Your Body is a Story-Keeper

Your body is a story-keeper. Layer upon layer of energy, emotion, beliefs and memory are written within the tissue. Held for safe-keeping until there is someone present enough to share them with, someone available enough to witness them.

It’s a beautiful experience to be invited to listen to a small stanza of the poem when I work with people in my practice. I am awed, truly each and every time, by what’s shared by bodies, in the silent presence of the session, and what unravels, softens, and opens in turn.

Sometimes bodies are really talkative. They wear their stories boldly on the surface. And other times there are layers of protection I get to witness and gain trust from, in order for them to soften and let me witness the tender parts deeper within.

It changes everything when a seemingly bottomless sense of pain, or fear, or grief, or shame is witnessed.

Shining the light of presence on something deactivates its charge, and mitigates its potency. The felt sense transforms from a giant shadow monster into a scared little child, from a sharp pain to a deep grief that’s able to move and flow.

One thing I know to be true about the body is that it’s always trying to do what it thinks is best for us.

All of our pains, all of our habitual beliefs, patterns, and illnesses are our body’s way of trying to protect us.

We assume a certain role in childhood because it is our way to not only gain love, but survive. We develop a certain symptom because our body wants to bring our attention to something going on. We spike a fever because our body is trying to clear a pathogen from our system.

Everything has a purpose. And when we learn to work with the body, rather than suppressing symptoms, or berating our body for our ailments and patterns, we can heal at the root.

From my 15 years of working with bodies, I’ve found that some of the most healing and helpful things we can offer ourselves are presence and compassion.

These ingredients truly transform. They are what allow the story to be shared. They are what then bring that story into soft arms, and transform it into an experience of being a part of a loving ok-ness. An experience of belonging to something; of not being alone.

This might sound esoteric or obscure, but it is truly the most embodied thing we can do: learn to turn towards the stories that live within us with love and curiosity.

And this is one of the most important things we can do right now to tend our bodies in the midst of ongoing horror, pain, and grief.

This practice helps us stay present, and helps us live from embodied action, rather than undigested reaction.

So let your body feel and move the energies and emotions. Otherwise, they will be etched in the tissue to be dealt with another time.

Can you sense something living in your body wanting to be shared? It might take some practice, but bring your full presence to this part of your body. Feel yourself as a wider loving presence that can envelop this sensation with compassion and grace. And listen.

Invite your body to share. Let the story be told. This might mean you cry, or shake, or scream, or dance. Follow your body's lead. Let them know you're here, and ask if there's anything they need from you.

If you're interested in either receiving support around what's storied in your body, or learning how to listen, there's several ways you can work with me.

In my intuitive bodywork sessions I listen to your body's stories, and help you unravel, liberate and soften them.

In my Reconnection Sessions, I guide you into embodied listening so you can learn this practice yourself.

These sessions are personalized guidance in embodied knowing, energy techniques, plant spirit medicine, and ceremony design.