Do you ever feel disconnected from your body? In an era where our attention is frequently occupied by screens, many people complain about feeling numb and unable to truly experience and participate fully in life. There might be a sense of robotically moving through daily activities: exercising mindlessly, completing chores and tasks and going through the motions without truly being present.
This sense of disembodiment is becoming a common affliction. Perhaps as a reaction to it, the concept of embodiment is rising to the forefront of awareness, particularly in the realms of movement, spirituality and psychology.
Dictionaries don’t seem to list this current definition of embodiment, so I will attempt to define it myself. To me, embodiment is feeling that I fully inhabit my physical form, am in tune with my senses and able to engage and interact with the world and with others through my body in this present moment. There is a temporal element to it because being truly embodied results in living in the present rather than being caught up in the past or the future.
Think of a cat for example. We cannot deny that a feline exemplifies embodiment in its ability to move, respond and react with instant reflexive physical action as it hunts or plays. There is no disconnection or delay. The cat’s senses are attuned to tracking its prey, its mind utterly absorbed and its pounce sparked by a perfect synchrony of firing neurons and muscle contraction.
Historically, our bodies and minds were deemed completely separate by dualistic thinkers like Descartes in the 17th century— a belief that endured for centuries. Much later, in 1962, a different view was proposed by philosopher Merleau-Ponty, who suggested that the body and mind were ‘equivalent, intertwined and inseparable.’ In modern times, the science of embodied cognition (described beautifully by Sian Beilock in her book, How the Body Knows its Mind) has demonstrated this entanglement of our minds and our physical sensations through research. It has shown how our movements can influence our decisions and that our mind arises as a result of interactions between our brain, body and experiences.
If movement can influence our minds, then it can also become a helpful tool for embodied living. However, moving in a mechanical, militaristic or forceful manner can aggravate feelings of disembodiment. Instead, engaging with our bodies in a nurturing, gentle and respectful way that includes observing our own thoughts and feelings—described as intentional movement— enhances our sense of embodiment. Yoga, Qi-Kung, the Feldenkrais Method, Somatics and some forms of dance, like Movement Medicine or NIA would fall into this category.
Intentional movement guides practitioners to attune our senses, direct our attention within and to treat our bodies with kindness. One of the reasons I was first drawn to yoga as a young person was that it allowed me to relate to my body in a far more positive way compared to other forms of exercise available at the time.
The many reasons that yoga can promote inhabiting our bodies positively have been described in an excellent recent scientific paper by Piran and Neumark-Sztainer. Some of these were: improving body awareness, gratitude for the body, stimulating a sense of accomplishment and boosting self- confidence.
Recently I have witnessed some students coming to my yoga classes seeming disconnected from their bodies. They have vacant expressions on their faces and move from pose to pose almost robotically. When encouraged to explore or play, these students freeze, unsure how to proceed. They have come to class wanting to switch off and be led through a mindless flow.
This might be contentious, but to me that is disembodied yoga. When I teach I want to awaken my students – to stimulate them to feel and sense their bodies from the inside. To discover: ‘what is it like to inhabit this form?’ or ‘what is it like to experience yoga from inside this skin and behind these eyes?’
For this reason, we may spend a while standing in Tadasana (mountain pose), sensing the weight of our fingers at the ends of our hands or the texture of the mat under the soles of our feet. It is also why I speak so much about the breath. Breathing is the most accessible and simple method of becoming more embodied. Just asking ourselves at the start of class, ‘how does my breath feel today? Is it rough or smooth, deep or shallow?’ weaves a delicate web between body and mind.
‘Attuned self-care’ is an important concept found in intentional movement practices like yoga. It involves students being given permission to take care of their own bodies by choosing to rest when they are tired, drink when they are thirsty or to modify a pose to suit their needs. This approach is often absent in goal-driven or competitive arenas of movement.
It is inevitable that in these frenetic, achievement-orientated times, many students will come to class feeling lost and longing to reconnect with their bodies. I am aware that being asked to move or explore freely might spark terror because so many people are restricted by self-consciousness, mental chatter and overthinking. This has imprisoned their spontaneity and creativity in a cage. It is my goal as a teacher to gently lead my students, firstly to see the cage, and then, gradually, to understand that they have a key to open it...and to step out into a more embodied life.
Here is a Zen-inspired daily practice.
Take an Embodied Pause
When you feel overwhelmed or caught up in your thoughts, pause. -Begin to tune into and sense your breath.
-Make small movements, such as gently opening and closing your fingers or moving your head from side to side.
-Feel the ground underneath you.
-Open your eyes and gently gaze at your surroundings.
- Notice how you are feeling in this moment. And where do you feel that emotion in your body?