Day 54/55: When the Soul Leaves the Body
A Flicker of Feeling
I got a referral for a counselor in Bali.
It was completely random how I found her. At an AA meeting last week, I casually mentioned, “If anyone knows a counselor, can they refer me?” A stranger—someone I had never met before—spoke up. She didn’t give me any details, just that she liked this woman’s energy. We had our first call this morning, and I knew immediately: this was the right referral.
I hadn’t started sessions with her yet because of my travels. I was in Abu Dhabi for a retreat, spending time with my friend and client, Carolyn. At one point, she looked at me and said, “Alex—this is a major trauma. This will affect you for the rest of your life. How could it not? You need a counselor because you need to give yourself the best chance at recovering from this.” And she was right.
My brain has not yet cognitively processed what happened. That’s why I rely on others to reflect the truth back to me. When people speak my reality back to me, it helps me grasp what I still can’t fully comprehend. I haven’t processed it yet because I don’t even believe it happened to me.
What Helps vs. What Hurts
The worst thing people can do right now is minimize it. Trying to make me feel better, pointing out silver linings, or saying, "everything happens for a reason," does not help.
There is no making me feel better. Because I don’t feel anything.
I don’t feel anger. I don’t feel sadness. I don’t feel grief.
I feel nothing.
For the last ten days, my body has been flooded with adrenaline. I didn’t sleep for the last ten days. I am in shock. Finally the shock has subsided, but only from people who were able to support me by doing the following things:
Sitting with me and simply listening.
Repeating my truth back to me. Saying, out loud, what happened—so that I can begin to hear and believe it myself.
Soul Loss and Trauma in the Body
When I met with my counselor, she explained something that deeply resonated with me.
She used to work in talk therapy exclusively but found that for trauma survivors, intellectual conversation alone wasn’t enough. Because trauma doesn’t just live in the mind—it embeds itself into the physical, energetic, and emotional bodies.
In yoga, we refer to these as the five koshas (layers of being):
Annamaya Kosha – The Physical Body
Pranamaya Kosha – The Energetic Body
Manomaya Kosha – The Mental Body
Vijnanamaya Kosha – The Intellectual Body
Anandamaya Kosha – The Bliss Body
I experienced two attacks by an intimate partner last week—one that I was conscious for and one that I was unconscious for. And it’s the one I was unconscious for that’s haunting me more.
My counselor explained why: when you're conscious of an assault, you have a narrative. You know what happened. But when you're unconscious, you’re left piecing together fragments, trying to construct a reality you never got to witness firsthand.
And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing—trying to create a narrative. Because he will never tell me what happened. So I have to figure it out myself.
She told me something else:
"When something like this happens, it’s like your soul leaves your body."
And that couldn’t be a more accurate description. I’ve been telling people I feel like a skeleton. Like my soul has left my body.
And then she named it:
Soul Loss.
What is Soul Loss?
"Soul loss" is a term found in shamanic, psychological, and spiritual traditions to describe a state of deep disconnection from oneself. It occurs after trauma, grief, abuse, or extreme stress.
While not a clinical term, survivors of deep trauma often describe feeling empty, lost, or disconnected from life.
Healing from Soul Loss
The path to healing is about re-integrating lost parts of yourself. There are lots of practices you can do for this, including breathwork, yoga, chanting, journalling, counselling and inner child work.
My counselor and I ended our session with breathwork and meditation. I knew, without a doubt—this was the right therapist for me. Talking in circles won’t help because I don’t remember the attack. I need talking combined with practices that access the subtle body—beyond memory, beyond words.
A Stirring in My Soul
After my session, Carolyn and I visited the Abrahamic House in Abu Dhabi—a landmark of interfaith unity. It contains a mosque, a church, and a synagogue side by side.
I had no expectations. But as I stood inside the mosque, something shifted. For the first time since the attack, I felt spirit for a fleeting moment.
So far, the only moments I’ve felt alive inside this skeleton have been while chanting mantras on my harmonium. But in that sacred space, for a few fleeting seconds, my soul stirred.
I was fascinated by everything the tour guide was explaining to us about Islam. It seems like there is so much structure. For example, there are five pillars, five prayers each day, and seven heavens. I felt like the annoying kid at school who kept asking the teacher questions.
I’ve been interested in Islam for the last year, but today I was really feeling it. I started to think about how common it is for people to turn to faith after experiencing trauma. Sometimes you see people that have a radical shift and become suddenly devout Christians or Muslims and you don’t know why. I feel like I get it now. Spirituality and religious beliefs often become a crucial part of the healing process for many trauma survivors. This phenomenon is known as spiritual transformation or post-traumatic growth, where people seek meaning, connection, and strength in faith after experiencing deep pain.
Today after leaving the Abrahamic House, I said to Carolyn—”I’m obsessed with Islam. I don’t even know what it is about it. Maybe after this I’ll convert to Islam?”
Carolyn laughed, “Don’t make any big life decisions right now.” She’s right. But now I understand why people turn to faith after trauma.
Because it feels like the only way back to God.
Each day, I’m working on my recovery.
Each day, I take one step out of shock.
Each day, I create a plan to heal.
I said to the students on my retreat this weekend during my last dharma talk, “I want to acknowledge that I was not the yoga teacher you expected this weekend, and I really appreciate you holding space for that. You have been literally watching me put back together the pieces of my life right now, in real time. And I will remember this weekend for the rest of my life. And I am so, so grateful.”
And I think all of you, the people that have been reading my Substack have been watching me put back together the pieces of my life in real time, too.