By: Amy Pickett-Williams, LCSW, RYT, Founder of LIGHT Movement

Last week, I walked out of a doctor’s office holding news I didn’t expect. After months of escalating nerve pain and weakness, I was told I will need back surgery due to a pinched nerve.

But that wasn’t the only thing I was holding.

As I stepped into the parking lot, I realized it was two years to the day since my cancer surgery. My body remembered—before I even consciously made the connection. My breath shortened, my head spun, and a wave of nausea rose from my belly. It wasn’t just the news; it was the layering of anniversaries, memories, and the sudden return to a place of vulnerability. you can read more about the fall and cancer diagnosis which was the impetus to How the LIGHT Movement began.

This is the moment the nervous system does what it’s designed to do—perceive threat and react. For me, it was a classic sympathetic state: heart racing, breath shallow, body bracing for danger.
And, what did I say to myself?

I have a relationship with my body. I have tools. And I trust them.

So I did what I teach others to do when the body speaks loudly through sensations, symptoms, and emotions.
I started with my breath—lengthening my exhale to gently invite my body back into balance.

I rubbed my hands together, feeling the warmth, and softly placed them over my eyes, giving my nervous system a cue of safety.

I pressed into acupressure points along my face and ears, areas rich with vagus nerve pathways, helping to downshift my body’s alarm system.

I went home and co-regulated with the best healers I know—my dog and cats. Petting them, feeling their steady rhythm, letting their presence soothe my edges.

I called a friend. I shared the story out loud, letting connection co-regulate what was too big to hold alone.
And you know what? It worked.

I could feel my body soften. I returned to my window of balance—what I often call the window of tolerance. Not by ignoring the feelings, but by listening and tending to them through my body.

This is why I am passionate about teaching these somatic tools through LIGHT Movement.
Because life doesn’t stop bringing us hard things. But when we have tools, and when we practice them even in the small moments, we build a trust in our body’s ability to move through—not around—the overwhelm.

Two years ago, I felt like I was at the mercy of my body. Today, even with another surgery on the horizon, I feel like I am in partnership with it.

That, to me, is growth

Somatic Pause: Tending to the Overwhelm
When life hands us hard news, our bodies often speak before our minds can catch up. Here’s a simple practice I used—and you can, too—to meet those moments with care

1. Pause and Feel Your Feet:
Wherever you are, pause and bring your attention to your feet. Feel them in contact with the ground, your shoes, or the floor. Let them remind you: I am here. I am supported.

2. Lengthen Your Exhale:
Inhale naturally through your nose, then slowly exhale as if you’re gently blowing through a straw. Do this for a few rounds, letting your exhale be longer than your inhale.

3. Hand to Heart or Eyes:
Rub your hands together to generate warmth. Then softly place them over your heart or eyes—whichever feels most comforting. Let the warmth and weight of your hands be an anchor of safety.

4. Soothing Touch:
Try gently massaging your jaw, cheeks, or ears. These areas are rich with nerve endings that signal safety to the body.

5. Name What’s Here:
In a whisper or silently to yourself, name what you’re feeling: dizzy, scared, overwhelmed, tender. Naming can help your body and mind integrate the experience.

6. Connect:
If possible, reach out to a friend, a pet, or even place your hand on your chest and say to yourself: I’m not alone.

___________________________________________________________

Remember:
These are not tools to make the hard feelings go away. They are invitations to stay present with yourself in a kinder, more regulated way.

Your body holds wisdom—and it also holds the capacity to come back into balance.