Have you ever wondered what a QHHT Session is like?

What is QHHT anyways?

It all starts with an interview....

The Interview: A Blank Page

Take a breath that belongs to no one but you.

Let it arrive. Let it widen. Let it land.

In this room, time loosens its grip.

In this room, nothing is demanded and nothing is wrong.

Only what is ready, comes.

Before you is a blank canvas.

No history written upon it.

No opinion, no verdict, no measurement.

Only the field of your becoming, open and alive.

I offer you this promise:

I will not push the river.

I will not argue with your pace.

I will not judge the colors you choose or the shadows you meet.

I will witness. I will listen. I will keep the door steady while you walk through.

Place a hand where your body asks for it—heart, belly, throat.

Feel the quiet intelligence beneath your palm.

Silently, if you wish, greet the One within who knows:

Welcome, Higher Self. You may paint through me.

Now, imagine the simplest brush in your hand.

It does not force; it translates.

Every breath is a stroke.

Every sensation is pigment.

Every memory arrives only when it is ready to be seen and loved.

If there is something you choose not to paint today,

that is wisdom—not failure.

Nothing true is lost.

Truth waits for the moment that is kind.

If there is something heavy you have carried for too long,

you may set it down at the edge of the canvas now.

Say, if it helps: “What is not mine dissolves in light.

What is mine to keep becomes gentler in my hands.”

Know this:

You are not here to perform; you are here to remember.

You are not here to impress; you are here to belong to yourself.

You are not broken; you are breaking open.

As you paint, I will keep the container:

Confidential, sovereign, loving.

We move by consent, by breath, by the green lights of your nervous system.

Your body is the oracle; your soul is the author; I am the page-keeper.

If tears come, they are rinsing the brush.

If silence comes, it is the color between colors.

If laughter comes, it is the sound of doors unlocking.

And should an old story rise like weather,

we will not fight the storm.

We will hold the window, watch the sky,

and learn the name of the wind that carried it here.

When you are ready, speak the first line of the picture.

It can be a word, a feeling, a place in your body, a scene, a question.

Nothing is too small to begin with; beginnings are holy.

I am here.

The canvas is clear.

The light is kind.

Breathe.

What wishes to be painted first?

AscendingWanderer.com