The Wisdom of Sensation: What Your Body Has Been Trying to Tell You

A return to the quiet language beneath thought.

“The body speaks in sensation. The question is: will we slow down enough to listen?”

Long before we have words, we have sensation.

Before memory.

Before story.

Before we knew how to explain what we were feeling—we felt it.

The tightening in the chest.

The sinking in the belly.

The electric pulse of anticipation.

The heat behind the eyes.

These are not distractions from healing. These are the doorways.

In my work, whether with clients in somatic therapy, integration, or relationship transitions, I return again and again to the simple truth:

Your body has been telling the truth all along.

It doesn’t speak in diagnosis.

It doesn’t offer justification.

It doesn't always explain itself.

But it knows.

And it is always speaking.

Our work is to relearn how to listen.

Sensation Is the Language of the Present Moment

In the world of somatics and Gestalt, sensation is not just a feeling—it’s a guidepost. It tells us where we are, how much we can tolerate, and what we’re ready to meet.

Sensation can be subtle.

A flutter behind the ribs.

A numbness in the hands.

A shallow breath that tells us, quietly, “I’m bracing.”

We are not trained to listen for these things.

We are trained to override. To analyze. To move on.

But in somatic work, we slow down enough to notice:

• What happens in the body before the emotion?

• What softens when we name what’s true?

• What emerges when sensation is met without fixing?

This is where the wisdom lives.

Learning to Trust the Signals

Often, clients will say: “I don’t feel anything.” Or “I don’t trust what I’m sensing.”

That’s okay. That’s honest.

It takes time to build a relationship with the body—especially if it hasn’t always felt safe to be in one.

We don’t rush that. We begin gently. We notice what can be felt:

• Is there a part of your body that feels neutral?

• Is there a color or texture to what you’re sensing?

• Is there a wordless gesture that wants to happen?

And when something does arise, we don’t analyze—we attend.

That moment of awareness, no matter how small, is a step toward re-inhabiting yourself.

What Your Body Might Be Trying to Tell You

Sometimes the signals are clear:

“This isn’t safe.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“I need to cry.”

But more often, they’re layered.

A lump in the throat might carry grief and gratitude.

Tension in the jaw might protect a boundary that was never allowed.

Butterflies in the belly might be fear—or the signal that something beautiful is on the way.

Your body isn’t binary.

It’s not logical in the way the mind wishes it would be.

But it is true.

An Invitation Back In

If it’s been a while since you felt connected to your body—or if you’ve never been taught how to listen in this way—this is not a deficit. It’s a doorway.

The path is not about decoding every signal.

It’s about learning to stay close to yourself.

To build trust, moment by moment.

To hear the body’s whisper before it has to scream.

This is not a linear path.

But it is a path of coming home.

Your body is not a mystery to be solved. It is a companion you are learning how to befriend.

If you’re ready to begin that relationship—or deepen it—I welcome you.

This work meets you where you are.

It honors your pace.

And it trusts the wisdom that lives beneath your skin.

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Reach out for support with the wisdom of sensation, embodiment, integration, and relational healing—to explore this work together.

The Wisdom of Sensation: What Your Body Has Been Trying to Tell You