My Grandmother's Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Mending of Our Bodies and Hearts

by Resmaa Menakem

our bodies don’t care about logic, truth, or cognitive experience. They care about safety and survival. They care about responding to a perceived threat, even when that threat is not real. As a result, our bodies scare the hell out of each other.

—BODY PRACTICE— Find a quiet, private spot. Plan to spend three to four minutes there, alone. Sit comfortably. Take a few breaths. Turn your head and slowly look around in all directions, especially behind you. Orient yourself in the surrounding space. If you’re indoors, notice the height of the ceiling, the height and color of each wall, any doors or windows, and any other details that stand out. If you are outside, take note of any boundaries, such as a footpath, a fence, the edge of a clearing, or the shore of a pond. Notice any plant or animal life nearby. Note what sounds you hear, any smells that fill the air, any warmth or coolness, and any colors that stand out. When you are done scanning your environment, face forward once again and return your attention to your body. Sense how your feet rest on the ground and how your butt rests on the seat. Now notice any other sensations in your body: the bend in your knees; your spine, straight or curved; a breeze in your hair; your belly and any tension you hold there; and your chest, expanding and shrinking with each breath. Notice what your body experiences inside your clothing. Pay attention to where your body touches your underwear, your socks or stockings, your shirt or blouse, your pants or skirt or dress. Starting at the top of your head, bring your attention slowly down through your body. Notice each sensation as your attention passes through it: warmth, coolness, relaxation, tightness, softness, pressure, energy, num...

—BODY PRACTICE— Sit quietly and comfortably for a minute or two, breathing normally. Notice your breath as it enters your nose, your windpipe, your lungs. For thirty seconds, simply follow it as it goes in and out of your body. Then bring your attention to the bottom of your feet. Sense the ground beneath them, supporting you. Stay focused here for a few breaths. Move your attention to your back, to the sensation of it pressing lightly against the chair. Feel the chair supporting you, doing what it was designed to do. Now think of a person or a pet or a place that makes you feel safe and secure. Imagine you’re with that person or pet, or in that safe place. Let yourself experience that safety and security for a few seconds. Now check in with your body. Start with your shoulders. How do they feel? Relaxed or constricted? Closed or open? What about your neck? Your jaw? Your major joints—your ankles, knees, hips, wrists, elbows, and shoulders? Your back? Your sphincter? Your toes? Stay with the experience for a couple of breaths. Notice if anything arises or changes, such as a vibration, a sensation, an image, an emotion, an impulse, or a meaning. Now imagine the comforting person, pet, or place is gone. Instead, there’s an angry stranger standing in front of you. The stranger’s arms are crossed and he or she is glaring at you silently. You look into the stranger’s eyes, hoping his or her expression will soften, but it remains unchanged. Check in with your body again. How do ...

—BODY PRACTICE— Find a quiet, comfortable place where you can be alone for a few minutes. Bring with you a piece of string (or rope or yarn) at least ten to twelve feet long. Stand in an open area. Take a few deep, slow breaths. Using the string, create a circle on the ground. Adjust its size so that when you stand in its center and you imagine someone else standing on the circle’s edge, you are a comfortable distance from them. Once the circle is the right size, take your place at its center. Breathe in and out a few more times. Think of someone you know who is caring and supportive. This can be a friend, a relative, a neighbor, a partner, or a friendly acquaintance. Visualize this person walking slowly in your direction toward the circle. As he or she crosses the circle’s edge, pay attention to what your body experiences. Does it relax or constrict? Does it want to move forward or backward? Does it want to reach out, or protect itself, or move in some other way? Now clear your mind. Take three or four more slow breaths. Now visualize someone else you know, someone who is not particularly caring and supportive. This shouldn’t be someone who is outright violent or dangerous, who has threatened you, or who is your sworn enemy. Instead, it might be a boss or coworker with whom you have some friction, or a slightly standoffish neighbor, or perhaps a relative who disagrees with you on several political or social issues. Visualize this person walking slowly in your direction to...

