If you are on a journey of healing from traumatic experiences, it’s possible you are often coached, advised and encouraged to get in touch with your body, connect with your senses, and get embodied.

And while the practice of connecting with our bodies can absolutely be helpful for survivors, it can also feel daunting. Unsafe. Overwhelming.

I want to connect with you about this journey of reconnecting with our bodies, and why it might feel difficult. I hope these words feel supportive and helpful. I hope it comes through that I hold close to my chest the knowing that everyone is on their own journey, that this isn’t a good/bad binary, and that what feels scary at one point can potentially shift. I hope upon reading these words you are reminded that you’re not alone in this struggle, and that this particular challenge might not be a forever challenge.

When you’re ready, let’s gently begin.

Embodiment practices might feel scary or overwhelming if our body has been harmed, violated, and traumatized. Bodybased practices might not feel safe for us, and a lot can come up. Our nervous system might mobilize, and we might experience collapse/dissociation, or activation/flight/fight, just to name a few of the possibilities.

If this has been your experience, there is likely wisdom in these nervous system responses. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you; it might mean you need more or different supports. It might mean your nervous system needs loving attention while you engage in this body based practice. It might mean a different practice or practitioner would be more supportive to you and your process.

Part of what can be challenging is that when folks are offering bodybased practices and they aren’t trauma-informed, we might not get the support and adaptations we need. They might not have an understanding of the nervous system that they can share with us and use to support us through what comes up. They might not have trauma sensitive practices in place. And when this is lacking, and we feel retraumatized through the practices, we might blame ourselves or feel shame.

And then, maybe we avoid bodybased practices because they don’t feel safe for us. Even if part of us feels or thinks: I know this could be healing for me. I did this for a long time, way back in my healing. I could not be in a closed door in a yoga class with a group of folks and a teacher I didn’t know. I just couldn’t. I felt closed off, but I was also deeply rooted to my own wisdom. Something in me was saying: not this. Not yet.

Sometimes what feels like the edgiest lifelong forever “no” is really a “not yet” or “not like this” or “not with you”. And maybe that’s okay.

At the same time, I was working with a somatic practitioner in a relationship I trusted. Doing bodybased work in a setting where all of me could be attended to. And building up not only safety and safe experiences with this somatic work, but capacity for it, too.

I could write for a long time about the journey of survivors and trauma-informed body based practices. I wholly believe they can be so important for the healing journey. AND. I don’t believe survivors should be rushed, shoulded on or shamed. I trust survivors. When they say: bodybased work or this certain bodybased practice doesn’t feel safe for me, I believe that. It is their body, after all.

This wisdom is to be trusted. Consent is of utmost importance. Autonomy is to be nurtured. We must not try to weasel someone’s no into a yes, just because we think such-and-such thing would be good for them. For the love of Pete! ..Whoever Pete is. I have always wondered.

And in my other hand, I want to extend a small thread of hope to anyone reading who feels like bodybased practices are inaccessible. Some of them are. Right now, many might be inaccessible for you. I get that and trust that. And. Maybe there is just the tiniest possibility of building a bridge into your body, embodiment, and somatics. The steps can be small. The bridge’s material can be made of whatever you need it to be. The path might be windy, full of fits and starts.

You might not feel like you are doing much, with one foot teetering on the edge of the bridge. But even imagining the possibility of connecting with your body, for someone who has survived immense harm, is brave and huge. I see you in that. Perhaps, for right now, if this is where you are, just considering. It might not feel like enough, but with so much compassion and warmth I want to remind you that what is small can be like a stone in water, with ripples shimmering endless.

Sending you support wherever you are in this journey.

From my pond to yours,

Jess