Operation Embodiment

Relating to and creating balance between the three centers of intelligence

Good morning everyone, happy Sunday.

I returned last Sunday from a two-week trip to Hawaii’s Big Island, which was—as you can imagine—totally enchanting. I was obsessed with the “Minimum Speed Limit” signs (see some delight below). This is the only place I personally have ever been to where people need reminders to not go *too* slow.

This week, dropping back into my busy city life, people have been asking me, “How are you?”—and I’ve been telling them “I feel like I’m running on two out of four burners.” But I don’t think that’s true. I think what’s true is that moving half as fast was better for me than I could have imagined. Now that I’m back, I’m experiencing the discomfort of living in the gap: the gap between how I want to live (slow, spacious, simple), and the reality of the to-do list, of being a newly(ish) minted entrepreneur, of traffic and speed and urgency and all the pressure I put on myself to do, do, do. I’m home, and deeply grateful for my time away, and I’m sitting with the current (forever?) question: How to close the gap?

In the spirit of gap closing and simple, slow, spacious living: Did you know I’m hosting a retreat in Italy in October? 😎 If you’re curious, but still discerning whether it’s the right choice for you, I want to invite you to a FREE Italy Retreat Open House happening on Wednesday, July 12th, from 5-6pm PST. There will be a guided visualization, journaling, conversation, and I’ll answer all your questions about joining us for With Pleasure! in the fall. Hope to see you!

Finally—this week’s essay considers another question I’m exploring, which is: what would it look like to deepen into my own sense of embodiment? Read on for what I’m committing to for “Operation Embodiment” and think about joining me.

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💥 Events 💥

FREE VIRTUAL EVENT: Italy Retreat Open House is happening Wednesday, 7/12, from 5-6pm PST. This event will feature grounding meditation and visualization, some reflection journal prompts, and give you the opportunity to ask any and all your questions about With Pleasure! my sober retreat happening this fall. Let’s be together and you can discern if this event is a good choice for you <3 To register, click here.

VIRTUAL EVENT: July Writing Workshop is live! Join us Sunday, 7/30, from 10am-12pm PST. Workshops feature two writing prompts, and a (zero-obligation) option to read aloud and receive non-critical feedback. This workshop is appropriate for all levels. For more information and to register, click here.

INTERNATIONAL EVENT: SELF MADE presents With Pleasure! —a seven-day alcohol-free retreat in Tuscany happening this October 7-14. I’ve partnered with Carol Sicbaldi, founder of Carol’s Moveable Feast, with the intention that you reclaim joy and pleasure, relish in your five senses, and soak in the richness of your surroundings. To learn more and make a deposit, click here.

❓Questions? Ask. I’m here and I’d love to hear from you.

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Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash

One of the things in my life I’m most grateful for is the way movement has shaped me and supported me. It’s also been the thing that saved me. I danced all through childhood, somehow avoiding the competitive, cutthroat nature often associated with ballet, and there were a few seasons I swam on the elementary school swim team. In junior high and high school, it was horseback riding at a crusty little barn. Tuning into the energy of the friendly beast I learned to groom, ride, and otherwise tend to, took me out of my anxious brain, and taught me to be in the present, to pay attention, and though I didn’t have language for any of this back then, it was empowering to command an animal that weighed 15x more than me, to train and befriend and be entrusted with its care.

In college, I signed up for a one-unit elective that would fulfill a physical education requirement. I chose yoga. While I’d never taken a yoga class before, I had a vague understanding of what I might expect, and with my dance background it seemed a logical choice. Then, in 2015 I got into CrossFit, which I’ve been coaching in 2019. These days, I LOVE the physical sensation of strength, I love chasing goals (and my fitter friends), and few things have been more practically helpful for my mental health than facing the discomfort inherent in a gnarly workout and getting to the other side every time.

In retrospect, I see that movement was (is) the thing that kept me tethered. Physical activity was (is) the thread that held me together. It was what held me back from ever fully flailing myself off the metaphorical ledge I seemed hell bent on leaping off, and yes, I’m referring to the toughest of the drinking years, but also, even now when I’m faced with any trouble or heartache (grief, breakups, work chaos, anxiety flares, social upheaval, global pandemics, all the hard life-stuff), I go to the gym; I grab the Tater for a walk; I run. Movement doesn’t solve the issue but it gets me through hard things in a way that causes the least amount of harm, and if you’re like me, which is to say, if you’re skilled and practiced at causing yourself harm, you cling like a barnacle to whatever it is that keeps you buoyed without sending you to the bottom of the sea.

Generally speaking, I have what I would describe as a good relationship with my body. I move it often. I mostly eat things that make me feel good, and I no longer judge myself when I choose to indulge. Sleep is complicated but I’m in a good cycle right now. Rest is an ongoing negotiation, but thankfully when I do have downtime, I relish in it, I roll around in it, I’m more than happy staring at the wall or losing myself in a book all day (boredom and too much downtime with myself used to be my #1 trigger so this last one is a major win).

I share this because on the surface, I’d describe myself as “embodied.” I can pick up on the subtle, more energetic nuances of my physical experience. I regularly do gut-checks when faced with a decision, and I’m learning to listen to and trust this information every day more. As a movement practitioner, I’m aware of the current cultural buzz around nervous system regulation (breathwork, vagal nerve toning, waking up to the degree to which our body is keeping score, and so on), and I’ve been tracking the growing emphasis on somatics and trauma-informed care, as well as the growing awareness and sensitivity around cultural appropriation. There’s plenty to critique about wellness culture (and the pandemic amplified the darkest, weirdest aspects of it). But as I look back at over twenty years of practice and almost fifteen years teaching, it’s good to reflect on what I consider positive aspects of the evolution.

