe. This awareness may help reduce fear and create new experiences of mastery within previously overwhelming dream scenarios.
An Integrative Mental Health Perspective
As interest in integrative approaches to mental health continues to grow, lucid dreaming occupies an interesting intersection of neuroscience, consciousness research, and trauma healing.
The findings from this study suggest that sleep is not simply a passive state where symptoms emerge. It may also be a space where healing processes unfold. Understanding the relationship between sleep architecture, brain activity, and awareness during dreams could eventually help clinicians develop new approaches to nightmare treatment and trauma recovery.
While more research is needed, lucid dreaming offers a compelling possibility: that within the very dreams that haunt us may exist opportunities for transformation.
For trauma survivors, healing often begins with the realization that they are no longer powerless. Lucid dreaming may provide one more avenue for discovering that truth—even while asleep.
References
Delorme, A., Yount, G., Jaoude, M. A., Aimone, C., Taddeo, S., Stumbrys, T., Cannard, C., & Wahbeh, H. Lucid Dreaming and Sleep Characteristics in PTSD.
Running, Flow State, and Mental Health: When We Stop Thinking and Start Being
It happened on a run recently.
Nothing extraordinary was happening. There was no personal best, no breakthrough workout, no dramatic moment of triumph. I was simply moving through my neighborhood, my feet hitting the pavement in a familiar rhythm. Somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking about the emails I needed to answer, the tasks waiting at home, and the endless list of things demanding my attention.
I became absorbed in the run itself.
The sound of my breath. The feeling of my body moving. The sensation of the sun on my skin. Time seemed to disappear. This is my favorite part of running.
Psychologists call this a flow state.
First described by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, flow is a state of deep immersion in an activity. During flow, attention becomes fully focused on the present moment. Self-consciousness fades, distractions fall away, and performance often feels effortless, even when the task itself is challenging.
For runners, flow can feel almost magical. Yet what is happening is grounded in neuroscience.
When we enter a flow state, activity in parts of the prefrontal cortex temporarily decreases, a phenomenon researchers sometimes refer to as transient hypofrontality. This reduction in activity quiets the mental chatter that often dominates our lives—the inner critic, the constant planning, the worries about the future, and the replaying of the past.
For many of us, especially those struggling with anxiety, depression, trauma, or chronic stress, that mental chatter can be exhausting.
Flow offers a brief but powerful reprieve.
Running is uniquely suited to creating the conditions for flow. It provides a clear goal—keep moving forward. It offers immediate feedback through breathing, pace, and bodily sensations. It requires enough challenge to engage us but, when matched to our abilities, not so much challenge that we become overwhelmed.
This balance is key.
Flow tends to occur when the demands of an activity closely match our skill level. Too little challenge leads to boredom. Too much challenge leads to anxiety. But in that sweet spot between the two, something remarkable can happen.
We become fully present.
From a mental health perspective, this matters.
Many of the clients I work with describe feeling trapped in their heads. They are constantly analyzing, anticipating, and managing. Trauma survivors often remain vigilant, scanning for danger even when they are objectively safe. Individuals struggling with depression may become caught in cycles of rumination, repeatedly revisiting painful thoughts and memories.
Flow interrupts these patterns.
Rather than focusing on what happened yesterday or what might happen tomorrow, attention becomes anchored in what is happening right now. The mind has less bandwidth available for rumination because it is fully occupied with the task at hand.
Running also triggers a cascade of neurochemical changes that support psychological well-being. Endorphins, endocannabinoids, dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine all play a role in enhancing mood, motivation, and emotional regulation. Over time, the brain begins to associate the effort of running with the reward of feeling better.
This is one of the reasons running can become such a powerful mental health practice.
Not because it helps us escape ourselves.
Because it helps us reconnect with ourselves.
When people think about mental health, they often focus on reducing symptoms. While that is important, mental health is also about cultivating moments of vitality, engagement, meaning, and connection. Flow provides exactly that.
And perhaps one of the most beautiful aspects of flow is that it reconnects us not only to ourselves but also to something larger.
When I'm in flow on a run, I notice the world differently. I hear the birds. I feel the changing seasons. I exchange a smile with another runner stopped at a traffic light. The barriers between myself and the world seem a little thinner.
For a moment, I am not thinking about life.
I am simply living it.
In a culture that constantly pulls our attention in a hundred different directions, flow may be one of the most valuable mental health interventions available to us. It doesn't require a prescription, a complicated protocol, or a perfect mindset.
Sometimes it begins with something as simple as lacing up your running shoes, stepping outside, and allowing yourself to become fully immersed in the next step, and then the one after that.
The run ends.
The flow state fades.
But often we return home feeling calmer, clearer, more connected, and a little more ourselves than when we left.
And in today's world, that's no small thing.
