Learning to Stay – The Sacred Art of Remembering the Body
- Brainz Magazine
- Jan 20
- 5 min read
Sicadia-Paige is the founder of True You Collective, Colorado’s dedicated Nervous System Reboot™ Center, where science, frequency, and light-based therapies come together to help clients break free from chronic stress, overwhelm, and nervous system dysregulation.
For years, I thought awakening meant leaving the human experience. I believed it was floating above pain, becoming “light,” transcending the mess of being embodied. In those moments, it felt as if I was drifting on a gentle cloud, far above any ache or discomfort, each breath a whisper in a vast, serene sky. I thought enlightenment lived somewhere beyond sensation, beyond the body’s responses, beyond the pulse moving quietly beneath my skin.
The plants taught me otherwise. They didn’t lift me out of my body. They brought me deeper into it.
Simply feeling my breath rise and fall, sensing my heartbeat as it echoed through my chest, showed me what presence truly is. A soft breeze against my skin. The quiet murmur of blood moving through vessels. Awakening wasn’t escape; it was intimacy with life itself.
During one of the most visceral ceremonies of my life, I asked for remembrance. Not visions. Not bliss. Just truth. The medicine met me in that prayer.
Rather than carrying me toward the stars, it brought me into bone, into muscle, into the places I had forgotten were sacred. It returned me to the body I had spent decades fighting, trying to fix her, hide her, and make her smaller. I blamed others for not loving her, never realizing she was waiting for me to love her first. In that moment of realization, I whispered a gentle apology to myself, acknowledging the years of struggle with a kindness I now extended to every part of me.
As the medicine moved through me, every muscle became memory, setting off a sequence of experiences that transformed my understanding of my own body. Initially, tension surfaced, manifesting as a tightness across my chest and a weight upon my shoulders, each sensation a narrative waiting to be understood. Then came recognition, as I began to connect each sensation to specific moments of grief, trauma, and unresolved emotion, stored within the tissues and fibers of my being. Finally, release washed over me, a sensation akin to a gentle surrender, allowing each muscle to unburden itself, replaced by a profound sense of relief and understanding. The plants are honest teachers. They don’t let you skip steps.
They show that surrender isn’t weakness. It’s the path to knowledge.
As I softened, my body began to speak. She showed me she was never the problem. She was the keeper. She held what I wasn’t ready to feel. Every ache, every tension, every extra pound I had judged was my body saying, remember me.
What is your body saying to you? Pause for a moment and ask, “What have you been keeping for me?” Allow yourself to listen to the response with compassion.
Science is only now beginning to catch up to what ancient traditions have always known: the body remembers. Trauma, grief, and chronic stress are stored not just in the mind, but in the nervous system, in fascia, in breath patterns, and in heart rate variability. The vagus nerve can be thought of as a tuning fork of safety, deeply influenced by sensation, sound, frequency, vibration, and breath.
Healing doesn’t happen by thinking our way out. It happens when the body feels safe enough to stay.
In that remembering, something shifted. The boundary between spirit and flesh dissolved. I realized embodiment isn’t the opposite of enlightenment. It’s the doorway to it.
There was a moment of hesitation. Standing in front of a mirror, facing years of shame and self-criticism, I felt the urge to look away. The cool glass reflected not just my image, but the weight of unmet eyes, a barrier thin yet profound. Yet in that moment, my heartbeat echoed in my ears like a distant drumbeat calling me back to myself. I chose to stay. I chose to step forward rather than float out. That choice, seemingly small yet immeasurably brave, opened the way to deeper knowing.
When we inhabit our bodies fully, we stop running from the lesson. Pain becomes communication, not punishment. The plants taught me that creation doesn’t happen in constant motion. It happens in stillness, in the silence between breaths, in the pause between drumbeats, in the quiet after release. Neuroscience mirrors this truth: moments of stillness allow the nervous system to shift from survival into repair. Heart rate variability improves. The body reorganizes itself.
Notice the silence after your next exhale. That is where wisdom lives. We fear stillness because it feels like emptiness, but the void is not barren. It is womb-like, a place where remembering grows. Surrender becomes loving the body, not bypassing it. This isn’t self-indulgence; it’s self-initiation.
Sound and vibration play a powerful role here. Low-frequency vibration, rhythmic sound, and resonance, whether through ceremony, music, or vibroacoustic therapy, speak directly to the nervous system. They bypass the analytical mind and communicate through the same pathways that regulate safety, trust, and presence. In many ways, they echo what the plants taught me: healing happens when the body feels heard.
The plants didn’t heal me. They introduced me to the healer within.
Lying on a bathroom floor, hands pressed against cool tile, I felt the earth through the surface beneath me. My breath steadied. Blood warmed my hands. Tears released. In that moment, my body wasn’t a cage. It was a compass.
Every freckle, every scar, every curve became a constellation, markers on a map guiding me home. When we stop trying to escape the body, we stop escaping ourselves. We anchor the cosmos into earth by staying fully here, fully human. We remember that connection doesn’t require leaving. It requires listening.
So the next time you feel the urge to escape, try staying instead. Take a deep breath in, feeling the air fill your lungs completely. Notice the sensation as your chest rises. As you slowly exhale, imagine roots growing from the soles of your feet into the ground beneath you, anchoring you to the moment. This simple act of presence can transform your need to escape into a moment of profound connection with yourself.
Feel the ground beneath your feet. Place a hand over your heart. Listen to the rhythm that has been keeping you alive all along.
Welcome yourself home, to your body, to your breath, to the sacred place where your journey is witnessed and honored. You were never meant to leave. You were meant to remember.
Read more from Sicadia-Paige
Sicadia-Paige, Vibroacoustic Therapist and Myofunctional Therapist
Founder of True You Collective in Arvada, Colorado, Sicadia-Paige is a Certified Vibroacoustic Therapist, Certified Myofunctional Therapist, Nervous System Reboot™ Guide, and End-of-Life Doula. She specializes in cutting-edge, frequency-based therapies designed to calm the nervous system, ease pain and inflammation, and unlock the body’s natural healing intelligence.
