Most of us have experienced some form of trauma. If trauma is understood as something that happened to us without our consent, then nearly everyone has encountered it. Studies show that over 70 percent of people in the United States have experienced at least one major traumatic event.
Trauma can be individual, collective, or social. It may occur in personal experiences, such as the death of a loved one, divorce, or childhood abuse. It may also happen to entire communities, as with racism or natural disasters. The pandemic was a massive global trauma that affected everyone without choice, and we are still processing its effects.
Trauma can also be intergenerational, passed down through families and communities. Historical traumas such as genocide and racism can lead to epigenetic changes that affect how our genes are expressed, increasing susceptibility to certain diseases. Oppression, as bell hooks described, is the absence of choice. Understanding this connection between trauma and oppression helps us see why trauma-informed practices are essential, not only for individuals, but also for communities.
There are many different kinds of trauma: There are what we might call small “t” traumas and large “T” traumas, and both leave their mark. Neuroscience shows us that traumatic events can leave imprints in the body, altering brain function and disrupting the nervous system. These imprints can affect how we move through the world long after the event itself has passed. This is an important point to remember when considering the impact of trauma in our daily lives and in our bodies.
Traditional meditation often emphasizes stillness, closed eyes, and breath awareness. For some, these instructions may feel safe. For those carrying trauma, they can be destabilizing. Closing the eyes may trigger hypervigilance or fear. Focusing too closely on the breath can increase anxiety rather than bring calm. If the body has been a site of pain or danger, it may not feel safe to be fully present with it.
Sitting in meditation without attuning to the lingering effects of trauma can lead to dysregulation. Many people worry that they shouldn’t move or open their eyes while meditating, even when discomfort arises. They may feel compelled to push through anxiety, believing that being still is essential. But from a trauma-informed perspective, this approach can be counterproductive. We often think of trauma as an experience that happened in the past, but it’s something that may also overwhelm our ability to cope in the present moment.
Trauma can lead to two main types of dysregulation. Hyperarousal feels like agitation, restlessness, or the urge to flee, while hypoarousal brings numbness, collapse, or disconnection. Both are natural responses to overwhelming experiences. When we practice mindfulness without considering trauma, we may unintentionally trigger these states. Someone might become anxious when asked to close their eyes, sit perfectly still, or focus on breathing. This can lead to harm rather than healing.
From a trauma-informed perspective, mindfulness begins with choice. Since trauma can be defined as an experience we didn’t choose, the simple act of choosing—how we sit, breathe, or engage—can offer deep benefit. Trauma-informed practice invites people to explore their experience with options rather than rigid rules.
I learned the following four practices while training in mindful eating–conscious living with Jan Chozen Bays and Char Wilkins. Feel free to experiment with any or all of them, in whatever order you wish. If a practice doesn’t feel right, stop at any time. How you engage with the practices is your choice.
Practice One: Inscaping
If we’re feeling emotionally charged or dysregulated, it’s very common to be disassociated from the body or maybe stuck in our heads. “Inscaping” means coming back to the body.
Begin by finding a comfortable posture—upright but not rigid, alert but relaxed. Feel your feet touching the floor or cushion beneath you. Notice that physical sensation. I invite you to also note where your hands are. You can put your hands on your lap, or you can put one palm on top of the other.
Sometimes closing our eyes can be frightening if we have a history of trauma. So, gently close your eyes if that feels comfortable, or just keep them softly open, directing your gaze twelve inches or so in front of you.
Breathe according to the rhythm of your own body. Next, bring awareness to what you hear. Maybe it’s the sound of a bird or the whir of a fan. Simply notice.
When you’re ready, on your next inhale, I invite you to draw awareness to something you smell—it might be a drink, a flower, or simply the absence of smell, which is perfectly okay too.
On your next inhale, draw awareness to something you taste: the trace of toothpaste, something you drank, or just the natural state of the mouth.
On the next inhale, draw awareness to something you see. If you have your eyes closed, maybe you notice some color or shapes. Just notice what you notice.
Finally, on your next inhale, notice any physical sensation of touch, such as your feet on the floor, or your palms on your lap. From here, take a few more breaths and, when you’re ready, finish off the practice with a stretch or whatever you need to readjust your body.
Acknowledge what you noticed in the practice, and reflect upon how your awareness of individual senses is different from how you ordinarily pay attention; consider if paying attention in this way to sensation is something that may be useful.