References:
Dietrich, A. (2004). Neurocognitive mechanisms underlying the experience of flow. Consciousness and Cognition, 13(4), 746–761.
Gold, J., & Ciorciari, J. (2020). A review on the role of the neuroscience of flow states in the modern world. Behavioral Sciences, 10(9), 137.
Heijnen, S., Hommel, B., Kibele, A., & Colzato, L. (2016). Neuromodulation of aerobic exercise—A review. Frontiers in Psychology, 6, 1890.
Trauma, Prediction, and the Flow State: Why the Body May Not “Keep the Score” After All
For years, trauma discourse has been shaped by a powerful phrase popularized by Bessel van der Kolk: the body keeps the score. The phrase resonated because it captured something many trauma survivors viscerally understand — trauma is not merely remembered cognitively. It is felt physiologically. It emerges in tension patterns, chronic hypervigilance, dissociation, pain, exhaustion, panic, and emotional reactivity that often seem to bypass conscious thought entirely.
But a recent paper published in Frontiers in Systems Neuroscience challenges this framing in a provocative way. The authors argue that trauma is not literally “stored” in the body, but rather dynamically reconstructed through predictive processes occurring across the brain-body system.
At first glance, this may sound dismissive of somatic experience. But I believe the deeper implication is actually more hopeful.
Because if trauma is not a fixed imprint trapped in the body, then healing may not require endlessly excavating the past. It may instead involve restoring flexibility, adaptability, and the nervous system’s capacity to move fluidly between states.
In other words: healing may be less about remembering and more about regaining flow.
The Predictive Brain
Modern neuroscience increasingly suggests that the brain is not a passive recorder of reality. It is a prediction machine.
Your nervous system is constantly generating expectations about what is about to happen based on prior experience. The brain uses these predictions to determine:
what is safe,
what is dangerous,
where attention should go,
what sensations mean,
and how the body should respond.
This framework is known as predictive processing.
When someone experiences trauma — especially chronic or developmental trauma — the nervous system begins predicting danger even when objective threat is absent. The world becomes filtered through anticipatory survival coding.
The body tightens before conscious awareness catches up.
The heart races before there is a thought.
The person feels unsafe without knowing why.
Importantly, this does not mean the trauma is “stored” in muscle tissue like a file in a cabinet. Rather, the nervous system has become organized around a persistent expectation of threat.
And over time, prediction becomes physiology.
The Loss of Flexibility
One of the most compelling ideas in the paper is the concept of metastability — the nervous system’s ability to flexibly shift between states.
A healthy nervous system moves dynamically:
activation and rest,
focus and relaxation,
effort and recovery,
emotion and regulation.
Trauma disrupts this fluidity.
Instead of adaptability, the nervous system becomes rigidly organized around survival. Individuals may become stuck in:
hyperarousal,
emotional shutdown,
dissociation,
compulsive control,
chronic scanning,
or repetitive emotional loops.
Clinically, this is what many therapists observe every day:
not simply distress, but a profound loss of neurophysiological flexibility.
And this is where flow state becomes deeply relevant.
Flow State as Restored Neural Flexibility
Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi described flow as a state of complete absorption in an activity where self-consciousness diminishes, time alters, and action becomes fluid and effortless.
Athletes experience it.
Artists experience it.
Musicians, runners, writers, dancers, surgeons, and meditators experience it.
Neurobiologically, flow appears to involve:
transient quieting of excessive self-monitoring,
increased integration across neural networks,
heightened present-moment attention,
and more efficient communication between brain and body systems.
In many ways, flow represents the opposite of traumatic rigidity.
Trauma narrows.
Flow expands.
Trauma creates overprediction and defensive fixation.
Flow restores adaptability.
Trauma traps attention in threat monitoring.
Flow dissolves hypervigilant self-awareness into immersive engagement.
This may help explain why activities like:
running,
surfing,
music,
breathwork,
hypnosis,
meditation,
martial arts,
creative work,
and even psychedelic-assisted therapy
can feel profoundly regulating for trauma survivors.
Not because they “release stored trauma” in a simplistic sense, but because they temporarily interrupt rigid predictive loops and allow the nervous system to experience a different pattern of organization.
The Body Still Matters
None of this means the body is irrelevant.
Far from it.
Trauma absolutely manifests physiologically:
autonomic dysregulation,
inflammatory changes,
altered interoception,
muscular guarding,
sleep disruption,
vagal dysfunction,
endocrine stress responses,
and procedural survival patterns are all real.
But perhaps the body is not a storage container for trauma.
Perhaps it is the living expression of predictive states.
This distinction matters clinically.
Because if symptoms are dynamic predictions rather than permanent damage, then healing becomes less about “fixing what is broken” and more about expanding what is possible.
