same same, but different
There’s this feeling that’s come up throughout my life of helplessness and incapability. A familiar feeling that rises when I’m overwhelmed in certain relational situations. It tells me I’m weak and incapable of conflict, incapable of being an adult. The words coming out of my mouth, if any, get short, broken up, incomprehensible, and I become filled with shame. This automatic reaction – this survival management system – may not be supportive, but it’s well fucking worn. For a long time, when I’d feel it rising in me, I’d think, “See? The same old shit. Here is proof that I’m incompetent.”
Whether trauma related or not, we all have emotional themes that thread through our lives— these core beliefs about ourselves and the world that get woven tightly together as they’re confirmed again and again.
But who is confirming them?
There is no simple answer. Humans and our violent isms can be incredibly and repetitively harmful and disappointing. It’s appropriate to have emotional and physical responses to harm, and to remember that harm in our bones.
But sometimes these protective responses crowd our view of what’s true and possible in the present. The nuance within similarity that the Thai-English saying “same same, but different” suggests is not accessible. It seems safer to create a wide berth around what’s tender or terrifying.
Our intergenerational somatic history impacts how we decipher what’s similar and different from our past in the present. It shapes our automatic responses and tends to prioritize what’s familiar over all other available options.
While there is very real harm in the world that can hurt us over and over again, being embodied means that we can take new intentional action under the same old types of pressures.
So why practice embodiment? Why feel? Because on an individual and collective scale, not feeling begets more harm and disfunction. Because when we feel, we get to choose a response that is aligned with what is most important to us. I get to choose whether my automatic response is effective in his moment, or if I want to choose something new.
One way you can do that is to feel into the present moment and notice what’s similar about this experience that’s impacting you, and what’s different within you and the environment. What is similar about this situation that might affect how strongly I feel (or don’t feel) emotionally and physically? What is actually different about this present experience, compared to when I’ve felt this feeling before? What’s different about how I can respond to it? What’s possible?
Embodiment is a prefigurative practice. First we imagine the life and world that we’re fighting for, and then we begin to shape our behavior by leading from desire, pleasure and vision. Change doesn’t have to happen fast. It’s actually more delicious if we can learn to notice its nuance.
I still feel that sticky, stuck shame feeling sometimes during conflict or tension, but now I can also notice my spine connected to my pelvis connected to my feet. I note the safety cues around me— maybe a facial expression of patience and concern, or knowing I can go lay down and take a break. I ask myself how open and permeable my heart wants to feel. And then, again and again, a new feeling emerges into possibility. A feeling that tells me, “See? You are safe enough. You can do this.”
Reflection Questions:
Where do you have choice under pressure, grief, or tension in your life?
Where does it feel like you don’t?
What is most important to you?
Who is most important to you?
What do you desire?
What does desire feel like?