03/06/2026
I love the way warm pavement feels after the sun goes down.
Something about it instantly settles my nervous system. The lingering heat beneath my feet transports me back to childhood—carefree summer evenings, staying outside until the streetlights came on, feeling safe, free, and fully present.
We often hear that “the body keeps the score,” and it’s true. Our bodies hold trauma, grief, stress, and unprocessed experiences. But I they also hold the good stuff.
The scent of a familiar place. A favorite song. The warmth of the evening air. A hug from someone we love.
I was born in Arizona and moved away as a very small child. I’ve only returned a handful of times, yet I wonder if my body still remembers those warm desert evenings. Maybe that’s why hot pavement at sunset feels so comforting to me.
The nervous system doesn’t just remember what hurt us. It remembers what made us feel safe, connected, and alive.
What’s something that creates an immediate sense of comfort in your body—something that feels hardwired into who you are?