Nervous System 101

A joyful, goblin-approved guide to nervous system literacy (and why it changes everything).

Photo by Jordan Steranka on Unsplash

You weren’t taught it, yet it’s a fundamental piece of your human puzzle: nervous system restoration. Feeling safe, noticing when you’re not, and responding accordingly.

Your favourite pet knows it inherently, but us? It’s never been taught, it’s not common knowledge, and, left to our own devices, spurred on by the endless rhetoric of do-more, be-more, fill-your-time-with-stuff that surrounds every moment of every day, we’re all burning out, having gut problems, and sleeping like newborns (i.e. terribly).

You’re probably one of those people who can’t sit still for very long. Maybe you’re a fidgeter. A knee-bouncer. A too-fast eater. A what-the-fuck-happened-to-the-last-hour TikTok user.

Maybe, when you actually take some time out, it’s hard. Like, really hard. And coupled with the guilt of not being on, of not being productive, you don’t actually have a nice time. You know you shouldn’t be working, be doing, all the damn time, so you rest sometimes. But, work’s actually a nicer way to spend your time anyway, so let’s just crack on. Rest is for pussies.

No wonder adulting feels like a fucking chore.

But it doesn’t have to.

Say hello to your nervous system

She’s scanning your environment right now, trying to decipher whether it’s safe or not. And, depending on the way you were raised, the way your Lego bricks were put together in the first place, and the traumas you’ve collected along the way, there’ll be a particular set of things that feel safe to you, and a whole bunch of weird shit that really doesn’t feel safe.

More signals of safety? You’ll feel good. Connected. Balanced. Every function in your body will work better.

More signals of non-safety? Your internal goblin will be mobilised, ready for action, and you won’t feel all that balanced.

The problem is, most of us don’t know how to feel this stuff — and right now, way too many things in your environment are screaming ‘danger’ to your goblin.

Take me, for example. My boyfriend happens to live in south London, almost 300 miles away from where I live in Yorkshire. Getting the train and two tubes to his place is an inherently unsafe environment for my nervous system. It might not seem that way—public transport, despite smelling a bit weird, being a bit over-crowded, and priced like it should come with a damn mortgage advisor—isn’t, specifically, that unsafe. But for my little nervous-system goblin, it’s a war zone. So my mission then becomes: how can I feed more nuggets of safety to my goblin as I travel?

Photo by J W on Unsplash

Those nuggets of safety, which are particular to me and my goblin, are:

• Listening to Erik Satie via my massive please-don’t-ask-me-for-money-or-charitable-donations headphones (very important when navigating Kings Cross station)

• Reading a familiar fiction novel

• Regular bouts of the physiological sigh

That ‘unsafe’ response, when I’m in a travelling day, feels like pressure on my chest. Shortness of breath. An unnecessary panic when I’m packing. An arrival way too early for my train so I have to stand in the bloody cold.

So I notice those reactions to my environment—my goblin’s shifting into fight or flight—and respond accordingly.

Your goblin might respond similarly to those things that feel unsafe to you. Or maybe she cowers, runs away, and goes into a sort-of shutdown like state. Which might mean your nuggets of safety will need to be a little different to mine.

The nervous system ladder

The polyvagal ladder is the map of safety (or not) for your nervous system goblin. It looks like:

1. Top of the ladder → safe, calm, connected (you’re able to soften, connect, have good ideas, digest food, sleep well… We want to and should be here most of the time).

2. Middle rung → stressed, fighty, flappy, anxious, snappy (this is me and my goblin on the train—she wants to either fight my fellow passengers, or run away from them, but since she can do neither, she just low-level panics).

3. Bottom rung → numb, shut down, dissociated, meh (the equivalent of hiding under a blanket muttering “nope”).

The important thing here is that this is a ladder; you can’t leap from the bottom straight to the top. Has anyone ever told you to “calm down” when you’re yelling about the ridiculous price of train fares in the UK? Did it work? ‘Course it didn’t. “Calm down” is never a good phrase to say to a yelling person. And meditation, yoga nidra, restorative yoga, trying to ‘calm down’ when your goblin is ready for a fist fight doesn’t work for the same reasons:

You need to metabolise the state you’re in.

Depending on where you are on the ladder, metabolising looks different.

• If you’re in that middle rung — fight-or-flight, you’ve got too much energy. You need to express it. Think: movement that discharges.

• If you’re on the bottom rung — shutdown, you don’t have enough energy. You need to activate gently without getting into fight-or-flight. Think: movement that builds.

Both are forms of metabolising. One is about letting the fire out. The other is about sparking a flame.

Somatic work and nervous system regulation—both sides of the same coin—isn’t just about getting calm, this is about moving through the energy you’re feeling.

When I’m on the train, I need to find signals of safety, and as many of them as possible. This is the nervous-system equivalent of goblin tranquilliser.

But when I get to my man’s place, that sense of ‘high-alert’, regardless of how many cues of safety I threw at her, needs to be moved through—it needs expressing. This might look like:

• Shaking, stomping, dancing like a toddler on a sugar high

• Sighing loudly, humming, singing

• Going for a brisk walk with a dramatic playlist

Once some of that steam is out of the kettle, then I can lie down with a book and feel better. But trying to skip the expression bit is like trying to put a blanket on a volcano.

