Idioms about the importance of being congruent in both speech and behavior abound.
Our spoken words, no matter how sincerely we mean them, become untrustworthy when they are not supported by our actions.
Similarly, our actions feel incongruent and insincere when they are not consistent with our intention and motives.We have all been on the receiving end of an interaction that appeared or seemed intended to be helpful or friendly, but instead felt empty at best and manipulative or exploitative at worst.Both our actions and our words, no matter how well intentioned, can leave us feeling confused and disconnected from each other if they are not congruent with our internal state of being, and can result in relational rupture.
Embodiment Defined
Webster’s Dictionary defines the word “embody” in this way: to be an expression of or give atangible or visible form to (an idea, quality, or feeling).
Embodiment entails a sense of internalizing and integrating a way of being in the world that moves beyond our way of doing or behaving.Beyond acting as guidelines for behavior, embodied principles and beliefs become woven into the fabric of our identity and sense of self, and flow naturally into the ways in which we connect with self and others, both human and animal, and the larger world, including nature and our conceptualization of the divine.
We can sense the difference when someone is “acting kind” as opposed to “being kind.”Kind acts can be done for a variety of both honorable or self-serving motives. However, experiencing true kindness from someone who embodies the truth of their character in serving and caring for others because this is who they are engages our limbic system in an entirely different way and offers a rich relational opportunity for connection on a level so deep and healing that it is felt at a cellular level.
This kind of connection requires genuine presence, being in this moment and being with yourself and the one who is in front of you. We try in various ways to derive “being” from “doing,” but “doing” actually flows from our “being.”
WHO we are shows up in WHAT we do and HOW we do it.
A society of task managers
In our task-focused, accomplishment-driven society, our obsession with productivity and output leaves little room for the rich, satisfying, deeply healing experiences of connection that are only possible when we slow down and focus our complete attention on this interaction at this moment with this being, whether horse or human.
When I work with a client in the round pen who is asking for their horse’s attention while preoccupied with the outcome, so focused on the task of getting the horse to look at them, or turn and walk to them that they have reduced the interaction to a project whose success is measured by achieving a certain behavior, the principle of embodied connection is completely lost in the transactional nature of this exchange.
When the client shifts to a more genuine, present state, connecting with their deep longing to be seen and felt and valued, and sees and feels and values their horse as well, the change in energy is palpable.The quality and depth of the connection available in this type of relational exchange defies language, as it is felt on a somatic level between the two as an energetic exchange.
Embodiment requires breathing and processing space. . .
As a trauma survivor, I learned to “behave” appropriately in relational interactions by accurately assessing expectations and how to meet them in order to avoid rejection and abandonment.When I was first introduced to the Natural Lifemanship model of Trauma Focused Equine Assisted Psychotherapy, I approached it the way I did everything I wanted to learn about: in a cognitive manner.I studied the model, memorized the principles and then practiced applying them in the round pen with horses in a task-focused, outcome driven way.
It soon became clear to me that I could ask a horse to attach and detach from me without any true connection whatsoever.I did not feel the warmth in my chest, or energetic exchange between myself and my horse that other people described when their horse connected with them.I spent hours in the round pen practicing making requests for interaction and felt despair about ever moving beyond the behavioral stage of it “looking right” without it ever “feeling right.”
Then I took the Natural Lifemanship Intensive Training, which focuses even more on embodying the relational principles of this model.I learned that the healing work we do with humans and horses is a way of “being” in the world, not only a way of“doing.”Embodiment requires breathing and processing space, which is why Natural Lifemanship trainings are designed in a combined video and live learning format that offers not only plenty of time to learn and master essential principles but also skilled and knowledgeable instructors to guide your learning by giving personalized feedback on the specific ways to practice these principles.
To read more about my experiences early on with Natural Lifemanship read here.
The secret to success
Malcolm Gladwell popularized the “10,000 hour rule” in his book, Outliers, based on a research study that found it takes about 10,000 hours of intensive practice to achieve mastery of complex skills and materials like playing the violin or learning computer programming.A surprising nuance in this discovery revealed that it is not simply the amount of hours spent practicing but how you practice and who guides you in deciding what to focus on during that practice time that determines the level of success achieved.This idea of “deliberate practice” under the guidance of a skilled teacher who is able to assess each student individually and outline specific steps to help them improve then tailors the time spent to focus on what would be most helpful for that student’s growth and development.
How you use your practice time and who guides you is what matters most.
