The Language of Emotion

By Maria T. Resele 

Understanding and Transforming Emotional Energy

Emotions are not abstract concepts—they are embodied processes, physiological states, and energetic movements within us. They shape how we think, act, and connect. When understood, emotions become allies rather than obstacles, guiding us toward resilience and authentic living.

The Nature of Emotional Energy

Emotions are both individual experiences and shared signals. Walk into a room where tension lingers, and you can sense it instantly, regardless of words. This is not imagination—it is the nervous system attuning to another’s state. Research on neuroception and emotional contagion demonstrates how we unconsciously register safety, threat, or connection through subtle cues in voice, posture, and presence.

An emotion is not confined to the mind. It lives in the body—tight shoulders when anxious, an open chest when joyful, a hollow stomach when afraid. These sensations carry meaning, forming a language that precedes thought.

Why Emotional States Matter

Every state we inhabit influences how we perform and how life feels. Consider two scenarios: working while calm and curious versus working while resentful. The task may be identical, but the outcome is not. Calmness supports focus and creativity, while resentment drains energy and narrows perspective.

This is not about “good” versus “bad” emotions. All emotions have a function. Anger mobilizes boundaries, sadness signals loss, joy deepens connection. Problems arise when we remain stuck in a state that no longer serves the present moment.

The 90-Second Window

Neuroscience shows that the biochemical surge of an emotion generally lasts about 90 seconds. What prolongs it is the mind’s interpretation—ruminating, replaying, or reinforcing the story. Recognizing this gives us agency: while we cannot prevent the first wave, we can choose how to meet it.

This choice is not suppression but awareness. By noticing sensations, breath, and impulses, we interrupt automatic cycles and open a path for regulation.

Awareness as a Skill

Before emotions can shift, they must be acknowledged. A simple practice is to pause and ask:

• What am I feeling right now?

• Where do I notice it in my body?

• What qualities, color, shape, movement, and weight—does it have?

• What trigger this emotion? 

This kind of mindful inquiry transforms emotion from a vague force into an experience we can observe and work with. Naming an emotion reduces its intensity and increases clarity.

Working with Emotional Submodalities

Neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) offers tools to change how emotions are represented internally. For instance, recall a moment of frustration. Notice where it sits in your body and how it feels—perhaps sharp, heavy, or spinning. Then adjust it: slow the spin, soften the edges, or shift its color to something calming. These subtle internal changes alter the nervous system’s response.

The same applies to the inner critic. If that voice is harsh and booming, experiment with lowering its volume or giving it a playful tone. By changing its qualities, we disrupt patterns of shame and invite more balanced self-talk.

Emotional Transformation Is Gradual

Shifting from despair to joy does not happen in a single step. The nervous system moves progressively—from shutdown to activation to connection. This process, often described as climbing the “Polyvagal Ladder,” illustrates that regulation emerges in stages. Recognizing this prevents self-judgment and supports sustainable change.

Trauma and Emotional Memory

Unresolved trauma often locks emotional states in place, as if the body keeps replaying a past danger. Trauma is not only in the mind—it is stored in muscle tone, breath, and autonomic patterns. When revisited in a safe and resourced state, these memories can be reorganized.

This is sometimes referred to as “memory reconsolidation” or “active forgetting.” By pairing old memories with new sensory experiences—such as grounding, slow breathing, or compassionate presence—the nervous system encodes safety where fear once lived.

The Role of Connection

While self-awareness is essential, healing rarely happens in isolation. Attuned connection—whether with a therapist, a loved one, or a community—provides the nervous system with cues of safety it cannot generate alone. Shame softens when met with empathy. Fear calms when held in regulated presence.

Connection also strengthens intuition. When we live in alignment with values such as truth and compassion, emotions cease to feel like enemies and instead become guides toward congruence and wholeness.

Conclusion

Becoming an Emotional Alchemist

Emotions are messages, not verdicts. Each one carries information about needs, values, and boundaries. With awareness, curiosity, and somatic tools, we can transform emotional energy into insight and strength.

Emotional freedom does not mean bypassing discomfort—it means meeting emotions with enough presence and curiosity to allow them to move. In doing so, we shift from being controlled by our states to consciously shaping them.

You are not at the mercy of your emotions. With practice and proper guidance, you can listen, learn, and alchemize them into resilience and connection.

References

• Bandler, R., & Grinder, J. (1979). Frogs into Princes: Neuro Linguistic Programming. Real People Press.

• Dana, D. (2018). The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy. Norton.

• Dispenza, J. (2012). Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself. Hay House.

• Fisher, J. (2021). Transforming the Living Legacy of Trauma. PESI Publishing.

• Gendlin, E. T. (1981). Focusing. Bantam.

• Hawkins, D. R. (2002). Power vs. Force. Hay House.

• Levine, P. A. (2010). In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma. North Atlantic Books.

• Maté, G. (2021). The Myth of Normal. Avery.

• Neff, K. (2011). Self-Compassion. HarperOne.