Toward a New Model of Healing
Many trauma survivors spend years attempting to intellectually understand their suffering. Insight matters. Meaning matters. Narrative matters.
But healing may also require experiences that the nervous system cannot predict in advance.
Moments of:
safety,
novelty,
agency,
embodiment,
awe,
creativity,
connection,
challenge,
rhythm,
play,
and flow.
The nervous system changes not only through analysis, but through new lived experience.
This is why therapies involving hypnosis, somatic work, neuroplasticity practices, performance training, mindfulness, or carefully structured altered states can sometimes create shifts that traditional insight-oriented therapy alone cannot.
The brain updates itself through experience.
And perhaps healing occurs when the nervous system slowly learns:
“I no longer have to organize myself around survival.”
Maybe the goal is not to erase trauma.
Maybe the goal is to restore flexibility.
To reclaim movement where there was rigidity.
Presence where there was prediction.
Flow where there was fear.
Reference:
Kotler, S., Mannino, M., Fox, G., & Friston, K. (2026, May 14). The body does not keep the score: Trauma, predictive coding, and the restoration of metastability. Frontiers. https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/systems-neuroscience/articles/10.3389/fnsys.2026.1812957/full
Rewiring the Mind: Hypnosis, Microdosing, and the Subtle Art of Change
As a trauma therapist, I am consistently in search of modalities that will help my clients feel better faster. So many of us have worked hard to excavate and put meaning to what we have endured. Though effective, often this work of processing past traumas and making new meaning reaches certain limitations. We end up understanding ourselves better, which is important, but are we actually feeling better? Are we really making the changes we set out to?
What if meaningful psychological change didn’t require high doses, dramatic breakthroughs, or years of therapy—but instead emerged through subtle shifts in perception, repeated over time? What if it is possible to rewire your brain, thus changing decades-old patterns through expanded consciousness and gentle suggestions?
In a culture drawn to optimization, two very different approaches have begun to circle the same question: how do we gently loosen the grip of rigid thought patterns and create space for something new? One comes from the clinic and the study of attention—hypnosis. The other, more controversial, comes from the world of psychedelics—microdosing.
At first glance, these approaches may seem unrelated. One relies on language and suggestion; the other on chemistry. But at a deeper level, both are attempts to influence the same system: the brain’s ability to update itself.
Two Paths Into the Same System
Most people have a general idea based on stage hypnosis, seeing someone put in a trance, then made to do something ridiculous for the benefit of the crowd. This leaves hypnosis misunderstood as theatrical or mystical. However, in its clinical form, hypnosis is nothing like this. It is far more precise and collaborative. I always tell my clients they will not be induced into a hypnotic state if they do not want to be. Clinical hypnosis involves a narrowing of attention, a reduction in peripheral awareness, and an increased responsiveness to suggestion. In this state, the mind becomes less anchored to habitual narratives and more open to new associations.
Neuroscientifically, hypnosis appears to modulate large-scale brain networks involved in self-referential thinking and cognitive control (Jiang et al., 2017). In simpler terms, it quiets the internal commentary that keeps us locked into familiar patterns, allowing alternative interpretations to take hold.
Microdosing, by contrast, involves taking very small—sub-perceptual—amounts of psychedelic substances such as psilocybin or LSD. The goal is not to hallucinate, but to subtly shift mood, cognition, or creativity.
Scientific research and literature on microdosing are still playing catch-up. Some studies suggest improvements in mood and a decrease in overall symptoms of depression, cognitive flexibility, and increased creativity. Other studies point to strong placebo effects. What is clear, however, is that even at low doses, these substances interact with serotonergic systems—particularly via 5-HT2A receptor agonism—modulating neural processes tied to perception, meaning-making, and emotional salience (Barrett et al. 2022)
One approach works through suggestion. The other through neurochemistry. Yet both aim to do something remarkably similar: gently loosen the grip of the brain’s default mode of processing.
The Power of Subtle Disruption
The brain is, above all, a prediction machine. It relies on established patterns—habits of thought, perception, and behavior—to efficiently navigate the world. These patterns are useful, but they can also become rigid.
Change, then, requires a disruption. Not necessarily a dramatic one, but enough to interrupt the automatic loop.
Hypnosis introduces this disruption from the top down. By guiding attention and introducing carefully framed suggestions, it alters how information is interpreted. A long-standing belief—“I am not capable of this”—can be softened, reframed, or replaced while the mind is in a more receptive state.
Microdosing may work from the bottom up. By subtly altering neurotransmitter activity—particularly within serotonin systems—it may increase neural flexibility, making the brain slightly less constrained by its usual predictive models.
In both cases, the goal is not chaos, but plasticity—a temporary window in which the brain becomes more open to change.
Neurobiology of Flexibility
Although the mechanisms differ, both approaches intersect with systems involved in motivation, learning, and adaptation.
