03/01/2026
Lately I’ve noticed the word somatic everywhere.
On book covers, course titles, social media reels.
And while I’m grateful that the body is finally being invited back into the conversation, I also feel a tenderness, a concern — about how quickly it might turn into trend.
Bodies didn’t suddenly become intelligent when we gave body work a name.
They’ve always spoken — through sensation, posture, symptoms, tension, fatigue, movement or lack thereof...
What’s changed is that many of us forgot how to listen.
In my work, somatic practise isn’t something we "do" to the body.
Through touch, interoception, slowness, and practices like neurogenic tremor, we create conditions where the body doesn’t have to perform, behave, or get anything “right.”
There is no goal to push toward, no expectation to release something, no demand to heal.
Instead, there is an invitation.
An invitation for the body to speak in its own language — rhythm, vibration, stillness, heat, breath, sound, stretch.
Even numbness.
As a somatic practitioner, my hands don’t arrive to fix or correct.
They arrive to meet.
To stay with what they find.
To listen without interpretation, judgement or urgency.
And yes — sometimes we are afraid of what our body might reveal.
Afraid it will be too much, too old, too messy, too unfamiliar.
But what I’ve witnessed, again and again, is this:
When a body is met with patience, curiosity, and respect — it begins to soften on its own.
Rhythm returns.
Flow returns.
Relationship returns.
Healing doesn’t happen because we pushed harder.
It happens because there is reunion — mind, body, spirit — and safety.
Let me know what comes to mind when you hear "somatic". I'd love to hear different perspectives and experiences.
Warmest, Louise
