The transformative power of embodied writing

Seven years ago, I began writing my first book without realising it would be the start of a much deeper journey. Since then, I’ve written five books all with the word embodied in the title, and each one has transformed me from the inside out. The more I have leaned into what I have now come to call “embodied writing,” the more profound the experience has become, both for me as the writer, and for the readers who later meet the work in the world.

What is embodied writing?
For me, embodied writing means creating from the wisdom of the body, not just the mind. It’s listening to and moving with my own cyclical hormonal nature: the rhythms of my energy, my inner creative seasons, and the larger cycles of the earth. It’s letting my heart, my creative centre (the sacral chakra), my voice and expression (the throat chakra), and other parts of my body lead the process at different times.

This approach is more fluid and alive than a rigid “must-write-every-day” schedule. It’s an unfolding journey where the writing and the writer transform together. Sometimes the book you start is not the book you finish, and that’s the beauty of it.

Letting the book change you
An embodied book is not something you simply “get done.” It’s something you live. The ideas, themes, and insights move through you, shape you, and become part of your lived experience before they’re written down. Or this might happen long after the book has finished.

With my most recent book, this happened in the most unexpected way. I thought I knew what it was going to be, until about three days before I sat down to write it (I could feel the words ready to pour out). The title changed. The direction shifted. And then I wrote the entire manuscript in just two weeks. Not because I rushed it, but because I had already been embodying the work for over a year and a half. I had lived it, breathed it, and let it work on me long before I sat down to write.

Now that the manuscript is finished, I still feel its words working in, with and through me, as I let them integrate before sharing them with the world in a few months’ time.

Writing beyond the page
When you write in this way, the process isn’t just about writing. It might involve voice notes captured during a walk, photographs that hold a moment’s truth, paintings that express what words can’t yet reach, deep visualisations, or months of private journaling. All of these threads become part of the tapestry of the book.

Sometimes the words don’t arrive until the body has fully integrated the experience. Other times, they pour out in an afternoon because the integration has already been happening behind the scenes.

Trusting the unfolding
Embodied writing requires trust: in yourself, in your creative process, and in the life of the book itself. You may not know what the finished work will look like when you begin. You may even need to let go of earlier ideas to make space for what truly wants to emerge.

In my experience, that’s when the magic happens: when you let the body lead, when you’re willing to be transformed by your own words, and when you allow the book to be a living, breathing creation rather than a static project to be completed. I believe this is how books can hold deeper truth and resonance, because they are born from lived experience. They carry the writer’s presence in every page, and readers can feel it.

If you feel called to write in this way, to let your book change you as much as it will change others, this is the path of embodied writing.

Photo by sixteenmilesout on Unsplash