Belonging in the Body

A Zero Balancing Session

This reflection shares my third experience of receiving Zero Balancing.
It happened after completing Zero Balancing I and before attending ZB II.

Around that time, I was reading Alchemy of Touch by Fritz Smith.

What got me wasn’t technique.

It was the potential.

The stories of what can shift when someone is really met. The power of a simple frame. The way Fritz listened — without pushing, without fixing, without needing anything to be different.

Something in me lit up.

I felt inspired. Curious. Activated in a quiet way. Like I was standing at the edge of something bigger than I had understood before.

I started wondering what might happen if I trusted a frame fully. Not to make something happen. Just to name what was already there.

That curiosity came with me into the session.

Context

This was between Zero Balancing I and Zero Balancing II. I had just finished the first workshop and was still letting it land.

Not technically.

Internally.

Old stories were close to the surface again. The familiar ones that say I don’t belong.

I remembered being a kid, lying on my back, staring at the stars and feeling a kind of homesickness I couldn’t explain.

By this point in my life, those stories weren’t running the show anymore. I wasn’t spiraling. I wasn’t in danger.

And still.

There was this low, steady sense of disconnection.

I didn’t know why.

Where my body was

Heavy.

Braced.

I had gotten good at pushing through sensation. At performing. At overriding discomfort and keeping it together.

There was a gap between what I knew in my head and what I could actually feel in my bones.

I was tired of holding that gap alone.

Where my heart was

Hopeful.

Open, but cautious.

Ready for support. For something to land without effort.

Even with the confusion there, part of me believed something different was possible.

The frame

Before the session, I told David I wanted to frame it around this:

I want to know and feel — deep inside — that I am from the stars and that I belong on Earth.

Not as reassurance.

As embodiment.

I didn’t want an idea.

I wanted something structural. 

Something that could live in my bones.

The session

It started the usual way. A brief evaluation of my spine. I lay down. He began with a half-moon vector at my feet and worked through my dorsal hinge.

As he made contact on my pelvic bones, something softened.

My breath dropped. My weight dropped. A sense of coolness, lightness, and expansion moved through me.

When he worked through my posterior ribs and along my thoracic and cervical spine, I started hearing something. Not out loud. Not in my head exactly.

More like a quiet knowing moving through my body.

Jen, you are from the stars. And you belong here.

The session wasn’t dramatic.

It was steady.

At some point, the message stopped feeling like something I was hearing and became something I knew.

I am from the heavens. And I do belong on Earth.

What I noticed

When I stood up, my feet felt like suction cups.

Deeply plugged into the Earth.
At the same time, my spine and head felt light. Spacious. Upright. Connected upward.

It wasn’t overwhelming.

It was clear.

Strong.

Afterward

I didn’t walk away with a new belief about myself.

It wasn’t that.

The question of belonging had moved.

Out of my head.
Into my body.

I didn’t need to convince myself anymore.

I could feel where I stood.

And that felt steady.