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Come Back to Your Body: A Guided Body Scan for Stress and Overthinking
There are days when my mind feels like it’s sprinting while my body is still back at the starting line. On those days, I return to this simple practice — moving attention slowly through the body, sensation by sensation, breath by breath. Not to fix anything. Not to force calm. But simply to notice what’s here.
When I guide this practice, I always begin with the reminder that there’s no ideal state waiting for us. We’re not doing meditation “right” or doing it “wrong.” We’re just meeting the moment as it unfolds — breath to breath, sensation to sensation, sometimes softer, sometimes louder.
So today, I invite you to feel the weight of your own body. Right now, something is holding you — the chair, the floor, the bed. Most of us go an entire day without recognizing that. When I finally pause long enough to notice the support beneath me, something inside unclenches. It’s like the difference between gripping the steering wheel in traffic and suddenly remembering I can drop my shoulders.
As I move attention from the head to the toes, I like to imagine I’m turning up the dimmer switch on each part of the body. In the jaw, maybe I’m clenching after a hard conversation. In the belly, maybe I’m bracing for an email I haven’t answered yet. In the eyes, maybe I’m carrying the fatigue of too much time on screens.
These aren’t problems to solve — they’re just places to feel.
And what I love about this body-scan practice is how each sensation gives me a chance to reconnect with real life.
In the shoulders, I might notice tension from holding my kid all day.
In the hands, maybe the buzz of sending off a big project at work.
In the legs, maybe the residue of being stuck in traffic or standing in line.
The body remembers everything, even when we don’t.
As I continue down the body, there’s always this moment where the practice widens — when I begin to feel the difference between the left and right sides. A little more warmth here, a little more aliveness there. Sometimes it feels like the sensations are shifting too quickly to keep track of. Other times everything feels still. Either way is okay. Either way is new.
And if the mind wanders — because of course it will — I just come back to whatever part of the body is calling for attention. Sometimes that’s the belly rising and falling. Sometimes it’s the heavy warmth of the thighs. Sometimes it’s that tiny ache in the lower back that I’ve been ignoring all week.
Breathing into those places isn’t about making the discomfort vanish. It’s about giving myself the space to feel without rushing to escape. When I practice this consistently, it changes the way I move through stress outside of meditation. A tense meeting becomes a place to notice my breath. A difficult conversation becomes a moment to soften my shoulders. Even an argument at home becomes a chance to feel my feet again.
As we close practice, I always offer a moment of gratitude — not the performative kind, not the kind that bypasses difficulty, but the quiet acknowledgment that you showed up. Whether it’s your first time or your 50th, each practice is new. Each moment is new. And the only requirement is that you’re here.
As you come back into your space, you might notice what carries over — a little more softness, a little more breath, a little more room to be with what’s here.
Thank you for practicing with me.
If you’d like to go deeper into this work of paying attention, we’re building a community over on Substack where these conversations continue to unfold.
May you be well.
And may this moment — just as it is — be enough.
Let’s Reflect Together
* Which part of your body is the easiest — or hardest — for you to feel during meditation?
* When you’re stressed, where does tension show up first?
* What everyday situation (traffic, a meeting, parenting, chores) could benefit from slowing down and noticing sensations?
* Did breathing into discomfort shift anything for you emotionally or physically?
Share your reflections in the comments—I’d love to hear how impermance is alive in your practice.
Follow me on all the socials
* Substack
* Website
* YouTube
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sitwalkwork.substack.com
View all episodes
By Dominic StanleyThere are days when my mind feels like it’s sprinting while my body is still back at the starting line. On those days, I return to this simple practice — moving attention slowly through the body, sensation by sensation, breath by breath. Not to fix anything. Not to force calm. But simply to notice what’s here.
When I guide this practice, I always begin with the reminder that there’s no ideal state waiting for us. We’re not doing meditation “right” or doing it “wrong.” We’re just meeting the moment as it unfolds — breath to breath, sensation to sensation, sometimes softer, sometimes louder.
So today, I invite you to feel the weight of your own body. Right now, something is holding you — the chair, the floor, the bed. Most of us go an entire day without recognizing that. When I finally pause long enough to notice the support beneath me, something inside unclenches. It’s like the difference between gripping the steering wheel in traffic and suddenly remembering I can drop my shoulders.
As I move attention from the head to the toes, I like to imagine I’m turning up the dimmer switch on each part of the body. In the jaw, maybe I’m clenching after a hard conversation. In the belly, maybe I’m bracing for an email I haven’t answered yet. In the eyes, maybe I’m carrying the fatigue of too much time on screens.
These aren’t problems to solve — they’re just places to feel.
And what I love about this body-scan practice is how each sensation gives me a chance to reconnect with real life.
In the shoulders, I might notice tension from holding my kid all day.
In the hands, maybe the buzz of sending off a big project at work.
In the legs, maybe the residue of being stuck in traffic or standing in line.
The body remembers everything, even when we don’t.
As I continue down the body, there’s always this moment where the practice widens — when I begin to feel the difference between the left and right sides. A little more warmth here, a little more aliveness there. Sometimes it feels like the sensations are shifting too quickly to keep track of. Other times everything feels still. Either way is okay. Either way is new.
And if the mind wanders — because of course it will — I just come back to whatever part of the body is calling for attention. Sometimes that’s the belly rising and falling. Sometimes it’s the heavy warmth of the thighs. Sometimes it’s that tiny ache in the lower back that I’ve been ignoring all week.
Breathing into those places isn’t about making the discomfort vanish. It’s about giving myself the space to feel without rushing to escape. When I practice this consistently, it changes the way I move through stress outside of meditation. A tense meeting becomes a place to notice my breath. A difficult conversation becomes a moment to soften my shoulders. Even an argument at home becomes a chance to feel my feet again.
As we close practice, I always offer a moment of gratitude — not the performative kind, not the kind that bypasses difficulty, but the quiet acknowledgment that you showed up. Whether it’s your first time or your 50th, each practice is new. Each moment is new. And the only requirement is that you’re here.
As you come back into your space, you might notice what carries over — a little more softness, a little more breath, a little more room to be with what’s here.
Thank you for practicing with me.
If you’d like to go deeper into this work of paying attention, we’re building a community over on Substack where these conversations continue to unfold.
May you be well.
And may this moment — just as it is — be enough.
Let’s Reflect Together
* Which part of your body is the easiest — or hardest — for you to feel during meditation?
* When you’re stressed, where does tension show up first?
* What everyday situation (traffic, a meeting, parenting, chores) could benefit from slowing down and noticing sensations?
* Did breathing into discomfort shift anything for you emotionally or physically?
Share your reflections in the comments—I’d love to hear how impermance is alive in your practice.
Follow me on all the socials
* Substack
* Website
* YouTube
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sitwalkwork.substack.com