When Being Still Has No Chill: Stress and Trauma-Informed Approaches to Meditative Practices

Why Stillness Can Be So Hard

Sitting in meditation or mindfulness practice is often described as the path to peace and clarity. In my own experience, stillness (which I define as the ability to observe my mind and body without getting lost in thought) has been essential for healing.

Yet, sitting quietly often left me spinning in anxious thoughts or old memories. After my treatment for leukemia, this was even more pronounced. When I tried to meditate or do Inquiry, the fear and trauma responses would take over. When I moved (even slowly, on a VERY short walk) I could breathe, orient, and find some clarity.

For many years, I thought I was doing it wrong. I didn't really care too much, because my approach worked for me, but I still found it puzzling.

It turns out there’s a reason these “stillness” practices can feel overwhelming. 

For certain populations, especially those with trauma histories, anxiety, depression, or serious illness, traditional stillness-based meditation can actually be harmful without the right support (Lindahl et al., 2017; Treleaven, 2018).

Much of the modern mindfulness world has emphasized a top-down approach: training the mind to quiet itself through willpower and attention. But research now shows that the body plays an equally essential role. Without the support of embodied practices such as grounding, movement, and breath, the mind may actually become more dysregulated. True peace requires a mind–body connection, where the body feels safe enough for the mind to rest (Farb et al., 2015; Van der Kolk, 2014).

Trauma-Informed Alternatives

Imagine asking someone with unresolved trauma to sit cross-legged on the floor, close their eyes, and notice what arises. That very posture can trigger a fear response: racing thoughts, intrusive memories, or even panic. I experienced this myself. Not much can happen when I’m caught in survival mode.

Here are a few gentle alternatives:

Eyes: Do not close your eyes until you’re ready. Instead, keep them softly open, lower your gaze, or rest them on a neutral spot. This allows the nervous system to stay oriented to the present and reduces fear-based scanning for danger (Treleaven, 2018). 

Posture: Sitting cross-legged can feel vulnerable. A chair, feet flat on the floor, can provide a stronger sense of safety. 

Duration: Short practices, even one to five minutes, can be more effective than forcing long sits.

Movement: Consider adding some mindful movement. 

Movement Has Always Been Part of Meditation

While modern Western mindfulness often emphasizes sitting still with eyes closed, many traditions across history have included movement as a doorway into meditation. In fact, for much of the world, movement and rhythm were not separate from contemplative practice but essential to it.

Yoga began as a preparatory practice for meditation, not an exercise routine, but a way to open and stabilize the body so the mind could focus. 

Walking meditation has roots in Buddhist practice, where monks alternated between sitting and walking to balance energy, focus, and embodiment. 

Tai chi and qi gong in Chinese traditions use slow, deliberate movement to harmonize energy, cultivate awareness, and quiet the mind. 

Chanting and mantra recitation combine rhythm, sound, and often gentle swaying to anchor attention and regulate the nervous system. 

Breathwork practices across cultures use rhythmic breathing patterns to quiet thought and bring the body into presence. 

Dancing - from Sufi whirling to indigenous circle dances - has long been a way of entering altered states, processing emotions, and experiencing unity. 

Seen through this wider lens, movement isn’t a deviation from meditation, it is meditation. The body becomes an ally, not an obstacle. By walking, swaying, breathing, or dancing, practitioners historically created the safety, rhythm, and focus needed to then drop into deeper stillness.

When we integrate these movement practices today, we are not inventing something new but reclaiming an ancient truth: the mind settles best when the body is included.

In my own experience, my body is the truth teller I can turn to, while my mind often confuses me. Additionally, I have a strong PHYSICAL reference point for what clarity and peace feel like in my body (who I am without the stressful thought) making it easier for me to see when I have drifted off into a stressful belief.

Meeting Yourself Where You Are

The truth is, sitting meditation isn’t right for everyone, and that’s okay!

Working with your mind can begin from where you are, not from an idealized image of perfect stillness.

By choosing practices that feel safe, you build the capacity to meet discomfort, extend your concentration, and open to greater clarity and joy.

Something to try: 

If you do The Work, periodically check in with your body. For example,

• If you have a "No" to number 1, check in. Does your body agree?

• When you are in #3, scan your body.

  • What sensations are arising?

  • What would support allowing them to live their lives and pass through?

• As you notice examples for turnarounds, check to see how they land in the body - are they really true for you or is the ego stepping in?