We often think of psychotherapy as something that happens through conversation. We talk about our experiences, explore our relationships, make connections between the past and present, and begin to understand the patterns that shape how we move through the world. And these conversations can be profoundly important. Finding language for something we've carried alone, recognizing where a belief came from, or finally feeling understood can create meaningful shifts.
But sometimes, even when we understand something intellectually, we continue to experience it in the same way. We know a situation isn't dangerous, but our chest tightens when we encounter it. We know that another person's disappointment isn't necessarily our responsibility, but our stomach drops when someone seems upset with us. We understand that we are allowed to take up space, but notice ourselves holding our breath, shrinking our posture, or going quiet when it matters most.
This is one reason I believe the body has such an important place in psychotherapy. Our experiences don't happen only in our thoughts or memories. They also shape how we feel physically, how we respond to stress, what we notice in our environment, and what feels possible in our relationships. Sometimes healing involves not only understanding our experiences differently, but also developing a different relationship with what happens inside our bodies.
My understanding of this connection has been shaped not only by my work as a psychotherapist, but also by my training and experience as a certified yoga therapist. Years of studying and teaching yoga therapy have deepened my appreciation for the ways our mental, emotional, physical, and energetic experiences are intertwined. They have also taught me that working with the body isn't simply about relaxing or reducing physical tension. It can be a way of cultivating qualities we want to experience more fully in our lives: steadiness, confidence, compassion, courage, and a greater sense of agency.
What do we mean by somatics?
The word somatic comes from the Greek word soma, meaning body. In psychotherapy, a somatic approach brings attention to the body as part of our emotional and psychological experience. Rather than focusing exclusively on what someone thinks or says, we might also become curious about what they notice physically: a tightness in the throat, pressure in the chest, a fluttering sensation in the stomach, an urge to pull away, or a feeling of heaviness or stillness.
These sensations aren't simply distractions from the deeper psychological work. They can offer information about how we're experiencing a moment, what feels threatening or supportive, and how we've learned to respond to our surroundings.
This doesn't mean that every physical sensation has a hidden psychological meaning, or that we can interpret the body as though it were speaking in a code we need to decipher. A tight chest might be connected to anxiety, but it could also have a physical cause. The point is not to assign meaning too quickly, but to become curious about our experience and allow the body to be part of the conversation.
Somatic awareness can include noticing our breath, posture, muscle tension, temperature, movement, impulses, and the ways our bodies respond in relationship with other people. It can also involve recognizing when we feel more grounded, spacious, energized, connected, or at ease.
The mind and body are not separate
One of the things I appreciate about yoga therapy is that it offers a framework for understanding our experience as deeply interconnected. We sometimes talk about the mind and body as though they are separate entities: the mind thinks and feels, while the body carries out instructions. But our experience is much more reciprocal than that. Our thoughts influence our physical state, and our physical state can influence our thoughts, emotions, and sense of possibility. I like to think of the body as the embodied mind, full of wisdom, intuitive awareness, and insight.
Consider how different you might feel walking into a difficult conversation when your shoulders are rounded, your breath is shallow, and your body feels contracted, compared with approaching that same conversation with your feet grounded, your spine comfortably upright, and a sense of space through your chest. The external circumstances haven't changed, and simply adjusting your posture won't resolve a complicated relationship. But the way we inhabit our bodies can influence how we experience ourselves in a moment.
This is part of what I mean by the embodied mind: our thinking, feeling, perceiving, and responding are shaped by our whole lived experience, including the body. We don't simply have thoughts about confidence, safety, or belonging. We also experience these qualities—or their absence—through how we breathe, move, hold ourselves, and engage with the world.
Working with the energy of confidence: Manipura chakra
An example I find particularly interesting comes from the yogic understanding of the chakra system. Manipura, often associated with the solar plexus or navel center, is traditionally connected with inner fire, transformation, will, personal power, and the capacity to act. It’s sometimes described as a center of confidence and agency: our ability to recognize our own strength, make choices, and move toward what matters to us.