• Ogden, P., Minton, K., & Pain, C. (2006). Trauma and the Body: A Sensorimotor Approach to Psychotherapy. Norton.

• Ross, C. A., & Halpern, N. (2009). Trauma Model Therapy: A Treatment Approach for Trauma, Dissociation and Complex Comorbidity. Manitou Communications.

• Schwartz, R. C., & Sweezy, M. (2020). Internal Family Systems Therapy (2nd Ed.). Guilford Press.

The Body's Diary

By Maria T. Resele 

Inspire by 

The body keeps the score

 If the memory of trauma is encoded in the viscera, in heartbreaking and gut-wrenching emotions, in autoimmune disorders and skeletal/muscular problems… this demands a radical shift in our therapeutic assumptions.”
— Dr. Bessel van der Kolk

When the Body Speaks Before We Do

Long before I studied trauma theory or practiced therapeutic techniques, I lived trauma in silence. For years, I had no words for what I felt. But my body was never silent. It spoke through shallow breathing, tense shoulders, an aching back, and sleepless nights. At the time, I didn’t understand that these sensations were not random symptoms—they were chapters in a much older story, a diary my nervous system had been writing since childhood.

In the quiet of the night, I often sensed a part of me remaining awake, hyper-alert, scanning, unable to rest. I call this part "The Night Watcher". It emerged during times when safety was not guaranteed, when vigilance meant survival. Even when my body longed for sleep, this loyal inner protector refused to let down its guard.

For years, I believed this meant I was broken. That belief followed me even as I trained as a therapist. My intellect understood healing, but my body had not yet caught up.

Why Emotional Processing Isn’t Always the First Step

Many of my clients arrive at the same place I once stood: intelligent, reflective, and deeply frustrated. They have tried to “talk it through,” to “feel their feelings,” yet remain stuck. Some feel everything at once—flooded by waves of emotion and anger. Others feel nothing at all—numb, disconnected, or trapped in cycles of shame and grief.

Trauma research now confirms what lived experience has long shown: when the nervous system is dysregulated, direct focus on emotional processing can backfire. It can amplify overwhelm or reinforce protective patterns.

As the Sensorimotor Psychotherapy Institute notes:

“Direct attention to emotions in such instances may exacerbate dysregulation and/or reinforce maladaptive emotional patterns... Affect might be best regulated, rather, through an exclusive focus on bottom-up or sensorimotor processing interventions.”

This insight reshaped not only my practice but also my own healing.

Turning Toward Sensation

One evening, I felt the familiar tension in my upper back (Thoracic spine). Normally, I would have pushed past it. But this time, something inside whispered, “Stay.” Instead of ignoring the discomfort, I placed my hand gently on my chest and slowed my breath. I asked my spine, “What are you holding?”

The response was not verbal. It came as warmth, pressure, a subtle shift. A fragment of memory surfaced—not fully formed, but enough. I followed the sensation as it moved through my ribcage and into the breath I had been holding.

Nothing dramatic happened. And yet, everything shifted. I wasn’t fixing or forcing. I was listening to my pain. I was allowing to signals.

This is the essence of somatic work: entering the body not to control or cathartically release, but to witness with curiosity. It is through micro-movements, gentle tracking, and subtle shifts that the nervous system begins to rewrite its story.

When the Body Is Ready, It Speaks

Many people with complex trauma attempt emotional healing too soon—not out of failure, but because the body was not ready yet. Forcing catharsis before the system is stable can retraumatize the very parts we are trying to free.

What I have learned, both personally and professionally, is this: the body is not your enemy. It is your protector.

Shallow breath, back pain, restless nights—these are not malfunctions to fix. They are messages. They are diary entries of the nervous system, waiting to be read with compassion.

Returning to the Body’s Wisdom

Today, when tension rises in my chest or my back aches in the night, I respond differently. I do not panic or rush to silence it. I pause. I listen.

I ask, “What do you need me to know?”

The answers arrive not as words, but as tremors, warmth, small breaths, subtle releases. This is how healing unfolds—not in grand catharsis, but in micro-moments of safety, curiosity, and presence.

This is also the invitation I extend to my clients: to meet their bodies with patience, to follow sensations as they arise, and to trust that healing begins not with analysis but with presence.

An Invitation for You

If you’ve been in therapy that never reached your body, or if you’ve tried to “let it go” only to spiral back into old patterns—this is your moment. You don’t have to relive every memory to heal. 

You only need to listen.

One breath.
One sensation.
One gentle gesture of self-support.

Your body is not the problem.
It is the portal.
It is your first language.
It is your oldest diary.

And it is ready to be read with compassion.

Note:  Proper guidance is essential to safely navigate repressed trauma and intense emotional releases. 

Resources for Further Exploration

• Peter Levine – In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness

• Pat Ogden – Trauma and the Body: A Sensorimotor Approach to Psychotherapy

• Bessel van der Kolk – The Body Keeps the Score

• Janina Fisher – Transforming the Living Legacy of Trauma

• Stephen Porges – Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, and Self-Regulation

• Gabor Maté – The Myth of Normal