Work in progress
Have you ever had your blood pressure taken as a precursor to getting your teeth cleaned? Neither had I, but apparently, this is standard practice at Tend, the Glossier of dentistry. After one too many instances in which my visits started with a time-out due to abnormally high readings, I finally went to a cardiologist. At 36, I was diagnosed with hypertension and started on medication.
A year later, despite increasing doses, my blood pressure remained unpredictable. A casual comment to my OBGYN led me to the nephrology department. One renal biopsy later, I was diagnosed with IgA nephropathy, an autoimmune kidney disease caused by the buildup of a protein that usually helps fight germs. This buildup triggers inflammation, making it harder for the kidneys to function. According to my doctor, I was either a chronic hard drug abuser, or the condition had likely been present for 10-15 years.
Overnight, my life changed.
While there is no cure for IgA nephropathy, managing inflammation and protecting kidney health through lifestyle and diet is possible. Within weeks, I froze my eggs (this is a story), started transitioning out of a full-time job (so many more stories), cleaned up my eating habits (yet another story), and roided up for the foreseeable future. It was a whirlwind of adjustments, but as the dust settled, I began to reflect on what really mattered.
I had always thought stress was a normal part of life, but I didn’t realize the damage it was doing to my health. Stepping away from those stressors revealed how disconnected I had become—not just from my body, but from my mind, emotions, and spirit. I needed to listen to myself on a deeper level and find ways to care for my whole being. But I didn’t know where to start.
Yoga felt like a chore. Meditation? Impossible. Breathwork? Forget it.
Then I remembered the first time I attended a gong bath. I had just landed in Hong Kong after a grueling 16-hour flight for a marathon of store visits across Asia. As a frequent business traveler, I was all too familiar with jet lag and was mentally preparing myself for a week of restless nights. But during that session, as the vibrations of the gong rippled through my body, I slipped into a hypnotic state. That night, I slept better than I had in years.
In reflecting on this memory, I realized: maybe I didn’t need to force meditation or fight for inner peace. Maybe I just needed to rest.
But it wasn’t just rest—it was something deeper. It was the way the vibrations of the gong bypassed my racing thoughts and allowed my body to truly let go. It reminded me of how music can create a similar effect. A minor key waltz takes me back to days at the barre; Chumbawumba’s Tubthumping brings back the bumpy school bus rides of sixth grade; and the bluesy intro to John Mayer’s Slow Dancing in a Burning Room conjures a yellow-tiled house on another shore.
Sound, I realized, has a way of reaching us in ways nothing else can. It carries us beyond the noise of the mind and connects us to something deeper—whether it’s a memory, an emotion, or a long-forgotten part of ourselves. This is the magic of sound healing. It’s not just about relaxation; it’s about using sound to create harmony within, to access parts of ourselves that words and logic can’t reach.
This realization sparked the journey that ultimately led to Rising Sign. Through sound and energy work, I’ve discovered tools that help me—and others— find rest, reconnect with ourselves, and begin to heal.
Because sometimes, the work starts with simply giving yourself the space to rest and listen.
