21/09/2025
The TUNING FORK holds our memories.
I recently treated a man who survived two separate assassination attempts. The first bullet passed through his jaw. The second time, seven bullets penetrated his upper body and both arms. While working in his biofield, something unexpected happened — the tuning forks rotated in my hands, tracing the trajectory of those bullets. When I worked over his torso the forks moved again, this time with an up-and-down turbulence I’d never felt before.
When I assessed the field at the age the events occurred (55), the forks showed the disturbance clearly. It left no doubt for me: our fields record experience — at the precise moment it happens.
The better news is that these imprints are not permanent. As we worked to diminish the turbulence in his biofield, Pete reported feeling less stressed. Friends later commented that his demeanour had changed — calmer, more present.
If nothing else, this reminded me that trauma is lodged not just in stories or scars but in subtle layers of the self. And that careful, respectful work — whether with tuning forks, light, or skilled hands — can shift those layers and restore a little more ease to a life that has known too much violence.
If you’re a clinician curious about biofield work or how subtle tools can support recovery, I’d love to hear what your thoughts are on using the Tuning Fork in the biofield.
