Skip to main content

Part I: What Happened?

Chapter 9: Warriors Returning to Our Senses

The next step is putting sensory detail back into our story—especially how our bodies reacted when things went down.

That’s how we begin to uncover the body’s version.

This means mentally returning to those moments of overwhelm—and tuning in to the sensations that were alive in our bodies at the time. Once we’re back in touch with them, we put words to those sensations and begin putting the flesh back on the bones of our story.

Remember: our body is like the black box from our time in Service. Even when our mind went blank, the nervous system kept recording, and has kept those records.

Now we’re going to go back through what we already wrote and add the sensory details we missed the first time through.

And hear the story our body has been waiting to tell.

 Embodied Redemptive Storytelling

Step Nine: Use the Seven Sensory Recall Questions. 

We’re going to revisit the past event, or experience, you wrote about in Chapters 6 & 7, and ask:

The Seven Sensory Recall Questions:

1. What was I smelling?

2. What was I hearing?

3. What was I tasting?

4. What was I touching, or feeling on the surface of my body?

5. What was I seeing?

6. What sensations were happening inside my body? (e.g., tingling, tense, numb, shaky, heavy)**

7. What thoughts was I having?

**You can find a longer list of examples of physical sensations here. Since most of us are out of practice at describing body sensations, I recommend opening that list in a different browser tab, or printing it out, and having it next to you when writing.

Now, go back to what you wrote earlier. Re-read each line and imagine yourself back in that moment—like it’s a daydream. Ask the Seven Sensory Recall Questions as you go.

Write down any new details that surface and add them to your story.

Here's an example:

Draft from Chapter 7: (The first-person draft)

A car is pulling up to me at the checkpoint. Looks like another Iraqi local. Middle-aged, male. I lean my head head down to the passenger-side window, point to my M4 and ask, “Ayu 'aslihatin?” <any weapons?> He shakes his head no. I point to the glove compartment and say,  “Aiftah hadha” <open this>. He seems confused. My eyes scan around, waiting for him to respond—wait, what is that? Is that a rifle barrel sticking out from under the passenger seat? Ahh shit. I think. C’mon dude, why not just say something? A voice in my head says "He’s not a threat. He looks like he's a father. Let him go to his work or his family" Another voice says "What if I’m wrong? What if he shoots someone on my team?" I notice he looks worried. I raise my rifle, point it at him, and shout down the road to my squad leader “Need some help here!”

Revised draft after applying the Seven Sensory Recall Questions:

A car pulls up to the checkpoint. The afternoon air is so hot it smells hot. Looks like another Iraqi local. Middle-aged. Male. My flak jacket presses against my uniform. My brown undershirt is damp with sweat underneath it. I lean my head down to the passenger side window. “Ayu 'aslihatin?” <any weapons?> I ask . He shakes his head no. He keeps staring straight ahead. I point to the glove compartment. “Aiftah hadha”, <open this>. He seems confused— my eyes scan around waiting for him to respond—wait, what is that? Is that the tip of a rifle sticking out from under the passenger seat? Ahh shit. It is. My heart starts pounding. C'mon dude, why not just say something? I notice a faint trembling in his rigid body. Tingles crop up on my arms. He's afraid of me. The power I have over this old man is suddenly clear. A voice in my head says "He’s not a threat. He's probably a father. Let him go on to his work or his family". Another voice says “What if I’m wrong? What if he shoots someone on my team?” He's starting to look more worried. I raise my M4 and point it at him—Dammit this feels wrong. But what choice do I have?— turning my head down the road I shout “Need some help here!”

Why This Process Matters

Notice how when I put myself back into the memory, and asked the Seven Sensory Recall Questions, new details naturally came out!

The goal here isn’t to embellish or “tell a good story.”

It’s to capture, as accurately as possible, what was happening in your body and mind during those intense moments.

Instead of trying to influence what shows up, we’re letting the sounds, smells, thoughts, and sensations resurface and come back sharply into focus.

This helps our survival brain make sense of what happened. It’s no longer too much, too fast. Now, we can digest those old emotions and nervous system messages, one bite at a time.

The more sensory details we reintroduce to our survival brain, the more vividly the past comes to life—and the more our nervous system can reframe its relationship to that past from a safe place in the present.

📄
SIDE NOTE: These details aren’t just personally transformative—they can be valuable when writing VA claims. Detailed sensory descriptions allow VA physicians to more accurately understand the pain and stress we've endured, making it easier for them to advocate for our needs. More on this in Chapter 11: Writing Successful VA Claims

I’m reminded of something Dr. Bessel van der Kolk wrote in The Body Keeps the Score:

The trauma that started “out there” is now played out on the battlefield of their own bodies, usually without a conscious connection between what happened back then and what is going on right now inside. The challenge is not so much learning to accept the terrible things that have happened but learning how to gain mastery over one’s internal sensations and emotions. Sensing, naming, and identifying what is going on inside is the first step to recovery.

Everything changed when I could look at my old pain without trying to protect myself from seeing it. Writing my story this way has helped me do that at my own pace.

It's like retrieving the black box from a downed plane. Even in places where our memory has blanks, the body’s been recording the whole time. This kind of writing helps us crack open that black box—not to re-live the crash, but to finally understand the flight.

We’re building the whole story now—one piece at a time. The body’s version is finally part of it. Nothing left behind.

Let’s keep working on that together.

Go back to your Chapter 7 draft. Imagine yourself in that old situation. Let it play like a movie. Hit pause along the way, ask the Seven Sensory Recall Questions, and fill in any details that come back to you.

When you’re ready—and your draft reflects what your body remembers—move on to Chapter 10: Two Antidotes to Pain

Additional Mission Support:

🌎
Take a hunter-gatherer walk: Step outside and explore the world through your senses. As you walk, ask yourself the Seven Sensory Recall Questions. What do you hear? What do you smell? etc. If it feels right, kick off your shoes and let your feet meet the earth. Now and then, pause—like you’re tracking something. Let your attention move through your senses, one by one. Enjoy the feeling of being in a body, in nature.

This practice not only feels great, it has sharpened my ability to recall and capture sensory details in my writing.

I think of it as hunting for the present moment.

As I walk, I’ll ask:

  • What’s the air carrying toward me?
  • What’s brushing against my skin?
  • What’s getting stirred up in me?
  • What does this place taste like?
  • Am I relaxed and ready for any surprises?

I’m tracking moments where I feel fully alive—living completely through my senses.

For me, this happens most easily in places untouched by civilization.

Few things in life activate my senses like being in raw, untamed nature.