So many journeys of healing and recovery have connection at their heart, connection with ourselves, with other people, and with the parts of us that may have been forgotten along the way.
Long before we have the words to describe how we're feeling, we move. We sway to music, clap our hands, stomp our feet, sing to ourselves, reach for comfort and play. Art, dance, music and drama aren't extras in the human experience; they've always been part of how we make sense of it. They mark our biggest moments, from newborn lullabies, to wedding dances, and funeral songs. An externalisation of teenage chaos sprayed on walls or unspeakable pain of war transformed into a play about a tiger. They help us celebrate, grieve, belong and remember.
Somewhere along the journey into adulthood, many of us begin to lose touch with that natural creativity. We become self-conscious. We stop creating unless there's a reason. We tell ourselves we're "not artistic". Yet in therapy, we're often encouraged to reconnect with our inner child – to rediscover curiosity, playfulness and compassion for ourselves. Creativity offers one way back, allowing us to access aspects of our inner world before our minds begin to explain, edit or make sense of them through words.
As a dance movement psychotherapist, case manager, and a toddler mum, I'm reminded every day that connection doesn't always begin with conversation. Some of the richest moments I share with my daughter happen without either of us needing many words at all. They're found in dancing around the kitchen, mirroring movements, roaring at dragons and me being absolutely cool and totally chill about Picasso creations of yogurt on the floor.
Watching young children is a powerful reminder that movement and creativity is our first language, yet many of us have learned to disconnect from our bodies in favour of staying in our heads. The good news is that our capacity for creativity and embodied connection doesn't disappear. It simply becomes quieter.
This is where dance movement psychotherapy and the wider creative arts therapies can make such a valuable contribution. While talking therapies are enormously helpful for many people, words are not always enough. Some experiences are too difficult to articulate, particularly when they've happened early in life, have been traumatic, or are carried more in the body than in conscious memory.
Research increasingly supports what creative arts therapists have long observed in practice: our bodies and minds are deeply interconnected. As Bessel van de Kolk coins, “the body keeps the score” and Kramer knew “art tells the truth”. Emotions are experienced physically as well as psychologically, and non-verbal communication carries a significant amount of human meaning. Approaches that include movement, creativity and embodied awareness help people access emotions, strengthen emotional regulation and develop a greater sense of self, particularly when verbal expression feels difficult.
Creative arts psychotherapists are trained to notice these subtle expressions with curiosity rather than judgement. Whether working through movement, art, music or drama, the aim isn't to analyse someone's creativity or teach them to dance or paint. Instead, the creative process becomes a safe way to explore emotions, relationships and experiences that may be difficult to put into words, as a third component to the psychotherapy process.
Perhaps that's why creativity has endured throughout human history. Before we had diagnostic manuals, we had stories, music, dance and paintings. Healing doesn't always begin with finding the right words. Sometimes it begins with a movement.

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