Dopamine plays a role in reinforcing new behaviors and increasing sensitivity to reward. When a new pattern—whether cognitive or behavioral—is experienced as meaningful or beneficial, dopamine helps encode it.
Serotonin, particularly through receptors associated with psychedelics, is linked to shifts in perception and the loosening of rigid mental frameworks. This is one reason psychedelic research has focused on conditions characterized by inflexible thinking, such as depression.
Underlying both is neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to reorganize itself. Lasting change does not come from a single experience, but from repeated activation of new pathways until they become the default.
This is where subtlety becomes powerful. Large interventions may create dramatic shifts, but small, repeated ones are often what make those shifts stick.
Where the Comparison Breaks Down
It would be easy—and tempting—to frame hypnosis and microdosing as interchangeable. They are not.
Hypnosis has a substantial clinical history. It is used in the treatment of pain, anxiety, trauma, and habit disorders, and can be applied in a controlled, intentional way. It is also a skill—one that can be developed and refined over time.
Microdosing, on the other hand, has not been studied to the same degree. Research is ongoing, results are mixed, and expectancy effects appear to play a significant role. There are also legal considerations that vary by location, as well as questions about long-term safety that have not yet been fully answered.
In short, one is a well-established psychological tool. The other is an emerging practice still under investigation.
State vs. Substance
A useful way to understand the relationship between these approaches is to think in terms of state versus substance.
Hypnosis is a method for deliberately entering a particular mental state—one characterized by focus, receptivity, and reduced cognitive resistance. It is internally generated and guided.
Microdosing, if effective, may nudge the brain toward a similar state through external means. It is less precise, less controllable, and more dependent on individual variability.
This distinction matters. A state you can generate intentionally is one you can return to, refine, and integrate into daily life. A substance-induced shift, while potentially insightful, is harder to standardize and sustain without repeated use.
A More Grounded Takeaway
The growing interest in both hypnosis and microdosing reflects something deeper: we are looking for gentle, creative ways to change and heal. This change doesn’t always have to come from being cracked wide open; it can emerge from subtle shifts in how we perceive, interpret, and respond.
If you find you want to explore this space, there are safe and grounded, accessible ways to begin:
Structured self-hypnosis or guided attention practices
Pairing relaxed, focused states with intentional suggestions
Journaling directly after these self-hypnosis sessions to reinforce new associations
Repetition—returning to the same mental cues until they become familiar
These approaches leverage the same principle at the core of both hypnosis and microdosing: small changes, applied consistently, can reshape the system over time.
The future of mental healing and growth may not lie in choosing between mind and molecule, but in understanding the conditions under which the brain becomes most capable of change.
Sometimes that window is opened through chemistry. Sometimes through attention.
But in either case, the real work begins after the shift—when new patterns are practiced, reinforced, and eventually made automatic.
Because lasting change is rarely about intensity.
It is about repetition, timing, and the quiet, persistent rewiring of the mind.
References
Barrett, F. S., Zhou, Y., Carbonaro, T. M., Janet Hatcher Roberts, Smith, G. S., Griffiths, R. R., & Wong, D. F. (2022). Human Cortical Serotonin 2A Receptor Occupancy by Psilocybin Measured Using [11C]MDL 100,907 Dynamic PET and a Resting-State fMRI-Based Brain Parcellation. Frontiers in Neuroergonomics, 2. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnrgo.2021.784576 priority_high Issue number close
Jiang, H., White, M. P., Greicius, M. D., Waelde, L. C., & Spiegel, D. (2017). Brain Activity and Functional Connectivity Associated with Hypnosis. Cerebral Cortex, 27(8), 4083–4093. https://doi.org/10.1093/cercor/bhw220
Psychedelic Assisted Therapy
The Psychedelic revolution is here! Although wise healers and many indigenous cultures have been utilizing altered state consciousness healing and plant medicine for a very, very long time, Modern medicine and western cultures have long villainized the medicines as well as the cultures who use them. Much needs to be written and discussed regarding the harm of our prejudice and oppressive laws. As a white woman from the U.S.A., that is something I am learning about and dissecting on a personal level.
With the surge in interest and research, I am hopeful that the era of harm and criminalization has come to an end and that we are witnessing a new paradigm for not just healing but living and overall wellness. I started my training in plant medicine and altered state healing approximately twenty years ago. I have trained with indigenous healers in the Amazon in Peru and studied the use of psilocybin in a therapeutic setting alongside my mentor and teacher, most recently completing training in psychedelic-assisted therapy with MAPS. While I believe altered state healing can occur with any consciousnesses changing technique such as hypnosis, energy psychology, and mediation. I have learned that Psychedelics offer a particularly fast and intense healing experience that may be unique to the medicine ingested.
What does the research say?
