I recently had my first proper constellation session. It was offered by a kindred spirit, with participants who came as volunteers. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’d experienced pieces of this practice before, in drama therapy and elsewhere, but never a full session.
As we arranged the chairs in a circle, I felt a flicker of nervousness. That familiar dread of being exposed and over-seen crept in. But the facilitator’s calm, grounded presence reassured me. Her plain, caring way of speaking made it clear I was in good hands. Some of the volunteers were also dear to me, which softened the edges of my anxiety. When the session began, all I had to do was share four lines about what I needed clarity on. Just four lines.
That was all the facilitator needed. She selected two people to represent the most obvious elements of my story, and they moved into the circle. I sat back, feeling both exposed and curious, unsure of what would unfold.
At first, it all seemed chaotic—people shifting positions, stepping in and out of roles without explanation. The unease inside me mirrored the scene perfectly. It was as if my inner world—ungrounded, shifting, unsettling—had spilled into the room. One participant had a strong somatic reaction and could no longer stand, while another was visibly grappling with the turmoil I had carried into the space.
But slowly, organically—almost magically—a pattern began to emerge, as if some unseen force were weaving the movements into meaning. The two representatives I’d started with expanded into a web of connections. Each participant stepped forward to embody a truth I hadn’t dared to speak aloud. Strangers were playing out the deepest parts of my life—my pain, my relationships, my hidden struggles—with an uncanny precision.
It felt like watching a dream unfold in real time, except I wasn’t asleep. The emotions were vivid, in full technicolor—grief, anger, shame, love—all laid bare. They were screaming the things I didn’t dare to say and crying the tears I had been too frozen to shed. I sat there, astounded, as they reached a resolution I could never have imagined. It wasn’t neat or tidy, and it still doesn’t “make sense” in a logical way, but it was true. And in that truth, I felt something shift deep inside me.
I’m still processing what this resolution means for my life, but I know it has left an imprint. Knowing how energy works, I trust that this resolution brought healing—not just in the moment, but in what we might call “the Eagle Perspective,” the field of energy that holds us all. Just as in the energy healing sessions I give and receive, I’ve already started noticing subtle changes in my mind and behavior.
The boundary between “inside” and “outside” doesn’t really exist. It’s an illusion our limited brains create to make sense of the world. The truth is always there, waiting for us, if we are willing to step into the unknown.
I am so deeply grateful for the beautiful souls who showed up for this. They took time out of their lives to embody what I carry quietly inside—my pain, my resentment—and express it so openly. Their willingness to feel on my behalf was humbling.
If you’ve never tried this work, I highly recommend it. Just as with so much of what I teach and believe, entering the unknown—with like-minded, caring guides and people—is the key to waking up, again and again.
