Safety as a State of Being

why our nervous system can’t always hear our minds

Consciously we hope to tell our nervous systems that we are safe, it is okay to stand down. However, unconsciously our bodies are telling a different story.
We speak of safety, we think it can be attained through willpower and corrective talk therapy—but our nervous system doesn’t always agree.

Consciously, we hope to tell our nervous systems that we are safe, that it is okay to stand down. However, unconsciously, our bodies are telling a different story.

In the quiet places beneath awareness, our bodies remembers what words have not yet reached the flicker of threat, the tightening of muscles, the breath held hostage by old fears. Safety is not a thought we summon, but a state that must be felt,
like a soft tide that slowly washes away the hard edges of vigilance.

It is in the gentle unfolding of breath, the settling of the shoulders,
the tender permission to simply be. That is when the nervous system begins to learn a new language.

Not one of logic or persuasion, but one written in the slow, sacred rhythms of presence and kindness.

For those of us carrying trauma, safety may feel unfamiliar,
a fragile guest we invite inside with cautious hope.
It may arrive not as relief, but as discomfort because stillness can feel strange,
and peace may whisper instead of shout.

So we offer ourselves patience.
We come home to the body with soft curiosity and gentle touch.
We practice small acts of kindness to ourselves through slow breaths, mindful pauses, grounding sensations. Rather than trying to force, we create space where healing can quietly grow.

Because the body holds the blueprint for safety.
Not in words or promises, but in felt experience.
In moments that say, “You are here. You are enough. You are safe.” without having to use words.

A gentle invitation:
Today, can you pause for a breath?
Notice the rise and fall of your chest or belly—slow, steady, unhurried.
See if you can find one small place where your body feels soft,
even just for a moment.
Allow yourself the grace to return to that softness whenever you need.