I spent hours in the round pen doing the same thing over and over, getting the same results, until I received the personalized attention and guidance I specifically needed to let go of my task driven focus and learned to embrace and embody the principles and nuances of true, heart-felt connection.I discovered the power of presence from trainers who embodied this with and for me so I could hone in on what was missing in my learning and start practicing in a way that actually led to transformational change.
How the NL Intensive training can help you embody connection
The Intensive Training is set up to enhance your learning with guidance and support specifically tailored to the areas you want and need to grow.It helped me refine my understanding of connection in relationship and led to powerful shifts in my perspective on my relationship with self and others, both horse and human.
This is a powerful opportunity to take the next step in your journey of personal and professional growth!
Practice Embodied Connection at Home
To practice feeling a sense of embodiment through connection, try taking a walk with a trusted person.Orient to your environment and do some mindfulness and grounding to become fully present in your body as you walk beside each other.Then start to notice if you can fall “in sync” with your partner, matching their stride by sensing their movement without looking at them.
Take turns lengthening your stride, speeding up and slowing down, and changing direction.Can you feel these shifts without looking at your partner’s legs or body with your eyes?Can you sense the energetic exchange between the two of you as you become entrained in your motion and your connection deepens through this rhythmic shared movement?Be playful with it!You can also try this with your horse or dog.
Outside my window, I hear Abilene take three deep horse breaths. She is sunning her mud-caked body at the very spot where Annie stood 48 hours ago experiencing the discomfort of the unknown ailment to which she succumbed hours later. The story of that day replays vividly in my mind, although that is not the story I wish to tell right now. She died in the trailer on the way to the vet, and this story begins once Tim and I brought her body back to my place to rest in the trailer overnight so that Abilene could say her goodbyes.
The night Annie passed we got a good amount of rain. Abilene stayed with Annie’s body at the trailer for much of the night it seems. My housemate and I went out several times to check on her throughout the night, and she was always by the trailer. Sometimes poking her nose in and sniffing Annie, sometimes standing a few feet away attentively looking at her still body. Sometimes when we would walk up in the pitch black night, she would quickly come up to us only to turn away and return to the trailer once recognizing that we were not Annie.
That night the pain and shock of Annie’s passing was all consuming. It surrounded me even as it swallowed me from within. It poured forth from my body as though the very ground of being opened up beneath me and gravity took care of the rest. I now rest on a subterranean ledge quite a bit further down, getting my bearings. I’m so thankful for Abilene – for her presence in this space we share.
Grief, I’m noticing, has different textures. There is the resounding, thunderous experience of loss – immediate, vibratory – much like being suspended in the hollow of a drum as it’s forcefully struck. All that exists is the vibration, and it plays you through and through. In this texture of grief my body experiences only the loss – the pain of separation – the awareness of absence. Nothing else exists. This was my immediate experience. There was no way to talk or even think in the clamor. There were some escape hatches I could see in the haze of the moment – the illusory promise of distractions of various sorts – but I fell for none of them. Didn’t want to be distracted because this now is my experience of Annie. Even an experience of her acute and sudden absence, painful and overwhelming as it is, is better than no experience. This is grief number one. Raw, immediate, kinetic.
And then there is the pain of memory. It has a different quality and it lives in a different place. It’s less like a sound and vibration, and more like a storyboard. It is a string of images – snapshots tied to my heart, which tugs them like kites as it softens and constricts, softens and constricts. Images of Annie and the memory of her warm, sweet breath, her head on my shoulder, her neck stretching up so that I could scratch under her chin, her asking for butt rubs, her curiosity and gentleness and sometimes impatience, especially at mealtime. These images swell up in waves of moans and tears – stuck in the throat and then bubbling out of the silence. This is the pain of the past. The pain of remembering. The pain of the stories we compose and relive, again and again. I am deeply thankful that Abilene, at least I assume, does not have to experience this kind of grief. I’m pretty sure it’s mostly the first kind she experiences, but I guess I don’t really know.
Finally, there’s a third kind – closely related to the second. It’s future grief. Future grief is like past grief but instead of being triggered by memories or images of what was, it is prompted by the discovery and the rediscovery of what-will-no-longer-be, or variably, of what-could-have-been had past events unfolded differently. Expectations and hopes do not come with expiration dates. And yet, they expire. Just like that. Hope has an open quality and when it expires due to loss, it produces a grief for the un-lived future. This is experienced in the eyes and the face, wrinkling with tension as though straining toward a distant horizon in which one finds no trace or shadow of the departed.
I guess future grief is the most lonely kind of grief. Past grief isn’t lonely because I will always have the memories of the time and space and connection Annie and I actually, physically shared. There is a fullness there. Present grief is more fluid. The vibration of loss is not always present. It gives way to other connections in the here and now. The thunderous, wordless kind of loss – the grief of the present – overtakes you but flows right on past so long as you don’t resist it or avoid it. Thankfully, the present is the present.
One must make a conscious choice to stay with the grief of the present and to honor the grief of the past – the grief of the “what is” transfiguring into the “what was”. It is worthy of enshrining. Annie lives in a golden place within my heart. This is that enduring sense of connection with detachment. She is not physically here but she lives very much alive within me. I will treasure this. Visit this place daily. Allow the waves of this type of grief to swell and crash in my heart without resistance. I think the best offering we can place on this altar is gratitude.
Gratitude is protective against the rages of the one kind of grief we must choose to let go – and that is the grief of the future. This kind of grief can keep us stuck. We cannot fully live without hope. Nor can we live fully if we dwell in a world of what-ifs. Hopelessness is a kind of suicide. Of course, we experience it at times but we mustn’t enshrine it, or revisit it too often, I think. It’s like a riptide or quicksand. If we find ourselves in it, we’ve gotta get out. Friends, present connections, mindfulness of the present, and meaningful, intentional gratitude – these keep us from drowning and perishing in the grief of the un-lived future.
I’m thankful for my wonderful, supportive friends, both two-legged and four-legged. I’m thankful for the Christmas break and the time to digest and metabolize this trauma. I’m thankful for dear, sweet, resilient Abilene, who is already teaching me so much about what it means to “surthrive”. And I’m so, so very thankful for Annie, who blessed me in countless ways with her beautiful presence in my life for over a year, over two actually. I am where I am because of her.
The Three Kinds of Grief Video
I’ve been spending a lot of time with Abilene the past couple days. This evening just before sunset I found her in the front standing on the exact spot where the trailer had been parked. She saw me coming and walked toward me. I sat with her under the cedar tree where she and Annie liked to sleep. We silently stayed there, gazing out toward that spot and taking in all that remains. I wonder if Abilene sensed Annie’s presence as I did, ever so lightly.
Thank you sweet girl. I miss you so much. My heart is yours. May you run free in the green pasture of my heart, always.
Interested in learning more from Laura?
Laura shared this blog at the start of our 2021 conference in a workshop called The Somatic Experience of Grief and Love. Check out the conference replays here.
The conference replays act as a stepping stone into ongoing workshops and powerful conversations centered around life, love, loss, and death. They will equip you with the tools for finding light in the darkest of times.
Join us as we journey through conversations centered around love and loss (of all kinds), and participate in “Grief, Love, and Life”, a series of experiential workshops that will take place throughout the rest of the year.
Each workshop is designed to build upon your foundational experience from the recorded conversations. Learn more here!We look forward to walking this path with you!
“Love, where it ever existed before, doesn’t cease to exist. To speak of love in the past tense is not to know love at all. Love goes on, being always a continuation and an extension of love. Your grief is but the continuation of the love you once experienced, and will always experience. Grief is another name for Love.”(Jennifer Williamson)
Western culture has always had a very uneasy relationship with grief. Where other cultures and ethnic groups have integrated the inevitability of loss into the fabric of their society, providing structure and support for a grieving process, in the West we are given but weeks to attend to the emotions and details of the loss, such as planning and attending the funeral if a death was involved, and then encouraged to “move on,” whatever that entails, depending on what it is that you have actually lost (a relationship, home, job, person, or pet, for example).When losing a loved one, this may look like planning and attending a funeral with the minimal bereavement time allotted by your employer. When losing a home or job, this may look like encouraging words from well meaning family and friends that typically end with, “it’s time to move on.”
The COVID 19 pandemic afforded us many opportunities to experience grief. These included routines and activities we were accustomed to, like our gym workout, dining out, popcorn and a good laugh or cry at the movie theater, hugging friends and family, and attending live events like church, school, work, concerts and other outings that we used to take for granted.Amidst toilet paper, mask and laundry soap shortages, other things were also in short supply: concise, trustworthy information and reliable leadership.We became fearful of the future, and even each other.Breathing the air and touching each other became potentially dangerous. Many of us lost loved ones.Some of us lost livelihoods, a sustainable income, our health or our home. We all lost a sense of safety and security.
We are now emerging from a time of uncertainty and upheaval in different ways depending upon our particular experience of the pandemic, and need to develop fresh pathways to engage in the necessary grief process of adjusting to “a new normal.”
According to Stephen Jenkinson, Creator and Principle Instructor of the Orphan Wisdom School, (and keynote speaker at our conference this year!!)grief is “a way of loving that which has slipped from view, and love is a way of grieving that which has not yet done so.” He believes that grief is not a feeling, but a state of being that holds true throughout our lifetime, and that we must become “practitioners of grief” in order to truly participate in the experience of deeply loving another.
Grief acknowledges the impermanence of love, a recognition of its temporariness:the baby we are rocking and holding today becomes the adolescent who rebuffs a hug, a beloved canine companion on our daily walks becomes crippled with arthritis and lies on his bed watching us lace up our shoes to go without him, a long awaited trip ends in a series of photographs that barely do it justice, a loved one’s spirit nestles in our heart rather than on the couch as a physical body next to us at the end of the day.
Grief does not necessarily need to be a traumatic experience, but becomes so when experienced in isolation, without understanding and support in the context of connected relationships.
Grief becomes embodied as trauma when we walk its path alone.
Jenkins asserts that if your love includes another being, grief is part of love.They are twins that reveal each other, two sides of the same precious coin. One does not and cannot exist without the other.Just as we need other beings to experience love, we also need other beings to help us navigate grief.He concludes:“You don’t get invited to many parties if you become a practitioner of grief, but your understanding of love is renovated for all time.”
In the upcoming virtual Natural Lifemanship Conference,A Natural Life:Love and Grief are Connected, a community of helpers and healers from all over the world will provide us with many rich opportunities to become better practitioners of the inevitable intertwined experiences of love and grief that accompany us on our life’s journey.
Those who participate in this conference will embark on ajourney that we have carefully and artfully designed.Each presentation will prepare you for the next as the conference culminates in a very special community Rite of Passage to honor change with ceremonialist Katie Asmus.It is our intention to create a sacred space for you to navigate the challenging road of grief while experiencing the vast love that is, indeed, grief’s twin.
Our upcoming conference was purposefully designed to give you the education and the experience needed as you travel the path upon which you hope to accompany your clients.
Grief, love, and life is a journey to be walked in the company of others.
We know that Interconnected 2020 will take place online.
We also know that too many hours spent online without a break could cause serious mental fatigue.
So, we put together this playlist of videos and resources to give your mind and body the rhythm and connection needed to regulate and learn. They are intended to be watched as “Brain Breaks” during the conference—to ensure the conference experience is rejuvenating and FUN.
Still need a ticket to the conference? Get it now!
This playlist was carefully chosen to deepen your experience at Interconnected 2020.
All of these things bring us rhythm––visual and auditory rhythm, specifically––which helps to regulate, organize, and integrate the entire brain. These videos are intended to regulate the most lower regions of the brain so that our brain and body can connect with self and others and are capable of concrete and abstract learning and thought. With so many options you can “choose your flavor” – we hope you enjoy!
This year, our Interconnected 2020 conference will be virtual. This means that the speakers you watch and the workshops you participate in will be done on a computer monitor or screen.
While this makes attending the conference more convenient, it may cause you to experience symptoms related to Zoom Fatigue—exhaustion that comes with focusing intently on a computer screen for too long.
Don’t worry…we’ve got a plan for that!
This entire conference was designed with you in mind, and that includes avoiding Zoom Fatigue. We’re going to keep you moving, engaged, and connected the entire time! Here’s how.
Keep Moving
Many of the presentations were designed to keep your body and mind flowing through rhythm and regulation. So we highly encourage you to participate as if you were right there standing in front of each live presenter. Stand up, sit down, and keep moving! This will allow you to stay engaged and invigorated throughout the conference.
Unplug
This is YOUR time. Therefore we advise you to unplug from outside distractions during conference hours. As we would in person, we are asking you to turn off/ silence your cell phone. The more you treat your environment as you would a conference hall, the more you will receive from this life-changing experience.
Get Grounded
Our Daily Healing Practices provide you with an opportunity to move, stretch, and connect deeper to yourself and those participating in the conference with you. We encourage you to attend each morning and evening to SHIFT your mind and body’s focus from the computer screen, inward.
Connect with Living Beings
If possible spend time with other living beings! A person, an animal, a tree––we need others to regulate. Co-regulation is a biological imperative and will absolutely combat Zoom fatigue! If you can, take moments for physical closeness with a friend, an animal companion, or in nature. A plant, a tree, your God…these connections matter so much.
Bonus Tip
Turn off your video or use your speaker view during the conference. Only “be seen” when you want to see your body. This can help you to shift your focus away from watching yourself, to healing yourself.
You can turn off “self view” – turn on your camera to ensure your lighting is good, and then hide “self-view”.
Together, we will transform the virtual experience into one of greater mindfulness, connectedness, and transcendence.
