MY BODY, the PATIENT TEACHER
Image: Woman stretching at her desk, tuning into her body's signals with curious awareness and refreshing honesty.
My anxiety had reached what you might call "advanced level shit." Not the sassy kind where you worry about whether people like your outfit. This was the kind where your heart races so fast you Google "heart attack symptoms" at 3am, until you're single-handedly hammering the NHS symptom checker so relentlessly that their servers might collapse from exhaustion.
For months I didn't sleep. My body would lie there, an exhausted child ready for bed, whilst my brain threw spectacular tantrums about every possible disaster that could happen tomorrow, next week, or in the apocalyptic hellscape I was certain awaited humanity.
I knew something was off. The same way I'd known that putting my chocolate bikini in with white shirts would be a disaster, but did it anyway because I was rushing and ignored that voice saying "this won't end well." I had that same knowing now, my body was trying to tell me something, and I was trying to resolve it with chamomile tea and meditation apps that had me "observing my thoughts" (which is brilliant advice, but mate, have you met these particular thoughts?).
So one evening when, instead of reaching for my phone to scroll deeper into anxiety, I reminded myself that once upon a time, I used to trust my instincts. Before life became a game of too many Jenga bricks and I started second-guessing every feeling, I could sense when something wasn't right.
Alright then, what exactly was my body trying to tell me? I noticed my breathing was pathetically shallow, my shoulders had consumed my neck, and my jaw was rubbing back and forth, like I was trying to light a splint for a fire. My entire body was braced for war, except I was lying in my own bloody bed, a very comfortable one at that.
I had been learning to pay attention to what was going on, a revolutionary act at the time. I loosened my jaw, dropped my shoulders, took a proper breath through my nose that went all the way down to my belly instead of those crappy little chest puffs I'd been surviving on.
My heart rate slowed, not immediately, it's not bloody magic, but surprisingly quickly. Within a week of practicing I started to feel like I had reprogrammed my internal alarm system so that it wasn't going off every 20 minutes. Well, fuck me, I thought. I might just have an understanding of what to do here.
Over the next few months I became very aware of this forgotten skill. Whereas I had treated anxiety as some enemy I had to resist at all costs, I now invited it in as a bit of dramatically delivered, but valuable information. As my chest tightened before tough conversations, I knew my body was saying "you need to go into this gently—it's going to be tricky." When my stomach churned after difficult experiences, it was noting "that didn't feel right—what do you need now?"
Science is onto this you know. It's called interoception, your brain's ability to sense what's happening inside your body. When you pay attention to these signals instead of fighting them, you can completely rewire your emotional regulation. There is something called your anterior insula, think of it as your brain's internal Google Translate. When you can get in tune with your body, this translator gets better at processing what your body is telling you. Instead of just screaming "DANGER! EMERGENCY!" it starts giving you nuanced information. That racing heart could be "big presentation coming up, need to prepare" or "too much coffee, ease up." Anxiety is information rather than punishment.
Starting is stupendously simple. Each morning in bed, I do a quick body scan, a mental check-in from toes to head. What's happening in this gorgeous vessel today? Is my right shoulder tighter than my left again? Am I holding tension in my hips? Research shows this very simple practice rewires the brain regions that process internal sensations. After just eight weeks, people report significantly better emotional regulation. [1]
When my heart starts racing during the day, instead of panicking about the panic, I use a 4-7-8 breathing technique: in for 4 counts, hold for 7, out for 8. Repeat for 4 to 6 times. This activates your parasympathetic nervous system, basically your body's "chill the fuck out" button. Studies show it reduces anxiety symptoms within minutes and improves sleep quality within weeks. [2]
I take intentional walks. Get up, switch off the laptop, put on my shoes and just walk. This does not involve power-walking whilst rehearsing my to-do list. I notice my feet hitting the ground, how I extend my gait, how far my arms swing, how my breath changes on an incline, how my butt muscles engage on the stairs. Research on "interoceptive exposure" shows that gentle movement turns up the volume on your body's communication system. It makes your body's signals stronger and easier to detect. [3]
At my desk, when I felt tension building, I stretch the tight areas gently whilst breathing into them. Please don't fight the tension with a "I will release you, damn it" vibe. Think about curious stretching that asks "how does this feel?" Studies show this combination of simple movement and attention reduces stress hormones within minutes. [4]
I reckon 4-8 weeks to get from overwrought to calmer is a ridiculously quick timeframe. After years of being vetoed, my fabulously charming body stepped up and helped me out, without holding the slightest grudge that I'd ignored her for such a time.
For almost two years now I've slept through the night, helped by MHT (talk about listening to your body in crisis!!). I have definitely not conquered anxiety, but I have somewhat remembered how to work with it. Now when my heart starts racing, I am a little bit better at noticing it and checking in: What's going on Len? What do you need?
As a result, I'm calmer, more present, less like I'm bracing for catastrophe. My friends have started to notice a little and some have taken an interest in what it means to listen to your body while others nod politely (or not so politely) whilst thinking that I'm spouting wellness woo-woo.
I don't actually think I've learned anything new. I've just regrouped with the instincts that warn me about soaking chocolate bikinis, and guide me through countless decisions without doubting myself.
You know how you naturally sense when you're about to get a cold - that shift in energy, the feeling of something's coming? These signals never stopped. Your heart's been beating in your chest your entire life, your breath's been flowing, your muscles contracting and releasing. But somewhere along the way, probably when adults told you to "sit still" or "stop being so sensitive", you learned to disavow these signals.
So this regrouping is sort of like clearing away years of "shoulds" and overthinking to uncover a fertile capacity hidden underneath.
My body is a remarkably patient teacher. She's never giving up on me, even when I'd given up on trusting myself. She arrives, every day, ready to participate with her wise counsel the moment I remember that I'm open to listening to her.
Turns out, anxiety isn't my enemy after all - though it still feels like that on so many days. It is just my body's most dramatic teaching method. My grade 5 teacher that would throw a blackboard duster at us when speaking in regular tones hadn't attracted our focus. A terrible outcome admittedly, (white chalk all over your maroon jumper) but he had genuinely good intentions. Like the best teachers, my body has never stopped believing I can listen—I'd just forgotten I always knew how. And if my spectacularly anxious self can figure this out, I reckon anyone can.
Sources:
Fischer, D., Messner, M., & Pollatos, O. (2017). Improvement of interoceptive processes after an 8-week body scan intervention. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 11, 452.
Vierra, J., Becker, J., Phuong, L., Salgado, R. M., Naseer, N., Kerstetter, J., & Goldstein, R. L. (2022). Effects of sleep deprivation and 4‐7‐8 breathing control on heart rate variability, blood pressure, blood glucose, and endothelial function in healthy young adults. Physiological Reports, 10(13), e15389. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9277512/; Bentley, T. G. K., D'Andrea, W., Brands, K., & Uebelacker, L. A. (2023). Breathing practices for stress and anxiety reduction: Conceptual framework of implementation guidelines based on a systematic review of the published literature. Brain Sciences, 13(12), 1612. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC10741869/
Price, C. J., & Weng, H. Y. (2021). Facilitating Adaptive Emotion Processing and Somatic Reappraisal via Sustained Mindful Interoceptive Attention. Frontiers in Psychology, 12, 578827. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8481564/;
Stanford Lifestyle Medicine. (2024). How Exercise Balances Cortisol Levels. Stanford Medicine. https://lifestylemedicine.stanford.edu/how-exercise-balances-cortisol-levels/