As part of your healing from the trauma of white-body supremacy, you’ll learn to tell when your body is open and when it is constricted; when it is settled and when it is activated; and where and when it is in pain or discomfort. This will take some practice, and you’ll have plenty of opportunities to practice in

Being able to settle into your body is a crucial skill. But settling your body is not the best response in every situation. There will be times when you need to activate your body and act constructively. In fact, when settling is a reflexive response rather than a mindful one, it can be a form of avoiding or overriding an opportunity to serve or heal.

—BODY PRACTICE— Find a quiet, private, comfortable place. Sit down. Put one hand on your knee or in your lap. Place the other on your belly. Now hum. Not from your throat or chest, but from the bottom of your belly. Hum strong and steady. Push the air out of your belly firmly, not gently. Stop to breathe in, but return to the hum with each new breath. Experience the hum in your belly. Then sense it in the rest of your body. Continue humming for two minutes. When you’re done, reach your arms upward. Then, slowly and gently, feel your body with your hands, starting from the top of your head. Move slowly down your neck and along your chest, then below your waist, then past your knees, until your arms are fully extended downward. What do you notice?

Most of us think of trauma as something that occurs in an individual body, like a toothache or a broken arm. But trauma also routinely spreads between bodies, like a contagious disease. When someone with unhealed trauma chooses dirty pain over clean pain, the person may try to soothe his or her trauma by blowing it through another person—using violence, rage, coercion, deception, betrayal, or emotional abuse. This never heals the trauma. Instead, it increases the first person’s dirty pain by reinforcing harmful and aggressive survival strategies as standard operating procedure. It creates a sense of ongoing unease in the first person’s body that he or she then must override. It may also provoke a reflexively defensive or aggressive response in the second person’s body.

Pediatrician Nadine Burke-Harris offers the following apt comparison: “If a child is exposed to lead while their brain is developing, it affects the long-term development of their brain … It’s the same way when a child is exposed to high doses of stress and trauma while their brain is developing … Exposure to trauma is particularly toxic for children.” In other words, there is a biochemical component behind all this.

When people experience repeated trauma, abuse, or high levels of stress for long stretches of time, a variety of stress hormones get secreted into their bloodstreams. In the short term, the purpose of these chemicals is to protect their bodies. But when the levels of these chemicals22 remain high over time, they can have toxic effects, making a person less healthy, less resilient, and more prone to illness. High levels of one or more of these chemicals can also crowd out other, healthier chemicals—those that encourage trust, intimacy, motivation, and meaning.

It’s easy to see how white-body supremacy has created soul wounds for many millions of African American bodies over the past three centuries. It’s less obvious what the inflicting of that trauma has done to white bodies. When I lead workshops on trauma for people in service professions, I often show them a clip from 12 Years a Slave, the film based on the memoir of Solomon Northrup, a free African American from upstate New York who was kidnapped and sold into enslavement in 1853. In the clip, we see slave trader Theophilus Freeman (played by Paul Giamatti) coldly check the health, strength, and muscle tone of his human merchandise. As buyers come by to make purchases, Freeman orders one young African man to run and jump in place for a potential customer. Freeman tells the customer, “You see how fit the boy is. Like ripe fruit. He will grow into a fine beast.” In the same scene, Eliza, a young Black mother, pleads with Freeman to have mercy and not separate her from her daughter. William Ford, a white customer and plantation owner, is moved by her pleas. He asks Freeman, “For God’s sake, are you not sentimental in the least?” Freeman ignores them both, breaks up the family, and says to Ford, “My sentimentality stretches the length of a coin.” Also in that scene, Freeman commands Northrup (played by Chiwetel Ejiofor) to stand and approach him. When Northrup doesn’t respond, Freeman slaps him hard—and loudly—across the face. The clip ends here. At that point I turn to my audi...