I find this framework useful when thinking about the relationship between anger and self-confidence. Many people who struggle to trust themselves or assert their needs have also learned to distrust their anger. Perhaps they grew up in an environment where expressing frustration led to conflict, punishment, or withdrawal of affection—or they learned that being agreeable was the safest way to maintain connection. Over time, they may have become disconnected from the signals that tell them when something isn't okay, when a boundary has been crossed, or when they need to advocate for themselves.
Anger itself isn't inherently harmful. Like other emotions, it can carry information. It may signal that something important has been violated, that we need protection, or that a situation requires our attention. The question is not how to eliminate anger, but how to process anger that’s been stuck and develop a relationship with it that allows us to understand what it is communicating and choose how to respond.
In a yoga therapy context, practices that bring attention to the navel and core region can provide an embodied way to explore these qualities. Depending on the person and the tradition, this might include intentional movement, postures that engage the core, breath practices, visualization, or meditation focused on the qualities associated with manipura. The practice isn't simply about strengthening abdominal muscles. It can become an exploration of what it feels like to inhabit our own center: to experience strength without rigidity, confidence without aggression, and the ability to act without needing to dominate or diminish anyone else.
For someone who has learned to suppress their needs, this kind of practice might offer an opportunity to explore what healthy assertiveness feels like. What happens when I allow myself to feel my own strength? Can I recognize anger without being overwhelmed by it or turning it against myself? What would it mean to let that energy support a clear boundary rather than an automatic reaction?
I don't think of this as a shortcut to confidence or a way to resolve trauma through chakra work alone; holistic trauma therapy is a better fit for that. But it is one example of how embodied and contemplative practices can help us explore qualities that may be difficult to access through thinking alone. The practice gives us an opportunity to experience and rehearse a different relationship with ourselves, and can be incorporated into psychotherapy when appropriate.
How our experiences shape the way we inhabit our bodies
Our nervous systems are continually responding to our environments. We orient toward what feels safe, prepare for what might be threatening, and adjust our behavior in response to the people around us. These responses are part of being human. They help us navigate the world.
When we've experienced chronic stress, relational instability, or trauma, however, some of these protective responses can become familiar patterns that continue long after the original circumstances have changed.
For example, someone who learned early in life that expressing disagreement could lead to criticism or withdrawal might notice their body preparing to appease another person before they've consciously decided what they want to say. Someone who experienced unpredictable anger in their home might become highly attuned to subtle changes in another person's tone or facial expression. Someone who learned that their needs were inconvenient might unconsciously minimize their presence, even in relationships where their needs are welcome.
These responses often developed for understandable reasons. They may have helped us maintain connection, reduce conflict, or navigate situations in which we had limited control. But patterns that once served a protective purpose can become limiting when they continue to shape our choices in the present.
This is where somatic awareness can become useful. We can begin to notice what happens in our bodies when we feel criticized, overwhelmed, uncertain, or disconnected. We might recognize the moment our shoulders rise, our breath becomes shallow, or we feel an impulse to explain ourselves, withdraw, or make everything okay for someone else.
With practice, we can create a little more space between the sensation and the response. Instead of automatically following a familiar pattern, we can become curious about what is happening and what we might need.
Moving from reaction toward response
One of the most meaningful possibilities in somatic psychotherapy is developing a greater sense of choice in moments when we might otherwise react automatically.
Imagine that someone sends you a message that feels critical. Before you've had time to consider what they actually meant, you notice your stomach tightening and your thoughts racing. You feel an immediate urge to defend yourself, apologize, or send a long explanation.
A cognitive approach might invite you to examine the thoughts that arise: What am I assuming? Is there another interpretation? What evidence do I have?
Those questions can be helpful. A somatic approach might also invite you to pause and notice without harsh judgment what is happening physically. Where do you feel the reaction? What is your body preparing you to do? Can you feel your feet on the floor? Would it help to look around the room, take a moment, or allow your breath to settle without forcing it?
The goal isn't to eliminate the reaction or make yourself calm. It is to recognize that something is happening and give yourself an opportunity to respond with more awareness.
Sometimes the response might still be to set a firm boundary. Sometimes it might be to ask for clarification, take space, or express hurt. The important difference is that we're becoming less governed by an automatic pattern and more able to choose how we want to meet the situation.
