I find Thomas Hübl’s work utterly compelling. Ideas such as the integrative healer, post-traumatic growth, natural integrity, and being in right relation with oneself—along with the notion of collective nervous systems and inherited habits that limit our access to potential futures—resonate deeply within me.

Taking Hübl’s advice, I experimented with expanding my “inner-world space.” I wondered: What would that feel like? How might my outer world shift if I deepened my internal perspective? I allowed myself to relate more openly to others, to be more present, and to inwardly host what arose. The results surprised me: some people disappeared from my life entirely, others re-emerged from the distant past, and new ones appeared almost magically, as if summoned by unseen forces.

Hübl explains that trauma is a response to overwhelming experiences, leaving fragments of life force trapped or frozen in time. The hopeful news is that these fragments can thaw and return—like matter escaping the pull of a black hole. Another spark of hope is his observation that one person’s more integrated nervous system can help regulate another’s fragmented one. Both individuals benefit through co-regulation and coherence.

Central to Hübl’s perspective is the idea that integrative healing is a process. He suggests that we must first adjust our pace in order to truly meet and receive another. Only then can we attune to unresolved energies and finally relax into the relational space between two people. His invitation to healers is radical: rather than defending ourselves from others’ energy, we might instead curiously explore the resonance between our wounds and theirs. This perspective feels profoundly true to me.

I also appreciated Hübl’s acknowledgment that unconscious recognition of one another’s wounds is often the foundation of romantic relationships—a dynamic many of us will recognize. He argues that from birth we are shaped by interpenetrating fields of ancestral and collective trauma, which influence the expression of our soul’s energy and contribute to dissonance and separation. Unresolved trauma recapitulates itself. Without maturity and discernment, we may unconsciously uphold trauma agreements with others, reenacting what needs healing.

He draws on quantum nonlocality to illustrate that once objects—or people—have interacted, they remain entangled regardless of distance. This helps explain why certain relational patterns persist across generations and geographies. As Hübl suggests, the ancestors live within us—in our bodies, brains, habits, preferences, reactions, and behavioural patterns. Healing, therefore, must occur across three levels: individual, ancestral, and collective. And the outcomes can be surprising, bringing light into places of “systemic stagnation and familial absence.”

The book includes case studies and quotations from other thinkers in the field. A few that particularly moved me include:

“Whenever one finds himself in a state of conflict with someone or with a situation, he should entertain the hypothesis that the psyche has propelled him into that situation in order to generate consciousness.” — Edward Edinger

“What I felt wasn’t mental; it was alive. And it is always there. It wasn’t created in our group; it was already present. It had been covered or hidden from view.” — Hilary Baer

“The habits, beliefs, and customs of the ancestors influence the behaviour of the present, both consciously and unconsciously.” — Rupert Sheldrake

“The dead are not dead.” — Birago Diop

This book encouraged me to pause and examine my own practice. It offers real hope while overturning familiar therapeutic assumptions. It outlines pathways to healing while acknowledging that historically traumatized communities are often the first and hardest hit. By the final chapter, I understood that trauma communities carry the scars of the world on behalf of the rest of us.

And I am left wondering: is Hübl suggesting that these very individuals and communities—those who have endured and survived—may also be the ones most capable of leading us toward collective transformation? If so, then perhaps their pain may become our salvation