The Awakening Body

I never expected that healing would become a language of sensation, but that’s what it became. My journey didn’t begin with knowledge of anatomy or technique. It began with a whisper — a silent knowing, a sensation that something was tugging, winding, and binding beneath my skin.

For years, I didn’t know it had a name. I just knew that something wasn’t right in my body. Not injured exactly, but held — twisted, distorted, and tense in ways that defied explanation. The pain was always there. The sensations always shifting. At night, when I closed my eyes, I’d feel parts of my body moving on their own — my hands curling, my jaw clenching, my toes twitching. And then came the dreams.

I began seeing body parts in my sleep. A foot would appear, or a hand, or a piece of skin stretched tight. And then I would feel it in myself — a pulling, an ache, a motion wanting to happen. I was being taught in a language that had no words. Something wanted to move through me, and it had to move through my body before I could understand it.

At first, I tried to ignore it. I had a life to live. I tried to pursue other careers, raise a family, stay grounded in “normal” life. But the sensations wouldn’t stop. The dreams kept coming. The tension wouldn’t leave my body. I had to listen.

That was the beginning of what I now call the awakening body — the phase of my journey when my body started teaching me. When the fascia — though I didn’t yet know to call it that — began speaking. It led me to lie on the floor, to press into the bottoms of my feet, to trace the tension lines in my hands and wrists. I started mapping the spirals, following the lines of sensation as they curled and looped and crossed through my limbs.

I remember placing my hands on my own body and waiting — not doing, just listening. And that’s when I first felt it. A wave of release. A softening. A spiral unraveling under my fingers. My body wasn’t broken. It was just asking to be unwound.

I didn’t know then that this was fascia. I didn’t have the words or the framework. But I knew the feeling. And I knew it was real. Every time I followed the feeling, something healed. And that was enough to keep going.

Looking back, this chapter of my life was all about surrender. Surrendering to the knowing that lived in my own tissue. Learning to trust the invisible pull, the unseen force that guided my hands and moved my limbs. It was terrifying and beautiful. I was waking up. And so was my body.

This is the beginning of Dream-Origin Fascia Unwinding.  Not as a technique, but as a revelation.