If staying in touch with our feelings is a necessary part of claiming the full range of our compassionate humanity (spoiler: it probably is), we need help to manage the real fear and grief that we sometimes experience in our relationships with one another and with the world.
Enter somatic practice, which aims to integrate what our bodies feel and experience with what our minds know and our hearts hope for. This post is a tools-based follow up to yesterday’s introduction (if you missed it, you can read here), split into two sections. The first part contains three easy tools for grounding wherever you are. The second piece offers two strategies for more in-depth work with particularly overwhelming or painful feelings.
You’ll notice as you read that every practice named here involves (your own) physical contact with your body in some way. This is, quite literally, the point. I’ve been teaching these skills in my congregational context, and a reminder I offer there is that our work in adulthood is not to grow out of what comforts, soothes, and connects us more deeply, but to expand and adapt our toolkits.
Three Tools for Deeper Embodiment in any moment
These are short in duration, easy to remember, and they can, for the most part, be practiced even in public without raising too many eyebrows.
Grounding hug: This is pretty much what it sounds like, but this hug is from you, to you. Adapt this to how your body works; I like to cross my arms over my chest and place a hand on each shoulder. Squeeze to make the hug tight-comfortable, and hold the pose for a bit longer than you might with a friend. Experiment: does rocking forward a bit add comfort? This one might be a bit harder if you’re in a public spot and don’t want to draw attention, but you can absolutely duck into a bathroom stall or find a solo space for the express purpose of giving yourself a hug. In fact, every now and then we probably all should.
I am here now: This is a practice I learned from Dr. Mark Hicks, Meadville Lombard’s phenomenal religious education professor. I tend to raise my hand to do this one, but once you have the idea, you don’t even need to see your hand (though it makes a good visual grounding point if you need one). To start, simply put your fingers where you can see them, and slowly, in sequence, reach one after the other to touch the thumb of the same hand. As you do this, say or think the words of this mantra, one word per touch: I. Am. Here. Now. Repeat several times. For some extra Mark Hicks fabulousness, try placing emphasis on different words as you go. This works well not only individually, but for large groups needing a grounding point between activities or to deepen into awareness.
Five-sense rundown- I often use this with groups in combination with “I am here now”- the idea is to bring a fuller sensory awareness to where your body is in space, as a reconnection with what you are experiencing in real time. Pause, taking a comfortable breath,* and then begin to take an inventory: what is something you see, right now? Give it a name, and then proceed through other senses: what do you hear? What can you smell? Is there a taste in your mouth? I usually end with touch, both taking stock of the skin and pressure sensations I’m aware of on my body, and then giving myself an intentional tactile input by touching something I can reach. You can feel the smoothness of the table edge, note the softness of a corner of fabric between your fingers, gently move a hand across something rough or bumpy. This practice connects us with the physical realities of our current moment, and also reassures at a deeper level: this is what’s really here. Here are five things you can know, for sure.
Two Somatic Supports for Deeper Work
These next tools are useful in the processing of major trauma, and if that’s a description that fits for you, I encourage you to use these together with professional support from a therapist, a well-trained spiritual director, or both. (I’m happy to chat about how to find either of those things if you’d find a thought partner helpful.) One needn’t be dealing with trauma, however, to find these deeper strategies of use; life and relationships present us with many opportunities to notice and experience strong feelings, and supports in that work help us to thrive at any stage.
Welcome, hold, notice, name- This is a practice I learned from Dr. Joanne Cacciatore’s grief work. It’s an exercise that’s technically easy and somehow also gut-level terrifying for many of us. The good news is that it gets easier almost immediately; we develop a muscle for it, and the practice also loses its scariness as we notice that things we may have believed (“I cannot tolerate this feeling” or “If it let this feeling in, it will stay forever and I will never feel anything else”) are simply not true.
