Integration – Dr. Charlotte Meier

I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to write for VoyageSTL three times now—twice this year and once the year before. For a long time, I kept this part of me quiet, perhaps out of fear of being seen or uncertainty around how to hold my own accomplishments. Along the way, I’ve also had other published interviews, been invited onto several podcasts, and spoken to large and small groups about my journey. Each experience has been both humbling and affirming. I wanted to share this most recent interview here as a gentle reminder to myself of how far I’ve come, and as a way of honoring who I am in this moment.

Here’s the published article.

VoyageSTL

We recently had the chance to connect with Charlotte Meier and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Charlotte, thank you for taking the time to reflect back on your journey with us. I think our readers are in for a real treat. There is so much we can all learn from each other and so thank you again for opening up with us. Let’s get into it: What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?

Recently I’ve adopted a new habit: silence and no screens for the first hour of my day. I enjoy slow mornings in my backyard with a cup of coffee or cacao, a breakfast bowl of chia seeds, granola, and fruit, joined by my pup and my partner as we watch the birds and squirrels begin their morning. I like to place my feet in the grass for grounding, and sometimes I’ll gently sway in my hammock while looking up at the morning sky. I’ve also started reading The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron and I am excited to begin writing my morning pages during this quiet time.

After my silent hour, I turn on the screens, check my office schedule, and begin preparing for the day: creating notes, setting up invoices, and responding to emails, texts, and voice messages. On the days I am not in the office, I shift my focus to other tasks such as setting up events, redesigning my website, writing on Substack, mapping out errands, planning future travels, or tending to both business and personal responsibilities. My neurodivergent mind can easily get sidetracked, so abruptly moving from one task to another is common for me. I time block my calendar and keep a task list on ToDoist to stay grounded and make sure I don’t miss important deadlines, because if it’s not listed there, it is not likely to ever get done!

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?

My name is Charlotte, and I am the founder of Alma Luna Wellness, a practice dedicated to whole-person healing. I integrate chiropractic care, acupuncture, energy, sound, and ceremony to create safe and resonant spaces for transformation. What makes my practice unique is the way I bridge science and spirit, offering pathways that honor both the intelligence of the body and the wisdom of energy medicine. Each session is an invitation to remember one’s divine wholeness, weaving together the body, mind, heart, and soul.
My path has never been linear. It was only when life unraveled through sickness, heartbreak, and the collapse of what once looked like stability that I discovered the deeper truth of healing. Each experience became a teacher, leading me to rediscover myself at various points along the way.

My childhood was marked by both financial hardship and the tender ache of my parents’ separation. I carried both quiet pain and an inner strength I could not yet name. Over time, I came to recognize this sensitivity as an empathic ability that would guide me toward a life of service and become an integral part of my practice.

At eighteen, I was diagnosed with Grave’s disease and told I was the youngest patient my doctors had ever seen with this condition. What felt like a breaking point became an initiation, teaching me resilience and guiding me to seek knowledge beyond the borders of allopathic healing. I immersed myself in the study of psychology, anatomy, physiology, and biochemistry to find answers, and my fascination with the sciences became a pathway that helped me understand the body’s intricate systems. This foundational knowledge continues to inform the grounded, integrative way I practice today.

Discovering chiropractic care and acupuncture changed my healing trajectory entirely. Witnessing true natural healing for the first time was nothing short of magical. For the first time in my life, I noticed the subtle shifts in my body, the release of built-up tension, and the way my energy seemed to regenerate from within. Something deep awakened within me. I felt called to share this magic and immediately enrolled in graduate school, eager to learn and bring these modalities to others.
Life, of course, brought other challenges alongside the blessings. In my final year of graduate school, I went through a painful divorce. I buried my grief beneath work and ambition, but unprocessed sorrow eventually turned into burnout. Through soul-guided connections, I encountered Reiki, sound healing, and the sacred medicine of cacao – all of which reminded me that healing is not just physical but also emotional, spiritual, and relational. These practices became the perfect complement to the physical modalities I had been studying, filling in the spaces that science alone could not reach.

After eighteen years of unravelling the physical, mental, and spiritual roots connected to the Grave’s disease diagnosis, I have now been in remission for the past three years. I hold deep gratitude for my past self for her courage to pursue healing and for trusting her intuition along the way.

