Movement, breath, and laughter: How somatic practices teach us to feel and listen to others
In a world saturated with violence and trauma, connection with our bodies, care, and tenderness are not escapes from reality — they are essential life skills. We spoke with artist, educator, and facilitator of the Reflect to Connect project, Joni Barnard, about what somatic practices are, how tenderness can be a source of strength, and how movement, play, and care can build bridges of understanding between people and experiences. At the end — practical tips and exercises you can bring into your everyday life. So read all the way to the end!
Could you tell us a bit about yourself? How did your life journey shape the professional you are today?

Hi, I’m Joni Barnard. I’m an artist and educator and I really love working with people. I am working primarily with performance, movement, and group processes. I’m deeply motivated by collaboration: ensemble work, shared learning, and what can emerge when people think and move together. I grew up in Johannesburg, South Africa, and now live in Berlin.
I was nine years old when apartheid officially “ended” in South Africa, and this and everything that followed profoundly shaped how I understand and grapple with power, race, class, and privilege, both personally and globally. I’m especially interested in intersecting histories and the “wheel of privilege,” and how these structures play out in our relationships, our work, and our bodies.
My background is in theatre, dance, and choreography; I also make music. Recently, my focus has shifted more to music and toward somatic movement practices and training physical awareness and intelligence. Queerness, queer feminism, care, repair, and inclusivity are central to my thinking, alongside anti-colonial and anti-capitalist perspectives. I move between these worlds — and the spaces in between — and that multiplicity shapes how I work.
How did you join the Reflect to Connect project? What caught your attention, and why did you want to work with it?
A friend sent me the call for facilitators, and I genuinely squealed with excitement! It felt like the project brought together everything I care about.
I’m deeply interested in how art and performance can create space for reflection, connection, and liberation. Much of my work revolves around asking: how can we support each other in feeling more freedom, more joy, and more agency?
I’m also drawn to international groups. Decentering ourselves and learning to truly listen to other lived experiences is a vital skill — and one we urgently need to keep practicing.
Why do you think this skill of understanding others isn’t well-developed in our societies? And how can projects like the Reflect to Connect contribute to it?
The neo-colonial-capitalist systems we live in thrive on disconnection — on the illusion that we are separate, fundamentally different, and unrelated. This fragmentation is deeply ingrained, and it’s simply untrue.
Projects like Reflect to Connect create rare spaces to counter this: spaces for listening, for reflecting on historical events that have shaped us, for sharing stories, for slowing down and for inviting an understanding of differences without fear.
For me, the project was also about learning. I come from South Africa, have lived and worked in Germany for almost ten years, and know Italy only partially; my understanding of Belarus mostly comes from the media. I was curious about tracing historical parallels and political entanglements — for example, how apartheid is connected to Nazi Germany, and how Nazism itself emerges from colonial logic. Building these bridges — for myself and with others — feels essential!

Did you manage to build these bridges during the Reflect to Connect project – in the group and for yourself?
Yes — I think it’s definitely possible to build these bridges through small interpersonal relationships in the group, but I also think it’s a slow process. Bridge-building doesn’t happen in a few intense days; it’s a gradual, relational process. That’s why I believe so strongly in durational work and long-term programs. But the connection and bonds needed to begin to build bridges can definitely happen in a few intense days.
I think the connection in our group often began very small — between two or three people — and then it grew from there. Creating the conditions for presence and connection is already a powerful step.
When a space feels welcoming, calm, grounded, and attentive, people naturally want to connect.
Was your work in this training about making a space comfortable and calm?
I see my role as enriching and enlivening group dynamics — cultivating spaces where people feel confident and playful enough to connect.
I think playfulness is crucial. The themes we deal with — political and systemic violence, oppression, trauma — can be heavy and overwhelming. Kindness and play aren’t distractions; they are vital skills and important strategies for reflecting on the past and envisioning different futures.
I also have a fun research fact: There was this research project that showed that learning through play significantly accelerates learning, that through play and games you can learn a skill 100 times faster, because joy and enjoyment activates neurological pathways for connection and integration.
In Reflect to Connect I offered somatic tools, games, and exercises that invite grounding, humor, and co-regulation. Once people feel safe and connected on a bodily level, they’re much better equipped to engage in reflection and difficult conversations.
How do somatic practices work? Can you share a memorable example from the Reflect to Connect group?
A very simple explanation is that somatic practices first remind you that you have a body and that this body carries intelligence beyond words or rational thought. That sensation is information. So working with your body means working with sensitivity and sensation and training your internal awareness — tapping into sensing and feeling. I’m always surprised at how strong somatic work is and how much of an impact it has on people when they can access it — how important it is to reconnect with our bodies on a daily basis.
And I also quickly want to say that somatic practices are not “self-care techniques” or “nervous-system hacks.” It’s more about “recalibrating” how you relate to yourself and to others.
Body-based practices don’t “heal” you; they re-sensitise you to relationality and connection, they re-tune your awareness to the fact that you are an entangled organism that is connected to other organisms and your environment — that you are part of the group and the group is part of you.
There were many moments in the project, but one I remember well: we did a breathing exercise where everyone lay on the floor with their head on another person’s stomach. This created a crisscross pattern, like a braid. The whole group — facilitators, organizers, participants — were involved. The instruction of the exercise is simply to lie and breathe for 10-15 minutes with your head on another person’s stomach and someone else’s head on your stomach. And obviously people laugh at the beginning because it’s awkward and strange. But also because laughing is a way to calm the nervous system as well. I watched everyone, and after 10 minutes, I realised we needed to go on for longer, for another 10 minutes because everybody was so tuned in to the group dynamic. It became a quiet, shared experience of co-regulation and trust. And it was such a beautiful moment.
Somatic work isn’t a quick fix. It doesn’t promise that everything will suddenly feel okay. It’s not about “do this exercise and everything will be fine.” Probably not. 🙂 You might feel many different emotions and sensations. What it offers is reconnection — resensitising us to our bodies, shifting energy, and softening the space between us. In a world saturated with violence and trauma, these moments of tenderness feel both radical and necessary.

Can you suggest, please, any simple somatic practices for dealing with intense emotions in everyday life?
- Absolutely! The first one that comes to mind is shaking. I think it’s one of the most accessible — gently but thoroughly shaking the body. Animals do this naturally after stress to release tension, they can shake for up to an hour to release trauma or even inflammation. You can combine shaking or a gentle bouncing quality with a slow body scan, moving attention from head to toe, or toe to head, or even isolating different body parts before moving onto other body parts. Notice what shaking or bouncing feels like in your head, neck, shoulders, elbows, fingers, spine, stomach, hips, legs, knees, calves, ankles, feet. Even five to ten minutes a day builds bodily awareness. The goal isn’t to “calm down,” but to allow emotion, connection and awareness to move through you without judgment. Regulation is messy — and we welcome mess in somatic practices 🙂
- Another powerful tool is slow box breathing. Breathe into your belly, staying relaxed in the chest. Inhale for four slow counts, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four. Repeat for several minutes. When holding the breath, try to release tension in the throat, neck and lungs. To deepen the effect, you can lengthen the exhale — for example, inhale for four slow counts, exhale for eight slow counts. This supports the parasympathetic nervous system, which is connected to calm, play, and pleasure.
When emotions or thoughts feel overwhelming, breath and movement can help you stay grounded — not by fixing anything, but by bringing you back to the present moment.
* The cover image uses a photo by Zee Hartmann.
