Trauma-Sensitive Yoga
In early 2019, I went to a trauma-sensitive yoga training. I had gotten certified as a vinyasa yoga teacher the previous year, and this unaffiliated workshop was just for fun. The weekend was non-comprehensive; only a taste of the Trauma Center’s 300-hour training one would need to properly lead classes.
This type of yoga was not what I was teaching for the Yoga Club or the UC Davis recreational center. Trauma-sensitive yoga (TSY) is a distinct method, informed by various aspects of neuroscience and trauma theory, that uses a specific style of language.
I learned so much of value during this training. We discussed Bessel van der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score and how traumatic experiences can affect and be expressed through the body. We talked about the tremendous power of connecting to one’s sense of agency through intentional breath and movement, and covered the basics of leading TSY classes.
Trauma-sensitive yoga is a truly beautiful practice. Although, using the word beautiful during a TSY class would not have been recommended. The emphasis is never on the way a pose looks, or whether the student is doing it “correctly.” Instead, the focus is on each student’s internal felt experience.
The point is to guide classes without judgmental language, in a way that gives students as much agency as possible. Rather than instructing one particular sequence of poses, teachers provide a series of options for students to choose from. The class may end up looking very different from one student to the next. Instead of telling people where to put parts of their bodies on the mat to get to a certain pose, the teacher would use phrases like “you can experiment with moving your arms like X” or “it might feel interesting to do Y” and “you could notice what it feels like to do Z.”
When done well, these classes feel relieving, gentle, and kind. They have consistently shown to be incredibly helpful for working with complex trauma.
People who have experienced trauma are often disconnected from aspects of their bodies, emotions, or selves. Since trauma is out of one’s personal control, and was not chosen, the healing process may include reconnecting to the ability to choose. Learning that you can make a different choice with your body, or make any choice at all, can expand your sense of freedom and autonomy.
TSY made a lot of intuitive sense and felt revolutionary to me. Around this time, I was obsessed with agency and choices and making empowered decisions. Learning TSY showed me that I had so much more autonomy than I had thought. I began to see more things as optional, and started questioning why I was saying yes or no. I experimented with believing that I could choose for myself, based on how I felt. This exploration increased my ability to feel what was happening in my body and hear my own intuition more clearly.
I stand firmly behind trauma-sensitive yoga as a means to treat trauma. The story of how I began applying some of its principles out of context and to an extreme degree is entirely separate from TSY. This reflection follows how my own fearful self-censorship maps onto the broader cultural hypervigilance around language.
A little too much, a little too far.
At this point in my life, I was much too fixated on what other people thought of me. I was seeking control and wanted to be perfect at everything. My mind jumped on the opportunity to perfect my language using the principles of trauma-sensitive yoga. If I spoke in this way, I thought, I could heal completely and be self-empowered while never making anyone upset.
I became very dedicated to speaking as trauma-sensitively as possible. I thought that since I don’t really know what anyone has experienced, I should talk like this to everyone, all the time. I decided to not use the words ‘good’ or ‘bad’ anymore, and to make sure that I was not ever telling people what I thought they should do. No opinions or advice or indications of judgment. I wanted everyone to choose for themselves, in every moment, without my influence.
My language became stilted and strange. I was nervous, afraid to offend people or accidentally insinuate that I felt superior in any way or knew better then they did. I wanted to make sure that everyone I spoke to felt like we were on an even playing field. I needed to constantly “level” the power dynamics, as I’d been taught, by stripping my words of my personal flavor. I eventually realized that assuming that there were uneven power dynamics in every situation is actually arrogant, alienating, and supremely unhelpful — entirely the opposite of what I thought I was doing.
I may as well have not been saying anything at all. Despite all of my work to “become my authentic self,” I wasn’t allowing that self to speak up very often.
This chapter did not last long, as it was a very stressful and unsustainable way to live. I came to the awareness that what I was trying and failing to do by carefully monitoring my language was actually disrespectful to whomever I was speaking to. By attempting to never trigger anyone, I was not respecting that the other could actually think for themselves and be ok. Paradoxically, striving to make sure that I was not “telling anyone what to do” communicated subtly that I didn’t trust that they could make their own empowered decisions, regardless of what I said. I abandoned my self-imposed speech rules and started behaving normally again.