Current research is exciting and points to tremendous healing benefits. In a study by Johns Hopkins Medicine researchers, psilocybin relieved major depression disorder symptoms for at least a year. A small study at NYU found excessive drinking was dramatically reduced after therapeutic sessions with psilocybin. Research conducted by MAPS has shown MDMA to be effective in the treatment of PTSD.
An exciting component of psychedelic therapies is that they may be helping to change the brain. Current research is suggesting the therapeutic use of psychedelics may enhance neural plasticity. More research is needed, and as far as I can tell, more research is coming. As a trauma therapist, I am dedicated to continued learning and training in anything I feel could help my clients. While I am weary of anyone suggesting psychedelics are a panacea, I am excited for the de-criminalization and ultimate access and use of these medicines.
What is Psychedelic Assisted Therapy?
The basic idea of the use of psychedelics in therapy is the therapeutic effect is not due simply to the physiological effects of the medicine; rather, it is the result of an interaction between the effects of the medicine, the therapeutic setting, and the mindsets of the participant and the therapists. A huge concept in this approach is set and setting, which means your mindset and the therapeutic environment are of great importance to the overall healing effect.
What is the Vagus Nerve and Should I Pay Attention?
Vagus Nerve
The vagus nerve is the longest and most complex cranial nerve; it is also known as the 10th (of 12) cranial nerve. It runs from the brain stem down to a part of the colon. The term “vagus” originates from Latin meaning “wandering” because the nerve wanders and carries information bi-directionally from the brain into organs in the neck, chest, and abdomen (Sampson, 2017). The Vagus nerve has sensory functions as well as motor functions. The sensory functions include; delivering somatic sensation information for the ear and particular parts of the throat, providing visceral sensation information for the larynx, esophagus, lungs, trachea, heart and the majority of the digestive tract, and it plays a role in the experience of taste (Hammond, 2018).
The motor functions include; stimulating muscles in the pharynx, larynx, and the soft palate, stimulating muscles in the heart and stimulating involuntary contractions in the digestive tract, including the esophagus, stomach, and most of the intestines (Hammond, 2018).
The Polyvagal Theory
The Polyvagal Theory was first introduced in 1994 by Dr. Stephen Porges. Dr. Porges started his exploration into the topic nearly four decades ago with an initial interest in the possibility of utilizing physiological measures to understand psychological states (Porges, 2011). The Polyvagal theory explains the autonomic nervous system as having three hierarchical subdivisions related to interpersonal connection and social behaviors (Porges, 2011). The oldest subdivision is the “Dorsal Vagal” and is the part of the parasympathetic nervous system that enables the “freeze” response in fight, flight, freeze. The next subdivision is our sympathetic nervous system that allows the fight/flight response. The third and most complex is the ventral vagus, our mammalian parasympathetic social engagement system. This sophisticated system of myelinated neural fibers that originate in the brainstem commands our heart rate, breathing, facial muscles, hearing, and vocalizing. Neuroception is a term coined by Dr. Porges, and it refers to how neural circuits determine if people, places, or situations are safe. Neuroception happens in the primitive parts of the brain and is not accessible to active cognition (Porges, 2011). Even though we may think we are safe if neuroception has determined a person is unsafe, our heart rate may increase, other defensive strategies may be employed, and typical social engagement may be difficult.
The polyvagal theory operates from a hierarchical perspective in that all three of our subdivisions follow a natural order. This order is dependent on the neuroception of danger or safety that has been determined. For example, if the situation is deemed safe, we are free to employ the ventral vagal social engagement system which means we feel free to express our feelings, be ourselves, use facial expressions easily and regulate voice pattern. Conversely, if neuroception determines a situation is unsafe often unbeknownst to us, our sympathetic nervous system will take over, and if that system fails to achieve safety dorsal vagal mode, or shutting down “freeze” response will be engaged (Porges, 2011). This is an automatic process and can happen without a cognitively available trigger.
Trauma therapists and trauma survivors are consistently working with fight, flight, or freeze reactions (Van der Kolk, 2011). Individuals living with complex PTSD often experience emotions that are difficult to regulate, and small frustrations can quickly escalate to a crisis, minor clashes in miscommunication can easily turn into dramatic interpersonal conflicts.
When PTSD was first conceptualized only single, dramatic incidents were the focus. Eventually, we have come to understand that the most intense and disruptive dysregulation happens with individuals who have lacked, safe, consistent, and attuned caregivers. Loss of caregivers, emotional abuse, neglect, chronic misattunement, and inconsistency have presented as the primary contributors to a wide variety of psychiatric disorders (Van der Kolk, 2011).
