Is It Sensory Overload—or Sensory Wisdom?

Exploring Auras, Biofields, Autism, and the Subtle Art of Perception

I used to think my brain was misfiring.

I’d see a faint translucent film/ energy around people when no one else could. Smell things that weren’t there—sweet, smoky, earthy scents that came and went like visitors. And I could feel music in my fingertips and through my body, as if the sound was alive and moving inside me.

For a long time, I kept these experiences to myself. I assumed they were just glitches—quirks of an overactive brain. I’d been told I was too sensitive all my life. Too emotional. Too intense. Too much.

But as I got older, especially after learning about autism, I started to wonder… What if it’s not a glitch at all? What if it’s a gift?

What if people like me are simply tuned in to something that others have forgotten how to sense?

Living in a Body That Picks Up Everything

Being autistic means I experience the world differently.

I notice things most people filter out:

the pitch of an electric light,

the buzz of a phone in another room,

the shift in energy when someone walks in feeling upset but says they’re fine.

It’s not just mental—it’s physical. My nervous system reacts to it all. My breath tightens, my muscles tense, my skin prickles. The world can feel loud even when it’s silent. (It’s why I cherish time alone)

But that same sensitivity that once overwhelmed me has also helped me become a sound healer. When I play a gong or a singing bowl, I don’t just hear it—I feel it. I know when something has shifted in the room, even before a client says a word.

Some would call that intuition. Others might call it reading the biofield.

What Is the Biofield, and Can We Really Feel It?

I’ve asked this question more than once—both in my head and out loud:

"Is the biofield real, or is it just a made-up idea?"

"Can you really feel energy outside the body?"

"If science can’t detect it properly, how can I?"

From a scientific point of view, we know the human body generates electromagnetic fields. The heart’s field is the strongest, measurable several feet away. The brain and nerves also produce electric and magnetic activity. These aren’t fringe ideas—they’re biology.

So in one of my many rabbit holes, navigating misinformation / information, scientific papers and now (ChatGPT), I asked: is the biofield real, is there something that can be measured, if there’s a pattern can it be picked up by scientific instruments? I needed proof, I wanted to understand more about what I see and feel. And the answers that came back:

"Yes, there’s a field. Yes, it’s patterned. But science hasn’t mapped the whole thing yet—especially the subtle stuff people like you say they can feel."

That struck a chord with me. Because I do feel it. Not always clearly. Not always explainably. But I’ve felt shifts in the air when moving a tuning fork through space. I’ve heard a fork and Himalayan singing bowl, change pitch and go sharp or dull in certain areas without touching anything physical. I’ve noticed my own body respond to ‘empty’ space as if something was stored there. I used to think, “am I going mad? Is this real?” I always need answers.

Autism, Sensory Sensitivity, and the Healer’s Nervous System

I’ve known for a while now that I experience the world differently, I didn’t understand it all until I learnt I was austitic and then everything started to make sense in my life.

Before an eczema attack, I often smell something strange—like burning, chemicals, or something earthy. Then I start feeling uncomfortable. My body goes on alert. It’s not panic—it’s more like internal static. Almost like my body knowswhat’s coming before anything appears on the skin. I have known the scientific term for this for years, it’s synaesthesia, I have often thought is this a curse or a gift?

And it’s not just eczema. I’ve had these strange bodily sensations, phantom smells, and flashes of discomfort for years—like my body is picking up early signals others don’t notice.

That used to feel like a curse. Now I wonder if it’s actually a kind of deep body awareness—another form of tuning in.

It’s not just synaesthesia, people with autism often have heightened sensory processing. Their nervous systems register more of the world—light, sound, smell, touch—without the usual filters. In a healing context, that can mean picking up on very subtle shifts that others miss. This makes me wonder are most healers neurodivergent? Is this the reason they make the best healers? Are we an evoluntary step to tuning in more?

When I think about how I use sound in my work, that makes sense. I don’t just hear a gong—I feel it in my fingertips, my jaw, my ribs. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m playing the gong or it’s playing me.

And sound has always been my superpower.

Even as a child, I could hear things others couldn’t. The buzz of electricity in plug sockets. A pin drop from a room away. I still hear the high-pitched buzz of streetlights or fridges others seem to tune out. That level of hearing can be overwhelming, yes—but also deeply informative. It tells me when something’s off, when someone’s energy is unsettled, when the room is out of balance.

And maybe that’s what makes people like me effective in healing work—not just the tools we use, but the way our nervous systems never stop listening.

Auras and Energy: A Practice for the Curious

I often see a transparent / translucent film/energy (or what ever you like to call it) around people. I never talked about it much—it sounded too “out there,” even to me. But the edges were there—soft glows, edges, movement. And the more I paid attention, the more consistent they became.

If you’re curious, try this:

Hold your thumb and forefinger close together—just a hair’s width apart—and slowly move them in a small circle.

Take your time. Watch the space in between. Feel it.There’s something there, isn’t there? A slight resistance, a subtle pressure, maybe even a shimmer of light or a flicker of colour.

That’s the beginning of seeing energy.

You don’t have to "believe" in auras. You just have to be still enough to notice.

Misfiring—or an Evolutionary Step?

So now I ask:

"What if this isn’t misfiring—but evolving?"

What if the things we call disorders, dysfunctions, or glitches are actually early signs of a wider sensitivity?

A broader awareness?

A nervous system that’s simply picking up more of the world than our science can yet describe?

"The body doesn’t just run on chemistry—it runs on patterns, rhythm, vibrations. The nervous system is a living sensor. If there’s a pattern in the biofield, and your system is tuned in, then yes—you may feel it even if we can’t measure it yet."

Maybe the people who hear the tone change in a tuning fork… Who feel music as touch… Who smell what’s coming before the skin reacts… Who sense tension in the space around the body…

—aren’t broken.

Maybe they’re just tuned in to a part of the human system we haven’t fully understood yet.

Maybe you reading this have had similar experiences—and wondered whether it was all in your head.

If so, you’re not alone.

And maybe you’re not "too sensitive" either.

Maybe you’re just sensitive enough to notice the language your body has always been trying to speak.

Final Thought:

"Maybe, just maybe, we are not machines misfiring—we are instruments learning how to listen."