A Zero Balancing Session

Once a month, I drive to Charlottesville, Virginia to meet with my Zero Balancing mentor. I receive a session from her first. Later, another colleague joins us, and we share lunch, conversation, and time in practicum — talking about the work, where we’re at in our lives, and what we’re noticing in our bodies.

It’s a nourishing rhythm. One I’m really grateful for.
And honestly — it’s worth the nearly five-hour round trip.

I’m beginning to share reflections from receiving Zero Balancing sessions. Not to explain the work or make claims — just to offer a lived, personal view of what it’s like to receive. What brings me to a session. The frame I offer. What I notice. And how things continue to unfold afterward.

We met on Friday, January 16th. What follows is first and foremost about my experience as a receiver, held within a mentorship and relational container.

Where my mind was

My mind felt clear. The drive was easy and beautiful, and I was looking forward to seeing my friends. We had taken December off, so it felt like a gentle return — settled and present.

Where my body was

My body was curious about gravity — what it really means to be supported by it. To trust it.

I’ve been in relationship with a postural line of energy starting from my abdomen down through my left leg for almost a year. Early in development, it became a protector — a way of holding myself upright in the world. I found myself wondering if my body might be ready to let some of that effort go.

Where my heart was

My heart was curious about interface — with my clients and with myself. What does it actually look like to trust the higher intelligence of the body? Not as an idea, but as something lived.

My frame for the session

I’d like to invite my bones into right relationship with gravity — to rest into support, and allow whatever wants to move through me to do so naturally.

After sharing my frame, my mentor had me sit on the table while she gently evaluated my spine, nestling into areas of tension. Then I lay down, fully clothed, face up on the table.

What I noticed

The hands-on part of the session was about forty minutes. My mind wandered at times — and each time, I came back to the sensation of her hands on my bones.

What stood out were the longer, precise fulcrums on my skeleton — especially through my neck and cervical spine, and along the dorsal hinge (lower ribs and lumbar spine). As the session went on, I felt a kind of ease begin to come from the inside. Not dramatic. Just a softening.

I didn’t drop into stillness or have a big release during this session. I stayed aware the whole time — moving between thought and sensation, orienting again and again to the contact on my bones.

That was the experience.

When the session ended, I rested quietly for a few minutes before getting up. As I walked around, the clearest thing I noticed was this:

Something has shifted — but I don’t know what yet.

Afterward

My mentor invited me to sit with her on the couch while we waited for our colleague to arrive. The couch faces wide sliding glass doors that look out onto trees and the Rockfish Gap River moving through the land.

At first, we sat with space between us. Then I asked, gently, if I could sit closer. She said yes, placed a blanket across our laps, and began telling stories about the trees we were observing together.

I rested my head on her shoulder. A softness moved through me. Gentle tears came — not from sadness, just from being held in a quiet, relational way.

Soon our third person arrived. We shared a nourishing meal and found ourselves in a rich conversation about interface, processing, and trust.

Letting it keep moving

Now, I’m just listening inward — letting the session continue to unfold in its own way, on its own time, without needing to name or direct an outcome.

A thread I keep returning to

This reflection lives within a long-standing mentorship relationship, and that context matters.

And still, the heart of the experience is what I want to share.

The inward journey.
The reconnecting of inner bridges.
The way safety and trust quietly reshape how we relate — first to ourselves, then to others.

The way we’re loved early in life becomes the blueprint for our relationships. Zero Balancing has been one of the main ways I’ve learned to reconnect those inner bridges of love — how I relate to myself as a human and as a soul, and how I show up with more presence and care in the world.

This is a thread I’ll keep coming back to. 

💚