Currently, I am deepening my studies in Biogeometric Integration (BGI), a healing philosophy developed by Dr. Sue Brown. BGI builds on the original intention of chiropractic: to release interference to the innate intelligence of the body, the organizing wisdom that regulates heartbeat, breath, and every process of life. Unlike conventional views that see subluxations only in structural terms, BGI recognizes both the physical and energetic dimensions of misalignment. Every life experience carries a tone or frequency. If that experience is integrated, it becomes part of the body’s music, enriching the complexity of who we are. When unintegrated, it is stored as dissonance, creating tension and dis-ease. This approach illuminates the geometry of how experiences are held within the body, and how precise and intentional adjustments can open pathways for release, coherence, and integration. In practice, this means that every adjustment is not just mechanical, but an opportunity to evolve. To me, BGI feels like a remembering and an acknowledgment that we are living symphonies, always capable of creative expression. It has become a powerful extension of the work I offer, bridging structural care with energetic awareness.

What makes my work unique is not just the blend of modalities but the lived journey that shaped them. Healing is not a destination, it is a lifelong remembering. My practice reflects this truth, offering spaces where others can rediscover their own light and resilience. Today, I am expanding into resonance-based pathways that allow clients to enter through the door that feels most aligned to them. Whether through bodywork, energy medicine, or ceremony, each offering is designed to create safety, connection, and the conditions for true healing to unfold.

My hope is simple: that in our work together, people feel safe enough to soften, to listen, and to meet themselves more fully.

Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?

The part of me that over-identifies with struggle. For many years I carried my story of pain like an anchor, believing it gave me definition and worth. It shaped me, but it is no longer who I am. The lessons have already crystallized, and the weight no longer needs to be carried. What I release is the attachment to being “the one who endured.” In its place, I choose to embody the one who transformed, the one who listens deeply, and the one who walks in remembrance of joy.

If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?

I would tell her that she doesn’t have to carry everyone else’s pain to be worthy of love. Her softness is not a weakness but a gift that will one day become her greatest strength. I’d remind her to be gentle with herself, to trust her timing, and to know that every challenge she faces will eventually reveal a deeper layer of resilience and purpose.

Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What do you believe is true but cannot prove?

I believe that every experience we carry—joy, grief, pain, and love—has its own frequency that lives within the body. Even though science cannot yet fully measure these frequencies, emerging research supports the idea that our bodies hold these vibrational imprints. Studies on sound therapy and vibroacoustic healing show that specific frequencies can shift nervous system activity, ease tension, and enhance overall well-being. Research into brainwave entrainment and limbic resonance suggests that our nervous systems can sync with external rhythms and the energy of others, influencing how we feel, relate, and heal. Trauma research and somatic approaches reveal that unresolved experiences remain encoded in the body, creating tension or dissonance until they are integrated. Mapping emotion in the body has further shown that people consistently feel emotions in specific regions, confirming that our lived experiences leave tangible traces within us.

I trust that every part of our story is purposeful and that even the hardest moments can be woven into a greater harmony within the body. Healing is not about erasing what has been, but about remembering our wholeness and finding coherence within the music of our lives. I feel that these emotional frequencies shape the way we move, the way we relate, and the way we heal.

Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?

I hope people say that I helped them remember their own light. That I created spaces where they felt safe enough to soften, to breathe, and to connect with the wisdom inside themselves. I hope they remember me not for my titles or achievements, but for the way I listened, for the resonance I carried, and for how deeply I believed in the beauty of the human spirit. If my story is told as one of presence, compassion, and the courage to bridge science and spirit, then I will have lived in alignment with my purpose.

More often than not, I’m the kind of writer who waits for inspiration to strike—unexpected, electric, and usually born out of a soul-to-soul moment with another human being or a deep internal stirring. I don’t force the words. I wait until they arrive on the wings of something real, something felt. I let life lead the way.

Lately, what’s been rising to the surface is the ache for community.

In nearly every conversation, I hear people whisper versions of the same story: “I feel alone,” “I don’t have a group,” “Where are my people?” This yearning isn’t superficial—it’s spiritual. It’s a desire to be seen, held, and understood in a world that often feels fast, fragmented, and disconnected.

