At our second meeting, we returned to the subject of ear pain and the situations in which Vojtíšek reacts strongly to noise and shouting. Gradually, a deeper story began to unfold in the session, one I experienced as reaching beyond his present life. Images of another time emerged, carrying pain, fear, and guilt. This text describes another layer of a process that is still continuing.

A Child with Hearing Loss: When Sound Hurts

Sensitivity to Noise, Ear Pain, and a Search for Deeper Connections

At our second meeting, we returned to the subject of ear pain—not as a diagnosis, but as an experience. As we tune in to what is happening in his body, a simple, clear impression comes through: it hurts. His ears. His head. Pressure. Alongside it comes a strong need for quiet.

We return to the situations in which the pain appears: too many voices around him, shouting, tension in the room. His body responds immediately. The sound seems to linger within him long after it has faded outside, as though it has not had time to leave.

My impression is that this is less about disobedience or defiance than the overload of a sensitive nervous system.

A Sanatorium, Noise, and a Child Who Feels Overwhelmed

Gradually, an image of another time begins to unfold in the session.

A little boy, about six years old, stands among adults. The noise is loud, overlapping, and confusing. The sounds are sharp, fragmented, overwhelming.

He covers his ears and runs away. He looks for a hallway, somewhere cool and quiet. There, he finds relief. The farther he gets from the crowd, the more the pain eases.

In this image, the setting resembles a sanatorium, perhaps in France around the year 2000. There are many people. Some communicate in sign language. The sounds feel different, unfamiliar, emotionally charged. No one seems to be trying to hurt him. It is simply too much for his sensitive system.

Vaccination, a Physical Response, and a Changed Experience of Sound

An even earlier image appears in the session.

A baby, about six months old. Until then, he responds well to his mother’s voice, laughs, and is calm. He loves listening to her sing lullabies. Then comes a medical procedure. He sees a needle.

Within this image, the vaccination is followed by discomfort, pressure in his head, heightened sensitivity, and a fever. From that point in the story, his experience of sound changes.

Noise no longer feels neutral; it carries tension. More stimulation brings more pressure in his head. When it becomes too much, his body reacts intensely, from pain and overwhelm rather than anger.

The images continue with further medical treatment, care for his ears, and surgery. Anesthesia brings silence. After the procedure, the pressure inside his head eases. Sensitivity remains and gradually settles. Then comes a moment when he hears his mother’s voice—soft and familiar. This time, it does not hurt. There is relief, closeness, and a sense of safety.

A Car Accident, Guilt, and Forgiveness

The time frame of the story shifts again.

He is about twelve. He is in a car with his mother. She is driving, and he is sitting behind her. An ordinary day. An intersection, a traffic light, everyday traffic. Nothing suggests that everything will change within seconds.

A truck approaches from the side. The impact is sudden and lasts only a few seconds.

Then there is silence.

In the story unfolding during the session, they both die.

Their awareness seems to remain at the scene of the accident. Cars pass, traffic lights change, days go by. His mother feels intense guilt. Questions keep returning: What could she have done differently? What should she have seen? What should she have anticipated?

He senses that it was not her fault. He tries to convey this to her and stays close.

His mother remains a little longer. She needs to move through her own process of release and forgiveness.

As her guilt begins to dissolve, I sense that she, too, is able to leave in peace.

Gradual Changes in Hearing and Work with Deeper Layers

This story offers no simple explanations. In my experience of the sessions, it illustrates how sensitively the body may respond to powerful experiences, and how layers of overwhelm and pain may gradually soften.

During our meetings, I have noticed that his sensitivity to noise seems to be easing. His reactions are less intense than before. There are moments when sound does not immediately bring a sense of pressure.

The process is ongoing. I have observed gradual improvement in his hearing alongside the easing of layers of tension in his body.

There is no sudden transformation, but gentle, noticeable shifts.

These are important steps on the path ahead.