Meaningful Happiness with Dr. Scott Conkright
Meaningful Happiness is a podcast that unpacks the science of emotions, relationships, and personal growth through the lens of Affect Relational Theory (ART), Chronic Shame Syndrome (CSS), and Latalescence—the second act of life where experience, adaptability, and purpose shape our journey forward.
Each episode explores how shame operates beneath the surface, influencing our confidence, connections, and sense of agency. Through deep insights and practical tools, we uncover ways to rewrite our personal narratives, break free from shame-based cycles, and cultivate a life rich in authenticity, curiosity, and joy.
Join me as we dive into the psychological frameworks and real-world applications that help us navigate relationships, self-perception, and the ever-evolving landscape of human experience.
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Meaningful Happiness with Dr. Scott Conkright
Your Body Speaks Louder Than Your Words in Relationships
Beneath the words we exchange in relationships lies a hidden language—a rhythmic dance between nervous systems that shapes our connections more powerfully than what we say. This episode ventures into the fascinating world of Dynamic Vitality Affects (DVAs), the subtle patterns of timing, pacing, and movement that determine whether we feel safe, connected, or understood with our partners.
Have you ever felt instantly disconnected from someone without knowing why? Noticed that certain silences feel heavier than others? Experienced the confusion when a simple text lands wrong? These moments aren't just miscommunication—they're rhythm mismatches between two bodies trying to connect.
Drawing from polyvagal theory and affect relational theory, I unveil seven distinct DVA patterns that emerge in the first two years of relationships: the gentle approach of "glide" like a sea turtle moving with intention; the vulnerable uncertainty of "hover" resembling a deer at the edge of a clearing; the emotional urgency of "burst" like a border collie needing engagement; the protective withdrawal of "collapse" mirroring a sloth's conservation; the persistent "loop" of a hummingbird testing approaches; the camouflaged "override" of an octopus hiding true feelings; and the harmonious "sync" of dolphins moving in perfect resonance.
Most early relationship conflicts aren't about compatibility but about crossed rhythms—one person surges while another freezes, one collapses while another hovers. Learning to read these patterns transforms arguments from content battles ("you always/never...") to rhythm adjustments ("I think I collapsed because my glide wasn't met").
Whether you're navigating a new relationship or seeking deeper connection in an established one, understanding DVAs offers a powerful lens for seeing beyond words to the embodied conversation happening between two nervous systems. When we learn to move in rhythm together, we don't just communicate better—we create the profound experience of emotional home.
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Hi, I'm Dr Scott Conkright and I'm inviting you to something new Each week in Meaningful Happiness Conversations that Change you. I give a short, focused talk about a topic that affects all of us, like shame, boundaries or emotional intimacy. We then talk about it together. It's not group therapy, it's not self-help. It's a space to learn, reflect and connect with yourself and others. I hope you'll join me for the first conversation. Stay tuned. Welcome to the Meaningful Happiness Podcast, where science of connection meets the art of becoming. I'm Dr Scott Conkright.
Speaker 1:Today, we'll explore the rhythms that live beneath our words, beneath our thoughts. They live in how we breathe when we're close to someone, in the beat of a shared glance, in the tempo of our emotional dance. This episode is called how you Move Together is how you Love understanding dynamic vitality affects in the first two years of your relationship. In the first two years of your relationship. Today, we're venturing beneath the words, beneath the behaviors and even beneath the named emotions that shape our relationships. We're tuning into the invisible music that plays between two nervous systems in love, the rhythms that don't speak in language but in timing, pacing, posture and movement. This episode is for anyone who has ever felt close to someone one minute and emotionally miles away the next, without knowing why. It's for anyone who's ever said it wasn't what they said, it was how they said it. It's for anyone who wants to understand how the nervous system, your body's real-time emotional translator, shapes the course of your love life. If you're in the first couple years of a relationship, you've most likely felt the highs and lows already the pure joy of laughing at something only the two of you would find funny.
Speaker 1:The sting of silence that feels off. The confusion of a text that gets misunderstood misunderstood. The ache of a missed connection, even in a room together. You might assume it's miscommunication, and in part that's true. But often the deeper issue isn't just the content of what's said, it's the timing and tone of how it's expressed. What if the real language of love isn't verbal at all? What if it's temporal, rooted in rhythm? What if your relationship actually has a pulse, a rhythmic pattern that influences whether you feel safe, connected or understood? The easy magic of binge-watching a show and feeling in sync without saying a word? The confusion when a simple text like what's up lands wrong. The silence after a small argument that feels heavier than the actual fight. It's tempting to blame communication issues, but more often than not it's not about what you're saying, it's about how you're moving together.