With the advancements in neurobiology, researchers have been able to demonstrate the neurophysiological and physiological underpinnings of arousal. The relationship between the sympathetic nervous system and the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis have been the focus of this research (Porges, 2011). The understood connection between the sympathetic nervous system and the HPA axis has led to the involvement of mind-body approaches in the treatment of trauma-related disorders.
One of the most crucial discoveries in psychology has been that the inability to establish safe and secure early attachment bonds leads to a weakened capacity to regulate undesirable emotions later on (Van der Kolk, 2011). Over 50 years of attachment and neurobiological research have demonstrated that the internal self-regulatory process of an individual is dependent upon the level of attunement provided by their external (usually parental) sources of regulation early in their development (Van der Kolk, 2011). In short, a history of chronic misattunement with one’s primary caregivers predisposes people to have a hard time managing their negative emotions as adults.
Mind-body approaches and the Vagus nerve
The polyvagal approach involves working with the social engagement system (Ventral Vagus) and helping our neuroception to accurately detect safety or danger so we can feel more in charge of our responses to our environments.
Integrative healing approaches combine ancient wisdom with modern science. Many integrative practitioners, myself included, believe that the mind-body wants to heal it’s just that sometimes we do not have the tools to tap into our natural self-healing capabilities. Research has demonstrated that high vagal tone ( a vagus nerve that is toned and exhibits working vagus nerve activity) aids in digestion and regulating blood glucose levels helping to reduce the chances of cardiovascular disease, stroke, and diabetes. On the other hand, low vagal tone has been connected with chronic inflammation. Current research is demonstrating that strengthening vagal tone can help relieve anxiety, depression, brain fog, fatigue, and digestive struggles (Aylward, 2019).
Breathwork can be an accessible and effective way to increase vagal tone. By slowing down our breath and extending the exhale, we can activate what is termed the vagal brake and elicit the relaxation response. Research has demonstrated that mindful, slow diaphragmatic breath increase vagal tone. There are also yoga postures that can help stimulate the vagus nerve, such as heart openers, cat-cow movement, and spine twists. Yoga Nidra or restorative yoga can also be a beautiful practice to help the body learn to engage the relaxation response. Though be mindful of your physical capacities and where you are in your healing journey. In the beginning, too much stillness can be unbearable for a nervous system that does not yet know how to calm down. Utilizing mind-body approaches for healing is about learning to hear what your system needs from a compassionate, non-judgmental space and working to meet that need to the best of your ability.
References:
Aylward, H. (2019). Thirve naturally by activating your vagus nerve. Retrieved from https://www.yogatoday.com/blog/thrive-naturally-by-activating-your-vagus-nerve
Hammond, N. (2018, July 31). Vagus Nerve Overview. Retrieved from https://www.healthline.com/human-body-maps/vagus-nerve
Porges, SW. (2011) The polyvagal theory neurophysiological foundations of emotions attachment communication self-regulation. New York, NY: W.W. Norton & Company Inc.
Sampson, S. (2017, June 28). Everything you need to know about the vagus nerve. Retrieved from https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/318128.php
Van der Kolk, B. (2011)Foreword in the polyvagal theory neurophysiological foundations of emotions attachment communication self-regulation. New York, NY: W.W. Norton & Company Inc.
What I Learned About Alternative Healing—And Myself—In Peru
I have always struggled with certain aspects of our modern society. One of those struggles is in our western medical system and how we approach health and healing in general. As a result, as I moved through my contemporary education and training in psychology,, I was simultaneously exploring the wisdom found in ancient cultures.
It is no surprise that this curiosity lead me to the jungle. Although alternatively minded I also have great respect for formal learning. A few years ago I began to seek out an experience that may blend my desire for a strict learning environment with teachings from ancient cultures. I found my way to The Sachamama Center for Biocultural Regeneration in the Amazonian town of Lamas, Peru What I learned in those weeks I spent at The Sachamama Center and in the Amazon will stay with me forever, both personally and professionally. It was truly transformational.
From the second I stepped into the facility and met the site director and owner, anthropologist Dr. Frederique Apfell-Marglin, I knew I was about to see and experience things I had never been exposed to before.
My journey started with a local shaman healer or curandero named Carlos, who led me through a holistic blend of healing techniques that help connect individuals to mind, body, and spirit a value that I didn’t fully understand until I experienced it for myself. That heightened awareness of the mind-body connection set the tone, and started me down a path that continued deeper into the jungle on a boat down the Huayaga River where we met another curandero, Aquilino Chujandama, and his son, Henry, a “plant master” who demonstrated the importance of sacred ritual and ceremony in healing.
These theories and indigenous traditions were put into practice at our final stop, the Takiwasi Center in the small town of Tarapoto, Peru. Blending traditional Amazonian medicine and conventional psychotherapy, Takiwasi healers working under thatched roofs in the jungle see as much success in the treatment of addiction as medical professionals in some of the modern world’s most prestigious health care facilities.
