Proprioception and it's uses

Proprioception

 

If I could staple this word to my forehead, I would. Actually, I might just get it tattooed. If you’ve met us at the markets, you’ve probably heard me give “the sensory chat.” It usually goes something like this:

Me: “How many senses are there? Five?”

Person: Blank stare. Nods slowly.

Me: “Okay, so we’ve got taste, touch, sight, smell, and the other one I can never remember. But what about those kids who love being dizzy dinosaurs?” (At this point, I usually give a dramatic spin.)

Person: Still staring blankly.

Me: “That’s vestibular — that’s motion. It’s good to know, but forget about it for now.”

I’m talking about the kids who love rough-and-tumble play, who are always heavy-handed, who throw themselves off furniture, squeeze into tight spaces, or love bear hugs. They’re often clumsy, full of energy, and seem to break everything they touch.”

Person: “Oh my god. That’s literally my little boy. Have you met him before?”

Me: Smug grin.

That feeling of being grounded — of knowing where your body is in space — is called proprioception. There are more than five senses, but this one matters a lot. The reason I use the professional term is simple: if you Google “proprioception activities,” you’ll find what you need. If you type it into ChatGPT, you’ll get hundreds of strategies instantly. That means an exhausted parent doesn’t have to spend hours learning occupational therapy theory — they can just ask, “What proprioception activities would help my eight-year-old girl?” Try ten ideas for a week. If they don’t work, try the next ten. Keep it simple.

There are technically four different types of proprioception, but honestly, you don’t need to know that. What matters is that proprioception involves activities that put pressure on the body — things that make you feel grounded.

For example:

Bouncing on a trampoline = proprioception.

Drawing = not proprioception.

 

If we strip it all back, the science and experience show us something very clear: when you’re really angry, it’s almost impossible to calm down using gentle strategies. Breathing exercises are great for everyday regulation, but in crisis? They’re like using a water pistol on a forest fire.

If you’re at the point where you want to punch something, you’re going to do it — either appropriately or inappropriately. The goal is to make it appropriate. Give yourself or your child something safe to “smash.” Slam a medicine ball into the floor. Stomp like an angry dinosaur. Push a wall. Jump, run, squeeze a cushion — anything that uses your muscles and burns through that energy.

Proprioception helps you feel grounded, regulates arousal, and lets out frustration safely. There’s a well-documented connection between physical movement and mental health. People with ADHD, for instance, benefit hugely from daily movement. We often try to stop frustration altogether, but the truth is that frustration is part of life. We all get angry, we all make mistakes, and we all have moments we’d rather forget. It’s how we come back from those moments that matters.

When crisis happens — and it will — how do we help people calm?

Unconditional Positive Regard.

That’s the key. Everyone needs to know they will still be loved and accepted, even after they’ve lost control. We teach de-escalation in our courses with plenty of theory, but it all comes down to this: children and families need to know they won’t be punished for feeling emotions.

Anger and rage are normal human reactions. What’s hard is responding calmly to someone else’s anger. But when we forgive, start fresh, and don’t drag yesterday’s problems into today, relationships heal. Children learn that mistakes can be repaired.

Some people stay angry long after the rage has faded because they’re scared of the consequences. They worry about what’s coming next — a punishment, a lecture, or a rejection. We’ve worked with many parents who go to talk about emotions but are met with resistance or fear. The child shuts down or lashes out again, and the parent gives up. The pattern continues, and unintentionally, the child learns that their anger controls the adult.

The solution is routine, predictability, and repair. Everyone needs to know how to make things right. “You were angry, I was angry, let’s watch cartoons until we’re calm.” It sounds simple, and that’s the point. Simple works. This doesn’t mean there are no boundaries — there are still appropriate consequences — but we don’t punish feelings.

When someone is in crisis, proprioception is your friend. Even outside of crisis, it’s an incredible way to regulate the body and mind. It grounds you in the present, engages your whole system, and helps you focus on the now. You can’t worry about tomorrow when you’re running, jumping, or kicking a football — at least, not in theory.

So, Google proprioception. Try it. Experiment. Then forget the fancy word and just remember this: when someone is overwhelmed, physical activity helps. When someone is frustrated, they need a way to let it out safely. Model it. Show them how to do it. Give them options that work.

And one final thought: when someone — child or adult — is in crisis, stop talking. Talking doesn’t work when emotions are high. If you tell a furious adult to “calm down,” you’ll probably get hit. When someone is at boiling point, even kindness can trigger more anger. Offer a chocolate bar? Still might explode. Give them exactly what they want? They’ll still be angry. If talking doesn’t work for grown adults in crisis, why do we expect it to work for children?

When emotions peak, the goal isn’t to reason — it’s to stay calm, stay safe, and offer support. Once everyone’s regulated, then you can talk. Until then, breathe, model calm, and remember: proprioception is your best friend.