Where Is My Body Right Now?
Where Is My Body Right Now?
by Suchu Tanyetz
Where is my body right now?
Not in the way a mirror might answer. Not the shape. Not the outline. Not the name for a posture or the way I’ve been told I appear.
Where is it from the inside?
Somatics begins with this kind of question. Not a command to improve or correct, but an invitation to notice. To inhabit. To return.
Right now, I am sitting, but also drifting. My chest feels quiet, but something in my belly pulls back. My shoulders are slightly lifted, ready. For what? I don’t know. But they think something is coming. I soften them just a little. They forget the weight for a moment.
This is not mindfulness as performance.
This is not posture correction for productivity.
This is not breathwork repackaged to sharpen your focus or help you code longer.
This is me, locating myself. Not with logic—but with sensation.
❍ Somatics Is the Practice of Feeling From Within
The word somatics comes from the Greek soma, meaning the living body as experienced from the inside.
It is not about how your body looks or what it can do. It is about how it feels to live inside it. To sense it in motion, in stillness, in grief, in effort, in breath.
We are constantly being asked to leave our bodies. By screens. By urgency. By systems that reward disconnection and overextension. But the body doesn’t forget. It waits. It holds.
Somatic practice is a way to come home—slowly, gently, again and again.
❍ There Is No Right Answer
Where is your body right now?
Maybe your hands are cool and your feet are tense. Maybe your ribs are bracing for something. Maybe your eyes are tired in a way you didn’t notice until just now.
None of this is wrong.
The goal is not to fix what you find. The goal is to feel it. To be in relationship with it. Sensation is information. Listening is the first move.
❍ What Happens When You Ask Again?
Try asking throughout the day.
When you wake up: Where is my body right now?
After a conversation: What am I holding?
Before sleep: What would let me soften?
Not every answer is pleasant. Not every sensation has language. But the more often you ask, the more fluent you become in your own body’s language. You don’t need choreography or labels or permission.
You just need to ask—and listen.
