On Embodiment and Bearing Witness

We are trained to be disembodied by Western/Global North societies that put mind over matter and treat these components of life as fully separate.  There is not only separation but also domination with this dualism; since Plato, through Descartes and 20th century scientific reductionism, “inferior” matter has been tied not just to bodies, but to the female, to nature, and to any cultures not embracing the same level of disembodiment (the "savage" or "primitive" verses the "civilized" disembodiment). 
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But the “problem” with embodiment, other than how much we are trained to cut it off, is the problem of feeling that comes with it. Because to truly feel our own bodies means we open ourselves to notice our physical and emotional discomfort and pain: current pain and past pain that we haven’t processed or grieved yet. Or traumas that we carry through our bodies and genes from past generations (there has been research done into the physiological imprints of trauma across generations). Or the traumas of societal oppressions constantly choking our thoughts and body tissues and actions.

And beyond whatever layers of our our pain we’ve cut off, to truly feel from within our bodies can be A LOT because it also means we make ourselves open to feeling the suffering of others. Because our bodies, hearts, and nervous systems are built to help us know how others are feeling by giving us some of this feeling ourselves; we are built to feel and celebrate others' joys, and we are built to respond to cries for help, pain, and suffering in ways that support collective safety. Audre Lorde said, "Our feelings are our most genuine path to knowledge."

And right now, there is so much suffering of others to feel. And to feel the suffering of others is to be moved, to want that suffering to stop. As embodied resiliency teacher/ activist Nkem Ndefo says, “There is no such thing as apolitical somatics.”

This is why it is important, if we are re-entering into this relationship with our bodies (and the feelings and layers of information and connection to others and the world that they give us) that we pace ourselves. Or "pendulate", a term from Somatic Experiencing. This means touching in to areas of ourselves that are shut down or intensely-feeling, and then stepping back to pause and make sure our nervous systems aren’t getting overwhelmed by the flood of new (that’s usually actually old, buried) information that we’re letting back into conscious awareness. Then feeling in again when we are regulated and ready. It can be tempting to rush in with a sense of urgency, but precisely because rediscovering these exiled parts of ourselves and our ability to feel is so important, it is necessary to pendulate. 

Because if we get overwhelmed, we’ll go into high stress activation or shut down, neither of which can help us to digest and incorporate the new information, and which can perpetuate habitual trauma responses. This is also a good reason why it’s often helpful to have support, help to hold space and bear witness to the sensations, energy, and emotions that can arise when we’re getting back “in our bodies”. Someone holding a safe space helps us to be able to be with difficult things and relax into them, helps by co-regulating our nervous system, and helps us to be able to pace. And there are many types of supports that can be helpful, whether it’s somatic bodywork, indigenous teachings, guided meditation retreats, support from nature, yoga, working with a spiritual teacher, compassion-based or social-justice oriented therapists, sacred medicine guides, craniosacral therapists, mindful chanting and voice guides, acupuncture, etc... Often multiple approaches can be most helpful.
 
So, with support, we can grow our capacities to bear witness to our own sensations, emotions, discomfort, and pain. Our aliveness. And as we increase our capacity to bear witness to our own feelings while staying grounded, we increase our capacity to bear witness to the feelings and sufferings of others also. To witness and honor their aliveness. Including when that aliveness is in the forms of intense pain or grief. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about the meaning of bearing witness; how, in the same way it doesn’t mean we force ourselves to view all the layers and levels of pain within ourselves at once, my intuition tells me it is not wise to try to bear witness all the time to all the violence and hatred that is happening in the world right now, especially in moments when that would completely overwhelm our nervous systems into shut down or trigger our own (personal or generational) traumas into joining in with the reactivity and violence that we object to. Because we can no longer bear witness (for our internal parts or for the pain of others) if we are shut down, or if we are in extreme sympathetic nervous system activation and our own trauma reactivities are triggered. We can’t bear witness if we can no longer feel from within our own body-hearts in order to feel-with the suffering of others. (We can intellectualize about it, but from my own experience, this is a completely different flavor from bearing witness, and much more prone to joining our own trauma-patterns into the mess, or trying to “help” in ways that reproduce domination patterns, such as "white saviorism"). And to remember that our modern access to so much information from all over the world, including being able to witness so much global suffering, is something our (often) slow-processing nervous systems are not built for. However, trying to keep or return ourselves to regulated states so that we can stay embodied, so that we can keep feeling the world, is not the same thing as choosing to keep blinders on to the world. It is not the same thing as isolating ourselves in a comfort that denies a broader reality. 

