Embodiment in the dark nights

(written for a Imagine Mindfulness December 2025 newsletter, republishing here)

As the calendar year is coming to its close, we might feel invited to pause and reflect, to write down on our mental or our actual list all the things that have happened in a way they were intended, and also those which have involved a challenging process. We might allow a story to come from these separate things, a story that can bring understanding and further direction. The other night, far away from falling asleep, yet not awake enough to leave my bed, I found myself tossing under the warm blanket and noticing a narrative coming together. One about ease and discomfort that I feel like sharing today with our Imagine community.

Our mindfulness practice has, beside practicing itself, often a wish to bring ease and peace to our lives. What is then happening when that is not the case? Especially in the quiet hours of the night, when the house is asleep, and I am not. When there is no outside noise to distract myself from the turbulent thoughts? When I realise that every time I turn in my bed, in search of a more comfortable position, my body actually answers to the discomfort of the thought that just came in.

For years I have been exploring embodiment, even before I had a name for it, and in particular the expressions of mind in the body, and those of body in the mind. Having long realised it is deeply connected, I can follow one to allow space for the other to reveal its needs. In the earlier days, I would just say: “I cannot find a right position to fall asleep”, where in this particular moment a wider understanding of what is happening becomes available: “I was actually not able to find a comfortable position for my thoughts”. They too need a container, a space that is both holding and not limiting, a breathing space that can expand and contract in response to what is present. So the movement of the body actually becomes a process for the thoughts to find the right way to be held.

In mindfulness practices we may be asked to sit, or to move, or to walk … and in my experience these are all needed in their own particular moment. Sometimes I cannot notice the content of my mind in a still position. I have to start walking and that movement allows a landing space for the monkey mind. On the other hand, imagine being immersed in disorienting muddy waters and not being able to see which way is up or down, in that case stopping the movement of the body can allow the waters to calm down and clarity and ease to arrive. I have come to the conclusion that it is deeply about being patient and listening to what is needed. This might take time and a few try-outs, and then sometimes even more time. Yet, when we can sit with whatever is happening without setting a deadline to resolve the issue, then, when ease starts building, it can reveal itself. This year, I have started working with babies and with them it becomes obvious that “giving time” plays a significant role. “Being’ is the natural way for them (the “having-to-do mode” is not yet learnt/socialized into their system) and so they can be fully present with exactly where they are from moment to moment, regardless of the amount of time that passes by. To me it shows the power of giving time for the state of ease, of clarity, of comfort to be found.

That was also the case for me that night. It took a few hours, a few moments of actually writing down the racing thoughts, a few cycles of breathing and inviting my body to yield into the gravity, until sleep came. In the morning, when I woke up, not really knowing when this practice had allowed my system to fall asleep, I felt deeply grateful for the gift of the embodiment. In my actual time of need, the formal practices and learning about it supported me and also inspired me to write this to you.

I conclude with a wish, for each one of us, to give space and time to ourselves, to keep finding curiosity, and to rediscover the natural connection of body and mind - and the heart. To connect to their constant dialogue and their mirroring and expressions into and onto each other. I wish for all the bodies, and minds, and hearts everywhere, to arrive at ease, and to keep arriving, as ease is not a final destination, but a state that we transition from and back to.