When Scarcity Lives in the Body: Observing It in the Soma
- Peta Thompson
- Feb 27
- 3 min read

In this new paradigm, in the Age of Aquarius, we are witnessing a collective shift in consciousness. More than ever, people are recognizing that trauma isn’t just a mental or emotional experience—it lives in the body. And this applies not just to personal or relational trauma, but also to our relationship with money, wealth, and survival.
Financial trauma begins early. Even in utero, a baby absorbs the emotional and energetic field of their mother, attuning to the signals of safety or stress. If financial strain was present—if survival felt uncertain—those stress signals imprinted themselves in the developing nervous system. The cortisol release, the bracing of muscles, the unconscious contraction around uncertainty became a felt reality before the mind could make sense of it. Later, as children, we absorbed not just what our caregivers said about money, but what was left unspoken. If money was a source of tension, if financial conversations led to arguments, if scarcity was the undertone of everyday life, our nervous system adapted to this reality. Even if those circumstances have changed, the imprint remains.
The body holds this memory in the fascia, the connective tissue that wraps around every organ, muscle, and nerve. Fascia does more than provide structure—it holds history. The times we braced in fear, the tension of financial uncertainty, the sensation of helplessness—all of it becomes part of the body’s map. When we experience financial stress, it doesn’t just live in our thoughts; it manifests physically. The lower back tightens, the jaw clenches, the breath becomes shallow. If financial stress was a constant experience, the body learns to hold itself in that state.
These patterns don’t just belong to us. Financial trauma is often intergenerational. If our lineage carries the memory of poverty, war, displacement, or economic instability, we may find ourselves unconsciously repeating the survival strategies of those who came before us. The belief that money is scarce, that security is fragile, that financial success comes at a great personal cost—these narratives don’t just live in the mind, they live in the body. If an ancestor lived through famine or economic collapse, their body may have learned to contract, to hoard, to brace against an unpredictable world. And if that was never healed, that imprint can continue for generations—until we bring awareness to it.
Healing financial trauma isn’t just about changing beliefs; it’s about rewiring the nervous system. Mindset work can be helpful, but if the body still associates money with stress, lack, or survival, we will continue to cycle through familiar patterns. If the nervous system isn’t on board, no amount of affirmations or financial planning will create lasting change. The body needs to feel safe enough to receive, to hold, and to expand.
This is where somatic practices, breathwork, and movement become essential. Slowing down the breath signals to the nervous system that we are not in danger. Bringing awareness to the parts of the body that tense when we think about money—our jaw, our chest, our stomach—allows us to consciously soften the patterns of contraction. Releasing deep-seated tension in the hips, lower back, and throat creates space for a new relationship with security and abundance. Speaking financial truths out loud, noticing where our voice shakes or our breath catches, helps us uncover the places where money still holds power over us.
True financial freedom isn’t just about earning more—it’s about unwinding the deep, inherited patterns that keep us locked in survival mode. It’s about healing the body’s relationship with safety, security, and trust. If we don’t feel safe in our bodies, no amount of money will ever feel like "enough." As we tend to the body, we shift our financial reality. As we release the stored fear, we make space for ease, flow, and expansion. As we reclaim safety within our nervous system, we step into a new paradigm of financial well-being—not just for ourselves, but for the generations that follow.