Embodiment is Reclamation: Coming Home to Your Body
For a long time, I lived almost entirely in my head.
I could analyze theology with the best of them and talk circles around what I felt—but I couldn’t actually feel it. My body was something to manage, silence, or spiritualize. I was taught it was untrustworthy, even dangerous.
Maybe you know that kind of living too—being told to suppress your instincts, to disconnect from your senses, to override your inner knowing for the sake of belief or belonging.
So when I talk about embodiment, I don’t mean something trendy.
I mean something radical.
Especially for those of us raised in high-control or fundamentalist spaces, learning to live in our bodies again is nothing short of rebellion.
It’s a homecoming.
A reclamation.
Why Embodiment Matters
Our bodies remember what our minds try to forget.
They hold the tremor of unspoken grief, the tightness of old fear, the warmth of joy we were told to tone down. They are archives of everything we’ve survived.
When we begin to inhabit our bodies again, we start to listen differently. We notice when our chest tightens at a “yes” we didn’t mean to give, or how our breath deepens when we’re finally aligned with truth.
This is where trust begins—not in ideas or doctrines, but in sensation. The body teaches us that we already carry wisdom within us. It’s been there all along, waiting for our attention.
The Role of Spiritual Bypassing
One of the ways many of us learned to avoid our bodies and emotions was through something psychologist Hillary McBride calls spiritual bypassing.
It’s the process of using spirituality as a defense—sidestepping, skirting around, or avoiding the deeper emotional issues or systemic problems in our lives by wrapping them in spiritual language.
We give pain a “spiritual meaning,” often with beautiful words and moral weight, which makes the avoidance harder to see—and even easier to celebrate. In many faith spaces, this kind of bypassing is considered the highest ideal of faithfulness, a mark of maturity.
Inside Christian contexts, it can look like trying to cover up our pain with prayers, positivity, or promises that everything will work together for good. We use faith statements to keep ourselves from feeling the anxiety or fear that was rising only moments before.
We may even start to believe we’re spiritually superior for not feeling—or for “staying strong” instead of allowing ourselves to break open.
It also shows up in how we respond to others: minimizing their pain, celebrating their suffering as part of “God’s plan,” or offering platitudes when what’s really needed is presence.
And this isn’t just a Christian problem. In many spiritual circles, non-attachment, self-denial, or “positivity only” teachings are held up as signs of enlightenment. But in truth, these can all serve the same purpose—keeping us from touching pain, whether our own or someone else’s.
Embodiment becomes the key.
It invites us to stop bypassing—to meet our bodies where they are, to let sensation move through rather than around us, to let truth be felt instead of explained away.
A Personal Note
Over the past year, I’ve felt my own work shift toward somatics in a very intentional way. I realized that for many of us, this is the missing piece after deconstruction. We’ve spent so long unlearning belief systems that we forget to re-inhabit the body that carried us through them.
Movement, breath, and sensation became my doorway back to myself—to the voice I’d silenced in order to be accepted.
In winter 2025, I took an embodiment course with Hillary McBride, and it cracked something open. I began to understand what it means to stay with our emotions rather than talk around them—to remain grounded in the body even when what we feel is uncomfortable. I gained new skills for helping others do the same: to come into presence, to stay with what arises, and to let the body become a safe place again.
In spring 2025, I began my BodyTalk training, a practice that deepens that listening even further. In BodyTalk, the body actually leads the way—very little needs to be said. We let the body guide what’s ready to be seen or released, trusting that it knows the priority for healing. This approach has reshaped everything for me: how I listen, how I support others, and how I understand what it means to trust the wisdom that lives within us.
What Embodiment Looks Like
Embodiment doesn’t have to be elaborate. It happens in small, ordinary moments. At its heart, it’s about being with what arises—allowing yourself to feel the sensations and emotions present in your body, without needing to fix, explain, or judge them.
Breath Awareness: Feeling the rise and fall of your chest, noticing where your breath catches, and allowing whatever comes up—restlessness, tension, or calm—to be there.
Grounding: Pressing your feet into the earth, imagining roots extending downward, and letting yourself feel supported even if your mind is racing.
Body Scans: Slowly checking in with each area of your body, noticing tension, warmth, heaviness, or lightness, and welcoming those sensations as information rather than obstacles.
Movement: Stretching, shaking, swaying, or free dancing—letting the body express what words cannot, and allowing any sensations or emotions that arise to move with it.
Embodiment is not about “doing it right” or chasing a particular feeling. It’s about showing up for yourself, leaning into whatever is present, and trusting that the body knows what it needs. Every sensation and every tremor of emotion is a guide toward deeper presence and self-understanding.
A Mini Somatic Practice
If you’re able, try this now. The goal isn’t to “do it right”—it’s to be present with whatever comes up. Let your body lead the way.
Sit or stand comfortably.
Place one hand on your chest and the other on your belly if that feels supportive
Inhale slowly for four counts, noticing the rise of your chest and belly.
Exhale for six counts, letting your body soften wherever it can.
Bring gentle awareness to any sensations—tightness, heat, tingling, heaviness, restlessness, or calm—and simply allow them to be there. No need to fix or analyze.
Whisper quietly to yourself:
“I am here. I am allowed to feel whatever is present.”Begin to ask yourself: What might this sensation be saying? What is the emotion here? Let your body guide your understanding.
Pause for a few breaths. Notice what shifts, what stays, and how your body responds. Even a minute of this practice can help you reconnect with yourself, honor your feelings, and remember that all sensations and emotions are valid guides.
Reflection Prompts
Where in your body do you feel most alive right now?
Where do you notice holding tension or a darker more difficult emotion?
What sensations have you ignored, and what would it mean to listen to them again?
How might spiritual bypassing still show up for you—in the language you use with yourself or others?
Embodiment as Reclamation
To inhabit your body is to reclaim your autonomy, your voice, and your inner knowing.
It’s choosing presence over avoidance, truth over comfort, and healing over performance.
Every breath, every sensation, every tremor of emotion is evidence that you are alive and whole—and that you don’t have to bypass your humanity to be spiritual.
If this speaks to something stirring in you, you’re invited to join Rebuild & Reclaim, beginning October 22.
It’s a space to practice this kind of returning together—to listen to our bodies, rebuild trust, and reclaim what was always ours.
