Celebrating 20 Years of Body Trust
We’ve been working together for 20 years to build this language and philosophy that is Body Trust.
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For the ache, the care, the witness, and the ways we respond.
Bodies notice what’s happening in the world. We know you are feeling it.
They register fear, grief, and injustice long before our minds have language. And right now, there is a lot to register.
What has been unfolding in Minneapolis, including killings connected to federal immigration enforcement, is devastating. It’s destabilizing. And it’s not abstract. Bodies know when violence is sanctioned, when lives are treated as disposable, when official stories don’t align with what we can see with our own eyes.
We want to say this clearly: we stand against ICE and the harm its enforcement practices continue to cause. Naming that matters.
Grief, fatigue, and rage are ways bodies tell the truth. Being asked to bypass them, doubt ourselves, or look away is deeply harmful.
In Body Trust work, we don’t rush bodies toward meaning or resolution. We stay close. We notice. We tend. Sometimes tending is very simple:
– slowing the breath, especially the exhale
– noticing sensation without judging or fixing it
– placing feet on the floor and letting the body arrive where it is
– stepping away from news or social feeds when the body says “enough”
This kind of care isn’t about self-improvement. It’s about staying in relationship with yourself and each other. Community is what is happening in Minnesota. Community is what we need.
Eliza Wheeler, Body Trust friend, sent us this about her experience in Minneapolis:
“I’m in the middle of the ICE violence here in Uptown, Minneapolis – Alex and Renee were shot less than a mile from us. We’ve been teargassed by Bovino’s crew in the park on our street, witnessed our neighbors dragged through the snow (and caught it all on video). We’re doing daily ICE alert shifts at bus-loading times for the elementary school on our block (the waves to us from the bus-drivers and kids is the most heart-melting experience). We’re marching and vigiling in sub-zero temps when we’d normally be hibernating. The community gathering and organizing takes my breath away every unpredictable day of the week. Here’s my favorite sign from the big march that captures Minnesotans well – thought you’d appreciate it. When pressed, we’re a hearty folk. We’re muddling through.”

For some, tending also includes action rooted in values. Not from pressure, but from care.
If it feels possible, you can:
You don’t need to do everything. You don’t need to feel steady to help. Even small gestures, offered honestly, matter.
We’re grateful to be in community with you — tending bodies, grief, and care together.
LINKS FROM ABOVE: