Last weekend, I had the privilege of assisting SEI faculty Maureen Gallagher in leading the Beginning Level 2 Somatic Experiencing training. Two takeaways landed deeply:
- The power of impact, and
- The reminder of how many people are doing good, heart-forward work in the world.
I want to start there.
Y’all… I just want you to know: there are so many people out here doing amazing, generous work—offering their time, energy, and attention to change the way we understand health, vitality, and connection. They’re doing it because they want to help make this world less traumatized, less isolated, and less governed by default patterning. They’re doing it to find their way toward more aliveness—for themselves, and for the people they serve.
In SE, we refer to this as re-orienting around a resource—rather than around the vortex of trauma.
I’ve been grappling with this inside myself—trying to keep orienting toward what is working, toward what actually affirms the goodness in people, toward what liberates us into a more loving existence. And… it’s hard. Trauma is fucking magnetic. Especially in a world of media that often loops our attention back toward fear, outrage, and despair.
Trauma is powerful for a reason. We’re wired to orient toward what feels threatening, to scan for danger. That vigilance is part of how we survive. But sometimes, that orientation calcifies into a default—a habitual way of relating that’s driven more by fear than by actual, present threat. We become less effective at loving and less alive.
And so… re-orienting toward life—toward what’s nourishing, connective, or even just pleasant—can feel unfamiliar. Shifting out of a trauma vortex isn’t always easy. Sometimes it feels… off. Even wrong.
There are a lot of words we use to describe that “wrong” feeling:
Bypassing.
Sidestepping.
Ignoring.
Dodging.
Disregarding.
Even as I write this, I notice a familiar inner voice asking:
Isn’t this selfish? Am I suggesting avoiding what’s important?
She’s sneaky and strong, that old narrative—one that says joy, connection, or relief must be earned, or else they’re indulgent. Entitled. Maybe even irresponsible.
Lately I’ve been wondering if it’s possible to move in and out of these vortexes with more flexibility. To respond to what’s needed without getting stuck in one state.
Like-
I can donate to Gaza relief efforts,
and enjoy making a delicious meal for my family.
I can attend a protest,
and call a friend just to laugh until we cry.
I can write postcards to my representatives,
and stretch on the floor in a spot of sunshine.
Am I avoiding one with the other?
What am I passing by?
My struggle here is ancient. It’s shaped by a long-held belief that I’m not doing enough. That who I am—how I move through the world, the way I show up in my work, my relationships—is not enough. That I should give more, should tend more, shouldache more, to be a good person.
When I look at it clearly, I can see: this is a protective response.
My body, trying to keep me safe, clings to the old story that “being enough” is too vulnerable. Too risky.
And yet… I’m aware enough to want to unhook from that story.
To risk the discomfort of re-orienting again and again toward what is enlivening.
That unhooking doesn’t come easily—it stretches me, awkwardly, toward being in an unfamiliar space.
Lately, I’ve been re-orienting around things like:
- Early dinner with dear friends in a messy house
- The shocking brightness of spring flowers
- Being loud and wild with my kids
- Making my new dance show
- The smell of freshly ground coffee in the morning
- Warm baby smiles
- A tightly made bed
- New music I’ve never heard before
- Amazing-smelling hand soap
- A solid hour of genius stand-up comedy
It sounds like a basic gratitude list.
But here’s what makes it different: I’m not just listing them.
I’m letting them impact me, in real time.
This helps that unhooking happen.
I’m staying in the after moments of when they happen—letting the experience land in my body.Letting myself be changed. This is the power of impact. Not just the doing, but the effect.