Movement as Language

Movement & Dance in Clinical Practice (Part 2): Rethinking Embodiment, Agency & Sustainability

In the first article of this series, we explored regulation as something we feel and experience — rather than a concept that is as familiar as the benefits of yoga and meditation – even if we've never meditated a day in our lives.

When we are in a mindful state of regulation, even if the therapy room has been slightly charged, we can let our breath settle, feel our weight meeting the floor, and sense a tangible shift in the air.

From there, we can see a deeper layer emerge.

Because even when we are sitting still, we are moving.

A client speaks about feeling "small," and we see their shoulders narrow almost imperceptibly.

Someone describes conflict and leans forward, their breath getting shorter.

Another recounts shame and their head drops, their gaze lowering.

These details are as important as what's being said.

And we know that even in silence, there are many unspoken messages.

They are the conversation.

Before language, there was movement. We would reach out. We would recoil or stiffen in fear. We would visibly soften.

Photo by İrena Kırcalı

Those early relational strategies are still there even now we have language and a new narrative for deeper understanding. If anything, we can sometimes hide behind language and words.

What we see, feel and experience is its own language.

Often these physiological actions are subtle, refined even.  And gradually, without even being aware of it, they become habit.

Over time, habit becomes identity.

"I'm just not assertive."

"I always hold back."

"I push too hard."

You can hear the movement inside those sentences.

This is where embodied cognition becomes more than theory. Our body and brain are in a constant two-way dialogue. Just as our brain can send lightning-fast signals to our body to take action, sensory feedback from our muscles, breath, our proprioception and orientation continuously inform and influence our perception of what's happening in the world.

Let's begin with movement in its most subtle expression. Take for example our posture.

Photo by Katerina May on Unsplash

When someone sits collapsed forward while speaking about boundaries, we can sense that they might not have the strongest of boundaries – their nervous system is receiving signals of contraction.

If, however, they start to lengthen their spine rather than contract and we notice them planting their feet firmly on the floor, something in the sensory field has changed. Their voice may also become clearer, more resonant.

The shift may be subtle.

Perhaps the person sounds more certain, even if their words are the same.

And having this embodied awareness is not just in the therapy room.

The same is true of effective leaders.

People listen not only to content, but to physiology. A leader who speaks with grounded breath, aligned posture, and calm measured movement communicates stability.

A leader whose body is tense, hunched over, or continually fidgeting sends out a different message — no matter how articulate they are.

Gaining trust is somatic.

The art of listening is somatic.

Photo by Anastasiya Badun on Unsplash

Authority, at its healthiest, is a grounded somatic experience.

Movement awareness, then, is not necessarily about adding flamboyant expression, or gesticulating wildly in speech. It can be about congruence. About how what is being said is also embodied and if there is alignment.

In clinical work, this can be simple.

Noticing when there is a weight shift.

Inviting a client to feel the edges of their body while speaking about a boundary.

Pausing long enough for the breath to return, after an emotional moment.

It could also, on occasion, mean allowing a slightly larger exploration — for example standing instead of sitting to shift the energy.

Widening a stance to change direction or expand the range of possibility.

Or in fact experimenting with being still, especially if the client is moving a lot.

Many clients may cognitively understand their patterns. However, what they may lack is being able to feel movement within that – allow in flexibility.

The body defaults to its habitual ways, before the mind has even had a chance to get in on the act.

When movement range widens, even gently, new perspective often follows.

Agency begins as sensation. The finest shifts before moving into more decisive action.

A shift of weight.

A deeper breath.

A decision to remain rather than retreat.

Thus, movement has always been part of the therapeutic experience (or should I point out the obvious – that it is a part of our human experience). We are simply learning to recognise it as a sophisticated language.

Photo by Alex Green

In the next article, we will go a little deeper into movement — exploring how dance-informed practice becomes a rehearsal for life agency itself, and how our embodied choice strengthens our self-leadership both inside and beyond the therapy room.

Reference

Shapiro, L. (2019). Embodied Cognition. London: Routledge.

Main – Photo by Lucas Pezeta