You welcome anything that comes with a body shift, but you stay a little distance from it. You are not in it, but next to it. This space, in which you can be next to it, forms in a few moments, as your body eases. “I can’t solve this all in one day,” you say to yourself. “I know it’s there. I can find it again. I can leave it for a while.”

Once your body is allowed to be itself, uncramped, it has the wisdom to deal with your problems.

The body shift, the change in a felt sense, is the heart of the process. But the bringing-up of bodily sensed knowledge—the “transfer” of this knowledge, in effect, from body to mind—is

Keep stacking the problems until you hear something say, “Yes, except for those I’m fine.”

“What would come, in my body, if this problem were somehow all solved?” Whatever your mind answers, you wait until you sense what comes in your body. Then you let that be for a little while.

Nothing that feels bad is ever the last step.

What is it, about this whole problem, that makes this quality (which you have just named or pictured)?

Your body is not a machine, rather a wonderfully intricate interaction with everything around you, which is why it “knows” so much just in being.

“What is this left-behind feeling? What’s really in it for me? What’s the worst of it?”