When the Body Speaks: Listening to the Unhealed Wounds of Trauma

As we all know it is important to understand the silent signals after such an ongoing trauma as October 7 and the rise in national and global fear.

With the intensifying waves of hatred, violence, and uncertainty in Israel and around the world against Jews, many people have found themselves caught between two conflicting realities: one part of them continues to function, while another feels numb, panicked, shut down, or disconnected. If you’ve experienced this, you’re not alone. And you’re not broken. In the aftermath of a traumatic event, many of us try to “get back to normal.” We return to work, take care of others, stay busy, or even manage to smile again. From the outside, it may seem as though we’ve made it through. But our bodies often tell a different story. Trauma doesn’t disappear just because time passes. As Dutch psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk wrote in The Body Keeps the Score, trauma is not just something we remember — it’s something we carry. It lodges itself deep in the body, beyond words, beyond conscious awareness. It distorts how we breathe, sleep, relate, and even how we feel our own skin. When a traumatic experience is too overwhelming to process — especially when it involves violence, loss, terror; or the collapse of our family, personal and intimate structures of everything we believed in (our safety and confidence)— the psyche does what it must: it fragments. We may go numb. We may dissociate. We may become highly reactive, hypervigilant, or emotionally frozen. All of these are survival strategies. They are not signs of weakness. They are signs of how hard the body is working to protect us from something it cannot yet understand and incorporate.

Eventually, the body starts to signal that the trauma remains unresolved anf ofthe speaks when the soul can ́t.

Even when we think we’re coping well, unresolved trauma often shows up in physical and emotional symptoms that don’t seem to “make sense”:

● Trouble sleeping, or waking up with dread or panic

● Chronic fatigue or body tension that no amount of rest relieves

● A constant sense of threat, even in safe environments

● Difficulty concentrating, or feeling like your mind “goes blank”

● Emotional numbness, or unexpected outbursts of anger or grief

● Digestive issues, chest tightness, or breath that feels stuck

● Feeling disconnected from your own body or surroundings

● Sometimes, people report that they “don’t feel real” or that life feels like a fog. Others describe feeling emotionally flat, unable to cry or connect, even though they know something is wrong.

These are not psychological flaws. They are the body’s language. They are its way of asking for help — not to be rushed back to “normal,” but to be held, listened to, and slowly re-integrated.

Why talk-based support isn’t always enough

Talk-based support can be a powerful tool but not alwyas is enough. As trauma experts like van der Kolk have shown, trauma is not stored in the rational, verbal parts of the brain. It lives in the survival brain and in the nervous system — in the body itself.

This is why people often say, “I’ve talked about it so many times, but it still feels stuck.” Or “I know I’m safe now, but my body doesn’t feel that way.” The nervous system doesn’t respond to logic. It responds to felt safety.

And healing must begin there, in my opinion — in the body, in the breath, in the slow, gentle reconnection with parts of ourselves that have been frozen, silenced, or shut down for our own protection.

Swiss psychologist Carl Jung believed that healing requires us to bring into awareness what has been hidden — not to get rid of it, but to integrate it. To make space for the unseen. From this perspective, trauma splits off parts of the Self. These parts may hold unbearable fear, pain, or rage. But they also hold vitality, intuition, and truth. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting what happened. It means creating enough inner safety and strength to face what’s inside, without being overwhelmed by it.

This is not something we do all at once. It is slow. It is sacred. And it begins with listening — not just to the mind, but to the body.

Many people affected by October 7 and its ripple effects are suffering in silence. They may feel ashamed that they’re not “over it.” They may worry that they’re too sensitive, or that others have it worse.

But trauma is not a competition. And healing isn’t linear. What matters is that the actual pain is real. That the body remembers. And that there is a way forward — even if the world still feels unsafe.

For those experiencing trauma from direct exposure to violence, from witnessing the suffering of others, or from the ongoing sense of fear and isolation, is important to know this: The body does not betray you. It speaks for you, when words cannot. It holds the truth, even when the mind wants to forget. And it holds the key to healing — slowly, gently, one breath at a time.

Here are a few gentle practices to begin listening to the body:

Start with the breath. Not forced deep breathing — just noticing where your breath is. Is it shallow? Held? Fast? Let it be, and meet it with kindness.

Name the feeling. Try to discriminate. Say it softly: “This is fear.” “This is grief.” Naming helps create distance and safety.

Place a hand on your heart or belly. Feel the warmth. You are here. You are alive. That matters.

Seek spaces of safety. This could be a trusted person, a quiet room, nature, or a community where you can be seen without judgment.

Let your body move. Walk, stretch, sway — even small movements help signal safety to the nervous system.

Healing from trauma is not about going back to who you were before. It’s about becoming more whole — bringing compassion and softness even to the wounded physical parts, and remembering that your body has a role, even in its pain, and has been fighting for you all along.

Ruth Percowicz

Specialist in Jungian Psychology and Kabbalistic Studies