The Body in Space: Understanding Proprioceptive Differences in Neurodivergent Experience
One of the most foundational, yet frequently overlooked, aspects of our embodied experience is proprioception. This is our body's internal GPS system. It is the continuous, unconscious sensory feedback that tells our brain where our body parts are in space, how they are moving, and how much effort is being used. It allows you to effortlessly climb stairs, type without looking at your keyboard, and feel grounded in a physical sense of self. For many neurodivergent individuals, however, this system can function differently, leading to a proprioceptive experience that ranges from subtle dissonance to significant distress.
Proprioceptive differences are common in conditions such as Autism, ADHD, and dyspraxia. These differences can manifest in two primary ways. Some may experience proprioceptive hyposensitivity, a kind of dulled internal map. This can lead to a constant seeking of intense physical input. You might see this in individuals who stomp when they walk, who crave deep pressure, who lean heavily against walls or other people, or who seem generally clumsy and unaware of their body's boundaries and force.
Conversely, others may experience a kind of proprioceptive overwhelm or discordance where the signals from their joints and muscles feel confusing or unreliable. This can contribute to anxiety in movement, a preference for small, controlled motions, postural instability, and a deep feeling of being unsafe or disconnected within one's own physical vessel. This disconnect is not a psychological failing. It is a neurological difference in processing that can deeply impact one's sense of agency, comfort, and presence in the world.
The therapeutic goal is not to "fix" this wiring but to build a compassionate and curious relationship with it. One gentle entry point is an exercise I often adapt for clients called a Body Comfort Map. This is not about diagnosing pain or tension, but about simply noticing areas of neutral or pleasant sensation, however small. The aim is to begin training attention toward what feels acceptable or even good, thereby slowly building a new, more nuanced internal map.
To begin, find a quiet space where you can sit or lie down undisturbed. Close your eyes if that feels safe. Start by taking a few breaths, not to change anything, but to arrive. Then, beginning perhaps at the crown of your head, invite your awareness to slowly scan down through your body. Ask a simple, open-ended question: "Where in my body, right in this moment, does there feel like a sense of ease, of neutrality, or of comfort?" Do not search for it. Just ask and wait. The answer might be surprising. It could be the weight of your heel on the floor, the soft warmth where your hands rest in your lap, the simple neutrality of your left earlobe. There is no right answer. The goal is to identify, perhaps, just one or two regions. When you locate one, gently place your attention there. Notice the quality of that sensation. Is it cool, warm, still, soft? Do not analyze it, just keep it company for a few moments. You might mentally whisper, "Ah, there you are." Then, if you wish, continue your scan. You are literally drawing a map of momentary somatic okayness. End the exercise whenever you feel ready, perhaps by taking one more breath and slowly opening your eyes.
This practice, done regularly for even a few minutes, can begin to create new neural pathways. It moves the focus from what is wrong or dysregulated to what is simply present and non threatening. For a neurodivergent person whose proprioceptive signals may often feel like static or alarm bells, finding these small islands of comfort can be a revolutionary act. It is a step toward becoming an inhabitant of your body, rather than a passenger in a sometimes confusing vessel. It fosters a sense of agency and begins the process of feeling at home in your own skin, on your own unique sensory terms.
