If you only remember one thing

When I give talks about TRE the bit my audiences find most interesting – or should I say enlightening? – is when I talk about people trembling or shaking involuntarily in real life, after a stressful event.

It might be after an accident, when receiving bad news or after childbirth.

And yes, it is generally perceived as embarrassing or as being out of control, but this natural response is one of your body’s most effective ways to discharge the excess energy and return your nervous system to a state of calm.

It’s your body’s way of reassurance:

“I’m helping you get through this.”

You can't imagine the responses of relief I hear.

Once I spoke to a group of widows – some of them were shaking when they heard the news of their husbands' unexpected death – and who were so relieved to hear that they were 'not going mad' and that their body was on their side.

One client told me how she got bad news at her gynaecologist and started to shake – but as she had already learned TRE, she felt confident and reassured and allowed the tremors to go through her body.

And recently I spoke to a woman who shook uncontrollably after giving birth and credits this half-an-hour shake to not getting post-partum depression.

So if you learn one thing from following my input, whether it's here or on social media, please remember …

... next time you see someone tremoring after a stressful situation, resist the urge to stop them.

Instead, provide a safe environment by offering reassurance and encourage them to allow their body to complete its natural process.

This innate and healing process can make a significant difference in their ability to recover.

And if this all reminds you of a dog ...

... who's shaking after a stressful incident – you are right.

All mammals – and that includes us humans – are designed to deal with extreme pressure in this way; children still do it, as adults we've been socialised out of it.

The good news is, you can give our body the opportunity to shake off tension, aches, pains, anxiety, (menopausal) irritability, anger and so much more retrospectively and in the safe comfort of your own home.

And if this resonates with you, because you want to be in control of your health and well-being, let's meet for a chat.

Oh, and if you'd like to read AI's take on the subject, see this quaint little story below.

Remind them how to listen to their bodies

The old oak in the park had seen it all. Children's laughter, lovers' whispers and the silent tears of those burdened by life. But one blustery afternoon, it witnessed something that made its ancient branches sway with a new kind of understanding.

A young woman, her face pale, sat huddled beneath the tree, her body trembling uncontrollably. She'd just received news, the kind that shatters worlds, and her limbs shook as if trying to break free from an invisible cage. Passersby glanced, some with pity, others with a hint of unease, but no one dared approach.

A small dog, a terrier with a heart too big for its tiny frame, stopped and watched. It remembered its own trembling after a run-in with a larger dog, the way its body had shaken until the fear finally dissolved. It whined softly, nudging the woman's hand.

The woman, startled, looked down. The dog's eyes, filled with a quiet understanding, seemed

to say:

"It's alright. Let it happen."

And she did. She let her body shake, the tremors rippling through her like waves. At first, it felt strange, even frightening. But then, something shifted. The tightness in her chest loosened, the knot in her stomach unwound. The shaking, once a symbol of fear, became a release, a cleansing.

The oak, watching, remembered the countless times it had seen animals shake off stress, their bodies instinctively knowing how to heal. It thought of humans, often so quick to suppress these natural responses, to label them as weakness.

"They've forgotten," the oak seemed to whisper to the wind.

"They've forgotten how to listen to their bodies."

But then, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying a new message. A woman, a TRE practitioner, had been walking through the park, and noticed the scene. She sat a little distance from the woman under the tree, not intruding, but offering a silent support. She knew the power of the shake, the wisdom of the body.

She remembered a time when she too had felt trapped by tension, her body a battleground of aches and anxieties. Then she discovered TRE, a way to gently coax the tremors, to let the body release what it held onto.

She thought of the everyday stresses, the deadlines, the arguments, the constant hum of modern life and how they built up, layer upon layer, until the body cried out. TRE, she knew, was a way to shake it all off, to find a deep, restorative calm.

The woman under the oak, her tremors subsiding, looked up and noticed the practitioner. A sense of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the body's innate wisdom.

"It's alright," the practitioner's eyes seemed to say.

"Your body knows what it's doing."

And as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the park, the oak knew that a seed had been planted, a seed of understanding, a seed of healing. The wind carried the message,

"Listen to your body, let it shake, let it heal."

And the park, for a moment, held its breath, knowing that change was coming, one tremor at a time.