Why talking about our experiences isn't always enough
Understanding the origins of a pattern can be an important part of healing, but insight doesn't always change the way a pattern feels. We might know that we are no longer a child who needs to anticipate a parent's mood, yet still feel anxious when someone seems disappointed. We might understand that we deserve healthy relationships, yet find ourselves drawn into familiar dynamics.
This doesn't mean therapy isn't working or that we're failing to apply what we've learned. It may mean that the experience needs to be approached through more than one channel.
Psychotherapy can make room for thoughts, emotions, memories, sensations, and relational experiences. In trauma therapy, this can be particularly important because distress may involve reactions that happen quickly, before we've had time to put words to what we're experiencing.
In EMDR, for example, attention is given not only to memories and beliefs, but also to the emotions and physical sensations associated with a target memory. As the memory is processed, a person may notice changes in the way it feels, including shifts in emotional intensity and bodily experience. The aim is not to force a particular physical response, but to support the processing of experiences that continue to feel distressing or unresolved.
Other therapeutic approaches may incorporate grounding, movement, breath awareness, mindfulness, or gentle attention to physical sensations. These practices can help someone become more familiar with their internal experience and develop ways of meeting it with greater choice.
Research on body-oriented approaches to trauma is growing. A 2023 systematic review and meta-analysis of body- and movement-oriented interventions for PTSD included 29 studies and found an overall reduction in PTSD symptoms. The authors also noted substantial variation across studies and limitations in the quality of the evidence, so these findings are encouraging without establishing that every body-based approach works equally well for everyone. (You can read the study here.)
Learning to feel at home in your body
For some people, turning attention toward the body feels comforting or grounding. For others, it can feel unfamiliar, overwhelming, or even frightening. This is especially true for people whose bodies have been associated with pain, vulnerability, shame, or traumatic experiences.
A trauma-informed somatic approach needs to respect this. We don't have to close our eyes, focus intensely on internal sensations, or sit still and breathe deeply to engage in body awareness. Sometimes beginning with the external environment is more supportive: noticing the light in the room, feeling the chair beneath us, looking around and identifying objects, or sensing the ground under our feet.
We can also explore movement, posture, or other ways of connecting with the body that feel accessible. For one person, that might mean noticing the sensation of their hands resting in their lap. For another, it might mean standing up, stretching, walking, or shifting position. There is no single correct way to experience the body.
Over time, the practice can become less about monitoring ourselves and more about developing a relationship with our physical experience that includes curiosity, respect, and compassion. We can begin to recognize what helps us feel more present, what signals that we need a pause, and what our bodies might be asking us to pay attention to.
And perhaps most importantly, we can begin to experience our bodies as something other than a source of symptoms to manage or a place where difficult memories live. Our bodies are also where we experience pleasure, connection, creativity, vitality, and the ordinary moments of being alive.
An integrated approach to healing
I think about psychotherapy as an opportunity to work with the whole of our experience. Our thoughts and beliefs matter. So do our emotions, memories, physical sensations, relationships, and the ways we have learned to protect ourselves.
My own approach to therapy is informed by trauma-focused psychotherapy, EMDR, contemplative practice, and my background as a yoga therapist. I value the opportunity to explore what is happening beneath the surface of a familiar reaction while also paying attention to what is happening in the present moment. Sometimes that means making sense of an old belief. Sometimes it means noticing a physical response that has gone largely unrecognized. Sometimes it means slowing down enough to discover that we have more choices than we realized.
Somatic awareness isn't about becoming perfectly regulated, feeling peaceful all the time, or learning to control every physical response. It is about becoming more connected to ourselves and more able to meet our experiences with flexibility and care.
We don't have to choose between understanding our stories and listening to our bodies. Both can be part of healing. And as we develop a more compassionate relationship with our physical experience, we may begin to discover that feeling at home in ourselves is not simply something we think our way into. It is something we can gradually learn to experience.
If you're looking for trauma therapy or EMDR in Colorado, I offer individual therapy for adults in Boulder and throughout Colorado via telehealth. You can learn more about my approach to trauma therapy and EMDR therapy.
Sources & Further Reading
van de Kamp, M. M., et al. (2023). Body- and movement-oriented interventions for posttraumatic stress disorder: An updated systematic review and meta-analysis. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 36(5), 835–848.