Now I’d like you to explore how intergenerational trauma may have affected your life and body. You can do this by reflecting briefly on four events in the lives of your ancestors. Find a quiet, comfortable place where you can be alone and undistracted for at least fifteen minutes. Now consider these questions. 1. When did your ancestors settle in America?24 Did they come here voluntarily, or were they refugees, servants, or enslaved people? Were they fleeing brutality, oppression, plague, war, or poverty? Did they come here in search of a better life? How old were they? How healthy were they? Was there a community or a group of relatives here to welcome and assist them? Did your ancestors speak English when they got here? What other language or languages did they speak? What possessions and skills did they bring with them? To the best of your knowledge, were they hopeful or desperate? Prosperous or poor? As far as you know, did any of your ancestors ever talk about the Native people who arrived on this continent many centuries earlier? If so, what did they say? If you are an immigrant to America yourself, please respond to this question by reflecting on your own experience. 2. What traumatic events directly affected your mother? Your father? How did each event affect them at the time? How did it affect the choices they made later? How did it affect the way they raised you? 3. What traumatic events directly affected your grandparents? How did each event affect them at th...

—BODY AND BREATH PRACTICE— Go to a quiet, comfortable place where you can be alone for about ten minutes. Sit down and take a few deep, slow breaths. Feel free to either close your eyes or leave them open. You are about to invite the presence of an ancestor. You don’t know who this will be. You also don’t know how he or she will appear—as an image, a memory, a sensation in your body, an emotion, or a flow of energy. All you know is that this person lived at least three generations before you and died before you were born. They might be a great-grandparent or an ancestor from the distant past. You do not get to choose who this person will be; he or she will choose you. Just sit quietly, following your breathing, and invite this unknown person into your presence. Don’t plan to converse or interact with this ancestor. Don’t try to identify or figure out anything about him or her. Simply observe this person’s presence and notice how your body responds. If your ancestor doesn’t appear quickly, that’s fine. Just continue sitting and breathing. Give the person up to five minutes to make an appearance. If he or she appears as an image, what does he or she look like? Is the person female or male? How old does he or she appear to be? What is he or she wearing? What expression is on his or her face? Does your ancestor seem safe and settled? Happy? Fearful? Distressed? If your ancestor is moving, what is he or she doing? Is the person alone, or with a companion? Whether your ancestor ...

—BODY PRACTICE— For now, find a quiet, comfortable place where you can be alone for ten to fifteen minutes. Once you’re settled, take a deep breath. Then consider the following questions: When were your ancestors first declared Black or white (or Asian, or American Indian, or something else)? Who determined this? How was that determination communicated to your ancestors? Where did this happen? What were the surrounding circumstances? How did this categorization change your ancestors’ immediate situation? How did it change their future? How is your body responding to these questions? Where do you experience resistance or constriction? Where do you sense a recognition or affirmation? Do these questions seem insightful and important, or stupid and pointless? Do you want to laugh, or cry, or cuss, or run away? RE-MEMBERINGS • Trauma was not invented in 1619. For thousands of years before that, human beings murdered, butchered, tortured, oppressed, abused, conquered, enslaved, and colonized one another. • By the late 1600s the English controlled nearly all the colonized territory in what would become the United States. In England, the 1500s and 1600s were not gentle times. People were routinely burned at the stake, tortured, hung, and otherwise brutalized. • Many of the English who fled to America were victims or first-hand observers of this brutality. Others were desperately trying to get away from poverty, starvation, overcrowding, and the Great Plague. • It seems likely ...

