Allowing the Shifts

As a therapist, one of the most helpful things I've learned is that we naturally move through cycles. In Somatic Experiencing, this is often described as moving between the trauma vortex and the counter vortex, or simply, contraction and expansion.

The trauma vortex is where pain, overwhelm, and survival tend to live. The counter vortex is where we find safety, connection, joy, and our resources. Before I found Somatic Experiencing in 2016, I moved between these states without much awareness. As I learned to track my experience, I became really good at recognizing when I was entering contraction. I could spot stress almost immediately. What I wasn't as good at was noticing when I was feeling resourced. I didn't savor those moments or let them fully land.

Over time, something else changed. I realized that noticing contraction often came with fear. I'd immediately wonder what was wrong or how to get out of it. Ironically, that reaction often kept me there longer.

Now, after years of training and my own therapy, I notice these shifts with much more curiosity. I don't always need to know why I'm activated. Sometimes I simply notice it and ask myself what I might need.

That happened recently when my husband suggested we go to the fair. I immediately noticed more activation in my body and realized I was probably depleted. Instead of pushing through, I planned for what I needed. We ate dinner there instead of cooking, had a slow morning beforehand, and kept the following day completely open.

At the top of the Ferris wheel, I noticed I felt a little nervous, which isn't typical for me. Rather than fighting it, I looked at the soft curls on my son's head blowing in the wind. I remembered us laughing together on the rides, holding hands, and squeezing into the photo booth. As I took those moments in, I could feel my body exhale. The contraction softened just enough to make room for something else.

I don't shame myself for these experiences anymore. I've learned they're usually information, not failure. Maybe they're telling me I need more rest. Maybe my brain is making an old prediction based on something outside my awareness. Either way, I've found that compassion moves me through those moments much more gently than self-criticism ever could.

For me, healing isn't about never entering the trauma vortex. It's about trusting that I can find my way back, one small moment of awareness and self-compassion at a time.