We all encounter adversity in life. And for many of us, that adversity begins early—in childhood, infancy… even while we’re still in the womb. Many of us experience abuse during childhood—whether from parents, siblings, school bullies, or other sources as we grow older. Then there’s the stress of work, the wounds from painful breakups, ghosting, rejection, divorce—heartbreaking relational trauma that many of us were never able to fully process.

Because we never learned how to work effectively with our emotions, we internalize the stress. Over time, the residue of everything we haven’t fully felt or digested accumulates in our bodies—lodging itself in our cells, organs, and tissues. It deadens us. It distorts the way we perceive the world, other people, and even ourselves. It alters our biochemistry, disrupts our hormones and neurotransmitters, and reinforces holding patterns that trap us in cycles of painful reenactment.

We disconnect from the authentic core of our being—that deeper presence that lives inside us and links us to a higher power. As that connection weakens, we lose access to the very source that could help us heal.

Having suffered a great deal of trauma throughout childhood and adolescence, I carried deep attachment wounds into adulthood—rejection and abandonment that felt so overwhelming, I often didn’t know how to make sense of it. At the time, my understanding was limited. My perception of people and the world was distorted because I was seeing everything through the filter of my own emotional wounding.

The pain I felt in response to repeated experiences of abandonment, unrequited love, and relationships blowing up on me was excruciating. Intuitively, I began to breathe softly and deeply while fully immersing my awareness in the depths of those all-consuming emotions—often continuing to do so for hours at a time. Yet, at a certain point, I could feel the pain breaking open and coming out of my body in waves.

Underneath that pain, I began to feel these powerful emanations of warmth flowing from within. As that happened, I felt a growing connection to the inner core of my being—an eternal part of myself that lives through all time—and to a higher power.

As my attachment wounds began to heal, the pain lessened. Continuing to be guided by my intuition, I started making a concerted effort to face any issues, concerns, or challenges as they presented themselves. I would also breathe into any feelings or bodily sensations that arose in response. As I did so, I could sense that it was activating the innate healing intelligence residing within my body and mind. Emotions such as sadness, grief, frustration, and anger would take on a fluid quality—often softening and becoming more diffuse. After some time, I realized I also needed to be working in a similar way with the more pleasant and enjoyable feelings—such as joy, excitement, anticipation, and feelings of desire or attraction.

As I continued to breathe from the depths of any feelings or bodily sensations that arose—especially while doing so for extended periods of time—I could once again feel the connection to my inner core being and the higher power. I could also feel that it was awakening my mind's creative problem-solving capabilities, and in many instances, I would come up with workable solutions to any challenges I was facing.

Alone in the Midst of Millions

Although I loved many aspects of the culture and food—and the deserts and mountains of Northern New Mexico—I found it difficult to maintain a practice. Over time, I discovered that many other practitioners—martial arts and yoga teachers, chiropractors, acupuncturists, and even conventional allopathic physicians—were facing similar challenges due to the lack of follow-through. So when the opportunity to work in New York City and Boston presented itself, I jumped at it.

New York City was exciting in many ways—the thriving jazz and experimental music scene, the energy, and people from every country on the planet. But I soon discovered that it could be difficult to form any kind of lasting or meaningful connection. People would often show up in my life only to disappear. At times, I’d meet someone spontaneously, get into a really animated conversation, feel like I’d just made a new friend—only to never see or hear from them again. I’d be left afterwards thinking, “What was the point of all of that?”

With notable exceptions, I usually find it easier to relate to women than men—probably because I feel we have more in common and there’s a lot more to talk about. I’ve had lots of platonic female friends over the years—classmates, professionals, stay-at-home moms—and spent a lot of time with them, often meeting for lunch, going for walks, stopping by their homes, and sometimes staying over whenever I traveled across the country or abroad.

Wherever I went, I would often engage with the women I encountered. While I very much wanted to have someone in my life I could partner with, I approached each interaction with an openness—asking myself, What kind of connection does this want to be? I stayed open to romantic possibilities, yet I was also totally fine if it turned out we were simply meant to be platonic friends.

Having lived in parts of the Midwest and the desert Southwest, I found people to be more open, trusting, and emotionally available. Yet in New York City, I encountered a guardedness among many women—a kind of mistrust or suspicion. Some of that is certainly justified, given the horrible experiences so many women have had with men. But it also seems to have a lot to do with mindset and culture.

