Somatics in Simple Terms
ft. slides and diagrams
Recently I’ve been experimenting with more and more basic ways to describe the work of somatics to people I meet. It’s a challenge to be succint without losing (what I consider) depth and nuance, because the world of the body is so complex and multi-faceted. That said, the simpler I can make it, the more it also seems to cut through to the essence of what we’re actually doing. And as the general teaching principle goes: if you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough. In that vein, I hope you enjoy the following ‘back to basics’ descriptions. I’ve taken the liberty of including a few slides and diagrams that I use with clients and on social media, for the more visually-oriented among you.
change your state, change your life
Most of us don’t realise the degree to which our nervous system affects our state. A state, in nervous system terms, describes an overall tone or quality of experience that is reflected in the basic bodily functions that are controlled by the nervous system: breathing, heart rate, sensory perception, posture and the movement of energy through the body. Because we are holistic beings, states filter up and out from the body to also impact emotions, thought patterns and behavior.
For example, you could be in a state of agitation, or mobilisation, before giving an important presentation or performance. This state usually includes: an elevated heart rate, faster or heavier breathing, heightened vigilance towards loud noises and bright lights, a dry mouth, shaky or jittery hands, sensations like heat or pumping in the chest or arms, butterflies in the stomach, the winding up of tension in the muscles. It may also correlate to speediness of the mind, emotions like fear or anger, or anxious thought patterns that spiral wildly and feel out-of-control.
On the other hand, when you’re about to fall asleep at night, or when you wake up feeling rested after a good sleep, your state is radically different. In such a state of deep rest, you may experience: a much slower breathing rhythm, or a fuller and deeper breath; a slow, steady heartbeat; languor or softness in your muscles and tissues; a pleasurable sense of contact with the ground or the bed; a melting away of tension from the body. This state correlates with a slow, spacious mind, perhaps with only fragments of thoughts or images moving through in a reverie or a dreamlike manner. Emotionally, you may also feel peaceful, or serene, or satisfied and cozy.
In other words, the state of our nervous system impacts:
how we perceive the world, sense our environment, and track or assess danger and safety
how we experience stress and relaxation
how we coordinate basic biological rhythms and imperatives like eating, drinking and sleeping
how we are in social situations; whether we feel nourished and recharged or drained by others
how we process stimulation of all kinds (sensory, cognitive, emotional and physical)
the kinds of thoughts running through our mind, the emotions we feel and how we organize our behavior and actions in response
and much more.
Change your state, change your life sounds like a cheap line but it's really not—because our nervous system truly is responsible for such a huge part of our experience. It's one of those things that is so subconscious, and so ingrained, that we can't even conceive there could be a different way to be.
Many times we try to find that different way through cognizing—reframing, positive thinking, analysing, talking to a friend with a different perspective, reading, philosophising etc. These ways are valid but they don't always land, because there's no guarantee that a "top-down" (mind → body) approach will actually change the way you feel, or shift your state. It sometimes does, and other times doesn't. It can even make things worse by distancing you from the truth of your emotions, desires, intuition or instincts.
Conversely, when you find a somatic practice that works for you, it's pretty much guaranteed to shift your state, and therefore both your perception and your cognition. We're reversing the direction that we usually approach things from, because working from the "bottom-up", or from the inside-out (body → mind), is generally easier and more reliable. That said, it is an indirect method of approach, so it’s always up to us to make the relevant connections and integrate the experience afterwards, so that it actually leads to long-term change.
what happens inside you when you work somatically
Most of us are largely unfamiliar with the landscape of the felt body (or soma), which is the basic terrain in which somatic work takes place. This lack of familiarity partly comes from the way modern culture socializes us to be—heady, in a word. It also comes from our inability to articulate and verbalize what we encounter inside of ourselves, because we have not been trained to use language in this way. Our words are more often used to silence, dismiss, judge, evaluate, objectify, narrate, analyse… rather than to simply describe, or clearly express, the essence of what we’re feeling and noticing inside.
I’ve mentioned this before, but training in Laban movement was what clued me in to the fact that the things we lack language for automatically redece in importance, because they can’t be communicated, expressed and thereby enriched through mutual interaction. Conversely, when we find language for something, it is automatically enhanced in importance, and comes to take on greater presence in our lives. This is why I like to spend the time and effort to write about somatics—it’s my way of contributing to the growth of the field, and of showing a new possibility in how our language could be used.
Our inability to contact and express our internal selves can translate to feeling unsure about somatic practices, or misunderstanding them in some way. With many of my students, the trouble is not in doing the practice itself, it’s in not knowing what a practice is supposed to do, or feel like, or how to tell if it’s working or not. This then leads to a sense of frustration or confusion, and even beliefs like I’m no good at this, or this isn’t working. Especially when we first begin to contact our somatic selves, the terrain can feel so novel1 that we don’t know how to orient or navigate, which is why a guide can be helpful. My job is often to point out things to you that you weren’t aware of, or that you didn’t know how to relate to.
The lovely thing about bringing language to somatic experience is that it doesn’t require a lot of fancy jargon or technical terms—in fact, these can be counterproductive in some cases, a way to avoid direct contact with whatever is happening. Most of the time what is needed are simple, clear words that get to the heart of feeling and sensation. Such words are usually universally understood, because they capture experiences that are common to all humans.
Below I have delineated some of what you might2 experience through somatic practice. Laying it out in this way can make it feel easier and simpler, and hopefully gives you some signs and landmarks to look out for as you explore yourself.
As you can tell, somatic practice has the potential to affect us on many different levels. This is why it’s so fascinating, and also maybe can be a little intimidating or overwhelming. “How on earth do I hold all of this?” Learning to be with all these different layers of self is an ongoing skill and practice, one that is innate and intuitive to you as a human. In other words, it’s something anyone can do, with patience and understanding, because open awareness is the basic nature of human consciousness.
I leave you with one of my favourite maps of the self, adapted from my Instinctive Meditation training. I love this map because: (1) it’s shaped like a mandala, a sacred circle that contains all of our energies; (2) it’s so inclusive and clear; and (3) it provides so many different entry points to dive into during a practice. I hope you appreciate it, and let me know in the comments if anything from this post struck a chord.
Paradoxically, despite the novelty of it all, there is usually also a deep sense of homecoming to somatic practice, a feeling of landing in your self, because the body is our first home in this life.
I say might because everyone is unique, and your experience (and the language you put to it) will be entirely your own. In fact, the process of you putting language to your own somatic experience enriches our collective understanding of ourselves as living beings.
I really love the way you have described somatics - it perfectly outlines what happens in a body mind practice I teach (called Holistic Pulsing). Can I have permission to use it as a reading for my students (with the appropriate acknowledgment of course)?
I really loved this, and especially the visuals! I meditate a lot (using very embodied practices) and practice yoga 3-4 times a week and though I don’t call it ‘somatic’ this all feels very familiar