Last week, in our #MyPeacein50 series, we explored how stretching — literal and metaphorical — can help us gently reclaim a sense of worthiness. We gave our bodies permission to move, open, soften, and remember: you don’t have to earn your right to rest. This week, we’re shifting into an equally powerful truth:

Your body doesn’t just remember pain or trauma — it remembers safety, too.

We talk a lot in healing spaces about how trauma is stored in the body. And it’s true. Bessel van der Kolk’s now-classic book, The Body Keeps the Score (affiliate link), brought that reality into the public consciousness in a way that was both validating and empowering. Our nervous systems record what we go through — especially what overwhelms us — and those imprints shape how we react, respond, and protect ourselves later.

But that’s only part of the story. Just as your body remembers the pain, it also remembers peace.

It remembers laughter that made your belly ache. It remembers the feeling of a loved one’s hand holding yours. It remembers dancing in the kitchen. Warm blankets. Summer sun. The smell of your favorite meal. The safety of someone who saw you and stayed. And these imprints — these pockets of embodied safety — are just as real. Just as powerful. And just as accessible.

The Science of Memory, Safety, and the Nervous System

Our nervous systems are designed to protect us. That’s their job. When something threatens us — physically or emotionally — the sympathetic nervous system kicks in. Heart rate increases, muscles tense, breath quickens. This fight-or-flight response helps us survive.

But our nervous system isn’t just about fear. The parasympathetic branch, particularly the ventral vagal system, is responsible for what’s called the social engagement system. This is the part of the nervous system that’s activated when we feel calm, safe, and connected to others. When this system is engaged, we:

• Make eye contact
• Speak with warmth and tone
• Feel grounded in our bodies
• Experience a sense of belonging

And most importantly — we remember these moments. Neuroplasticity — the brain’s ability to change over time — means that these safe, warm, connected experiences leave a mark. They form part of our emotional and physiological memory bank. They shape how we relate to ourselves and the world.

Small Moments, Deep Impact

The most profound sense of safety often comes from the simplest things. For me, one of those moments is when my husband gives me a scalp massage using this ridiculously simple tool — the USAGA Head Massager (affiliate link). You’ve probably seen it. Thin wires. Little rubber tips. It looks like a head whisk. But when he slowly lowers it onto my scalp, my whole body responds. My shoulders drop. My breath slows. My mind quiets.

And here’s the wild part — sometimes, before the tool even touches my head, my body is already preparing. Already relaxing. Already anticipating what’s to come. My head can literally feel the massager before it’s even touched my hair.

That’s the body remembering safety.

This isn’t just about a physical sensation. It’s also about who is doing it. The care in his hands. The trust between us. The memory of the last time it felt so good. My nervous system recognizes the whole experience, not just the touch — and says, “Ah. We know this. We’re okay here.”

Grief, Memory, and Love That Stays

Sometimes, the people who made us feel safest aren’t with us anymore. And still — our bodies remember them. For me, that person is my brother. He passed away recently, and the grief is real. But there are moments — small, quiet, unexpected — when I feel him.

Sometimes it’s in a song he loved. Sometimes it’s in seeing a show or movie that we saw together as kids. Sometimes in the warmth that rises in my chest when I remember something he said. And my body knows. Not in a performative, dramatic way — but in that subtle shift where everything stills. Where I take a breath and feel a deep, anchored presence. He saw me. He loved me. That mattered.

That still matters. Even loss can hold a kind of safety when the love was real. Because our bodies don’t just remember the absence — they remember the presence that came before it.

Reclaiming the Body as a Place of Refuge

When we’ve lived through trauma or chronic stress, it’s easy to see our bodies as battlegrounds. Places of tension. Pain. Hypervigilance. It can feel risky to be in our own skin. But every time we experience something safe — a hug, a shared laugh, the warmth of sun on our face — we have a chance to rewrite that narrative. We begin to create new associations:

• My body is where I feel a soft blanket, not just panic
• My breath is where I find calm, not just collapse
• My senses are how I connect to joy, not just threat

These aren’t instant changes. They’re layered, like sediment. They build over time. And with intention, we can start to collect and name these moments — turning them into resources we can come back to.

Practice: A Body Memory Inventory

This week, I invite you to create a Body Memory Inventory — a list of moments when your body has felt safe, loved, and grounded.

You don’t need many. Just a few you can return to.

Here are some prompts to help you start:

• A time when someone made you feel completely seen
• A physical experience that helped you relax (massage, warm bath, etc.)
• A place that makes your body exhale (the ocean, your favorite chair)
• A moment of belly laughter with someone you love
• A time when music brought you peace or joy

Write these down. Or speak them into a voice note. Or draw them. These are your body’s treasures. Your proof that safety isn’t just possible — it’s something you’ve already known. And the more we notice and name these moments, the more we build our capacity to experience them again.

Ways to Revisit Safety in Daily Life

You don’t need a retreat or a quiet house to feel safe. Here are a few everyday ways to help your body remember:

1. Use a sensory tool (like the USAGA Head Massager)

Even a simple scalp massage can reconnect you with comfort. It’s not silly — it’s science.

2. Wrap yourself in a weighted blanket

This can mimic the feeling of being held and grounded.

3. Smell something nostalgic

Scent is powerful. Light a candle that reminds you of someone you love or a safe place.

4. Play a song that brings you home

Music can instantly reconnect us with past experiences and emotions.

5. Text someone who feels like safety

Even a short message can reignite connection and belonging.

6. Eat something comforting, slowly

When we bring attention to meals with comfort and intention, food can also be a form of embodied remembrance.

7. Create a tactile anchor

Carry a smooth stone, soft fabric, or small object in your pocket that reminds you of someone or someplace safe.

These micro-practices can build macro healing. Safety doesn’t always arrive in big declarations. Sometimes it whispers in these small acts of presence.

From This Week to Next

This week, we’re remembering what our bodies already know — that safety isn’t a distant memory. It’s something we can practice.

Next week, we’ll explore how even when we’re moving — parenting, commuting, caregiving, leading — we can find moments of stillness. It’s called "Stillness in Motion," and it might be just the pause you’ve been craving.

But for now, ask your body:

• Where have I felt safe?
• What helped me feel that way?
• How can I recreate just a piece of that today?

The Weekly Flow

Here’s what this week looks like in the #MyPeacein50 rhythm:

• Monday → This blog goes live
• Tuesday–Thursday → I’ll share reflections, prompts, and sensory practices on Instagram, LinkedIn, and Facebook
• Friday → I’ll share a short video with what I noticed about my body memory practice this week — the messy, beautiful parts

You’re invited to:

• Quietly follow
• Comment with your favorite sensory memory
• Share your own #MyPeacein50 moment
• Or download the free Calm Calendar to help anchor your week

What I’m Loving This Week

• Sound: The scratchy, rhythmic hum of a vinyl record — a little imperfect, but warm and alive.
• Practice: Letting my body pause before meals. A breath, a moment, a thank you.
• Tool: USAGA Head Massager — yes, the viral one. Surprisingly effective.
• Quote: "Your body is the ground metaphor of your life, the expression of your existence." — Gabrielle Ro
• Song: “Days Like This” by Van Morrison — a song to validate that we all have bad days while also being present in the good ones.

Take care of your body this week. It remembers everything — including love.