What to do: When you notice “that feeling” coming over you, whatever it is, or when you’re not sure what you’re feeling, but it doesn’t seem great, pause. Take a comfortable breath. And then, continuing to breathe in an open way, close your eyes and welcome that feeling. Welcome those feelings, as there are likely several now that we’re paying attention. Welcome and stay with the feelings, noticing their size and texture and flavor, and noticing also when something begins to change. Keep breathing and keep naming as that feeling becomes something else. And then open your eyes when you’re ready, nod toward whatever just happened, and continue moving through your day.
This description may seem so matter-of-fact that you assume I’m talking about passing irritation or noticing that you are ready for some lunch. Those things may also be present, but I want to be clear: welcoming, noticing and naming can see you through the things that bring you literally to your knees, find you curled in a ball on the bed, leave you sitting in your car sobbing, etc. You can use this practice for anything, but it has the grit to see you through the hardest moments, and it packs a powerful bonus in that noticing and welcoming leaves you feeling not only more aware of what’s going on for you at this time, but competent to hold it and survive. You are a badass superhero and your feelings-awareness is your sword and your shield, both. Now you know.
Things that might be true- This is a strategy from relational attachment work. When dealing with a traumatic or painful situation, there are often “truths” we tell ourselves. These “truths” are beliefs we hold about what is happening (or what did happen), and they can serve to frighten us, trap us, and generally make us miserable. These beliefs might be true, or they might not; amid the emotional charge of the situation, we often haven’t held them up to the cold light of day because the punch that they pack isn’t so much about whether the thing is true, but our fear that we could not handle it if it were.
What to do: First, isolate the belief. What’s the frightening or overwhelming or shameful thing that might be true? In this exercise, we are going to try that thing on for size while simultaneously offering holding support for your body. Now, put your body into “grounding hug” position, as explained above. For this exercise, you want to feel held and supported—and you also want to gather and hold more tension than usual in your muscles, just as you might in moments where you take a breath and tense your entire body for a second and then fully relax on the exhale.
Say the thing that might be true to yourself three times, slowly, gathering and holding tension each time. Then, after the third repetition, release your hug and let your entire body relax as you exhale. Pause to breathe as you need to, and then repeat the whole thing, with the same phrase, through two more cycles. Release and relax after the last cycle. Now assess: how do you feel? How did it feel to hold and examine the thing that might be true? A witness I can offer on this practice is that it’s not that the belief itself necessarily goes away, but the charge behind it does. Sometimes when I have done this it becomes quickly evident that the thing I’ve been telling myself is not true. Other times, the belief doesn’t change; in fact, I come to more calmly accept that it might be true, while also noticing in a way that goes much deeper than mere brain-awareness that I can sit with the fact of that thing and still be ok.
Other practices that can help with body grounding: Sex. Exercise, at a level that gets your heart pumping faster and your endorphins flowing. Physical proximity to trusted people. And, I bet you have some tools and strategies as well. You can hit reply or leave a comment; I’d love to hear them.
Hugs and blessings!
j
* “Comfortable breathing” is a phrase and a strategy I learned from the Rev. Theresa Soto, and it changed the way I lead and encounter group grounding practices. The theoretically unifying “Take a deep breath!” sounds like we are all beginning on the same page, but in reality what happens is that I end up coughing or light-headed while others flex their admittedly superior lung capacity. This is merely a glitch where we’re doing one beat of breathing together, but it becomes a real issue when it’s multiple minutes of “breathing exercises.” New idea: everyone do what works for your body! Joyfully!
Resources:
Brown, Adrienne M. Pleasure Activism: The Politics of Feeling Good. Chico, CA: AK Press, 2019.
Cacciatore, Joanne, and Jeffrey Rubin. Bearing the Unbearable: Love, Loss, and the Heartbreaking Path of Grief. 1st edition. Somerville, MA: Wisdom Publications, 2017.
Chen, Annie. The Attachment Theory Workbook: Powerful Tools to Promote Understanding, Increase Stability, and Build Lasting Relationships. 1st edition. Althea Press, 2019.
Greenland, Susan Kaiser, and Annaka Harris. Mindful Games Activity Cards: 55 Fun Ways to Share Mindfulness with Kids and Teens. Box Cards edition. Shambhala, 2017.