Embodiment is having a moment. Have you noticed?

I didn’t know what the term “embodiment” was exactly supposed to mean until recently, although I’ve apparently been learning about it and practicing it for a while. One definition says it’s ‘somatic psychology’ that relies on the body for healing. That’s accurate enough, but it’s a more clinical and less vibrant characterization than lived experience with embodiment reveals.

Over the past year, as I dove into the experience and study of a somatic movement modality developed by Finnish teacher, Peter Appel — he calls it Movingness — I’ve experienced a fresh, not-just-from-books understanding of concepts like interoception, proprioception, and most recently, neuroception. The latter coined apparently by Stephen Porges (polyvagal theory guy) to describe the way our autonomic nervous system continually scans for signs of safety or danger without any involvement from the ‘thinking brain.’ There’s gold in those hills.

For me, the butterfingered journey toward embodiment began when I was introduced to a way of practicing yoga that set aside a lot of rigid rules and lightened up on dogma. To be sure, it had a solid foundation, and it framed ‘technique’ as a necessary — but temporary and perishable — steppingstone.

It often takes encouragement and an example by someone we trust to begin to discover it on our own: a treasure that nudges us beyond mechanical body movement toward the freedom unleashed from intelligent, and continuous deep inner listening.

Once this ‘freedom yoga’ suffuses fresh life into asana practice, the sticky mat is transformed into the training ground and laboratory for experimenting with self-trust in other parts of life. That all started more than 20 years ago for me. Off the top of my head, practicing and learning to share ‘freedom through intuitive embodiment’ (I can’t quite work out a more succinct phrase to describe it) has revealed at least two prized gifts.

First, it’s a backup generator for life when stuff gets hard and I’m out of fuel. You know those times: when you begin to feel like a victim of external circumstances. We can be reminded, thanks to just putting in the time on the mat or on the meditation cushion, that the body is our closest contact point to infinity. I’m reminded, as Erich Schiffmann says, that while we shouldn’t neglect ‘the specific’ (our ‘small self’ or individual experience of life), we shouldn’t neglect ‘the infinite’ either.

Even a fleeting moment of recalling this can be the difference between being consumed by difficult emotions and making peace with a more nuanced perspective about them. And in the easy moments, ‘freedom through intuitive embodiment’ is one of the most sensual, pleasurable, and positive ways of feeling the body glimmer of aliveness from the inside out. 

Second? Each person’s experience is different, but I sense it’s helped me be in healthier relationship with others. The most conspicuous way is noticing how much embracing embodiment – and honoring the vast differences among us – has shifted the way I teach movement. The longer I’m in the teaching game, the more certain I am of just how uncertain I am about what kind of practice is most appropriate for anyone else. Sure – and of course – I do my best to share the fundamentals of savvy and safe alignment, the benefits of prioritizing breath, and accessible meditation techniques. But I see now that another human’s inner authority is more informed, intelligent, and competent than I could ever be when it comes to knowing how yoga or mindful movement is best expressed through them. My job, as I now see it, is mostly to encourage others in their own exploration.

Reviving Curiosity

If we’re lucky enough to have a safe and nurturing environment as a kid like I did (thanks mom and dad, you were phenomenal), we might enjoy a honeymoon period in our tender years, when self-trust is second nature.

Then? Teachers and other lifestyle influencers, however well meaning, get their hands on us. They begin to mold our mind clay and erect guard rails around our lines of inquiry. Or pigeon-hole innocent curiosity about the metaphysical realm into a rigid religious structure.

The outcome is erosion of self-trust.

Over time, we get discouraged and look more and more outside ourselves – and certainly outside our own bodies – for approval, for corroboration that we’re worthy of love, or for exterior evidence that we have a place that matters in this world. If we don’t get that approval/validation/evidence? It’s painful. Our suffering grows. To ease it or numb it, it’s tempting to reach for the all-you-can-eat banquet of numbing or self-destructive options.

Rewilding Ourselves

Embracing principles of embodiment throws open the door to a shimmering landscape that acknowledges our shared ‘animal nature.’  It’s a lesson I’ve been slow to remember and learn from start again, but one that is luscious, layered, and compelling. On this front, I bow to cultural ecologist David Abram — author of Spell of the Sensuous and Becoming Animal — whose wisdom spotlights the porous boundary between ourselves and the non-human world. Abram writes about:

“ . . . owning up to being an animal, a creature of earth. Tuning our animal senses to the sensible terrain: blending our skin with the rain-rippled surface of rivers, mingling our ears with the thunder and the thrumming of frogs, and our eyes with the molten gray sky. Feeling the polyrhythmic pulse of this place—this huge windswept body of water and stone. This vexed being in whose flesh we’re entangled. Becoming earth. Becoming animal. Becoming, in this manner, fully human.”

Just as those who imprint limiting dogma on us early in life breed destructive antibodies to attack and weaken our self-trust, self-imposed or circumstance-driven estrangement from the natural world becomes a form of self harm. It blocks our access to the deepest truth: that we are nature itself. We are not ‘connected to’ nature. We are it. It’s not unlike what we’re learning about how the body’s fascia has no beginning and no end.

As embodiment practices become more woven into these lives, the necessity of intimate time in wild, raw nature multiplies a thousand-fold.

Is your body a catalyst for curiosity? Are you getting any joy out of your earth suit? What’s your experience of ‘embodiment’ in this life?