Embodied Activism
Embodied activism isn’t a concept—it’s a lived practice.
It was a call back to my body.
It shows up in how I breathe through discomfort.
In how I stay present with sensation, even when everything in me wants to pull away.
It’s in how I allow space for urges to rise and move—those urges that used to lead me to shut down, lash out, or freeze in the face of conflict or injustice.
I used to think somatic work was only about healing trauma—and in many ways, it is. But I’ve come to realize it’s also a pathway to aliveness, inner authority, and embodied justice.
It’s about building capacity. It’s about learning to be with more, to feel more, and yet to find magic in the ordinary and even mundane moments. It’s a practice of deeper listening.
I first found somatic therapy in 2020 while I was struggling with chronic health issues. And along the way, I realized that it was so much more than just a "modality" of well-being. It became life itself. It was relational, it was my voice, and ultimately, it was a form of activism—embodied activism that came from within, shaping how I attached to the world, to others, to animals, the land and of course myself.
The way I relate to others has changed.
The way I speak up, the way I soften, the way I hold complexity—it’s all rooted in how I now relate to myself. To my own nervous system. To the stories and survival strategies that once ran the show.
This is why I believe so deeply in embodied activism. Because when I do the inner work, I show up differently in the world—with more courage, more openness, and more presence.
I’m able to welcome different perspectives and make space for them—while still standing in the truth shaped by my own lived experience.
Let’s be honest—our world is asking so much of us right now.
Whether I’m in a conversation with someone I love, navigating conflict, creating something new, or simply walking through the world—I lean on these practices to
Respond instead of react
Access courage without projection
Stay rooted in connection without sacrificing myself
This, to me, is what activism looks like in everyday life.
It’s not just in the big moments—it’s in the pauses, in the choices, in the breath I take before I speak. Because I know my words have impact- and impact over intent is critical within the web of relationships.
This is activism that lives in the body.
In the way I hold myself.
In how I stay with others through discomfort.
In how I learn to stay with myself.
This is how I’m learning to be part of the revolution—one breath, one moment, one relationship at a time.
The very principles of somatics have shown me that we cannot dismantle oppressive systems with the same nervous systems that were shaped within them. And we cannot build new, life-affirming futures with bodies stuck in old survival loops.
So I begin here.
With the body.
With the breath.
With the willingness to feel, to stay, and to move differently.
That’s what embodied activism means for me.
And I believe it’s where real change begins.