I left a different person, and a different kind of practitioner. And while I will always struggle to articulate all the ways this experience changed me verbally, there are three definitive lessons I learned in the Amazon that I will never forget:
1: The Power of Medicinal Plants in Indigenous Healing
So there I was, walking deep in the jungle, being guided by a plant master an expert in the healing power many of these plant-based tonics and ceremonies when I had this realization. Not because someone told me, but because I was living it.
Of course I was aware that certain plants and minerals and vitamins were essential to good health and wellness, but to actually make the tonics—to cut fresh ginger and mix the ingredients in the heart of the jungle—opened my eyes to what other civilizations have known for centuries: As humans in harmony with the Earth, the plants around us are our most natural healers.
In fact, many of our most common physical ailments, from upset stomach to stress, can be healed with the power of plants.
In addition to experiencing the beauty of ancient plant ceremonies, I was able to enjoy a powerful energy healing session that utilized tobacco, breath work, and Ikaros, the healing “songs” of the plants.
Henry, the “plant master,” not only taught me about the uses of each plant, but he also instilled the importance of ceremony and ritual when ingesting these plants.
Plants have cosmic energy. Harnessing that energy results in healing and a state of wellbeing.
2: The Importance of Connecting to Nature for Mind-Body Balance
Beyond the healing power of plants, I also became keenly aware of the importance of connecting to nature. It’s something I often contemplate. In modern psychology we speak of mindfulness, we talk about energy healing, but often we forget the most basic elements of nature.
Spending time in a natural spring reminded me of the restorative benefits of being immersed in a place filled with lush, green plants, fresh air, and a culture that truly respects the land. There was a moment after a master plant ceremony when I was buried in the jungle, and we were being asked to clear and feel our energetic fields. The shaman asked for permission to enter this place in the jungle, and if he didn’t receive a “yes” from the spirit of the forest, he wouldn’t go in. Seeing that and living that moment that really shifted the way I experience nature now.
3: The Necessity for More Integrative Medicine Approaches in Health Care
In the U.S. we are just beginning to unlock the potential of integrative health approaches. The way in which the practitioners and the shamans work with mind-body medicine in the Peruvian Amazon is all-encompassing. There is no separation between the emotional, physical, and spiritual. Everything is connected.
In observing these indigenous healers and learning more about their beliefs and practice, I became aware of how important it is to have a healthy relationship with your own spiritual self. This means being mindful of what you eat but also what you expose yourself to.
Clearing negative energy opens a pathway to wellness, and that realization is something our modern society could genuinely benefit from.
So it is all of these things I am carry into to my own practice and the clients I care for as a therapist as well as to myself. I expect to infuse my clinical work with my ancient and traditional teachings for many years to come.
Being guided through the jungle, receiving a most sacred education
Going deeper….down the Huayaga River
Energy Psychology
Energy Psychology
Do you speak energy? This is a question I often pose to my clients. While most of them answer yes, either from an intellectual or an intuitive knowing or both, the truth is all of us “speak energy”. Working with energy in a healing way involves the use of the measurable energy such as electrical and electromagnetic as well as the yet to be measurable subtle energies of the body (Eden & Feinstein 1998). This article will briefly explore the concepts embraced by Energy Psychology.
What is Energy Psychology
Energy psychology (EP) is the term used to express a therapeutic approach that involves specific mind-body techniques that work with the human bioenergy system (the biofield and meridian system). It explores how the bioenergy system interacts with thoughts, emotions, and behaviors. The underpinning theory in EP is that all psychological distress has an energetic component that can be located and treated with simple and measurable techniques. Energy Psychologists work under the theory that held negative emotions are at the core of psychological illness (Williams et al., 2010). It is thought that traumatic energy and information can be seen as alarms that stop up the body’s natural energy flow (Williams et al., 2010). Change and healing can then be obtained through releasing the stuck or held energy in the system (Flint et al., 2006).
Energy psychology was inspired by the work of Dr. Roger Callahan and his development of Thought Field Therapy (TFT), (Mollon, 2006).TFT was inspired by Dr. Callahan's knowledge of applied Kinesiology and his study of Dr. George Goodheart’s ‘muscle testing’(Mollon, 2006). Dr. Goodheart found a way of accessing the subtle energy system of Chinese medicine by way of immediate biofeedback of muscle testing (Mollon, 2006). Callahan then used ‘muscle –testing’ to connect acupressure points associated with the psychological issue at hand.(Flint, Lammers, & Mitnick, 2006). Once identified these points are then tapped or touched while the individual is stating affirmations. TFT takes the position that tapping on these meridian points releases subtle energies related to the psychological issue, the meridian system is then rebalanced clearing the individual of the issue (Mollon 2006). It is important to note that TFT is only one EP technique, there are now many more.