While some might argue that it’s just the nature of living in such a densely populated urban environment, I’ve spent lots of time in cities in other parts of the country and around the world—including places that were far more dangerous than New York City—and still found more openness. I also found that women in those places were more in touch with their intuition.

There were times—like during the financial crash of 2008–09—when the “banksters,” those white-collar criminals in the financial industry, tanked the economy and the bottom fell out from under so many of us. I was in full-on survival mode, scrambling to find enough work just to make ends meet, and I didn’t feel I could afford to leave New York City. What also kept me anchored was my training with Shifu Li Tai Liang in the internal martial arts of Xin Yi Quan and Baguazhang. As hard as things were, I knew I had a rare opportunity—and despite how much I was struggling in the city, I didn’t want to walk away from it.

There were so many instances during those years when I’d meet women spontaneously in the city and fall into these long, open conversations—moments where they were letting down their defenses and genuinely opening up. We’d often exchange contact info, and I’d follow up with a thoughtful text or voice message—and then… nothing. They’d vanish.

Over time, I came to realize it’s not just the women in New York City. Men—while generally not as guarded, perhaps because they’re less concerned about their safety and well-being—often show up and then disappear as well. It continues to befuddle me. Many people in New York seem open, friendly, even genuinely engaging—at least initially. And yet, I’ve found a striking lack of constancy.

Despite my efforts, I couldn’t seem to establish any kind of meaningful or lasting connection. It left me with this painful, empty void. To cope with the profound sense of loneliness I felt, I just kept breathing into that void. In many ways, I feel like that was the only thing that kept me sane during those years.

As I kept breathing into that painful, lonely void, I could often feel the presence of my inner core and the higher power. I had to rely on that presence to sustain me—because I certainly wasn’t getting my needs met otherwise. It was during that time that my intuition led me to India and Sri Lanka. Although it was challenging in many ways, I somehow managed to create a life on two different sides of the planet. Other than a few friends, I never did form any kind of meaningful, lasting romantic or even platonic connection in the city. Yet I’ve been in two serious relationships over the years with women in Sri Lanka and have formed numerous other lasting connections there.

Ever since coming out of Covid lockdown in 2020, I’ve been traveling a lot more—and I still make the effort to be open and engaging wherever I go, including during my time in New York City. And yet, despite all my efforts, connection here often feels elusive. I see couples everywhere—on the street, in cafés, on the train—but for me, those kinds of moments have only shown up briefly, if at all, in this city. Maybe I’m not on the right wavelength here. Maybe the rhythm, place, or vibe just doesn’t sync with mine. Thankfully, in other places I’ve been spending time, there’s a greater sense of continuity—more openness, more presence, and more of the meaningful connection I’ve been longing for.

When the World Stopped

During the height of the Covid-19 lockdown, the world as I knew it—like it did for so many others—fell out from underneath me. For many years, I had been teaching classes on a weekly basis while also maintaining a practice working with people individually. Suddenly, I found myself at my mom’s place in Northern Idaho, with all this time on my hands and not quite sure what to do with myself. Rather than waste inordinate amounts of time scrolling through social feeds, consuming news, or binging on documentaries, I made a decision: I was going to do at least three hours of intensive daily meditation practice.

For years, I’ve found it difficult to get the people I work with to consistently do the practices I’ve taught them. Maybe they’ll do fifteen or twenty minutes here and there—or only when they’re actively working with me. That makes my job so much harder. Their bodies are more armored and are often holding a great deal of stagnation.

On the other hand, those who commit to a consistent daily practice—an hour or more—show up very differently. Their bodies and minds are far more malleable, and therefore much more responsive to the healing work. As a result, they progress at a much faster rate and experience far more powerful outcomes.

Even though I had been practicing consistently, I wasn’t getting quite as deep. But when I extended my practice to three hours a day during lockdown, I could feel myself descending through successive layers—accessing emotions and thought processes that had operated outside of my conscious waking awareness for years, if not decades. I was finally accessing the underlying forces that had been driving my own habitual, limiting patterns of thought and action.

And yet, as I continued with the extended practice, I could feel so much of that dissolving. These parts of myself were becoming more fluid—initiating new cycles of growth. And not only that. As I kept working my way down, dissolving those successive layers, I could feel the authentic core within me and my connection with a higher power growing stronger.

