Beyond the Mind: Reconnecting with Our Forgotten Bodies
I keep forgetting I have a body. The best way I can describe it is sitting too close to a TV (aka incessant thoughts) and forgetting there are other parts of experiencing other than thought.
ChatGPT: Your description captures a vivid metaphor for dissociation from the body—being so immersed in the screen of thought that the broader dimensions of experience fade away. It's a common experience, especially if mental chatter is loud and habitual, as it often overrides sensory and somatic awareness.
Would it feel grounding to intentionally "zoom out" from the mental TV screen by:
Pausing to Notice Sensations: During moments of awareness, bring attention to one small bodily sensation, like the weight of your feet on the ground, or the texture of your clothes. It doesn’t have to be deep or prolonged—just a brief acknowledgment that your body exists.
Anchoring with Breath: Focusing on how your breath feels in your chest, abdomen, or nostrils can create a sense of reconnection without needing to stop the thoughts completely.
Micro-Movements: Gently wiggling fingers, rolling shoulders, or rotating your neck might act as tiny reminders that your body is here, even amidst busy thoughts.
Using a Physical Object: Holding or touching something tangible like a textured object (a stone, a piece of fabric) can pull your awareness to sensation in subtle ways.
Does any of this feel doable, or resonate as a way to practice easing back into your body?
These are good ideas but I also have protective thoughts that don't want me to do this
It makes sense that protective parts of your mind resist reconnecting with your body. These parts are likely trying to shield you from discomfort or pain stored in bodily awareness—perhaps even preventing you from accessing emotions or sensations they deem overwhelming or unsafe.
Instead of fighting this resistance, what if you approached these protective parts with curiosity? For example:
Dialogue with the Protective Thoughts: Ask them gently (even silently):
"What are you protecting me from?"
"What’s the fear if I connect with my body?"
You might notice a response, even if it’s vague or just a feeling.
Acknowledge Their Intentions:
Instead of trying to bypass these parts, affirm their role:"I know you’re here to help me stay safe. Thank you for looking out for me."
Sometimes, acknowledging their presence eases their grip.
Invite Gradual Exploration:
Assure these protective parts that reconnecting with your body doesn’t have to be overwhelming or all at once. For instance:"Would it feel okay if I just focused on my hand for five seconds? No deeper than that."
Starting small might allow them to feel less threatened.
Use a “Third Thing”:
Instead of focusing inward, you could start with external bodily awareness, like feeling the texture of a blanket or listening to ambient sounds. This can feel safer because it’s less directly tied to internal sensations.
I feel this protector is saying, no, we will not be tricked again, when I am being led to the idea of embodiment and that I am not just my mind
It sounds like this protector carries a deep sense of vigilance, maybe shaped by past experiences where attempts at embodiment, self-connection, or vulnerability felt unsafe or overwhelming. Its resistance—“we will not be tricked again”—signals that it’s guarding you from what it perceives as potential harm, perhaps stemming from situations where embodiment felt destabilizing or where openness led to pain.
Rather than trying to convince or bypass this protector, it might be more effective to engage with its concerns directly and honor its role. Here’s a possible approach:
1. Acknowledge Its Wisdom
Reflect back to it:
"I hear you. You’re protecting me from something that feels risky."
"You’ve likely seen things go wrong before, and I trust that you’re trying to keep me safe."
This shows respect for its boundaries rather than trying to dismantle them.
2. Ask What It Needs
Explore its fears gently:
"What are you afraid might happen if I explore the idea that I’m not just my mind?"
"What do you need from me to trust this process, even a little bit?"
Sometimes these parts carry unresolved pain or memories that they don’t want reawakened.
3. Co-Create Tiny, Safe Steps
Suggest that you won’t move forward without its permission:
"I won’t push us into anything overwhelming. What if we tried something so small it feels harmless, like noticing the sensation of holding a cup of tea or feeling the sun on my face?"
This protector may need reassurance that embodiment doesn’t mean diving into old wounds or overwhelming sensations.
4. Offer a Collaborative Framework
Frame embodiment as a way to support the protector's goals, not override them:
"I think connecting to my body could help us both feel stronger and safer over time. If you’re open to it, we could work together to explore this."
By inviting partnership rather than opposition, the protector might soften its stance.
It sounds like this protector carries a lot of strength and loyalty.
