The Layers of Support Our Nervous Systems Long For

Recently, I spent time in community.

It wasn’t just being around people… it was feeling the net of support that community can create. There was space for me to breathe… to soften… to take a step back and rest. I didn’t have to be constantly “on”… responding to the needs of my family or tracking those around me. For once, I could attend to what I needed in the moment.

And what I noticed was this… it wasn’t only because my partner was caring for me, or that my child was cared for. It was because I knew that those caring for my child were also supported, and that my partner also felt supported by the community around us. There was a whole web holding us all. In that knowing, my body could finally let go. My shoulders dropped… my breath deepened… and I touched a rest that felt truer than the quick pauses I sometimes carve out at home.

It takes a village to raise a child.

It also takes a village for us to truly rest.

Most of us did not grow up inside a village like that. We were children raised without the layers of support our nervous systems were designed to expect. And for many, this leaves an imprint of hyper-vigilance… a sense that we must keep watch… that we can’t fully settle… that the responsibility is ours alone.

Ray Castellino’s Teaching on Two Layers of Support

Somatic pioneer Ray Castellino spoke about how true settling requires two layers of support.

The first layer is direct support… someone tending to us or to our child.

The second layer is support for those providing that care.

Only when both layers are present can our nervous system truly relax. Without the second layer, we’re still, often unconsciously, scanning for whether those supporting us are okay. Our system doesn’t switch off.

It’s a little like a hammock… one anchor point isn’t enough. We need both sides secured before we can stretch out and let the hammock hold us.

And for the nervous system, this layering is what allows the parasympathetic pathways to come online fully. The body receives a signal that it is safe… that nothing is about to collapse… that we can finally drop into rest.

Why This Matters

When we taste this depth of support, it’s more than a momentary relief. It’s reparative. It touches the places in us that longed for a village we didn’t have growing up. And it doesn’t just change us… it ripples outward.

A rested nervous system is medicine for the people around us. Our children feel it. Our partners feel it. Community itself becomes more coherent and safe when even one person rests more deeply.

This is why spaces of belonging… circles… retreats… are not indulgences but necessities. They help us re-pattern what our bodies know about support. They let us practice being held… so our nervous systems remember the village.

A Reflection for You

I wonder… when have you felt most supported?

What allowed you to soften your guard?

What does rest mean for you, in your body, beyond simply “taking a break”?

It can be rare to find these layers of support in our fast-moving world. But even pausing to acknowledge the longing… even naming what we need… is a first step in reweaving that net of belonging around ourselves and our families.

May we each find spaces where we are held… where those who hold us are held… and where true rest can finally return to our bodies.

© Fayenen, August 2025. All rights reserved.