While sitting in meditation for such extended periods, I would often encounter a great deal of resistance. It would show up as antsiness, restlessness, boredom—or just a general difficulty being still. My body would tense up in places, and I’d find myself opening my eyes to check how much time had passed.

But over time, I started bringing as much awareness as I could to all these expressions of internal resistance—fully immersing myself in the discomfort as it arose. The tightening in the back of my neck, upper back, and shoulders were signs that stress and unresolved emotion were surfacing. As I continued to breathe into those places for extended periods of time, the tension would begin to soften. The emotional body armor would start to dissolve.

The more I stayed with this process, the more I could feel myself breaking through successive layers of numbing. Parts of me that had long been unconscious—operating outside my waking awareness—began to stir. And over time, they continue to wake up.

In those moments, I feel something else—something deeper—begin to emerge: a comforting presence, emanations flowing from deep within. As that happens, I can feel the authentic core of my being growing ever stronger.

Even though lockdown is fading further and further into the rearview mirror, I’ve continued to practice for extended periods of time—mainly because I find that my practice goes so much deeper and becomes far more powerful. There’s something about staying with the process for long stretches that allows me to access deeper layers of my being.

Sometimes, when I sit for these extended periods, the emotions rise like steam from deep within. At other times, it feels as though the molecules in my body are spreading out—like my whole being is oscillating. There’s often a rawness, a kind of nakedness, as though I’ve shed layers of stress and stagnant emotion. I become more sensitive, more attuned. And the more I strip away those layers, the more I clear the stagnation from my body and mind. My senses sharpen. My intuition and instincts grow stronger. I have more bandwidth—more internal resources. I feel lighter, less weighed down, and more capable of acting on my goals and navigating life’s challenges.

As these parts of me heal and become more integrated—functioning as a cohesive whole—I find myself becoming more powerful, more effective, and more resourceful. I really like the feeling of aliveness it brings… and the sense that I’m continually evolving.

That doesn’t mean I don’t continue to face challenges in my life. I most certainly do—but I make a concerted effort to take whatever life brings and use it to facilitate my continued healing and growth.

Clean Up Your Diet—Strip Away What Numbs You

Stripping down the layers to your inner core isn’t just about emotional processing and meditation. What you eat also plays a major role in either revealing—or burying—that core.

If you’re living on garbage—refined sugar, processed foods, pop—you’re not just feeding your body junk, you’re sedating yourself. Smoking, alcohol, and other recreational drugs, and many of the medications people rely on only compound the problem.

These substances dull emotional sensitivity, create stagnation within the body, and disconnect you from your core. They keep you inflamed, foggy, emotionally reactive or numb, and spiritually flatlined. You might be doing the work to heal, but if your body is overloaded with toxicity, you're constantly pushing uphill.

I see it all the time in the people I work with. And I’ve experienced it in my own body. Cleaning up your diet is an important part of clearing stagnation—it makes it far easier for you to access your feelings, process your lived experiences and emotional responses, and reconnect with who you really are beneath the avoidance, stagnation, and emotional armor.

When you stop numbing and start feeding your body the nourishment it actually needs—whole foods, clean proteins, healthy fats, vibrant fruits and vegetables—you gain clarity. Emotions begin to move more freely through your system. And you become far more capable of doing the deeper work.

The foods you consume either support the life you’re here to live—or drag you further from it. They can strip away the layers of numbness—or reinforce them. Two essential questions to ask yourself:

Are the foods I’m eating facilitating my healing?

Or are they sedating me—and the emotions and realities I’m avoiding?

Burning Through the Sediment

Another powerful practice I’ve found to strip away the accumulated layers of stress, emotional residue, and internal clutter is through fasting. The foods we consume—especially the heavy, processed, and other emotionally deadening varieties—often act like a kind of glue or cement, holding stress and emotion in our cells, tissues, and organs. They can dull our awareness and make it harder to access the deeper layers of our emotional body.

There have been times when I’ve gone on water fasts, and it’s during those periods that so much of what I’d been carrying—unprocessed emotions, current and old stresses, buried memories—suddenly became more accessible. As the veil dissolves, I’m able to feel more, see more, and go much deeper into meditation. The silence becomes more alive. My mind becomes clearer. And I'm able to digest the impressions of my lived experiences, along with the fragments of grief or fear and lots of other emotions and stresses I didn’t even know I was still holding onto.

