The Power of Compassionate Inquiry: A 15-Minute Journey to Liberation

This morning, during our Compassionate Inquiry triad practice, I had the opportunity to step into the role of a client. As my therapist asked me what intention I wanted to hold for our session, I immediately noticed the tension in my neck and shoulders. I realized I had been carrying this tension since my last practice with my own client. Strangely enough, it was in the exact same place they had been holding their own discomfort.

As a somatic practitioner, I recognized that my client was a mirror for me. This wasn’t an obvious emotional trigger but a powerful somatic one—an imprint carried in my body. So, I set the intention to explore what lay beneath this tension.

Gabor Maté often says, “Where there is tension, we must put attention.” And so, we did.

We only had 15 minutes to practice, but I continue to be amazed by the depth and speed at which this modality works. Through compassion and somatic inquiry, we can access the inner child—the part of us that endured deep emotional wounding, forming survival beliefs to adapt to the world. These adaptations may have once been necessary, but in adulthood, they can create suffering on emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual levels.

As we explored the tension in my neck and shoulders, an unexpected image arose—a Dracula-like figure sucking the life out of me. The intensity of this visualization surprised me. My therapist gently guided me to stay with the sensation, and suddenly, I was transported back to a childhood memory.

I was four or five years old, lying in my grandmother’s bedroom. Hanging on the wall was a massive oil painting—a striking woman, painted by my mother. She had a rebellious energy, an 80s punk-rock presence, wild hair, bold makeup, an unapologetic defiance against social norms. And every night, as I lay in bed, she came alive.

To my young self, this wasn’t imagination—it was real. The fear was visceral. I dreaded bedtime, terrified of the painting’s looming presence. I must have told my grandparents or my mother, but rather than removing the painting, they tried to ‘fix’ the situation by placing a red nightlight in the room. It only made things worse.

Night after night, I shrank under my blanket, filled with terror. But beyond the fear, something deeper settled within me: The belief that my voice doesn’t matter. That even if I express myself, I won’t be taken seriously. That I am on my own. That I must create my own safety because I cannot rely on the adults around me.

This belief had been lodged in my body for decades, carried in the tension in my neck and shoulders—a silent survival strategy. But today, in that brief yet powerful session, something shifted. My four-year-old self finally spoke up: I want this painting to be taken out.

And I meant it.

The simple act of reclaiming that moment—of giving voice to what was never heard—was profoundly liberating.

It’s incredible to recognize that I have devoted my life to working with voice and sound, helping others find their authentic expression. And yet, this work is far deeper than artistic self-expression. It’s about reclaiming the parts of ourselves that have been silenced. It’s about healing the wounds that made us believe we must shrink, endure, and adapt.

It’s about liberation.

Today, I liberated myself with the support of my skillful Compassionate Inquiry Co-Practitioner, who is also in the same year-long professional Compassionate Inquiry Practitioners Program cohort as me. Through her powerful space holding for me, I was able to access the part of myself that had long been silenced. Through this, I now recognize the importance of speaking my truth—not just in moments of ease, but especially in times of sadness, fear, anger, terror, and grief. I am deeply grateful for this shared journey of learning and healing.

Fifteen minutes. A moment of truth. Years of tension unlocked.

I am in awe of the power of Compassionate Inquiry, the profound work of Gabor Maté and Sat Dharam to be able to bring this work to others, to witness transformation in real-time, is a gift beyond words.

I am grateful. I am humbled. And I am free.

​What parts of yourself have been waiting to be heard, seen, and expressed?

In Tune & Resonance,
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