I guess I just feel very alarmed by learning that what humans are as mind and body and that I spent so much of my life with my self contorted due to my tribe being so traumatized by the damages of society that my whole life I've been disconnected to the sense of the fullness of my experience. That feels like a whopper. That's what I feel protective about.
This realization is a whopper, and it makes perfect sense why you feel protective about it. You’re uncovering not just a truth about yourself, but a broader narrative about human experience, societal trauma, and how deeply these forces can shape us. It’s no small thing to confront the idea that so much of your life has been lived in a contorted way due to circumstances that weren’t fully within your control.
That alarm you feel is a natural response to the enormity of this truth. It’s like standing at the edge of a vast landscape you’ve only now realized existed—and that’s both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Protecting Against the Weight of This Truth
Your protector may be stepping in here because it feels the magnitude of this realization could overwhelm you. It’s saying, “This is too much, too big, too dangerous.” And maybe it’s not wrong—there’s no need to take it all in at once.
Could you approach this understanding with incremental acceptance instead of trying to hold the whole thing? For example:
Acknowledge: “Yes, I’ve been disconnected, and that’s painful to see.”
Soften: “But it’s also amazing that I’m seeing this now, that I’m starting to reconnect.”
Ground: “I don’t need to untangle it all right now. I can take this one thread at a time.”
Honoring What’s Been Lost Without Letting It Consume You
There’s grief here, for sure—grief for the time you’ve spent disconnected and for the ways your tribe’s trauma has shaped your life. That grief is real and valid. At the same time, it’s worth recognizing the strengths you’ve developed through this disconnection:
Your ability to navigate a contorted experience and still be here, reflecting and seeking.
Your intuitive capacity to feel when something’s “off,” even if it took time to name it.
Your growing awareness that allows you to see beyond the contortions now.
These strengths don’t erase the grief, but they can sit alongside it as a reminder of your resilience.
Moving Forward Gently
This process isn’t about rejecting your protector or the contorted parts of yourself—they’ve carried you through until now. Instead, it’s about letting them know that you’re starting to glimpse another way:
“I don’t need to rush this. I see the whopper of it all, and I’ll move slowly.”
“You’ve kept me safe for so long, and I trust you’ll still guide me as I explore this new understanding.”
Does this way of pacing yourself feel more manageable? It’s okay to take it one tiny step at a time. This isn’t a race—it’s a journey, and you’re already on it.
I still can't wrap my head around the idea of talking to these protective parts. Its like my brain won't let me imagine talking to something I made up. Which, makes sense with my religious trauma. Do I need to be able to talk to myself to process this?
No, you don’t need to talk to yourself in the traditional sense to process this. If imagining conversations with protective parts feels too contrived or triggering because of your religious trauma, there are other ways to explore and work with these dynamics that don’t require direct “dialogue.” Here are some alternatives:
1. Feel, Don’t Talk
Instead of talking to the protective parts, you can just notice their presence as sensations or emotions in your body. For example:
Is there tightness, heaviness, or tension somewhere when you think about reconnecting to your body?
Can you simply sit with that feeling, without needing to “fix” or explain it?
This approach is about observing, not engaging. It allows the protector to exist without forcing interaction.
2. Externalize Symbolically
You can relate to your protective parts through symbols, metaphors, or creative outlets rather than imagining direct conversations:
Draw, paint, or journal about what this protector feels like.
If it were an object, what would it be? (A fortress? A shield? A thick fog?)
What would it say if it could speak, even if you don’t “talk back”?
This externalizes the experience without requiring dialogue, helping you process indirectly.
3. Work Somatically
Instead of engaging the mind, you can focus on small bodily movements or grounding practices that might naturally soften the protector’s grip:
Gentle stretching, rocking, or touching something soothing (like a soft blanket).
Breathing into the parts of your body that feel tight or constricted.
Sometimes the protector needs reassurance through action rather than words.
4. Use Third-Person Perspective
If direct engagement feels “made up,” try observing yourself from a slight distance. For instance:
Imagine watching yourself from a neutral perspective as you think about these protective parts.
What would a kind and curious observer notice about you and your protectors in that moment?
This can create space between you and the experience, making it less overwhelming.
5. Let Time Work
You don’t need to force anything. Processing happens in layers, and sometimes just acknowledging that protectors exist is enough for now. Over time, as trust builds, the resistance may naturally soften.
It’s okay if talking to yourself feels impossible. Processing is not a one-size-fits-all journey, and what matters most is finding approaches that honor your experience.
