Body Loyalty

Seeking Quiet in a Noisy World

I have a physical panic response to every notification I get. Too many years of being an opinionated woman on the internet has taught my nervous system that a little ping means I’m about to be attacked. I turn off notifications where I can, I never answer my phone, but I still have to exist in the world, and this is a world that is trying to claim your time and attention in any way it can.

Our time is so rarely our own, someone always needs something from us, and content screams at us from screens so ubiquitous you can’t even gather your thoughts while pumping gas. In this environment, telling people to seek quiet can sound like a prank. But that is why it is so very important. Seeking quiet is about reclaiming your humanity.

Your body has needs. All human bodies have needs. It is an ironclad part of the contract. Your body is telling you what it needs, if you can learn to hear it. It speaks to you through sensation – a hunger pain when it needs food, a shiver when it needs warmth, pleasure and joy from sensory experiences. You can speak back to it by meeting those needs. The first step is learning what they are, but you need to create some quiet to listen.

The aim of bringing Quiet into your life is to meet your body’s needs for restoration and recovery. The practices that will help you do this – the Muscles as we call them in Body Loyalty – are Rest and Breath. Rest to restore, Breath to be in touch enough with your body to know what it needs.

What this looks like will be specific for you. For some people, exercise can be restful. (I wouldn’t know, I just have to believe them when they talk about it.) Hobbies can be restful. And of course, sleep. Any way, any time, any place. A practice of Breath is anything that helps you engage your parasympathetic nervous system and tap into body sensations – breathwork, obviously, but also singing, calming breaths, yoga, somatic therapies, etc.

I had to work really hard at this. I was so cut off from my feelings and sensations that when I started I felt like I was meeting a stranger. All those skills had been dulled from years of neglect and I needed to begin at the beginning. I remember one session my therapist told me to buy myself a treat for lunch as a treat for my inner child, and I literally had no idea what food would be a pleasure to eat. I just drove home, shaken.

In learning about my own sensory needs, Atticus was the example for me, as always. Autistic folk, speaking extremely broadly, have a different experience with sensory inputs than allistic folk. Whereas dissociation turned all my sensory awareness down to zero, Atti’s autism turned his up to 11.

Certain sensory triggers would provoke intense meltdowns that could get scary for Atticus. I learned to pay attention to the sound of the air conditioner thumping off, the whine of the water cooler, someone singing Happy Birthday, so I could jump in and stop it before it hurt him. It was a real education and leap of empathy to understand how he was being impacted by these triggers. But along with sensory pain, I also got to see sensory euphoria. The stimulation he avoids can lead to a meltdown, and the stimulation he seeks can lead to abundant joy. So to help him recover from what it costs him to be out in the world I filled our house with the sensory experiences that bring him joy. Fuzzy blankets, dark rooms with lamps, music, cheerios to snack on, chilled out energy. As I watched the transcendent joy it brought him to have his sensory needs met, a lightbulb went off. Hey – I have senses too!

It took experimentation to learn what brought me some sensory pleasure, so I started with my failed assignment from my therapist. What food would feel good? I remembered the movie Runaway Bride and how she had to figure out what kind of eggs she preferred, so I did the very same thing. An egg taste test. My favorites turned out to be Jacques Pepin style scrambled eggs with fresh tomatoes.

That experiment led to the next, and the next, until I started discovering my preferences in all kinds of ways and could fill my home with those sensory experiences that brought me joy – sparkles hanging from every window, a ritual of coffee by the kitchen window every morning, a collection of loungewear so that I’m always comfortable at home.

It’s like I was getting to know a new friend. I approached with curiosity. I asked my body a question and waited for the answer. I fed it some sensory input and listened for the response. And it did.

It takes a lot of practice to learn to listen. There are enough distractions in this world that you never have to face your own thoughts if you don’t want to. But where’s the reward in that? That makes all of life busywork. Going through the motions and filling the paperwork until it’s time to shuffle off to whatever comes next. With a regular practice that creates some Quiet in your life, you can live your life with intention and appreciate the daily beauties that actually make this whole human experience worth it.