When the Gears Aren’t Moving at the Same Speed

Our brains are incredible. They gather, analyze, and reason—helping us make sense of the world. But they’re only one part of the system. The body is the other gear—the slower, wiser one—home to the ventral vagal nerve and the nervous system that constantly hums beneath the surface, sending messages up and down the spine to help us stay alive, connected, and safe.

When we’re “in our heads,” the brain spins fast. Thoughts bounce around, chasing certainty, clinging to the ones that feel the most urgent or scary. We loop, freeze, fight, or flee. Meanwhile, the body—the place that holds our emotions—moves slower. It needs space and time. It knows how to feel, digest, and release, but it can’t do that when the brain is racing three steps ahead.

When the gears move at different speeds, dropping into the body can feel impossible. You might want to, but your brain is louder, faster, pushier. It wants out of discomfort; the body wants to stay and feel.

Here’s the practice: when you notice your mind racing, start by noticing that. Then, slow down. If you’re making coffee, feel the warmth of the mug, the weight of it in your hand, the scent rising up to meet you. Let your breath catch up to your body. Feel your feet, your seat, your skin.

You don’t need to do more—just feel what’s already here. This is how the gears begin to align. One small, steady moment of presence at a time.

It happened at the Denver Arboretum on a cool afternoon. The kind of day when the air smells damp and green, the kind that invites you to slow down—but I wasn’t in that place yet. We had been walking the trails for hours, and my body was tired. My feet hurt, my stomach was growling, and I was ready to call it a day. The crowds were growing thicker, and I could feel myself getting frustrated that I couldn’t stop and take it all in the way I wanted to.

That month, Dale Chihuly’s glass installations filled the gardens, and I’ve always loved his work. His pieces imitate nature—fluid, colorful, organic—but they also amplify it. The art and the plants seemed to be in conversation with each other. Still, even surrounded by all that beauty, I felt distracted, a little shut down. I was walking with my head low, eyes on the path, missing the very thing I’d come to experience.

Then we turned a corner.

The trail opened up to a wide, still pond. I’ve always loved water—it soothes something in me that’s beyond words, something deep and timeless. And there, rising from the center of the pond, was one of Chihuly’s glass pieces.

I stopped. My breath caught. I lifted my eyes and everything around me—the noise, the people, the fatigue—just fell away.

Delicate, brave purple cylinders reached upward, as if standing guard over the twisting, wild green forms below them. The glass seemed alive, in motion even though everything was still. Light from the water reflected upward, casting soft movement across the sculpture and into the air. I could feel my whole body responding—this downward pull into stillness, a rooting, like the earth was gently claiming me.

I sank down onto the ground without thinking, without caring who was watching. I just needed to be there. My shoulders softened. My breath deepened. I remember tilting my head from side to side, noticing how it felt, watching the colors shift with each small movement. For fifteen minutes I didn’t move, didn’t talk. The cold didn’t bother me anymore. Hunger disappeared. The urgency I had been carrying all day—gone.

That was the first time I remember being fully embodied. My mind quieted, and my body led. I could feel what calm really was—not a thought, but a sensation. It was the first step in my journey back to myself.

I didn’t need to understand it then. I just needed to let it be. And sometimes, that’s where the healing begins—when we stop trying to move through the moment, and instead, let the moment move through us.

If you consider yourself a past client or a client that hasn’t had an appointment in a minute or two- I want to invite you back, I miss you! And I have much more to share with you as I am constantly leveling up on my skills set and education/training. In addition to somatic sex and relationship coaching, I am using Somatic Experiencing to help people heal from trauma and regulate their nervous systems. Text or email for appointments- I don’t use online calendars because I want to CONNECT with you. Can’t wait to see you again!

My office hours are:

Monday 1-5pm
Tuesday-Thursday 11am-6pm
Friday 11am-4pm
*I open one Sunday a month to catch up for anyone that had to reschedule and I wasn’t able to get in any other time. Contact me personally for Sunday appointments as the dates are set as needed.