Permission to speak freely.
Although this is a rather specific story, I have watched this sort of self-censoring dynamic play out all over the place. In an effort to be inclusive, or socially or politically correct, many people end up stifling their voices, afraid to say the wrong thing. This can happen to anyone.
As Africa Brooke, a brilliant writer and international speaker, says, “Self-censorship robs you of your self-confidence, stifles your creativity, and keeps you swimming in an undercurrent of detachment, resentment, and low-level paranoia. Resist the temptation and ever-growing pressure to walk on eggshells in your own mind…”
We must give ourselves permission to speak freely. The world needs more honest expression, not weird labored language from people afraid to trust themselves or others.
As we know, life is not trauma-sensitive. It is full of pain and despair and grief, and no amount of safe spaces can make this reality untrue. You cannot avoid triggering people or being triggered. You will hurt feelings and make mistakes and get your feelings hurt. These things are simply a part of life.
London-based psychotherapist Seerut Chawla gives this direct advice: “You will offend other people. Every time you speak there is a risk of offense. You have two choices: water down your speech, hyperviligantly add 50 caveats, fail at communicating your message and still offend some people. [Or] Speak freely with integrity.”
I think we’d do well to remember often that we are not fragile. Humans are, above all else, resilient: capable of enduring and moving past great pain and challenge. Respecting each other’s resilience and strength is perhaps the most trauma-sensitive thing we can do.
Being mindful and intentional with your language is not the same as monitoring yourself excessively to try to control what other people might think of you. The latter is futile. What other people think or say or do is not under your control. Living and communicating in alignment with your values is what you can focus on.
You don’t have to constantly patrol or update your language to make sure you aren’t somehow offending someone. This is not productive, and often comes across (ironically) as patronizing or elitist. You do not need to go to a four-year liberal arts college, study some 19 year old’s infographic on TikTok, or take a weekend Trauma-Sensitive Yoga training to know how to speak kindly and treat all people with respect and dignity. Chances are, you already know how.
When I first began writing this newsletter, I (mostly) resisted the urge to add paragraphs of justifications and caveats. I do not want to live like that. I trust that each person who reads this is intelligent and can think for themselves. Valuing my own self-agency and competency means that I respect everyone’s self-agency and competency.
Speaking openly, honestly, and factually accurately.
The principles of trauma-sensitive yoga have helped me remarkably. They have made me more empathetic and a better listener. I have become more clear about who I am and what my voice sounds like, and I am more respectful of all beings. In my writing, you’ll see evidence of TSY-influenced language everywhere — you can, it might, I wonder if… Ultimately, this practice has enhanced my life greatly, and I’m grateful for the growth it has spurred.
I’m interested in creating and participating in groups of curious and compassionate people, who trust in their resilience and respect the strength of others. I don’t think diluted speech serves this purpose or gets us anywhere useful. What I’ve found is that by allowing myself to speak naturally and honestly, without strangling my words, the response on the other side is usually more natural and honest as well. Perhaps this is a way we may cultivate a more accepting, loving society.
I do not write in stone and have no desire to tell people what to do or think. I default to maybe or sometimes or perhaps, instead of declaratively yes or no, because that is what is most true. I don’t know or understand a lot of things, and I don’t answer most things definitively because it may very well change. Not speaking in absolutes is important to me because it is the most accurate way I can speak.
May we be confident enough to express ourselves authentically, and graceful enough to apologize humbly when appropriate. May we seek to understand people by asking questions, rather than relying on manufactured assumptions.
May we give ourselves permission to speak freely.
Maggie
P.s. Some of you beautiful people have been pledging my work! Thank you. This newsletter will remain free, but if you would like to pay to subscribe simply for the sake of it, I have enabled the function so that you can now do so.
Beautiful, love this:
I think we’d do well to remember often that we are not fragile. Humans are, above all else, resilient: capable of enduring and moving past great pain and challenge. Respecting each other’s resilience and strength is perhaps the most trauma-sensitive thing we can do.
It feels good, and half of the hour is doing seated poses, and the other half is standing using the chair as a balance. It works quite well for me. Love the meditation and deep breathing in a darkened room that we start with.