By Sheila Marina, Planet of Peace Energy Healing
She was 44 and at the end of her rope.
She loved her new husband. She loved her 12-year-old son. And the two of them were so entirely different — so polar in temperament, in need, in the way they moved through the world — that she felt herself being pulled apart by the effort of holding space for both.
She came to me for herself first. Two sessions. The work was meaningful and something began to shift in how she was navigating the tension at home.
Then she asked a question that changed everything: “Do you also see children?”
I do see children, with one condition: the parent remains in the room throughout the session. The child’s sense of safety is paramount, and a parent’s presence — quiet, witnessing, trusting — provides the ground on which the work can unfold.
She brought her 13-year-old daughter first.
In the daughter’s session, trapped emotions surfaced from age 4. The daughter had no memory of the event they were connected to. Her mother remembered it clearly — and as the finding was shared aloud in the room, something opened between them. A moment the mother had carried privately for nine years, believing her daughter had moved past it, was suddenly present and acknowledged. The daughter looked at her mother differently. The mother looked at her daughter differently.
What followed was a conversation more expressive and more compassionate than either of them had shared before. The session gave them a bridge — built from the truth the daughter’s body had been holding — that their conscious minds had been unable to construct on their own.
Then she brought her son.
He was 12. A triple-A hockey player. Often restless in school — the kind of restlessness that teachers notice and parents worry about and the child himself cannot fully explain.
His session revealed something his mother had not expected. Trapped emotions embedded at age 5 — and unlike his sister, he remembered the event clearly. His mother had assumed he was too young to have retained it. She had never asked. He had never brought it up.
When the finding surfaced in the session, his mother’s face changed. And so did his. A door that had been quietly closed for seven years opened — simply because the body brought the truth forward and both of them were in the room to receive it.
The Body Code also identified an essential oil to be applied to the soles of both feet before bed, four nights a week, to support internal calm. A simple, practical, grounded recommendation — the kind the body often offers alongside the emotional work.
Within a week, his hockey coach pulled his mother aside and asked what had changed. Her son’s behaviour on the ice was noticeably different — calmer, more focused, more present. She explained the work. The coach listened.
Then the coach brought his own son for a session.
Here is what those two sessions — sister and brother, back to back — reveal about what children carry:
The daughter held something from age 4 that she had no conscious memory of. Her mother remembered it clearly and had assumed, because the daughter never mentioned it, that it had passed without leaving a mark.
The son held something from age 5 that he remembered vividly. His mother assumed, because he had been so young, that the memory had faded.
Two children. Two opposite assumptions. Both wrong — with the best of intentions.
This is the mirror: parents consistently underestimate what their children’s bodies are holding. They overestimate what young children forget. They underestimate what older children silently carry. They assume that because a child seems fine, a child is fine.
The body tells a different story. A child’s subconscious mind records everything — every raised voice, every moment of fear, every experience of shame, confusion, or loss — with the same fidelity as an adult’s. The difference is that children rarely have the language, the framework, or the felt safety to bring those experiences forward on their own.
The body holds them instead. And it holds them with extraordinary patience, waiting for the moment when someone finally asks.
Children do not typically arrive at my practice saying “I have unresolved emotional material.” They arrive because a parent has noticed something — a behaviour, a pattern, a shift — that concerns them.
Here is what I see most consistently:
Restlessness and difficulty focusing. A child whose body is holding trapped emotions is a child whose nervous system is working overtime. The restlessness that teachers observe in the classroom is often the body’s attempt to discharge energy it cannot process internally. This is frequently labeled as a behavioural issue. It is more accurately understood as a nervous system response.
Emotional intensity that seems disproportionate. A child who melts down over something small may be experiencing the accumulation of something much larger — a trapped emotion that is triggered by a present-moment event but belongs to a different time entirely. The response is real. The source is hidden.
Withdrawal and quietness. The child who becomes very still, very compliant, very easy — this child is sometimes the one carrying the most. Stillness can be a freeze response. Compliance can be a survival strategy. The quiet child is worth listening to with the same attention as the loud one.
Physical symptoms without clear cause. Stomach aches before school. Headaches that come and go. Sleep disturbances. The body speaks in the language it has available, and for children that language is often physical before it is verbal.
Sudden changes in behaviour. A child who was outgoing and suddenly becomes withdrawn. A child who was sleeping well and suddenly cannot. A child who was performing in school and suddenly struggles. These shifts are the body signaling that something has arrived — or something held has been activated — and it needs attention.
The work with children follows exactly the same principles as the work with adults — the Emotion Code and Body Code systems, muscle testing, the body’s own intelligence leading the session. What differs is the pace, the tone, and the simplicity of the explanation.
Children are often remarkably receptive to this work. Their bodies have been holding for a shorter time, which means the layers are typically fewer and the releases often faster. And children tend to accept the process with a naturalness that adults, conditioned to analyze and question, sometimes have to rediscover.
With a parent present in the room, the session becomes something shared — a moment of mutual understanding that deepens the relationship between parent and child. The parent witnesses what the child’s body reveals. The child feels seen — often for the first time in a way that reaches the level where the experience actually lives.
And the conversation that follows — in the car ride home, at the dinner table, in the quiet before bed — is often the most significant outcome of the entire session. Because now there is a shared language. Now there is an opening that both parent and child can return to.
The hockey coach who brought his own son did so because he witnessed a change he could not explain through any framework he already had. A 12-year-old boy — same kid, same team, same coach — was suddenly different on the ice. Calmer. More focused. More present.
That is how this work travels. One family at a time. One conversation at a time. One parent who notices something different in their child and mentions it to another parent who has been quietly wondering about their own.
The shift does not begin with a marketing campaign or a billboard. It begins with a mother at the end of her rope who asks: do you also see children?
This practice is for any parent who suspects their child may be carrying something they cannot yet name.
Choose a quiet moment — bedtime is often best — and sit with your child. Place your hand gently on their back or hold their hand if they are comfortable.
Ask one question, with genuine curiosity and no agenda:
“Is there anything your body has been feeling lately that you want to tell me about?”
The word body matters. Children who cannot articulate an emotion can often describe a physical sensation — a tight feeling in the stomach, a heaviness in the chest, a restlessness in the legs. The body gives them language when the mind has none.
Whatever they share, receive it without correcting, without minimizing, and without immediately solving. Simply say: “Thank you for telling me. I hear you.”
That response — calm, present, unhurried — is itself a form of healing. It tells the child’s nervous system: it is safe to bring this forward. Someone is listening.
If they say nothing, that is equally welcome. The question itself has planted a seed. They know the door is open. They will walk through it when they are ready.
If your child has been showing signs that something is present beneath the surface — restlessness, emotional intensity, withdrawal, physical symptoms, or a change in behaviour — energy healing offers a way to follow the body’s intelligence to the source.
My article Two Boys, One System — And How It Shaped Us is the most personal piece I have written — a reflection on raising two sons whose nervous systems were met by the world in very different ways, and what that taught me about the gap between what systems see and what children actually carry.
When you are ready to explore what your child’s body may be holding, sessions are available in person in Bowmanville and Toronto, and worldwide via Zoom. A parent is always present. The work is gentle, precise, and deeply respectful of your child’s pace.
Your child’s body already knows what it needs to say. It is simply waiting for someone to ask.
Sheila Marina is the founder of Planet of Peace Energy Healing and a certified Emotion Code, Body Code, and Belief Code Practitioner with over 35 years of experience. She sees clients in person in Bowmanville and Toronto, and worldwide via Zoom. planetofpeace.org
