Reconnecting with the body
The body is coming back online, so to speak.
In the West, we have long devoted ourselves to the mind—prioritising intellect, analysis, and cognition—often at the expense of the body. We’ve overridden its urges, silenced its signals, and pathologized natural expressions by fitting them into diagnostic categories. In doing so, we lost touch with the body’s innate wisdom.
Meanwhile, many cultures around the world have continued listening to the intuitive language of the body. They follow the rhythms of the menstrual cycle, honor the hormonal initiations of youth, and respect the wisdom of elders whose bodies carry years of lived experience. These cultures have preserved rituals, rites of passage, and sacred spaces where slowing down is not only permitted—but essential.
In our Western journey away from the body, we had to travel to extremes—scientific, cerebral, and clinical—in order to recognize something that has always been instinctively known by the body. We needed the language of neuroscience to validate what was already felt.
Today, many forms of therapy—including a whole branch of body psychotherapy—are revealing just how transformational it is to involve the body in healing. It is palpable when people reconnect with their physical selves in the therapeutic space. Even within the medical model, we see an emphasis on physical activity—like gym memberships or exercise prescriptions—for those struggling with mental health. It’s an acknowledgment: when we move our bodies, our minds begin to “un-stick.”
In therapy, when we give form to our pain through movement—when we point to where it lives in the body, or give it shape and motion—it becomes something we can relate to. It no longer floats as a vague inner fog but becomes tangible, external, and workable.
Consider the impala that escapes a lion’s grip: it shakes for twenty minutes before returning to rest. This natural discharge of trauma allows the animal to return to equilibrium. Humans, however, tend to experience the terror, suppress it, distract from it, and then receive diagnoses—psychological or physiological—that can shape the course of their lives.
In my therapeutic practice, I welcome the body into the room.
We pay attention to where emotion is felt. We notice when sensation speaks a different truth than the mind. We allow anger to be expressed—not just talked about, but moved through by hitting a pillow, using a stress ball, or simply naming the charge in the body.
This is how we build a relationship with our inner world: not just by understanding it, but by feeling it—by bringing the body back into the conversation.
