Devon Hornby LMT
“The future enters into us, in order to transform itself in us, long before it happens.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke
In the previous articles, we’ve explored two simple but profound ideas.
First, that the body is more than something we inhabit—it is an organ of perception.
Second, that when we become more embodied, we can begin to notice how our beliefs shape our experience. Rather than arguing with our thoughts or replacing them with more positive ones, we learned to observe how the whole organism responds when a belief is held gently in awareness.
This week I’d like to extend that practice in a new direction.
Instead of bringing our attention to beliefs about the past or present, we’ll begin listening to the future.
Not the future as prediction.
The future as possibility.
We Are Always Living Toward Something
Whether we realize it or not, much of our lives are organized by the futures we imagine.
We imagine conversations before they happen.
We rehearse success and failure.
We anticipate rejection.
We dream about new beginnings.
Some of these imagined futures inspire us.
Others quietly shape our lives through fear.
Often, these possibilities exist only as thoughts.
But something remarkable happens when we become more embodied.
The body responds to possibility.
Simply imagining a difficult conversation can tighten the jaw and shorten the breath.
Thinking about spending time in nature may soften the shoulders before we’ve even stepped outside.
The organism does not wait for events to occur before it begins relating to them.
It is already participating.
The Body as a Compass
One of the great gifts of embodiment is that it allows us to notice this participation.
This is not about deciding what is “right.”
Nor is it about assuming that every feeling of comfort is wise and every feeling of discomfort should be avoided.
Growth often asks us to move beyond what feels familiar.
Fear is not always a sign to turn away.
Excitement is not always a sign to move forward.
Discernment asks something quieter.
It asks:
What brings greater coherence to the whole of my being?
This question cannot always be answered by logic alone.
Nor can it be answered by emotion in isolation.
It asks us to include the wisdom of the whole organism.
Feeling Into Possibility
Throughout contemplative traditions, there is a recurring invitation to become deeply present before acting.
In Taoism, this is reflected in wu wei—action that arises in harmony with the unfolding of life rather than from force or struggle.
Within Buddhist practice, mindfulness creates the space to respond rather than react.
In Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy, practitioners learn to wait, to listen, and to sense the direction in which Health is already moving before attempting to intervene.
Although these traditions differ in language and philosophy, they share a profound respect for receptive awareness.
Rather than imposing our will upon experience, we learn to listen before we act.
Perhaps our own lives deserve the same patience.
A Practice of Imagining Futures
I’d like to invite you into another experiment.
Begin by settling into the embodied awareness we’ve cultivated throughout this series.
Feel the support beneath your body.
Notice your breathing.
Allow your attention to widen until you feel a quiet sense of presence.
Now bring to mind a genuine possibility in your life.
Perhaps you’re considering a new job.
Beginning a relationship.
Starting a creative project.
Having a difficult conversation.
Or simply saying “no” where you have always said “yes.”
Imagine that possibility unfolding.
Not as fantasy.
As though it were happening.
Notice your body.
What happens to your breathing?
Your chest?
Your belly?
Your posture?
Does your attention become clearer or more fragmented?
More settled or more agitated?
Now allow that possibility to dissolve.
Rest for a few breaths.
Then imagine a different path.
Observe again.
There is no need to decide today.
You are simply becoming acquainted with the language of your own organism.
A Word of Caution
Practices like this require humility and radical honesty.
Our bodies carry history.
Trauma.
Conditioning.
Habit.
Anxiety can make a wholesome path feel threatening.
Old patterns can make familiar suffering feel strangely comfortable.
The purpose of this exercise is not to find immediate certainty.
It is to cultivate sensitivity.
Over time, as we become more embodied and more familiar with the quiet coherence beneath habitual reactivity, we often begin to distinguish between fear that arises from genuine danger and fear that accompanies growth. We are not seeking comfort, we are discerning wholeness, coherence, integrity.
These distinctions are rarely obvious. They reveal themselves in an environment of openness and curiosity. They develop through practice.
What I’ve Observed in Practice
Over the years, I’ve noticed that some of the most meaningful decisions people make don’t arrive as moments of dramatic certainty.
Instead, they unfold gradually.
Someone begins speaking about a new direction in life.
At first, their words are hesitant.
Then, almost without noticing, their breathing deepens.
Their posture changes.
Their face becomes more animated.
The body begins expressing something before the mind has fully caught up.
I’ve also seen the opposite.
A person carefully explains why a decision makes perfect sense.
Yet throughout the conversation, their shoulders remain tense.
Their breathing becomes shallow.
Their body quietly expresses a different story.
Neither response provides an answer.
But both invite a deeper conversation.
The organism is participating.
The question is whether we are listening.
Living Toward Coherence
Most of us have been taught to make decisions by weighing advantages and disadvantages.
This remains an important part of wise decision-making.
But perhaps we can expand the conversation.
Perhaps our choices can also include the quiet intelligence of the body.
Not replacing reason.
Not replacing careful reflection.
Completing them.
As our lives become more embodied, we may discover that the future is not something we conquer through control.
It is something we enter into relationship with.
And like every meaningful relationship, it begins with listening.
Looking Ahead
In the next article, we’ll explore an equally important practice.
Rather than asking our sensations to explain themselves, we’ll learn how to remain present with the body’s experience without immediately turning it into a story.
We may discover that some of our deepest insights arise, not from interpretation, but from the quiet willingness to simply stay present.
Further Exploration
Contemplative Traditions
- Taoist teachings on wu wei and alignment with the unfolding of life.
- Buddhist teachings on mindfulness, intention, and wise action.
Philosophy and Cognitive Science
- Maurice Merleau-Ponty — Phenomenology of Perception
- Francisco Varela, Evan Thompson & Eleanor Rosch — The Embodied Mind
- Antonio Damasio — The Feeling of What Happens
Clinical Perspectives
- Franklyn Sills — Craniosacral Biodynamics
- Anna Chitty — teachings on orienting toward Health and perceptual awareness.
- Stephen Porges — Polyvagal Theory and neuroception.