—BODY PRACTICE— As before, find a quiet, comfortable place where you can be alone. Allow five to ten minutes for each of the following four activities. Feel free to do them on separate occasions, all at once, or in any combination. 1. Think back to an incident in which you felt you were the target of a micro-aggression. The incident does not need to involve race (or people of more than one race). Any mild, passive-aggressive move qualifies as a micro-aggression. Replay this incident in your mind from beginning to end. When and how did the event turn ugly (if it did)? When and how did you recognize it as a micro-aggression? Now replay the event again. This time, focus on your body and its reactions. At what point does it tell you that something is wrong? How does it let you know this? When, where, and how does it experience pain or discomfort? Where, when, and how does it feel good? Constrict? Move or activate? Release? 2. Recall an incident in which you committed a micro-aggression against someone else, either deliberately or unconsciously. Again, it does not need to involve race. Any mild passive-aggressiveness counts as a micro-aggression. Replay the incident in your mind from beginning to end. What did you say, do, and observe? What did the other person (or people) say and do? At what point did you plan the micro-aggression, or realize that you had already committed one? Now relive the entire incident again, paying close attention to your body. When, where, and how do...

—BODY PRACTICE— Find a comfortable, quiet spot where you can be alone for about ten minutes. Think back to a recent time when you overheard a Black man or woman denigrating another Black person for their Blackness, or for their ostensibly Black behavior. Think of a monologue, discussion, or argument, not just the offhand use of a derogatory term. Recall where you were when this event took place. Then imagine yourself back in that place and replay the incident from beginning to end, paying close attention to your body. At each moment, what does your body experience? When, where, and how does it experience pain or discomfort? Where, when, and how does it feel good? Constrict? Relax? Want to move or activate? At any point, do you have the urge to speak up, interrupt, or step in? How does your body experience this urge? How do you respond to it? Do you do something, or do you override the urge? What does your body experience when the incident is over? Trauma

Race is a myth, but a myth with teeth and claws. Institutions, structures, beliefs, and narratives have been created around it. Until we recognize it for the collective delusion it is, it might as well be real.

“Indeed, in America there is a strange and powerful belief that if you stab a black person ten times, the bleeding stops and the healing begins the moment the assailant drops the knife.” TA-NEHISI COATES

I want you to be safe. I want to not have to watch you every weekday morning, to make sure you’re okay, until you climb onto the school bus. I want to trust our police instead of fear them. I want you to be able to play in a public park and not have someone put a bullet in your body. I want you to live to be a man, not end up like Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, and Emmett Till.

the great majority of immigrants—even many of those fleeing persecution, tyranny, or war—made the choice to come to America. They were allowed to keep their languages, their religions, their origin stories, and their symbols. Up to a point, they were permitted to keep their cultures. Although not all were allowed to keep their own names, they all maintained the right to name their children. In contrast, our African American ancestors were kidnapped, sold as property, transplanted here as cargo against their will, given new names and identities, and often not permitted to name or raise their own children. They were severed from their families, their communities, and their own bodies.

“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.

White fragility is thus a reflexive, protective response—a way for the white body to avoid experiencing the pain and discomfort of its trauma. It is a classic form of dirty pain.

American police are not an alien race. The great majority of them come from the same traumatized groups I described in earlier chapters. But they don’t just live with the typical intergenerational trauma. They also work in a field that regularly requires them to witness other people’s trauma and tragedy—and, as a result, to experience their own secondary trauma or vicarious trauma.

Unfortunately, most law enforcement professionals are not trained in how to discharge the excess energy that remains in their bodies after a traumatic event.51 Nor, typically, is there organizational infrastructure in place to support their self-care and healing. As a result, many police live with the biochemicals of chronic stress in their bloodstreams.

from the viewpoint of neighborhood residents, the police are the foreign bodies, brought in from the outside as an occupying force. This arrangement does not build trust. Instead, it tends to create mutual fear and suspicion.

There was a time when police were called peace officers, because their job was to keep the peace, at least in some communities. But it’s hard to keep the peace when your own body is constricted, unsettled, stressed, and traumatized.

In some ways, police culture has got things exactly backward. White-body supremacy and fragility have charged our law enforcement professionals with managing Black bodies, when what many public safety professionals need most is to learn to manage their own bodies.

Trauma is anything the body perceives as too much, too fast, or too soon. Whenever trauma is involved, the first step in mending any relationship—or any emotional dysregulation—involves working through that trauma. And in order for someone to do that trauma work, he or she must ...

