This post shares the lived journey that shaped the Hā Tool and later the ARO-HĀ™ Method. I’m sharing it because regulation and safety are often missing from conversations about change.
A lot of change in my life happened before I ever understood breath, the nervous system, or emotional regulation.
Before that change, my life was shaped by survival patterns. I struggled with addictive behaviours, disordered eating, and accumulated criminal charges that carried a lot of shame. I lacked confidence and often felt like I didn’t belong or wasn’t capable. On the outside, I could function at times, but inside, my body was often tense, guarded, and overwhelmed.
When I had my son, something shifted. He sparked a deep desire to change, to become a better role model. I knew I couldn’t keep living the same way, even though I didn’t yet have language for what needed to change.
What I did have was a willingness to nurture belief — in a higher power, and in a higher version of myself — to help me move through discomfort. Through daily karakia (prayer), nourishing books, and supportive people, that belief slowly deepened into trust. Over time, I came to realise that the sense of being held mattered more than the belief itself. It created safety.
Those daily practices gave my nervous system rhythm and reassurance. With enough safety in place, I began doing things I once believed I couldn’t, quitting smoking, drinking, and mind-altering substances; studying at university despite believing I was “dumb”; learning new skills; and showing up for myself more consistently.
Movement also became important. Training for my first marathon helped me build trust in myself physically. I didn’t know it at the time, but it gave my body a way to release stress and emotion. It taught me that I could stay with discomfort and keep going.
Looking back, I can see why these changes were possible: my nervous system had enough safety to support the shifts I was asking of it, even though I wasn’t consciously aware of that at the time. Movement played a key role in this, giving my body a way to release stress and process emotion. Today, movement remains a non-negotiable part of my practice.
Some of the hardest seasons came later, while I was struggling through university, taking on leadership roles to grow, and navigating my son’s mental health. There was a time when he decided he didn’t want to be in this world anymore, which led to behaviours driven by deep pain. I searched for ways to help both of us move through anxiety, stress, and overwhelming emotion.
That’s when I came across breathwork and began learning about nervous system regulation. It felt like a breath of fresh air.
Breath didn’t replace what had already helped me, it expanded my capacity. It gave me a way to sit with stress without letting it shrink me or keep me stuck for too long. It became a switch I could turn on for awareness and reconnection to myself, creating a layer of safety I could access in the moment.
This was especially powerful during everyday stress. Where I had previously reacted through aggression, saying hurtful things, or shutting down completely, breath gave me a pause. In that pause, I could notice discomfort and stay with it longer, without needing to react in ways that weren’t helpful. My body was learning it could feel fear without losing control.
The question became: What will provide me with enough safety and regulation to keep moving forward?
Again and again, I returned to breath — to steady myself, bring my awareness back, and remind my body that fear didn’t require the same reactions it once did. From this place, I regained access to possibility.
Everyday conversations and choices began to feel different. I had more space to respond with care instead of impulse, and I became more able to sit with failure and rejection than I ever had before. This made it possible to start my own business, navigate unfamiliar problems, and sit with financial uncertainty without shutting down. For over 18 years, social welfare had been my main source of security, stepping away from that required building safety and trust inside my own body instead.
Now, over four years into my business, this is the safest I’ve ever felt — not because life is easy or financially secure, but because I trust myself and my body to hold discomfort. I’ve built enough internal safety to create foundations slowly, stay consistent under stress, and keep moving forward without force.
As I went deeper into somatic breathwork, I noticed increased clarity and intuition — a growing sense of steadiness about how to move forward, even when things felt uncertain.
Over time, this led me to create the Hā Tool — a Māori-inspired breathing trainer designed to support regulation in everyday moments. It offers a simple, tangible way to return to breath and to our higher power, restoring a sense of safety when things feel overwhelming.
I later created the ARO-HĀ™ Method after recognising a clear pattern for emotional regulation within the kupu aroha itself. It is a culturally grounded framework that gives language and structure to navigating hard moments, simple in form, yet life-changing when practised.
I’m not perfect at this process — no one is. Regulation isn’t about getting it right every time, but about returning to awareness again and again. Over time, those small returns begin to compound, creating life-enhancing change and shifts in how we see ourselves.
This mahi exists to help you understand that same process for yourself — so change doesn’t rely on willpower or pressure, but on safety, awareness, and trust built over time
Arohanui,
Julia Wikeepa.xx