There’s a quiet power in the moments that freeze us.
A boy climbs a tree and discovers a nest with two perfect blue eggs. He feels nothing but awe—pure connection, being with the experience. But then, his father walks out the door, dressed for church, sees the eggs in the boy’s hand and snaps: “Put them back. The birds won’t come back now.” The boy obeys—but in the process, crushes the eggs. His father’s angry face imprints on him like a flashbulb. The wonder dissolves. Shame takes its place.
That’s when time begins.
Not clock time, but psychological time. Memory. Anticipation. Identity.
In that split second, a part of him freezes—emotionally, neurologically, spiritually. The experience is no longer flowing. He’s no longer with it. He’s in it. And that moment—now coded in his neural circuitry—will subtly shape the lens through which he sees the world, others, and himself.
We live most of our lives oscillating between two modes:
This shift from with to in is how trauma embeds itself—not just through major events, but through everyday experiences that become “small t” traumas. The moment you hit your head on a metal post you meant to trim. The moment someone laughs at your joy. The moment something says: You’re not okay.
In EMDR therapy, we look for these frozen moments—memories that become the lenses or filters through which we view our world.˛. They live not in the thinking brain (cortex), but in the limbic system, where our emotions and body responses are linked and encoded.
You can talk about a memory for years and still feel stuck. That’s because your thoughts can’t reach the lower brain. There are no pathways going “down.” But EMDR does what conversation alone can’t: it reactivates the memory, accesses the sensory and emotional imprints, and allows them to be processed and released.
We don’t just talk about the memory. We relive it safely—and transform it.
In trauma, three things freeze:
Together, they create a deficient sense of “self” that lives in reaction: I am bad. I am unsafe. I am not enough.
EMDR helps us return to the present. Not by erasing the past, but by unhooking our identity from it so we live in response: I’m okay, I’m safe, free as a bird.
Many people seek therapy because “something’s not working.” Often, they don’t know why. They’re not aware of the deeper patterns. But the body knows. The nervous system remembers.
As therapists, our task is to listen not only to stories—but to the frozen moments. And help our clients move from being in their pain to being with their return to wholeness.
By JV Shafer
“It’s all happening now.” That might sound like a line from a meditation retreat brochure—or…
Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) therapy is widely recognized as an effective treatment for…
By Dr. Amanda Martin As therapists, we’re always exploring ways to deepen the healing experience…
By CompassionWorks As we honor Autism Awareness Day and celebrate Neurodiversity throughout April, it’s a…
This month is Suicide Awareness Month. This week we hear from a skilled clinician who…
Welcome to Part II of this blog posting. We ended off last week with History…