I often introduce this practice as part of a series of trauma-informed mindfulness practices because trauma can lead us to want to escape from the body, our environment, or even our present moment experience. Focusing on the senses can be a wonderful opportunity to ground us back into our bodies and allow us to be present.
Inscaping is a way of orienting and anchoring ourselves in the present. By anchoring awareness in the senses, we expand our window of tolerance, our ability to be with difficult experiences. This practice reminds us that we are here, now, and that we have choices about how we engage with our experience. For example, I began the practice by inviting you to open or close your eyes, whichever feels better.
Choosing between eyes open and eyes closed might seem like a small decision to make, but research suggests that even small acts of agency can strengthen our capacity to make empowered choices for ourselves over time. Each intentional choice that we make supports our healing from trauma, cultivates resilience, and awakens the inner wisdom of our bodies.
Practice Two: Compassionate Touch
Since trauma is something that happened to us without our consent, and its effects continue to live in the body, it’s essential for us to be able to learn how to relate to the body in a safe, caring, and generous way. Compassionate touch meditation allows us to tune in to the wisdom of our own bodies, while finding safety and appreciation in them as well.
I invite you to sit comfortably or lie down—whichever position allows you to feel relaxed and alert. Find a posture where your spine is not too rigid, but also not slumped over. Close your eyes or keep a soft gaze. Take several deep, full breaths in and out.
I invite you to draw your attention to your hands. Maybe you rotate your hands so your palms are up, perhaps resting in your lap. Notice the sensation of whatever your hands are touching. Next, imagine that your hands are beginning to fill up with kindness, caring, and warmth.
When you’re ready, lift one hand and place it on the opposite arm as a kind of gentle, caring touch. Notice this sensation, your reaction, and the thoughts that may be passing through your mind.
Next, take your other hand and place it on the opposite arm as though you’re giving yourself a hug. Without judgment notice what this feels like and what’s going on in your mind.
Next, rub your hands together to create warmth, and then gently cup them over your eyes. Allow your eyes to rest in this caring gesture. Maybe you notice the heat or what it’s like to allow your eyes to rest.
After that, move your hands to your thighs, allowing them to rest. Invite tenderness toward any feelings that may arise. Then place your hands on your abdomen, noticing the natural movement of your abdomen as you breathe. Continue to feel the kindness from your hands.
Finally, place one or both hands over your heart, being aware of the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. Feel the caring quality of your heart, allow it to come through your hands, and allow all thoughts to come and go, coming back to a sense of tenderness and care.
In the last moments of this practice, your hands may rest where they are, or if there is another part of your body that could use a tender, caring touch, feel free to move your hands there, allowing yourself to rest in warmth and kindness.
Reflect on what you noticed during this practice. How is it different from how you usually pay attention to your body? Could this form of attention be useful for you—or not? The “or not” is important. Not every practice works for everyone every time. If this practice felt dysregulating, it may not be right for you today, and that’s okay. Trauma-informed mindfulness always includes the option to stop, adjust, or return later.
Compassionate touch can shift the nervous system from fight-or-flight to rest-and-digest. Physical sensation becomes a calming focus. In meditation, emphasis is often placed on maintaining a particular posture, but from a trauma-informed perspective, we’re not working toward forcing ourselves through discomfort. Rather, we’re learning how to rest and relax, and that may involve moving the body.
For many of us who experience microaggressions or other forms of oppression, our bodies might be on heightened alert all the time. The compassionate touch meditation can be powerful because the physical sensation of touch actually releases a sense of relaxation. We can’t control the external world or our experience of microaggressions or explicit oppression, but a trauma-informed mindfulness practice can teach us how to rest in between those states, and that is something that is going to have not only an emotional benefit, but also a physiological benefit as we learn to downregulate the nervous system.
Practice Three: Connecting Emotions to Physical Sensations
The practice of connecting emotions to physical sensations in the body is meant to help increase interoceptive awareness—our ability to sense internal states. Trauma can disconnect us from the body, making it hard to recognize and interpret the sensations we’re experiencing; many studies have shown that there can be a certain numbness or disorientation toward our own bodies due to trauma.
Our bodies have a wisdom that is different but not separate from our minds. Linking emotions to physical sensations can help us understand when we’re connecting and when we’re disconnecting from our bodies. Every emotion has a chemical reaction in the body, and it’s helpful to bring nonjudgmental attention to this, so we can take better care of ourselves. This is a practice that can help us cultivate more body awareness and also an awareness of the connection between emotions and physical sensations in the body.
