In a world of surfaces, embodiment is an act of truth
We are drawn to life the way rivers are drawn to the sea — by something we can’t see but constantly feel. Beneath all our choices, plans, and performances runs a quieter current: the body’s sense of what feels true. It pulls us toward warmth, toward beauty, toward whatever deepens our belonging in the world.
Michael J. Cohen, founder of Applied Ecopsychology, called this pull attraction — not as emotion or desire, but as the fundamental force of life itself. It’s the same invisible magnetism that draws a bee to a blossom, a tree’s roots toward water, or a human heart toward what it loves. Life, he said, organizes itself through attraction.
Cohen also reminds us that we don’t have just five senses, but more than fifty innate ways of perceiving and relating to the world — from motion, temperature, and balance to belonging, trust, and affection. Each sense awakens through a specific kind of attraction. When you feel drawn to sunlight on your skin or the scent of pine needles after rain, that attraction is not random — it’s your body recognizing a relationship. Sensing and attraction are two sides of the same process: one calls, the other responds.
A magnificent view from ‘The road to the sun’ in Glacier National Park, MT © Françoise Vaal
A Better Experience with More Senses
Experiencing something through a few senses or through a broad range of them makes a world of difference. Think of watching a favorite musician or actor on TV — at most, your eyes and ears are engaged, maybe your imagination. But meeting that person in real life, suddenly your whole body is alive: warmth, scent, the vibration of voice, the subtle energy between you. From an evolutionary perspective, we are shaped to make contact with our entire environment through the senses.
I learned this vividly when I visited Montana. For years, I had watched A River Runs Through It, captivated by its mountains, rivers, and the slow rhythm of fly-fishing. But when I finally stood beside one of those rivers, everything changed. I could not only see and hear, but feel. The warmth of the sun, the wind in my hair, the altitude pressing against my skin, the scent of pine and water, the sound of the river threading through silence — no film could compete with that. I was completely captured. Experiencing so much natural beauty opened my heart. To this day, Montana remains my touchstone for aliveness.
When Life Feels Half-Dimmed
Standing by that river, I realized how little of life we often let in. So much of what we call “experience” is filtered — flattened through screens, climate control, and the hum of distraction. We live in a time that keeps us insulated from attraction itself. Our senses — once our bridge to the living world — are numbed by artificial light and information overload. Yet the moment we step outside and let the body lead, life begins to move through us again.
When many senses awaken at once, connection happens. It’s the difference between seeing someone through a webcam and standing beside them. Love, like aliveness, requires presence. Memories of such full-bodied encounters become inner medicine. I can still feel what my senses recorded by that Montana river — etched like a quiet code in my body. When life feels tight or noisy, I recall that day, and my body remembers what balance feels like. I may not return to Montana often, but I can follow the same pull: toward space, fresh air, water. My senses guide me back to well-being.
A Wider Embodiment
Astrologically, this moment echoes the same invitation. The sky speaks of embodiment — of no longer trying on costumes of who we think we should be, but feeling into what is genuinely ours to live. The planetary alignments encourage a kind of sensory honesty: to notice what feels nourishing and what drains us, what our bodies recognize as true.
We can see this movement everywhere — people daring to live without masks, societies reshaping around authenticity. When a culture begins to celebrate love and leadership in forms once hidden or condemned, it’s life itself widening its spectrum. The world is slowly remembering that every expression, every way of being, has a rightful place in the web of existence.
This is the same language the Earth speaks — attraction as guidance. When we follow what feels alive, we’re not indulging whim; we’re aligning with the intelligence that sustains life itself. Sometimes I think the world is calling to us through our senses — a quiet tug, like a river current asking us to remember the way home.
Reflection
What in your life quietly draws you closer to aliveness?
Where does your body lean forward with yes?In a world of surfaces, embodiment is an act of truth
Françoise