What if your goblin responds by shutting down?

This feels a little different. The world feels overwhelming, too much to deal with, or you might not be feeling much at all. You’ll feel flat and heavy. Disconnected from your surroundings, from the people you’re with. You might be endlessly scrolling without any real clue what you’re looking at.

This isn’t the time for stillness, either. You need some activation first (climbing up to that second rung of the ladder).

Think:

• Putting your face in sunlight

• Sitting up and rocking side to side slowly

• Splashing cold water on your face or opening a window

• Moving just one part of your body to music

You're lighting a little match. You're coaxing the goblin out of her blanket fort. Then, once you’re feeling more alive, you can start to unwind.

Remember:

- If you’re buzzing, let it move (expressing).

- If you’re frozen, warm it up (activating).

The key to nervous system literacy

Photo by Christopher Jolly on Unsplash

All of this stuff—learning to navigate life in easier, calmer, healthier ways—starts simply, and in one place: by feeling more (called interoception).

You, my wonderful friend, like me, have unfortunately been taught to suck-it-up and knuckle-down. To keep-calm-and-carry-on. To sacrifice. Because personal sacrifice builds your worth and your usefulness, and you definitely need more of both (your usefulness equals your value, right?).

But, if we want to improve our relationships—be less angry goblin around your kids, your partner, your colleagues; if we want to work more creatively, more intuitively, and get more done; if we want better digestion, deeper sleep, a body that feels great, looks great, and gets sick less often…

…we need to build our interoceptive muscles; we need to learn how to feel more.

Thirst. Hunger. Anger. Frustration.

Tiredness. Sadness. Grief. Pain.

Wonder. Connection. Joy.

Once you start building these muscles, you’re in sacred communion with your internal goblin and you can finally start to give her what she needs. The knowledge—polyvagal theory, basic somatics, the tools to help to shift states—this is easy to learn (and I can teach you), but feeling more is where we start.

Without feeling, we’re a piece of driftwood at the mercy of the ocean’s currents (or, in my case, hectic public transport). With feeling, we can actually learn how to surf (awful analogy, but you get my drift).

Improve your ability to feel by:

• NSDR / yoga nidra / meditative body scans. Guided sessions that help you tune in (and tune out at the same time). Try this one (or discover the library of classes you get inside the paid Joyful subscription here).

• Naming sensations during mundane tasks. "I’m brushing my teeth. I feel tension in my shoulders. My feet are cold." Simple, real-time noticing.

• Micro self check-ins throughout the day. Ask yourself: “What am I feeling in my body right now?” (Set reminders if needed.)

• Somatic journaling. Not “What happened today?” but: “What did I feel in my body today?”

• Tracking your internal cues. Keep a note of when you notice hunger, thirst, needing to pee, etc. It sounds basic, but this rewires attentiveness.

• Sensation walks. Go for a walk and list what you feel, not just see. E.g. “Cool air on my skin. Feet hitting the ground. Tension in my jaw.”

• Practices that play with temperature. Holding a warm mug, splash of cold water, heat packs — then noticing how your body responds.

• Intuitive movement or shaking. Turn on music, close your eyes, move only in response to sensation. A tiny rebellion against performance.

• Breath tracking. Can you feel your breath in your ribs? Belly? Nose? This builds deep, subtle awareness.

What now?

Photo by Lily on Unsplash

This isn’t about dramatic shifts in your life, adding more wellness-to-dos to your list (thank all that’s holy), or quitting sugar forever. This is about a real-life, a subtle, and—dare I say it—a joyful way to engage with your body and with everyday life, in a way that understands, protects, and celebrates your (and your goblin’s) energy.

Once we find the rhythm of this; once we learn the quirks and nuances of this system of ours, I know that life becomes inherently more joyful.

A simple cup of tea becomes a high-five to the universe.
A walk in the park feels like an entire-body reset.
Time with your favourite person becomes the fireworks it always should be.

And everything, my friend—I mean everything—gets easier.

So maybe the next time you feel your goblin getting a bit rowdy, or a bit scared, or a little shutdown, you’ll pause.

You’ll notice.

And this is where it all begins.

The more fluency you can build in your body for this stuff, the deeper the possibility of actual ease, calm, creativity, joy, and real-life rest.

This is the foundation of everything I teach inside Joy Unplugged.

Not just tools for stress, but a whole new way of meeting your life.

A nervous system–first approach to working, resting, creating, relating, and simply being a human in the world.

It’s 8 weeks, it's beautifully held, and the next cohort has a spot with your name on.

Not quite ready for the full deep dive?

You can join the Joyful membership right here on Substack, which now includes access to The Yoga Revolution — my joyful, zero-pressure online movement, mindfulness, and mindset space. Learn more about the magic you get when you upgrade here.

If this article resonated, share it.
If it helped you feel seen, forward it to someone who needs that too.
And if you’re feeling your goblin getting uneasy, go shake something.

We’re building whole new nervous systems over here.
Softly. Powerfully. And together.