Some conversations don’t just live in the mind.
They land in the body.
They move something quietly, without asking permission.
Some conversations don’t inform us.
They work on us.
This week on the Embodied podcast, I had the deep honour of sitting down with Sheila Winter Wallace, a woman whose life has been devoted to one essential question: How do we remember who we truly are—through the body?
Sheila has been walking this path for decades. As a Master WEL-Systems® Educator, CODE Model Coach™, and BodySpirit Integration specialist, her work is rooted not in fixing, but in listening. Not in overriding the body, but in respecting its innate intelligence.
The body is not something to fix.
It is something to listen to.
In this conversation, she shares pieces of her life story with honesty and humility—growing up believing she was “slow,” carrying self-doubt and shame in her nervous system, navigating illness, and slowly, patiently, finding her way home to herself.
What struck me most is how Sheila speaks about the body—not as something to manage or optimize, but as our most powerful communication device. The body, she reminds us, is where our unconscious beliefs live. It’s where fear tightens, where old stories brace, and also where peace becomes possible when we slow down enough to feel.
The body is the final frontier of thought.
It is where peace becomes possible.
We talk about Huna as a lived practice of self-empowerment. About symbols not as abstractions, but as doorways the nervous system understands. About the importance of breath, awareness, and noticing when we are contracting—and choosing expansion instead.
Again and again, the conversation returns to a simple but radical orientation toward self: respect, integrity, and generosity of spirit.
Respect.
Integrity.
Generosity of spirit.
This is the ground we stand on.
There is no urgency in Sheila’s presence. No need to convince. Just a steady invitation to remember.
And then, at the very end of the episode, something rare happens.
Sheila offers a Huna chant.
Not as a performance.
Not as a teaching moment.
But as a transmission—shared with self-permission, reverence, and care.
This is not a chant to understand.
It is a chant to receive.
As she sings, something shifts—subtle, grounding, and deeply reassuring. It’s a reminder that remembering doesn’t always happen through effort. Sometimes it happens through resonance.
The body remembers before the mind does.
If you choose to listen to this episode, I want to gently encourage you to stay until the very end. Let yourself listen with more than your ears. Let your body be included in the conversation.
Listen to the full podcast episode here:
This one is a gift.