The Beauty of Neutrality: On the Mat, In the Room, In the World

There is a particular kind of grace that comes with neutrality. It’s not apathy. It’s not passivity. It’s not some washed-out beige of opinion. Neutrality is electric. It’s awake. It listens with its whole body. And in the realm of trauma recovery - especially in modalities like Somatic Experiencing or TRE® - neutrality becomes not just a stance, but a transmission of safety.

Clean Space Is Not Empty Space

When we facilitate a somatic session, we are not offering an ideology. We are not offering belief. We are offering space - living, breathing, body-based space - for the organism to do what it knows how to do. When that space is clean - free from our spiritual jargon, political leanings, religious frameworks, or energetic interpretations - something sacred happens: the client’s system can begin to trust.

Not because we told it to trust.
But because we didn’t crowd the room.

The body, especially a body that has experienced betrayal, coercion, or violation, can feel the difference between being held and being handled. If we bring our beliefs into the room like a backpack of unconscious assumptions, the client’s nervous system may comply, but it won’t relax. It will adjust, shape-shift, fawn - do anything to stay safe. And this is not healing. This is performance. There is a lot of ‘performance’ in traumatised bodies.

The Politics of Presence

Let’s get uncomfortable for a moment. Are you working with prisoners, but believe all prisoners are bad and dangerous? Are you facilitating with someone in a religious garment, and you don’t understand their religion? A body size you secretly judge? A gender identity you don’t agree with?

Neutrality doesn’t ask you to agree.
It asks you to become aware.
And then, to choose not to impose.

Because the nervous system can feel your tone, your edge, and your exhale. It can smell your judgment even when your face is polite. You may never say a word, but the tremoring body will know. And this is why neutrality is not a theoretical virtue. It’s a biological offering.

Firm Boundaries Are Easier in Neutral

There is something ironic and delicious about neutrality: when we stop needing to prove or explain our beliefs, it becomes easier to set boundaries.

You don’t need to justify why TRE® or tremoring isn’t some kind of spiritual awakening.
You don’t need to defend why you’re not a healer.
You can simply say: “I’d prefer we stay focused on the body today.”
And leave it there.

Neutrality brings maturity. It deactivates the push-pull of ego in the room. It lets the facilitation become spacious, calm, and uncluttered. Suddenly, there is more room for the client to have their experience, not your curated one.

The Mat is Not a Pulpit

Let’s be honest. Language like “kundalini awakening” or “angelic release” might feel thrilling to us. But that doesn’t mean it’s supportive to the person in front of us. When someone is trembling on the mat, eyes closed, tracking the wild intelligence of their body, they are not asking for a spiritual overlay. They are asking for presence. Quiet. Non-invasiveness.

Even when invited into deeper dialogue, neutrality gives us the ability to ask before we add. It ensures our curiosity doesn’t become interpretation. It gives the client back the pen to write their own narrative.

Neutrality in Life: The Courage to Stay Awake

Outside of the “healing space”, neutrality is still a skill worth cultivating. Not because we want to be non-committal, but because neutrality offers us a pause. A breath. A chance to notice before reacting.

In a world of hot takes, polarization, and constant opinion, neutrality is a rebellion. It allows us to listen deeply. To respond with clarity, not reactivity. To choose clean, grounded action instead of ideological performance.

This Isn’t About Being Bland

Let’s be clear. Neutrality isn’t bland. It’s not emotionally flat. It’s not spiritually disengaged. It’s not a beige wall of silence.

It is sharp in its discernment.

Soft in its presence.
Wide in its welcome.

Neutrality lets us become better facilitators, better listeners, better humans. It lets us sit beside someone in their tremor, not fixing, not interpreting, not layering meaning. Just there. Breathing. Witnessing. Trusting the process.

And in that clean, unassuming field, something ancient returns.

The body remembers it is safe.
And that is the work.

There is the Sacred Healing.

Fiona Leibowitz ©