A settled body helps the other bodies it encounters to settle as well. This is why a calm, settled presence matters so much whenever we’re around other bodies—in a partne...

—BODY AND BREATH PRACTICES— Find a quiet, comfortable place where you can reflect privately for ten to fifteen minutes. Bring pen and paper—or a laptop or tablet—with you. Think back to a time when you personally witnessed the apprehension or arrest of a Black body. This should not be something from television, film, YouTube, or the Internet; it should be a real-life incident in which your body was present. As best you can, recollect and re-experience that incident as completely as you can from beginning to end. Pay attention—moment by moment—to what you felt in your body and what thoughts and emotions you experienced. Write down each of those physical, emotional, and mental responses in as much detail as you can, including where in your body you felt it, whether it was pleasant or unpleasant, and whether it involved constriction or opening. Clear your mind and take ten deep, slow breaths. Return to the here and now. Reorient yourself by looking around, including behind you. Now, as best you can, recollect and re-experience the last time you witnessed, in person, the apprehension or arrest of a white body. As before, pay close attention to what you felt in your body in each moment, and to what thoughts and emotions you experienced. Once again, write these down in as much detail as you can. Clear your mind with ten more long, slow breaths. Now compare the two written accounts. Are they quite similar, or do they differ? If they differ, write down how they differ. How might y...

“If you don’t understand yourself, you don’t know anybody else.” NIKKI GIOVANNI

“Health is not simply the absence of illness. Real health is the will to overcome every form of adversity and use even the worst of circumstances as a springboard for new growth and development. Simply put, the essence of health is the constant renewal and rejuvenation of life.” DAISAKU IKEDA

Your body, of course, does not give a damn whether a practice is ancient or modern, secular or religious, proven or unproven. It just wants to experience safety and security.

HUMMING Focus your attention on the center of your belly, behind your navel. Breathe in and out, deeply and slowly, a few times. Feel your belly pull the air all the way down into it. On the fourth or fifth exhalation, hum a low, even tone. Inhale naturally and repeat this a few times, varying your pitch with each new exhalation. Do this for two or three minutes. Then stop and notice what your body experiences afterward. What has changed from before you started humming? What has stayed the same? What sensations, thoughts, and images are arising? What does your body want to do now? Does it want to move? Hum some more? Run and hide? Fight? Without doing anything else, just notice whatever your body is experiencing right now. Alternative: pick a song with a simple melody that feels comforting to your body. It can be anything—a hymn, a gospel tune, a lullaby, a military march, a punk rock song. Hum it all the way through from beginning to end from your belly. When you’re done, stop and pay attention to your body. Feel free to experiment with a variety of tunes.

BELLY BREATHING Focus your attention on the center of your belly, behind your navel. Breathe in and out, deeply and slowly, a few times. Pull the air all the way down into your belly. Keep breathing, deeply and slowly. Follow your breath as it flows in through your nose, down your throat, into and through your lungs, and into your belly. Keep following it as it flows back out again. (You won’t actually pull air into your belly, of course, but it will feel that way.) Continue breathing this way for four to five minutes. Stop and notice what you experience in your body.

BUZZING Get comfortable. Take a few deep, slow breaths. Focus your attention behind your navel. Relax your shoulders. Rest your tongue gently behind the top row of your teeth. Relax your jaw and let your mouth hang open. Breathe out slowly and firmly. As you exhale, make a buzzing sound, like a bee. Extend the buzz and the exhalation as long as you can without strain or discomfort. Repeat for two to three minutes. Then stop and notice what you experience in your body. Experiment with different tones, volumes, and vibrations until you find some that feel the most comfortable.

SLOW ROCKING Get comfortable and take a few slow, deep breaths. Then, slowly rock your upper body from side to side, or forward and back. If you like, play or hum a slow, soothing tune and rock to its beat. Feel free to experiment with standing versus sitting; with rocking side to side versus forward and back; with a range of different (but always slow) speeds; and with sitting in a variety of seats and positions. Discover what feels best to your body. When you are done, stop and notice what your body is experiencing. Alternative: Keep your body still, but let your head and neck rock slowly from side to side.