Despite the hunger, there’s often a sense of heightened awareness and sensitivity—a deepening connection to my inner core being and the higher power. It strips away the noise. The cravings, the restlessness, even the discomfort—all of it becomes part of the practice. And when I stay with it long enough, I can feel something sacred breaking through the surface.

Digesting the Remaining Trauma and Emotional Residue

The traumatic wounds we carry often run extraordinarily deep. Add to that the reality that so many of us are living in survival mode—working and commuting long hours, struggling just to make enough money to cover our basic living expenses, let alone save for retirement. We’re dealing with intense work-related stress while also facing all kinds of challenges in our relationships—whether it’s with the person we’re partnered with or the difficulty we face in forming any kind of meaningful, lasting connection. So many of us aren’t getting our basic needs for love and companionship met. And while we suffer immensely because of it, we just keep pushing on.

And now, with smartphones and digital media, it’s even worse. We're constantly flooded with information and stimulation. Our systems are in sensory overload. We can’t process what’s coming in, and so it stays trapped in our bodies. It dulls our awareness, affects how our brains function, and keeps us even more disconnected from the authentic core of our being.

The practice I described—of acknowledging what’s happening, noticing what we’re feeling in response, and then breathing softly and deeply while fully immersing our awareness in the depths of any feelings or bodily sensations that arise—is crucial. It helps us to digest our lived experience and emotional responses. Considering the challenges so many of us are facing and the toll it’s taking on us, we need to be making time to work with this practice every single day. In fact, consistent daily practice mitigates much of the wear and tear while replenishing our bodies and minds.

With that said, there are limits to what the body and mind’s innate healing intelligence can do on its own. That’s why it’s so important that we make consistent use of the most effective therapeutic interventions available to us, as we need all the support we can get. That’s also why I encourage people to stay open, experiment with different therapeutic approaches, and continue with those that prove to be most effective.

For many years, I’ve relied heavily on deep tissue massage, partly because it frees up so much of the stress and emotion that’s been held within the body. And as these stresses and emotions begin to surface, I’m able to process them using the same practice I described earlier.

The most powerful of all the interventions I’ve done are the sessions I’ve received from gifted healers—and the vision quest, a traditional Native American practice that involves fasting alone in the mountains for four days and nights without food or water. During the vision quest, I can at times feel an extraordinarily powerful presence descend into my body. As that happens, I often find myself reliving past trauma and other stressful life events, along with the emotions attached to them. I can feel this same presence working within me—rebuilding from the inside out, creating a much stronger and healthier foundation. In the midst of it all, I can feel the authentic core and the presence of a higher power residing deep within growing ever stronger.

Fuel for Your Continued Growth

It’s important for us all to embrace life as it presents itself—to the best of our ability. That’s not always easy. Life can be stressful, often evoking a wide range of emotions—many of which are not so pleasant. But our lived experiences, along with the emotional responses they stir within us, need to be digested. When we do that, we transform them into fuel for our continued growth.

We facilitate this process by bringing our awareness to the feelings and bodily sensations that arise in response to our experience. And as I said earlier, it’s also essential that we make use of the most effective therapeutic interventions—especially for the healing we cannot do on our own.

By doing so, we not only build a stronger internal foundation—we become the living embodiment of the authentic core that has always resided deep within us.

Having trained with a traditional Native American doctor (medicine man) from the Kiowa Tribe—and having gone through so many vision quests—I work as a conduit, as indigenous healers have done for centuries, allowing an extraordinarily powerful presence to work through me to facilitate healing within people’s bodies and minds. During the individual sessions, you're able to digest your lived experiences, and the emotions attached to them.

This process helps you build a much stronger and healthier foundation, gain clarity and insight, and develop greater resilience—along with the inner resources needed to fulfill what you're here to do in this lifetime. With each session, you become more of the embodiment of the authentic core that resides deep within.

If you feel called to do this work, click the link to send a message or call me directly at (332) 333-5155 to schedule a session.

©Copyright 2025 Ben Oofana. All Rights Reserved.

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Stripping down the layers is about coming back to the truth of who you are—beneath the pain, the fear, the filters, the noise. Reconnecting with the presence within that has always been there, waiting for you to return.