Writing the Body
- Penelope Cottrell
- Aug 26
- 2 min read
Our bodies remember what our minds sometimes forget. They hold tension, joy, memory, and grief. A clenched jaw, a racing heart, a knot in the stomach—these are stories, too.
When we sit down to write, most of us begin in our heads. We think in sentences and ideas, trying to make sense of what’s swirling inside. But the body has its own language. If we pause long enough to listen, it will tell us things the mind can’t.

The Body as Storykeeper
Maybe you’ve noticed it before: the way your shoulders creep upward during a difficult conversation, or how your chest feels lighter after a long laugh with a friend. These aren’t random sensations. They’re the body speaking.
Our bodies carry imprints of the past. Trauma, stress, and unspoken emotions often settle into muscles and breath patterns. But so do joy, love, and longing. When we bring awareness to these sensations and give them words on the page, we begin to connect with ourselves in a deeper, truer way.
Writing From Sensation
Writing the body means tuning in to sensation before you put pen to paper. Ask yourself:
Where do I feel heavy or tight?
Where do I feel open or alive?
What image or memory comes to mind when I focus on this part of my body?
For example:
“There’s a weight in my stomach, like a stone. I think it’s fear of disappointing someone again.”
“My heart feels wide, almost like a window opening. It’s the same feeling I had when I said yes to something that scared me.”
Notice how the body offers metaphors without effort. A knot, a stone, a window—these are entry points to the deeper story waiting to be told.
Why This Matters
So often, we try to “think” our way through emotions. But healing and self-empowerment come when we can acknowledge the wisdom of the body as well. Writing bridges that gap. It lets us translate sensation into story, and story into meaning.
Sometimes, writing the body brings release: the jaw unclenches, the shoulders drop, the breath softens. Sometimes, it simply brings awareness, which is its own kind of healing.
An Invitation
This week, try beginning with your body instead of your thoughts. Close your eyes. Place your hand where you feel the strongest sensation. Stay with it. Then write from that place.
You might be surprised at what emerges when you let the body speak.
Because here’s the truth: your body has a story to tell. And your words can set it free.

✨ If this resonates, consider joining us at The Rewrite Workshops—where we use writing not just for expression, but for healing.
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