Once again, take a position on your chair or your cushion that feels comfortable and allows you to feel both alert and relaxed with your spine upright, but not too rigid. You’re welcome to close your eyes if that feels good, or softly gaze at the floor twelve inches or so in front of you. Breathe according to the rhythm of your own body.
I invite you to bring to mind a mild moment of anger—the “five-pound anger,” not the five-hundred-pound anger. Maybe you were standing in line or on hold on the phone for too long. Maybe you were cut off in traffic, or arguing with somebody. Visualize, see, maybe even hear that memory clearly, as if it were happening now. Notice where you feel anger in your body. Some people feel heat in the chest, tightening in the jaw, or constriction in the throat. Release that image and feeling, and draw awareness back to your breath.
Next, I invite you to recall a sad moment. Maybe you lost something valuable to you or there’s a particular world event causing you sadness. Maybe a friend is ill or an animal is hurt. Notice where you feel sadness physically. Perhaps you experience heaviness in the chest, slumped shoulders, tingling in the face, or a downward pull. Then let that situation go and draw attention back to your breath.
For the last part of this exercise, I invite you to bring to mind a situation in which you felt joy. Maybe it was watching a child play. Maybe you were with your pet, or in a beautiful place in nature, or looking into the eyes of a beloved. Bring yourself into that moment, visualizing and feeling that moment of joy. Where in your body do you feel joy? You might notice physical sensations of lightness, openness, buzzing energy, or expansion.
Finish by returning to the breath and, if they’re closed, gently opening your eyes. Reflect on what you observed. What did you notice and how is this different from how you ordinarily pay attention to your body? How might paying attention to your body in this way be useful? (Or would it? Not every practice is going to feel beneficial, in which case you don’t have to do it.)
I’ve found this practice beneficial because sometimes in everyday life it’s easier to identify a physical sensation before being conscious of the emotion behind it. If I’m noticing tightness in my chest, I might not even be aware I’m having an emotional response or being triggered. Recognizing what’s happening in my body physically can be an incredible support. Physical responses are important data points because they can show us things about our emotional life when our minds can’t quite rationally figure out what’s going on.
Oftentimes our minds might want to bypass what’s happening in our bodies, but this practice encourages us to cultivate awareness of the felt sensation of the body and to learn to trust what’s going on with it. Sometimes the body knows what the mind cannot yet name.
Practice Four: 5-7-8 Breathing
The fourth and final practice, called 5-7-8 breathing, is portable—something we can do anywhere, anytime, especially when we are feeling agitated. It does not require closing the eyes or special preparation. This practice is beneficial because it takes us out of our habitual reactivity or habit loops in unpleasant situations.
It’s also a practice that can help turn on our parasympathetic nervous system, which allows us to relax and rest if we’re feeling emotionally charged or elevated, or outside our window of tolerance. Furthermore, 5-7-8 breathing can be helpful in moments of intense craving for something, whether it’s a mental attachment to something you feel you must have or something you don’t really want to have but can’t seem to let go of.
To begin, breathe in for a count of five while silently counting to yourself (maybe you even visualize each number). Then, hold that breath for a count of seven, again focusing on each number. The last part of this is a slow, steady, and even exhale for a count of eight. You’ll notice that the exhale is longer than the inhale, and that’s because the exhalation is what kicks in the parasympathetic nervous system.
Feel free to do a few rounds of this. But please remember that you’re not counting seconds, that is, you’re not trying to breathe in for five seconds, hold for seven seconds, and exhale for eight seconds. Sometimes if we do that, we can run out of breath, which doesn’t feel good. So, count and breathe at a pace that feels natural to you.
Mindfulness is often suggested as a way to heal and address our anxiety, but if we’re not careful, we can actually retraumatize ourselves with the practice. A trauma-informed lens is one that recognizes that trauma does exist and that it exists both from an individual experience and a collective experience.
Trauma can make the body feel like an unsafe place. Through trauma-informed mindfulness, we gradually reclaim it. Grounding through the senses is a wonderful way to anchor ourselves back in our body without necessarily focusing on the breath. Every decision—to open or close the eyes, to move or be still, to focus on touch instead of breath—is an act of healing. Choice-making expands our window of tolerance and strengthens our capacity to be with difficult experiences.
We cannot control the external world or prevent all harm. Yet we can rest between challenges. We can return to the body not as a site of fear, but as a place of safety, compassion, and liberation.
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