Speaker 1:Psychologist Daniel Stern called these rhythms vitality affects the felt dynamics of our affective and emotional world that say as much about what we are saying without putting it into words. You did so as a baby, a toddler, actually throughout your life. I expand this into what I call dynamic. Vitality affects DVAs for short the micro movements, the pacing and the emotional timing that underlie how we connect or don't. Most of us have learned to prioritize words and ignore the deviate or overwrite them. We believe in words more than actions. Too often, like he says he's not angry or upset, but boy, he sure looks it. Or she says she loves me, but it just doesn't feel right. I want to help you get back in touch with what your body says in movement. It's an old language, one you were born with and one that you can access if you put some effort into it. If you're in the early stages of a relationship, chances are you've already noticed a few things the shared joy of laughter, the confusion of missed signals, the pain of silence that lands the wrong way. You've probably experienced closeness that feels effortless and moments of disconnection that come out of nowhere. Let me explain a little bit more about DVAs.
Speaker 1:Dvas are not the same as emotions and to really understand why, we need to go a step further back to the difference between affect and emotion. Now, affect is the biological beginning. It's your body's immediate response to a change in intensity, something sudden, sustained or surprising. Affect happens fast. It's a burst of sensation in the nervous system that grabs your attention. It's what makes a baby cry, freeze or smile, long before they know why. Affect shows up in facial expressions, posture, in breath, in skin tone. It feels rewarding or punishing or neutral, and it always has a direction. It pulls you toward or away from something. Emotion comes later. It's what happens when affect meets memory, interpretation and thought.
Speaker 1:A feeling plus a story is an emotion. It's the label we give to our inner experience, once we've had some time to connect it to context. That tightening in your chest becomes anger if your boundary is crossed. It becomes fear if you sense danger, or shame if you believe you are the problem. Emotion is what we talk about, write songs about and name in therapy. Talk about, write songs about and name in therapy. But it's built on the more immediate biological experience of affect.
Speaker 1:Dvas live in between. They are how affect and the emotions it gives rise to move through the body and between people in real time. Dvas are the shape and the rhythm of feeling. They are not about what you're feeling, but how that feeling is expressed and received in motion. Affect is the spark, motion is the story and DVA is the story, and deviate is the dance. Deviates are the difference between saying I'm fine while turning away and saying I'm fine with a forced laugh, between a slow, tentative step towards your partner and a sudden withdrawal, between a gentle reach for their hand and a desperate grasp. They are the felt in the body. They are what is felt in the body, often before you even know what you're feeling, and they're visible to others, even if they don't consciously understand them. Dvas show up in how your shoulders tense up during an argument, how you exhale before sharing something vulnerable, how your voice slows down or speeds up when you're scared. They're how your body says "'This matters', even when your words don't".
Speaker 1:Recent studies in brain and body science show that how your body reacts during a relationship might matter even more than the words you say. In 2019, two researchers, kuhl and Satcher, found that couples whose bodies were in sync things like matching heart rates, posture and breathing were more satisfied in their relationships than couples who just thought they understood each other emotionally, who just thought they understood each other emotionally. This supports polyvagal theory, which says your nervous system is always scanning for signals of safety, not with your thoughts, but with your body. It listens for changes in tone of voice, eye contact and even tiny movements. Basically, your body is always asking do I feel safe with you? And answering without your even realizing it.
Speaker 1:But polyvagal theory mostly focuses on negative states, negative states like fear, anger and shame, and how they affect connection. It explains how we shut down or react when we feel unsafe. That's important, but it's only part of the picture. Affect theory affect relational theory goes even further. It includes all nine of the basic affects. It includes all nine of the basic affects, both the ones that feel bad and the ones that feel good. It helps us understand why we pull away when we're scared or hurt, but also how we lean in when we're curious, excited or joyful. It explains things like why we feel so connected when we laugh together or why a partner's smile can make us feel safe in seconds, why shutting down doesn't always mean someone doesn't care. It means they may have reached emotional overload. Where polyvagal theory stops at survival responses, affect theory shows us the full emotional landscape, the push and pull of every feeling, how they combine and how they shape who we are and how we love. That's why understanding affects and how they move between people is so important in relationships, because love isn't just about avoiding danger. It's about building connection, sharing joy and learning how to move with each other's emotions in real time. Let's explore the most common DVA patterns and how they show up in couples in the first two years.
