Previous: Part 2: Interoception – Tuning into the Body’s Wisdom
As I deepen my awareness of the subtle signals from my body – Interoception – I also begin to recognize the importance of treating myself with kindness and compassion. Ahimsa teaches that healing is most effective when we approach our bodies and minds with the same gentleness and respect we would offer others. I came to realize that interoception and Ahimsa potentially work together, guiding us to not only listen to our bodies but to honour them with care.
The concept of Ahimsa—non-violence—is at the very core of TCTSY and is a cornerstone of my journey with trauma and healing. On the surface, Ahimsa is a principle that calls us to refrain from causing harm to others, but it is just as important to apply this philosophy inwardly, to our own bodies and minds. As someone who has experienced trauma, I have come to understand that Ahimsa is not just about physical actions, but about the way we engage with ourselves—how we think, speak, and treat our inner world. The practice of Ahimsa teaches us that healing is most effective when we approach ourselves with the same gentleness, respect, and compassion that we would offer to a loved one who is suffering.
For me, Ahimsa is not always an easy practice. The stories of pain that trauma leaves behind can create a deep internalized sense of shame or self-blame, which often leads to self-judgment. This was true for me when I began to notice that my body—once a space of strength and empowerment—felt foreign and untrustworthy. Growing up in a space where my voice wasn’t heard most of the time, I may have become introverted, which created a sense of disconnection from my own body—perhaps because I didn’t want to experience those introverted feelings. I found myself struggling to reconnect in a way that felt safe and supportive. My journey towards healing involved finding my voice and learning to listen to my feelings, allowing me to foster a deeper connection with myself. My body, which had been a vessel of resistance, now felt like it was betraying me. In my mind, I was still “strong,” still “capable,” but my body had different messages. There were moments where the simplest movements, even breathing deeply, felt like acts of courage.
As I began to explore Ahimsa more deeply, I realized that in order to truly embody this practice, I had to shift my relationship with my body—starting with honoring its limits and respecting its pace. For someone who had spent years pushing through discomfort, silencing my body’s signals in the name of strength or progress, this was a radical shift. I had to learn that true strength lies not in forceful perseverance, but in acknowledging the wisdom of my body, in listening when it says “no” or “not yet.”
This shift was not immediate—it took time, and I allowed myself to move at a pace that felt nourishing. For those of us who have experienced trauma, the process of re-engaging with our bodies can be slow and tender. It is not uncommon to feel disconnected from the very sensations that are part of being alive. Sometimes, we may feel numb, or we may experience sensations that are overwhelming and difficult to navigate. If at any point in your own journey, you find yourself struggling or feeling unsafe, I invite you to take a pause. If you need to take a moment, step back, or even put this paper down and return to it later – you are always welcome.
During my own practice of Ahimsa, I found that it was not about “fixing” the discomfort or pain, but about sitting with it, perhaps befriending it—acknowledging it as part of my journey and offering it kindness. I started to practice self-compassion not only in the way I cared for others but also in the way I held myself. Instead of demanding that my mind and body perform or behave in certain ways, I allowed it to simply be, without judgment or expectation.
In moments when my body felt too heavy or uncooperative, I learned to sit with it and offer myself forgiveness—knowing that I was not defined by my pain or limitations. I became more attuned to the delicate balance between challenge and rest, learning when to push and when to soften. Sometimes this meant taking a break from the physical practice of yoga, simply lying down and allowing my body to rest without the need to achieve anything.
The concept of Ahimsa in Trauma Center Trauma Sensitive Yoga (TCTSY) also speaks to the importance of being mindful of the language we use with ourselves. Trauma often leaves an imprint on our internal dialogue, which can become harsh or critical. I noticed that when I was in pain or discomfort, my thoughts would often spiral into self-blame: “I’m weak.” “I’m not good enough.” “Why can’t I just get it together?” These thoughts were a result of the trauma I had experienced and the negative ways in which I had internalized that experience.
Through my embodied experience of Ahimsa, I began to work with these thoughts. I practiced replacing harsh judgments with kinder, more compassionate self-talk: “I am doing the best I can right now.” “It’s okay to not have all the answers.” “My human experience deserves love, no matter what it is going through.” By recognizing this, I started to create a more nurturing internal environment, one where I could begin to heal from the inside out.
Mindfulness with Krish 