So: what does it mean to be embodied? How do we know that’s what’s happening, and that we’re not just, say, grinding through the most intense workout of our lives once/day and then sitting like a deflated fish in front of a laptop the rest of the time (hi), crossing “get embodied” off the neverending to-do list at the end of the day?

A very basic way to think about “embodiment” is that it’s a sense of feeling at home in your body.

But what does that actually mean?

Lately, I’ve been noticing all the ways I’m cut-off from my embodiment. Sure, there are bursts of physical activity. But an awareness is growing about how utterly dominated I am by my brain, and how, even with my background, even with my daily practices, I still operate more often than not completely disconnected from everything below my neck. It’s been a surprise, honestly. But I’m listening.

I’m noticing the ways I’m cut-off in a couple of different ways: first, physically. There are moments in front of the computer that I sense into my spine, and it’s that deflated fish feeling, absolutely no space between vertebrae. It’s a persistent tension in my neck and shoulders. It’s the way I sit in this chair, unable to adjust a shape that aggravates a sacroiliac imbalance. And, as much as I love my workouts, I’m noticing how tight and bound-up everything gets when I’m not balancing it out with gentler movement.

But the other thing I’m noticing is the low thrum of anxiety coloring everything.

At this point in my Anxiety Journey™, I know I can’t think my way out of it. I still try. But intellectually I understand that this is a futile approach.

So now I’m paying attention to this soft inner call (the call is coming from inside the house!) that is nudging me toward what I know is my next growth edge: exploring somatics/embodiment <insert other ambiguously defined jargony term here> which to me means learning to turn to my body for wisdom with as much—if not more—frequency as I do my pobrecita overworked brain.

Sometimes I have these moments where I suddenly become aware of all that I’m missing, all the information that is unavailable to me when I’m overthinking or figuring out or ruminating or future tripping or judging or evaluating. I know there’s so much more. Now begins the annoying part: breaking yet another (!) habitual pattern.

In Integral Coaching, we view human beings through the three “centers of intelligence” - the head, the heart, and the body. We practice tuning in and listening to these centers, and bringing balance across all three so that they are neither overworked nor neglected. I am waking up to the ways I over-rely on my cognition. My aim is to disrupt this tendency, and to develop the other centers.

Enter “Operation Embodiment.”

💃🏽🏋🏽‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️🚶🏻‍♀️😴

Twice a day, I’m committing to getting out of my chair and doing some gentle movement on the floor, for 10-15 minutes each time. That’s it. That’s where I’m starting.

The most annoying thing about this for me is that it’s the simplest thing but it’s also the hardest thing.

I can’t *think* my way into a felt-sense of embodiment. I have to, well, embody a new shape. I can “develop awareness” all day long, but if I’m not practicing, if there is no associated action, then I’m continuing to run in place, which is just as exhausting as it sounds.

Operation Embodiment is an invitation to discover a sense of home in my body. It’s connecting to the gentle kindness and easy wisdom that I know is always available, but that I’m so good at overriding in my efforts to wrangle, tame, control, preen, push, perform.

This past Wednesday, I went for a blustery, summer solstice walk up Bernal Hill with my bestie. We saw a Great-Horned Owl, walked until it was dark, watched the no-matter-how-long-I’ve-lived-here-always-captivating way the fog drapes herself over Twin Peaks. My friend is inside her own embodiment experiment, and we talked and walked and watched the sky and marveled at the bird and it was so good, as it always, always is, to remember that I’m not alone.

In my own experience, and in my coaching practice, so much of the re-programming we do is to re-learn, or remember, how to stay close to our hearts, our bodies. We all know that we spend too much time in our brains, or in front of screens, taking in constant information, or moving so fast there’s no time or space to feel much of anything. We suspect that another way is possible, and so we get curious.

At some point, that curiosity (or, if you’re like me, it’s less curiosity and more getting to a point where you’re too fed up with yourself to not try something different) turns to action. Different actions lead to fresh discoveries and a momentum is created. From there, we get to build—to design—something entirely new.

I have no idea what will happen on the other side of this experiment. But I have my suspicions. I imagine more ease, more space. A quieting of the inner engine, that old runaway train finally resting cozy in the garage. I imagine a slowness, a savoring. An ability to be of more effective service.

And maybe I learn to love my creature body in a way that honors all it does for me; maybe my body becomes a place of celebration, a place of unfettered, unself-conscious self-expression; maybe it’s where I turn to for solace, maybe I learn to rest for real in the softness of presence, the grace of the earth from which I—we—am here on this planet, in this moment, with this head-heart-body, doing the best I can to live in a way that is good more often than any other way, lucky as hell to be out here with all of you.

Want to join me? I’m staring Monday. You can share in the comments what you want to practice (or borrow mine—I’m always happy to share).

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If you like support in your own experiment, of if you’re curious to learn more about Integral Coaching, I’m opening my books to new clients for start dates in July. I’ll be raising my prices in the fall, so if you’ve been curious, now is a good time to chat (sign up for an Alignment Session here). It’s deep and beautiful work and I’d love to walk alongside you.

And remember to roll through for our (free!) Italy Retreat Open House on July 12 🍕🍝

All my love,
Dani

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SELF MADE is a rebellious recovery community that empowers you to liberate yourself from societal programming and boldly step into a life of your design. Posts are written by me, Dani Cirignano, founder, writer, Integral coach, and recovery guide based in San Francisco, CA. 

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