The Human Biofield
In 1994 Scientists conducting research sponsored by the National Health Institute (NIH) coined the term “Biofield” to define the weak and complex electromagnetic field that surrounds an organism. The biofield is thought to contain electromagnetic bioinformation for regulating homeodynamics (Rubik, 2002). While the researchers ascertained that the biofield model may eventually accept concepts related to mind, body, and soul as traditional eastern healing approaches do, currently it operates under the more western scientific concepts of bioelectromagnetics and biophysical systems theory (Rubik, 2002). Researchers state the biofield may be a very complex standing wave surrounding an organism that involves the electromagnetic energy of the organism’s cell, tissue, molecule, ion, etc. (Rubik, 2002).
Healing approaches that specifically address the biofield include practices such as Reiki, healing touch, Qi Gong, Energy Medicine and more.
What does the research say?
Energy healers report an imbalance in the biofield as well as in the meridian system as a result of trauma. A study conducted by Mackay, Hansen, and McFarlane (2004) was interested in measuring autonomic nervous system changes in individuals receiving Reiki treatment, an energy healing modality that works with the biofield. The researchers reported a decrease in heart rate as well as diastolic blood pressure in the group that received the Reiki treatment when compared to the placebo and no treatment control groups.
According to Fang et al. (2009), the stimulation of specific acupuncture points may send deactivating signals directly to the amygdala. In their study, Fang et al. (2009) selected 10 healthy individuals to undergo fMRI during manual acupuncture stimulation. The results indicated a deactivation of limbic-paralimbic-neocortical system as a result of acupuncture treatment.
Diepold and Goldstein (2009) utilized quantitative electroencephalography (QEEG) to measure brainwave changes in an individual trauma survivor after the treatment of thought-field therapy (TFT). The researchers reported a shift in brain wave frequency from abnormal to normal after the TFT treatment, results remained the same at an 18-month follow up. The authors concluded that trauma memory did create an abnormal energy pattern in the body and the meridian based therapies could work to correct this imbalance.
There is much more research than what I have listed here if this grabs your interest I encourage you to go explore the topic on your own!
Although much still needs to be understood in regard to the biofield, the meridian system, and energy healing it is a healing approach that has been around for at least 2,000 years (Gerber, 2001). As a therapist, I incorporate energy psychology in the healing process in a variety of ways. I embrace TFT and EFT (a simpler version of TFT). I will also look for the energy associated with a symptom and help my clients use movement, imagery or breath to release this stuck energy. Finding ways to release stuck energy and rebalance the system is the goal. The exciting news is that we all have the intrinsic natural ability to be energy healers, either for ourselves, for others or for our world. If this approach speaks to you it may be time to explore energy healing and energy psychology a bit deeper. The potential in this modality is limitless.
References
Diepold, J.H. & Goldstein, D. (2009). Thought field therapy and QEEG changes in the treatment
of trauma: A case study. Traumatology, 15, 85-93.
Eden, D. & Feinstein, D. (2008). Energy medicine balancing your body’s energies for optimal health, joy, and
vitality. New York, NY: The Penguin Group.
Fang, J., Jin, Z., Wang, Y., Li, K., Kong, J., Nixon, E.E.,…Hui, K.K.S. (2009). The salient
characteristics of the central effects of acupuncture needling: Limbic-paralimbic-neocortical network modulation. Human Brain Mapping, 30, 1196-1206. DOI: 10.1002/hbm.20583
Flint, G.A., Lammers, W., & Mitnick, D.G. (2006). Emotional freedom techniques: a safe
intervention for many trauma based issues. Journal of Aggression, Maltreatment &
Trauma 12(1-2). 125-150. Doi:10.1200/j146v12n01_07.
Gerber, G. & Tiller, W. (2001). Vibrational Medicine the #1 handbook of subtle-energy therapies. Rochester, Vermont: Bear & Company.
Mackay, N., Hansen, S., Mcfarlane, O., (2004). Autonomic nervous system changes during Reiki
treatment: A preliminary study. The Journal of Alternative and Complimentary Medicine 10(6) 1077-1081
Mollon, P. (2008) Psychoanalytic energy psychotherapy. London, England: Karnac Books ltd
Rubik, B. (2002). The biofield hypothesis: It’s biophysical basis and role in medicine. The
Journal of Alternative and Complimentary Medicine 8(6) 703-717. http://web.b.ebscohost.com.tcsedsystem.idm.oclc.org/ehost/pdfviewer/pdfviewer?vid=13&sid=c2b59405-d6e8-4723-8930-f2fd0a226054%40sessionmgr101
Williams, C., Dutton, D., & Burgess C. (2010) Communication the intangible: A
phenomenological exploration of energy healing. Qualitative Research in Psychology 7:45-56.