Skeptic? You Betcha!
If you'd told me five years ago that I'd be writing about energy work, chakras, and holistic healing for kids, I would have smiled politely with a quizzically raised eyebrow and likely changed the subject. I was a corporate problem-solver buried in communications, search engine optimization, LinkedIn posts and PowerPoint decks. I was a C-suite-adjacent Vice President, leading a team and controlling the reputation of companies in dynamic challenging industrial environments.
And as for the benefit of energetics? That was the furthest thing from my mind. Holistic medicine was all a bit out there for me. I’m not sure I even realized what many of these things were. I’d lumped meditation, breathwork, reiki, and sound healing into the same category and determined they were all a little weird and wacky. I didn't have time to sit still. I didn't have the patience. And as a plus size individual lacking suppleness, the handful of yoga classes that I’d attended hurt more outwardly than making me believe there was anything to find if I went looking inward.
Then life cracked me open, the way it does when you stop planning and start surviving. An IVF journey that pushed me to my physical and emotional edges. Losing my Mum which shattered something I didn't know how to rebuild with logic. And the start of a slow burn out in a career that had once brought me so much joy but was now simply going through the motions as resources got cut and my voice got lost in the void. Somewhere in the grief and the exhaustion, I stopped resisting. I tried reiki during IVF. I explored acupuncture. I sat down to meditate.
That last one was the zinger that changed everything.
I went from "I literally can’t stay still for sixty seconds" to sitting comfortably in silence for twenty minutes. And what I found in that silence wasn't nothing; it was everything. It was clarity. It was a conversation with myself that I'd been drowning out with productivity and problem-solving for decades. Going inward didn't make me softer or slower. It made me sharper. It gave me a vision I could never have manufactured in a conference room.
That vision is now a tangible thing - Focused Intentional Things.
Because here's what made me furious the more time I spent in the quiet: not that these practices existed, but that nobody handed them to me sooner. Not as a child navigating big emotions I couldn't name. Not as a teenager white-knuckling my way through anxiety I didn't know was anxiety. Not as a young professional who thought burnout was just the price of female ambition. Most of these tools date back as far as history can take us. Breathwork, meditation, movement, energy work, they’ve always been there. But nobody put them in my hands. And even though by any account, my path has been a successful one, I have to wonder how different it could have been if they had.
Then came my kid’s neurospicy diagnosis. And my own, right alongside it. Suddenly I was sitting in rooms where conversations held with the best intention quickly moved towards medication, management and helping us to fit her individuality into neuro-typical frameworks. Nobody asked, who is she? Nobody said, let's understand how she moves through the world before we decide she's moving through it wrong.
I don't say this to knock medication or traditional treatment; those tools save lives and I respect every parent who chooses that path for their child. You know deep in your heart what your child needs. What I questioned is the speed. The rush to label, to correct, to quiet. Why is our first instinct to manage a child's intensity rather than understand it? Why do we hear "she can't sit still" and reach for a solution before we ask, "what is her body trying to tell her?" Why are we so quick to quell what makes a kid them and put them in a box, rather than helping them discover their own individuality and to flourish within it?
We live in a world that rewards sameness. Sit still. Pay attention. Follow the instructions. And when a kid can't, or won't, we call it a problem. But what if it's not a problem? What if it's just a different kind of wiring that needs a different kind of support, one that starts from the inside out?
That's what energetics gave me as an adult in my mid-50s. And the more I delved into the art, the science and the crazy, I found tools that would not only benefit me in mid-life, but that could just as easily support my kid as she’s finding her way. Not a cure. Not a replacement for our pediatrician. A different way in. A way to help my daughter understand her own energy before someone else told her it was too much. A way to say, you're not broken, you're powerful, and we're going to learn how to work with your magic together.
And it's why I’m building FIT around three core themes: Focused. Intentional. Authentic. Because these practices aren't about adding more to an already overwhelmed parent's plate. They're about slowing down enough to see your child, really see them, and giving them tools to see themselves. Tools that don't wait for something to break before they show up. Tools that cultivate wholeness every single day.
My goal is simple: get these things into the hands of parents and kids earlier. Not as an afterthought, and not as a last resort when everything else has been tried. And especially not locked behind a zip code or a price tag that puts them out of reach. I want to build knowledge around these practices, and help parents curate and embody the ways that work for their unique child. Give them the tools now that they’ll need as they grow and as the world of sameness closes in around them.
I’m a reformed skeptic on these age-old practices. I was the parent doomscrolling in bed at midnight, eyebrow raised, Googling "does meditation actually work?” I'm not here to convince you that the path I chose is the right one. I’m simply here to say: don't knock it until you try it. Sit in the silence for sixty seconds and see what shows up. You might find that the thing that seems the most "out there" is actually the thing that brings your kid — and you — exactly where you need to be. Home to yourselves.
Louise Adhikari © April 2026
