Modes, mudras – how do they work in InnerDialogue?

In InnerDialogue, a mudra is not just a gesture. It is a word within the sentence of a human being’s field. Each mudra forms part of a dynamic syntax—a living grammar of the body, psyche, and soul. It may arise as a noun, defining a core reality; an adjective, qualifying a nuance; a verb, implying an action or transformation; or as an object, something we hold, confront, release, or integrate. Some mudras act as punctuation, pausing the process or changing direction. Others carry a full archetypal sentence within themselves—complete, rounded, and indivisible.

Just as language works through the left brain to organise symbols and the right brain to give them emotional weight and narrative meaning, a mudra works through both simultaneously. It bypasses linear cognition and speaks to what David Bohm might call the implicate order—a hidden organising intelligence within the field. The practitioner enters this language not through interpretation alone but by resonance, as both the practitioner and the client are involved in a silent co-construction of meaning through touch, tone, and testing.

A Mode as a Sentence Fragment

Each mode (formed by a unique configuration of finger positions) is a sentence fragment. It opens a door in the client’s field. For example, one may test and find the mudra for “Primary Nourishment” or “Surrender” or “Throw it Off.” These are not simply concepts or diagnostic labels—they are felt states, embedded experiences, and active forces expressing themselves through the field.

• A mudra like “Throw it Off” expresses a verb: a need to cast off something burdensome or inherited.
• “Primary Nourishment” may act as both noun and metaphor: a return to the source, the maternal link, the centre of vitality.
• “Surrender” acts as a full sentence and an instruction: yield, let go, and stop trying to control the direction of healing.

Each of these has structure and rhythm. Together, when found in sequence or relationship, they form paragraphs of healing narrative—a somatic story being told by the bodymind.

Archetypal Mudras: Templates and Transcendence

Some mudras are archetypal. These are not merely narrative fragments—they are templates. They may arise as “The Goat and the Djinni,” “The Minotaur,” or “The Spiritual Turtle.” These expressions carry mythological resonance, neurological significance, and ontological instruction. They draw on the universal—not just the personal—and express a transcendent truth that is playing out through the individual.

These archetypal modes provide a full sentence—sometimes a whole paragraph or even a chapter of meaning. They give us a clear, symbolic map of what is occurring: at once psychological, physiological, and existential. They often operate at the highest level of clinical clarity, removing projection and guiding the practitioner toward precision.

As Jungian psychologist Marion Woodman wrote, “The body never lies.” These modes, when found and confirmed through muscle response, do not speak metaphorically alone—they speak truthfully. Their meaning is encoded in the nervous system, epigenome, and field simultaneously.

Research Support: Mirror Neurons and Embodied Cognition

Recent neuroscience gives some foundation to this way of working. Embodied cognition theory suggests that meaning is not just stored in the brain but is enacted through the body. Gallese and Lakoff (2005) note that the same neural systems we use for physical movement are used to comprehend abstract concepts—a premise deeply resonant with mudra testing.

Mirror neurons, first discovered by Rizzolatti et al. in the 1990s, allow us to read intention and meaning from another’s movement. When a practitioner performs a mudra and tests a muscle, the client’s system responds to the felt meaning, not just the physical contact. This is why mudras are not mechanical—they are semantic gestures. They speak directly to the unconscious system of the client.

The Practitioner as Translator

The practitioner must learn to listen through their hands. The mudras, when tested and confirmed, are telling a story. They must be heard. They must be allowed to form a sentence, and then a paragraph, in the order they are revealed.

When practitioners ask, “Is this about support?” or “Is there a reversal?” or “Is this prenatal?”—they are following clues not unlike a syntactic or grammatical analysis. But more than analysis, they are participating in a poetic unfolding—a language being spoken through the field of the body, unique to that person, but translatable through these symbolic gestures.

Each session becomes a dialogue in this language. A narrative of the unconscious becomes conscious, not via talk therapy but via field language—the Language of the Self. should be written.