Holding the Light and Shadow

A Practice of Seeing

Good morning, God.
Spirit.
Universe.
Source.

However you are named, I begin here, with an open heart.

This morning prayer has followed me for years, sometimes whispered, sometimes felt more than spoken: Let me open my heart to you. Let me dance in your kingdom. Give me the courage to flourish, and I will dedicate my life to you.

It isn’t a promise of perfection. It’s a devotion to alignment.

Over the last couple weeks, I’ve felt an abundance of joy and trust. Those moments where life feels strangely coherent, where the path beneath your feet feels solid, even illuminated. And alongside that joy, I carry the quiet knowing that these states are not permanent. They are fleeting. They require care. They ask something of us.

This is something I hold close in my work as a therapist.

So many of us arrive in therapy not because joy is absent forever, but because it feels unreliable. We’ve known disappointment. Broken hearts. Broken promises. Sometimes from others, sometimes from life itself, sometimes from within. We learn, often unconsciously, to brace ourselves against hope. To protect against the fall.

And yet, somewhere deep in the body, there is still a knowing. A whisper that says: There is alignment here. There is something true about this path.

Therapy, for me, is not about bypassing pain in the name of light. It’s about learning how to hold both. How to grieve honestly without closing the heart. How to let disappointment move through us without deciding it defines us. How to stay present when it would be easier to dissociate, numb, or harden.

I often think about the sun in this way. The light doesn’t erase the shadows. It makes them visible. It illuminates what is already there. When I say I choose the light, I don’t mean I deny the dark. I mean I choose to keep seeing. To keep feeling. To keep trusting that awareness itself is an act of love.

In my work, I invite clients into this same practice: integrating insight with embodied experience. Slowing down enough to notice what lives beneath the stories. Letting the body speak. Allowing the nervous system to soften, even briefly, so something new can be felt. Not forced, not rushed, but gently earned.

I cherish the light every day. Not because life is easy, but because it reminds me that I am still here. Still seeing. Still capable of choosing love, even when it’s tender, even when it’s hard.

And in this work, in walking alongside others as they learn to trust themselves again, I feel deeply aligned. Not because I have answers, but because I believe in the courage it takes to stay open.

In you, however you are named, I will always choose to see love.
In my clients.
In myself.
In the unfolding path that continues to shape us both.

Hey I’m Chelsea Saunders,

a trauma-informed somatic therapist, Reiki master, and sound therapy practitioner based in Los Angeles. I help people reconnect with their bodies, desires, and relationships through experiential, embodied practices like therapy, Reiki, breathwork, and sound.

If this story resonates with you, explore my services to see how we can work together — online or in person.

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