The self-soothing I've been interrupting without realizing it

Hey sweet friend,

I know it’s been a little while since my last newsletter. I’ve been working away on creating something I hope you’ll really like. More on that in an upcoming email. But today, I wanted to share an observation that I had this week.

I have never really considered myself a “fidgeter.”  I’ve never noticed myself bouncing my knees, or tapping my feet, or doing the things that I considered releasing anxious energy.  But I am a notorious hair-twirler, foot-rubber, and more recently, a leg-jiggler. 

So, I spent much of my time this week talking to people who were embroiled in some type of fraudulent situation.

In my job, I often have conversations with people trying to deceive, victims who can't see they're being manipulated, and heartbroken customers trying to piece their financial lives back together after falling prey to elaborate schemes. I'm the therapist, the mama, the good cop and the bad cop all rolled into one—and honestly? It's exhausting.

By the middle of the week, I could feel the weight of all that deception and desperation sitting heavy in my chest. My shoulders were practically touching my ears, and that familiar buzz of anxiety was humming just under my skin.  When I’d get outside the building, I swear I could feel my blood actually moving in my body.  I was on edge.

But then something interesting happened.

When Your Body Knows What You Need

I started to notice my body movements.  Like, subconscious movements.

I'd stand up to stretch my legs and find myself swaying gently at my desk. During calls, my foot would start wiggling under the table—not frantically, but in this rhythmic, soothing way. At first, my trained mind wanted to stop it. Sit still. Be professional. Get it together.

But instead of fighting it, I got curious. What if my body was trying to tell me something?

So I decided to listen. I started pacing at home when the anxiety felt too big to contain. And you know what? It helped. Actually helped.

Your Body's Hidden Wisdom

Here's what I realized: our bodies are infinitely wiser than our minds give them credit for.

When your nervous system is overloaded—whether from fraud stress, work pressure, or the relentless demands of high-achieving life—movement isn't just helpful. It's medicine. Your body knows how to discharge that pent-up energy, release tension, and regulate itself back to calm. But we've been taught that fidgeting, pacing, and restless movement are problems to be fixed instead of solutions to be embraced.

Think about it: we tell children to sit still, we apologize for tapping our feet in meetings, and we judge ourselves for needing to move when we're anxious. I realized I've done this too—placed my hand on my daughter's bouncing knee thinking I was helping her calm down, when really I was teaching her to look outside herself for regulation instead of trusting what her body already knew how to do.

The Sufi Whirling Dervishes have known this for centuries—movement as a form of release, regulation, and even spiritual practice. There's something deeply human about letting our bodies move in response to what we're feeling.  And man… I would love to spin like they do.

Permission to Move

So, what if you stopped fighting your body's natural impulse to move?

What if, the next time you felt that restless energy building up, you gave yourself permission to wiggle, sway, or pace? What if you saw it not as a sign of weakness or lack of control, but as your wise body taking care of you in the only way it knows how?

Your foot wiggling under the conference table isn't unprofessional—it's your nervous system regulating. Your need to walk around the house when you're overwhelmed isn't procrastination—it's medicine. Your gentle swaying while you think isn't weird—it's wisdom.

I’m learning that maybe some of the most profound healing can happen when we stop trying to be still and start letting ourselves move.

Your Next Small Step

This week, I want to encourage you to become curious about your body's natural responses to stress and overwhelm. Notice when you want to move, fidget, or pace—and instead of stopping yourself, try leaning in.

Give yourself permission to tap your foot during that stressful meeting. Take a walking break when the anxiety builds. Let yourself sway gently while you're thinking through a problem - or whatever that movement looks like to you. Your body knows what it needs, and this is an opportunity to trust it and let it do its thing.

If this stirred something in you, hold onto it—and let your body lead the way.

What movement is your body asking for today? I’d love to hear your story.

With love and gentle motion,

 Laura

P.S. If you know someone who might appreciate this permission slip, please forward it to them.  And save it for yourself for the next time someone tells you to "sit still" or "stop fidgeting." Your system is smart and is designed to heal you. Let it.