As I grew older, I began to realise my fascination, perhaps even an obsession with scent was more than a simple appreciation. I was using my sense of smell as a way to interpret the world around me, creating a sense of safety or signaling danger. It was a tool, albeit one I didn’t fully understand at the time.

For much of my life, I lived in survival mode, reacting to loss and uncertainty with the instinct to fix and control.

I was on autopilot, trying to shield myself from the discomfort of uncertainty.

This pattern was generational, rooted deeply in my family's history, and it became my default response to grief and pain.

A trigger is any stimulus, event, or situation that activates an emotional or physical reaction, often tied to past trauma. These reactions can include fear, anger, sadness, or anxiety, sometimes arising without conscious awareness of their origins.

As research continues to uncover, our bodies store these responses like a safety switch, ready to protect us. But when left unchecked, this switch can feel like an overpowering alarm.

Children may lose the ability to engage, not just with the outside world but even within their own homes. Over time, this impacts their ability to develop empathy, form connections, and regulate emotions.

In contrast, ancient traditions from cultures far older than ours have long understood that health involves the whole body, including emotional and spiritual well-being. Reflecting on my own journey as a parent, I remember the rabbit hole I went down when Seth was diagnosed at the age of three. My hyper-focus on the diagnosis left me overwhelmed and disconnected. Looking back, I understand why I fell into this pattern, and it’s part of the reason I’m so passionate about helping others avoid similar struggles.

But the truth is, by hiding sin, whether my own or someone else’s, we are preventing forgiveness, grace, and ultimately, healing from taking place.

As Christians, especially within the context of communities and organised religion, we need to rethink how we handle sin. The example that Christ set for us was one of truth, transparency, and grace. And as painful as it can be, I’ve come to realise that truth must be brought to light for the sinner to receive forgiveness and for true healing to happen.

Often, our distractions and procrastinations reflect something deeper. Am I avoiding a challenging task or difficult emotions? Am I numbing out? Or am I chasing fleeting pleasures because something feels incomplete within?

For business owners, students, and anyone engaged with social media, it can be both a blessing and a curse. It’s a great source of inspiration, knowledge, and networking. But how much of what we learn on these platforms do we truly put into practice?

My mother’s shame, guilt, and need for self-protection had overshadowed us, making her children scapegoats while she deflected blame.

For people who have experienced trauma or abuse, this state of heightened alertness can become their baseline, amplifying their perception of threat to the point of distorting reality.

Just as radio signals transmit across distances, so too do our prayers reach beyond the physical realm. Our spirit, like energy, interacts with everything around us, sending signals that can impact not only our lives but the lives of others, aligning with the interconnectedness of all creation. Through faith, our prayers are amplified, making them clearer and more powerful in their effect.

I thought that when she passed, I might finally be able to breathe. The idea of no longer carrying the guilt and shame felt like it might bring some relief. But not even a week after her burial, I find myself caught in a whirlwind of drama and stress, all stemming from the legacy of her choices.

I hardly knew my father, being too young to remember most of my time with him. You would think that photos of him would feel like a treasure trove, but instead, they are just images of faces and places without context.

What is the value in holding onto them without the stories that breathe life into those frozen moments?

intention plays a powerful role. When we communicate in advance to our cells what we expect and hope for, we enhance the healing process. Our body recognises and utilises the support we’re offering more effectively when there’s a clear intention behind it. Without that awareness, healing can still happen, but it might take longer.

Drawing a line in the sand is about reclaiming safety when a relationship becomes dangerous or emotionally draining. It’s about acknowledging that love doesn’t always look like proximity, especially when that proximity allows harm to continue.

Often, without warning, I would come under attack out of nowhere for another person’s grief, hurt, shame, and guilt. Their emotions would be directed at me, as if I was the source of their pain. But one day, something shifted in my understanding. I felt the need to draw a line in the sand, to say, “This is not mine to carry anymore.”

Yet, amidst the veils of the subconscious, lies a profound truth illuminated by biblical wisdom: living with intention allows us to discern the workings of the soul. Through prayerful guidance and spiritual discernment, we become more attuned to the subtle whispers of the Spirit, navigating the depths of our being with clarity and purpose.

Through this exploration of the RAIN method, I hope to break down each aspect to help people gain a deeper understanding of this practice that can aid in trauma and emotional healing. My goal is to present it through a Christian lens, demonstrating how these timeless principles align with our faith.

Choosing not to be in contact for the sake of my health doesn’t mean I don’t feel, it means I love from a distance in the only way I can. I’ve carried the weight of guilt from judgments all my life for not being there, for leaving it to others, for unspoken resentments. Would my life be filled with love and growth if I had stayed?

Yoga, I believe, is an incredible way to create a space between therapy sessions, a place to check in with yourself, to come home to your body, and to reconnect with your own needs and emotions. Looking back, I wish I had made this a priority earlier, especially in the early days of motherhood when it would have helped me stay grounded.