So how can we practice a form of wellness and rest and self-care that supports us growing our capacity to bear witness to our inner emotions and to the emotions of others--including grief--rather than a form of "wellness" that is consumeristic and isolating, only about feeling good all the time, which in reality further cuts off our capacities to feel? Can we tend to our needs and regulation, so that we can stay balanced and kind as we moved through the world? So that we can be as open as is possible within our capacities each day, allowing ourselves the rest and support and practices that we need for this?  

My sense is that bearing witness is a call, a request of us to stay human in the face of so much inhumanity, so that other humans can know they matter and are not alone. So that we too can know this through our own embodied aliveness. Part of relearning embodiment is learning this skill of listening to our needs for pacing, for rest, for support, and the feelings of dysregulation and regulation in the body. So that we maintain—and over time expand—our capacity to keep feeling and to keep being moved by the suffering of others.  Which means we allow time for regulating, and for feeling grief and joy and dreams, when there is capacity for feeling them. And it also means acknowledging our own privilege. That it is privilege—and not our inherent specialness or permanent safety—to not be in the same situations of danger, violence, oppression, grief, or pain that we are bearing witness to, even if we also have our own suffering. And when we are bearing witness to immense violence or injustice, this can be terrifying to admit: that with a turn of fate, we too could be suffering in the same ways. Bearing witness means recognizing how fragile our lives also are.

To feel our own body-hearts means we also feel a part of the terror and grief and powerlessness that we bear witness to; the powerlessness to stop hurricanes hitting, floods and wildfires bringing destruction, the loss of towns and lives within hours; the powerlessness to stop the bombs falling on city centers, to stop bombs from targeting children playing football in the street, patients in hospitals, doctors, journalists, aid workers; the powerlessness to stop the famines and diseases taking so many lives secondary to the military violence in Gaza, Sudan, Congo, Tigray, Lebanon… ; the powerlessness in the face of indifference from so called “leaders”, who choose to shrug their shoulders or participate in victim-blaming, even while they also participate actively in the violence, who chose instead racist devaluing of the basic dignity and worth of so many hundreds of thousands of lives. 

To bear witness with our body-hearts means we open to the grief of this immense suffering. Also to feeling how mortal and fragile, and sometimes powerless we are. 

If I bear witness, I let myself feel the pain of others and the pain of the reality that I am not invincible, that whatever violence and injustice continues to be tolerated in the world, I too could experience. That when those lives and dignity are devalued, so is mine.

But we’re so much more fragile when we aren’t able to handle acknowledging or feeling our fears and grief. Because to do that we have to block ourselves from parts of our bodies, block our emotional aliveness, disavow parts of our past, and deny parts of reality. To do this means we keep ourselves disconnected from our wholeness, and don’t let our naturally-human fear and grief metabolize.  It stays stuck in us, hidden, but still motivating us in shadow ways. We keep our own aliveness small, including our capacity for joy, and our capacity for empathy. So we cut ourselves off from parts of ourselves and in doing so disconnect ourselves from others. We become “us”, and those we cannot feel become “them” (which can also of course be the “them” of specific disavowed parts of ourselves, such as the strong correlation between homophobia and repressed sexuality). And when we do this, we’re so, so much more dangerous to others. You can only laugh as children are blown to pieces and entire villages are exploded if you cannot feel the incomprehensible pain that your actions cause. Only if you do not let yourself feel your own body and emotions. Only if you do not recognize your own traumas’ needs to be seen and held and grieved with.

It is so, so important, for ourselves and for others, that we keep ourselves able to feel and digest our pain. To allow for our grief. And to recognize the grief of others. 

So do what you need to do to keep feeling.

Do what you need to keep coming back into your body, to keep yourselves regulated, to ground yourself. And to keep processing the pain of being alive. So you can also keep feeling the joy and beauty of being alive. And so that your shadow-traumas and areas with numbed-empathy do not become part of the violent trauma cycles we are currently witnessing the horror of. 

Bear witness to this aching world as much as you are able in different moments, and also let yourself rest. Get support. Let beauty in. Find ways to resource and stay grounded, so that you can keep feeling yourself, so that you can keep feeling others, so that you can keep alive your capacity to grieve, so that you can keep alive your capacity for joy and love, so that you stay alive in your humanness.  

Our grief is both personal and collective. As is our humanity.

As is our freedom.


With great care for whatever is alive for you these days,
and with openness to support and feel-with your embodiment,
pacing, groundedness, letting go, grieving, and aliveness.
Thank you for all you are doing to stay human.

~Rachel   
​1 November 2024