When the body doesn't remember support.

What if your body has never felt fully supported? Or it's been so long, you don't even remember what it feels like?

For many of us, support isn't just something we lack. It's something our body doesn't have a reference point for.

Maybe there was no one to hold us when we were overwhelmed. Maybe the ground was never safe. Maybe being "soft" meant being unprotected.

So we learned to hold it all.

To stay alert.

To function - even when frozen.

And now, here we are...trying to soften, to rest, to let go - but finding it terrifying or impossible.

Not because we're doing it wrong. But because we never had the felt language of support in the first place.

So here we go...we are doing something amazing creating a new alphabet for the body so you feel supported...fully supported even in your amazing headstands and handstands.

So where do we begin?

We don't begin by trying to feel supported. That can feel like asking the body to skip a step. We begin by being honest. I don't know how to feel supported. That honesty is something special. It might require you to take your pink colored glasses off but this practice in long term is gold! Because in the long term you will stop being attracted to places, spaces that doesn't support you.

From there we start slowly - with titration.

We meet support not in theory, but through sensation. In small, digestible doses.

What are you connecting to? - The weight of your sacrum meeting the floor.

The gentle rise and fall of your breath against a bolster. A single exhale where you don't have to hold yourself up. These are places we begin to build our inner container...Not through effort, but through presence. Not through collapse, but through yielding with awareness.

Believe me support doesn't always feel good at first. It might feel unfamiliar or vulnerable or even like a threat and that's okay. The nervous system doesn't fake safety. It either feels it - or it doesn't. And your body's wisdom is that is something to honour, not override.

But with gentleness - over time - the body begins to remember. That it's allowed to be held. That softness doesn't have to mean danger. The rest can be safe.

A Simple practice: Meeting the Ground

Lie in constructive rest ( on your back, knees bent, feet on the floor, arms relaxed).

Take a few breaths without trying to relax. Just notice.

Feel the contact points between your body and the floor.

Let your sacrum drop 5% more into the ground beneath you - not to collaps, just to allow.

Notice if there's one part of your body that might rest just a little more.

Stay for a few minutes. Breathe. Be. Nothing to fix.

Practice every day.

Support doesn't always arrive all at once. But when we meet it gently, consistently, and with care - something within us starts to exhale. This is how we build, not for perfection but for presence.

Finding your path

Loosen your grip.

Give yourself permission to be imperfect.

Don't seek what others are seeking,

(unless it echoes in your bones).

Spit out whatever you have ingested

about not being enough.

Your realness is delicious.

And you don't need to obsess any longer about finding your path.

Start simple.

Tie a string

from your heart to your feet

and only walk in direction

that makes you tick.

-Deborah Anne Quibell