RUBBING YOUR BELLY Get comfortable and take a few deep breaths. Let your shoulders relax. Place your palm on the center of your belly, just above your navel. Press in gently. Hold your hand in place for a moment or two. Then, slowly rub your belly for three to four minutes, in whatever way feels good to your body. When you’re done, pay attention to all the sensations in your body. You can do this with or without clothes, but remove any heavy outerwear. Alternative 1: Rub the center of your breastbone. Alternative 2: Rub your solar plexus—your center of gravity, halfway between your breastbone and your navel.

20’s Get comfortable. Slowly rotate your foot at the ankle twenty times in either direction. If you like, move it in one direction; pause for ten seconds; then rotate it in the opposite direction. Do this with each ankle, one at a time, pausing for ten seconds in between each set of rotations. Then do the same for each knee; for your hips; for each wrist; for each elbow; and for each shoulder. Pause for ten seconds after each set of rotations. Sometimes trauma energy can get stuck in the joints. These rotations help to release that energy.

OM-ING The vibration of the word om (or aum) has a uniquely powerful settling effect on the human body. Get comfortable and take a few deep breaths. Let your shoulders relax. Breathe in slowly and deeply. As you exhale, for the full duration of your exhalation, very slowly utter the word om. It will sound and feel more like ohhhhhh-ummmmmm-muhhhhh. Pay attention to how your body vibrates to the sounds. Then breathe in and begin again. Do this for ten long, slow exhalations.

SINGING ALOUD TO YOURSELF Sing a slow, soothing song to yourself—perhaps a lullaby or a gospel tune—as you work, walk, drive, or exercise. Afterward, notice what your body experiences.

CHANTING Chanting usually involves repeating a word, phrase, or line over and over. Most chants contain a mantra, a prayer, a song, or a scripture passage. However, chanting appears to have a settling effect on the body no matter what you chant.

BREATHE, GROUND, AND RESOURCE Take a few deep breaths. Let your body relax as much as it wants to. Think of a person, an animal, or a place that makes you feel safe and secure. Then imagine that, right now, this person or animal is beside you, or that you are in that safe place. Breathing naturally, simply let yourself experience that safety and security for one to two minutes. Afterward, notice how and what you experience in your body. Slowly look around, including directly behind you, and locate yourself in the here and now. You can do this standing, sitting, or lying down, with your eyes either open or closed.

TOUCHING YOUR DISCOMFORT This final activity is an especially helpful way of teaching your body to settle during times of stress or difficulty. Think of a moderately painful but not traumatic incident from your past. Then, for five seconds—no longer, at first—focus your attention on a painful aspect of that incident. As you do, notice all the sensations in your body. Also notice what thoughts, images, and emotions arise—without responding to them in any way. Without disengaging from that incident or from your body, practice breathing, grounding, and resourcing (from the activity above). Feel your body as it relaxes and settles. Then let go of the incident from your past. Return to the here and now. If a part of your body feels sore, or tight, or strange in some way, simply put your hand on it and support it for a few seconds. Practice this activity every day or two. Over time, slowly increase how long you stay with the painful memory, until you are able to relax and settle while experiencing it for a minute or more.

The soul nerve is not just where we experience our emotions. It’s also where we feel a sense of belonging. This is why we can think of it as both a bodily organ and a communal one. More than almost anything else, each of us yearns to belong. Within each human body is this deep, raw, aching desire. Here is what makes white-body supremacy so pervasive and so intractable: Beneath all the exclusion and constriction and trauma, white-body supremacy offers the white body a sense of belonging. It provides a false sense of brotherhood and sisterhood, of being a part of something intrinsically valuable. A variety of organizations, from the Ku Klux Klan to the NRA, have capitalized on this, offering quasi-community, a manufactured history, respected elders, cohesive symbolism, rules of admonishment, an internally coherent (though toxic) worldview, and so on. White-body supremacy partly soothes white bodies in this way. But white-body supremacy also reflexively triggers the historical trauma embedded in those bodies. African American bodies also feel a sense of belonging, of course. Ours, however, has its roots in necessity and an actual shared history. American police have their own sense...