There is still time to register for Interconnected 2020! I hope you can join us!
One of my now-favorite yoga instructors leads her students through a series of poses several times at the beginning of each class, both by demonstration and verbal cueing, and then falls silent as she continues to move through the sequence without calling out the poses as we go forward. At intervals, she reminds us, “Trust your body. You know the way.”
At first, I would become confused about which pose to do next without her spoken directions, and found myself constantly checking to see if I was doing the same pose as she was (which sometimes involved awkwardly craning my neck and twisting my body to observe her next move. Yes, I did fall over a few times. This is less painful than falling off a horse but no less embarrassing). Over time, however, I began to trust my muscle memory, realizing that after a few passes through the sequence, my body truly did “know the way.” I could close my eyes and allow myself to flow through the series from one pose to the next without having to constantly glance over at the instructor.
I also accepted that sometimes I was out of sequence or off the pace but that this really didn’t matter so long as I was matching my breath to my movements and staying centered and grounded in my own practice of being mindfully present in my own body and in my own space on my yoga mat.
Something about this phrase “you know the way,” caught my attention early on and kept me coming back to her class despite the initial awkwardness involved in her lack of cueing (I am a rule follower and want to “get things right.”)
As a young immigrant with Dutch parents, I often found myself ignorant of the customs, idioms, and cultural knowledge that my American peers took for granted. Halloween was a mystery (but a fun one. Who can beat the combination of costumes and candy?) We opened presents on the 5th of December (Sinterklaas) instead of the 25th. We put mayonnaise on our French Fries and chocolate sprinkles on our sandwiches (both are delicious, by the way). I often found myself looking around to see how others were behaving, speaking, or dressing to try to fit in and not inadvertently relegate myself to social Siberia.
In other words, I did not learn to trust myself to “know the way.” Developing an eating disorder early in life further disrupted my ability to listen to and trust my body or my brain. It has taken me years of healing and recovery to discover that I can know what I need and want and have enough value to take steps to seek for those needs and wants to be met.
Many of us are finding that we currently do not “know the way” forward due to conflicting information and differing opinions on how and even whether to re-open the economy and resume activities previously banned due to the coronavirus restrictions. People are passionately divided over how to best pursue safety and sanity during these uncertain times. The news coverage is full of angry confrontations between those with conflicting belief systems. The confusion, chaos, and lack of clear direction can lead us to feelings of overwhelm, hopelessness, powerless, and even despair. No matter where you land in this ongoing debate about the collective good vs. individual rights and freedoms, however, there are certain principles that can help us “know the way” during this challenging time:
Compassionfor ourselves and others. Chronic stress can overwhelm our coping mechanisms and cause us to behave and speak in ways we normally wouldn’t. Be quick to apologize and quick to forgive both ourselves and others.
Kindness towards ourselves and others. Now, more than ever, we need to have patience and grace as we all struggle to adjust to a new normal that we don’t always understand how to navigate successfully.
Patience towards ourselves and others. Learning new skills and alternate ways of doing tasks takes time. We learn everything new by trial and error, from walking to multiplication to riding a bicycle. We learn more from our mistakes than our successes. Learning to ask for help and to laugh at ourselves can help defuse a potentially frustrating or defeating situation.
Acceptance of ourselves, others, and our new circumstances. Acceptance is sometimes mistaken for liking or wanting or being “ok” with someone or something. Actually, acceptance is simply acknowledging that the current situation “is what it is.” It doesn’t mean we like it or want it that way, just that it is that way. Until we accept that something is currently true, we cannot put any energy or attention towards trying to make any changes, because all of our energy is being channeled into defense mechanisms like denial, or minimization, or avoidance (my three favorites, personally). Only once we accept, or acknowledge a problem, can we begin to consider ways to tackle it and make things better. This extends to accepting ourselves, as we currently are, and others as well. Acceptance is not resignation. It is the beginning of empowerment for change.
I had to learn to stop looking around to see what everyone else was doing in order to fit in. I realized my nervous system was designed to keep me safe and help me make decisions and take actions congruent with my own values, beliefs, needs, and wants. While it is important to consult trusted sources for guidance in areas outside of our area of expertise, is it also important to check in with yourself to see what feels right for your particular wiring, personality, moral compass, and situation, as well as considering your emotional, mental and physical capacity.
Turn off the news, find a quiet place, close your eyes, and check-in with yourself (and your Higher Power if this is part of your belief system). Don’t just look outward. Look inward. You know the way.
Kathleen Choe is an LPC-S and NL Trainer. Learn more with her at the Natural Lifemanship Conference, Interconnected 2020!
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