We are all longing for home—not just a physical place, but a soul space where we are met as we are.

Making friends as adults is one of the more challenging aspects in life. Creating a community where we feel both autonomous and fully embraced by the whole feels even harder. And in the absence of true connection, many of us—myself included—have tried to fill the void with something else. Alcohol, scrolling, shopping, overworking—temporary fixes for a deeper hunger. These are not signs of weakness, but signs of yearning. These are the ways we try to soothe the parts of us that miss being seen, held, and mirrored.

For a long time, I tried to fill that longing in ways that didn’t truly nourish me. I didn’t always recognize it, but alcohol had become a companion that filled the silence when I didn’t yet know how to be with myself. It softened the ache of loneliness, dulled the edges of stress, and made disconnection feel a little less painful. Drinking was woven into my social life, into celebration, even into self-care. But behind the scenes, it was numbing. It was a placeholder. A way to feel connected when I didn’t know how to reach for real connection. A way to cope with the discomfort of not knowing where I fit in the world.

But what it couldn’t do—what it never could do—was bring me closer to myself.

This June, I’ll be three years sober. Truthfully, sobriety cracked open something sacred within me—it helped me start listening. It led me back to the place I had been avoiding: my own heart.

Sobriety hasn’t just been about removing a substance from my life. It’s been about learning how to live—fully, presently, and sometimes uncomfortably—but also with more clarity and grace than I ever thought possible. It’s been about rebuilding my relationship with myself, and with others. It’s been about opening space for authentic community to enter.

Because when we remove what numbs, we begin to feel. And feeling is the first step to healing.

This healing journey has been supported, deepened, and illuminated through the lens of Bio-Geometric Integration (BGI)—a form of chiropractic care that doesn’t just treat the body, but honors the soul’s geometry.

Unlike traditional chiropractic, which focuses mostly on physical misalignments, BGI sees the body as a symphony of energy, vibration, and life experience. It recognizes that the stress we don’t fully process—whether physical, emotional, or mental—gets stored in the body as dissonant “notes.” These aren’t just knots in the muscles; they are unintegrated experiences that create tension, fragmentation, and disconnection within.

BGI is about more than adjustment—it’s about integration. It’s about helping the body remember its natural wholeness. Each touch, each release, each breath in a BGI session creates space for the body to process what it couldn’t before. It gives us a second chance to feel, learn, and heal.

This is what community must also do for us.
It must help us integrate the parts of ourselves we were once taught to hide.

But here’s the truth: we can’t build true community until we have made contact with the community within.
The first “gathering” must happen inside us—where our mind, body, and spirit learn how to sit in circle again.
To connect to the innate intelligence that true chiropractic philosophy honors—the part of us that knows how to heal when we’re safe enough to feel.

So how do we build community that reflects this kind of sacredness?

We begin with presence.

We build community when we:

Lead with love. Repair and release any negative self-talk. Offer yourself (and others) the kindness, support, and presence you wish someone would give you. Start here and witness the shift in the world around you.
Stop performing and start revealing. Our imperfections are not barriers to connection—they are the bridges. We don’t need to be “all together” to be together. We just need to be honest.
Prioritize integration over escape. Whether through sobriety, breath, movement, or chiropractic, we choose practices that deepen our relationship to self instead of avoiding it.
Create from coherence. When our inner life is in harmony, we naturally begin to attract relationships that feel aligned, intentional, and real.
Trust the geometry of life. Just like BGI honors the body’s natural energetic design, we begin to trust that life has a pattern—and the right people will arrive in divine timing.

If you’re feeling isolated, I want to remind you:
You’re not broken. You’re becoming.

Your people are not behind you—they’re ahead, waiting for the real you to arrive.
And maybe, just maybe, you are the one being called to initiate the gathering.
To create a community that heals by simply being safe enough to feel.

And if you’re on a sober path like me—or considering it—know this: the clarity, connection, and calm you crave is already within you. You don’t have to earn it. You just have to remember it.

The soul knows the way home. We just have to listen.

Learning To Be Seen: A Glimpse Into My Life

The Soul’s Search for Home: A Reflection on Community, Sobriety & Inner Connection