Although they don’t always realize it, people visit my office to be with my settled, regulated nervous system. At first, clients come in with dysregulated nervous systems. Over time, their repeated contact with my nervous system helps their nervous systems settle. This does not happen through a process of mirroring, or cognitive training, or verbal communication. What takes place is energetic, chemical, biological—a synching of vibrations and energies. My nervous system does not model the way; over time, it helps other nervous systems access the same infinite source that mine does. My settled nervous system isn’t an accident of birth. It’s partly the result of my training, my education, my experience, and my longstanding and mindful self-care.

BREATHE, GROUND, AND RESOURCE, REVISITED This is a new way to use an activity you practiced in Chapters 2 and 10. Take a few deep breaths. Let your body relax as much as it wants to. Think of a person, an animal, or a place that makes you feel safe and secure. Now imagine that this person or animal is beside you right now or that you are in that safe place. Breathing naturally, let yourself experience that safety and security for about a minute. Feel into your body. Where does it seem constricted, uncomfortable, or unwell in any way? Note each of these locations. Pick one of these locations and focus on it. For a few seconds, let yourself fully experience the constriction or discomfort. Then, once again, visualize the person, animal, or place that helps you feel safe and secure. Imagine you are in that place or that the person or animal is beside you. Experience the safety and security for a minute or two. Do this for each part of your body that feels uncomfortable or constricted.

COMING INTO THE ROOM Sit comfortably in a chair. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Imagine you’re floating in space. Below you, planet Earth turns slowly. Watch it turn for a few seconds. Slowly descend until the part of the country you’re in fills your field of vision. Stay directly above it, like a GPS satellite, so that it doesn’t move beneath you. Keep descending until you’re looking down on whatever city, town, mountain, valley, or other area your body is sitting in right now. Continue your descent until you’re looking down at the top of the building you’re in. If you’re seated outdoors, descend far enough so that you can see your own body below, as if you’re viewing it from a helicopter. Keep dropping slowly and steadily, until you can see your body in detail, as if you’re about ten feet above it. Observe your body’s posture, any movements it makes, and the clothing it’s wearing. Slowly and smoothly, descend the rest of the way, and slip inside your body. For a few breaths, simply be aware of being in your body. Relax and let the chair support you. Then notice the sensation of the chair against your legs and thighs. Then notice how it feels against your back. Open your eyes. Orient yourself by looking around you, including behind you. Return to the here and now.

BODY SCAN Sit comfortably in a chair. Take a few breaths, feeling the air move in and out of your body. Close your eyes. Notice the experience of the chair against your back. Notice the sensation of your feet on the ground. Starting with the top of your head, slowly scan your body from top to bottom. Pay attention to each part as you slowly move your attention downward. Notice where there is pain or discomfort, where there is constriction, and where there is relaxation or expansiveness. First move slowly down your forehead, then through your face, then down your neck. Follow your attention as it moves across the top of your shoulders and onto your shoulder blades, then down your torso and into and down your arms. Continue to descend down your torso and arms, through your hips and buttocks, and into your hands. Experience your attention spreading into your fingers and then out your fingertips. Continue moving down your legs, through your knees, and down to your ankles. Pay attention to your major joints—your ankles, knees, hips, wrists, elbows, and shoulders. These are spots where energy often gets blocked. (If you feel the urge to move any of these, feel free to do so.) Follow your attention into your feet, then down into your toes, then into the bottoms of your feet. Take a moment to notice where your soles meet the ground. For a pleasant and effective variation of this body scan, practice it standing in the shower, as you let the water surround and cleanse you.