Speaker 1:Glide is when you approach with curiosity. You're not demanding, you're offering. You reach out with softness, giving your partner time to meet you. Glide feels like safety, like interest, like presence. You might place a hand gently on their back. You might start a sentence with hey, can I ask you something and mean it. Glide helps intimacy deepen. In musical terms, glide resembles legato notes that flow smoothly into one another, creating a sense of cohesion and connection.
Speaker 1:Glide is when you approach with curiosity In affective terms. Talking about affect here, glide is often supported by the innate affects of interest, excitement and enjoyment, joy, the two positive affects that pull us towards exploration, learning and shared experience. Glide is how those internal states move through the relational space. You show up gently, zero pressure. You ask hey, can I share something with you? You don't push, you invite. Glide is emotional mindfulness in motion. In real life you might send a meme to lighten the mood. You initiate physical contact slowly, fingers brushing, not grabbing.
Speaker 1:Another example would be you've been thinking about something vulnerable all day long. Instead of blurting it out, you wait until your partner is off their phone. Then you sit down next to them, you take a breath and you say, hey, this might not come out perfectly, but I want to try to share something. Your tone is soft, your body language is open. You're not trying to convince, just connect. Another example is that you might notice your partner seem quiet after a very long day. Rather than asking, hey, what's wrong? Right away you make them their favorite tea and you sit nearby without interrupting their silence. A few minutes later you may say, hey, I just wanted you to know I'm here. If you want to talk about anything, then you either leave the space or let them come to you. Again, it's legato in music.
Speaker 1:I think of ocean waves. I think of eye contact that says I'm here. I think of sea turtles. And why do I think about sea turtles? A sea turtle moves through water with grace and ease and intention. It doesn't rush, it doesn't flail, it glides. It's calm and attuned to its environment, responsive but unintrusive Sea turtles also return to the same beaches to lay eggs, symbols of emotional constancy in quiet devotion.
Speaker 1:Glide is the sea turtle gentle, rhythmic, always arriving without causing waves In the body. You'll sense it as, feel it as smooth, breathing, open posture, calm eyes, relaxed jaw and throat, a sense of confidence without force. Developmentally, it's supported again by interest and enjoyment. The affect system here is in balance. You can say it. Can I ask you something? It means that you can wait for your partner to finish speaking. You touch their back gently. You don't need control Again. All you're doing is offering contact. Why this matters is that Glide is the rhythm of secure attachment. It creates safety in and of itself. Glide helps relationships feel breathable, spacious, whole.
Speaker 1:Hover is the next really common dynamic vitality affect that you see in couples all the time. Hover is the moment when connection is attempted but the nervous system isn't sure it will land. Hovering feels like hanging in the air. You want to connect but something in you says wait, you might pause too long before speaking or ask a question and quickly change the subject before it's answered. Hover shows up in newer couples, especially when one person fears being too much, too soon or not enough. In dance you might recognize this, and in music as well, those moments where things are suspended like a held breath before the resolution. Hover can reflect a mix of affects Mild fear-terror, for instance will I be rejected? Or early shame-humiliation was I too vulnerable? It's not withdrawal, it's the body saying I'm unsure.
Speaker 1:Hover is a moment of hesitation, a reach almost made but not quite. You start to share something, then pause. You ask a question but quickly change the subject before it's answered. That is so common. Hover lives in that liminal space, the should I moment. It often appears in people, again, like I said, who fear being too much or not enough, which is honestly true for all of us.
Speaker 1:In newer relationships, hover is common, especially when past relational wounds make someone cautious. In everyday life it's those moments that you hesitate when you're reaching out. I was going to call, but you type out a text and delete it. Like I said, it happens all the time where you ask a question and then just change the subject Hover is vulnerability wrapped in fear the most common one. The best example is those hesitant moments before the first kiss, where you're holding your breath and hoping it's going to land right. It's floating. Another example you're lying next to your partner in bed. You want to roll over and ask are we okay? But instead you turn on your side and scroll through your phone pretending not to care. You want to connect but you're scared the answer might be something hurtful. So you pause halfway between reaching and retreating.
Speaker 1:Another example is you're going out to dinner and you notice your partner seems to be off. You open your mouth to say you've seemed a little distant lately, but instead you just ask how their food is. That's what I mean by asking a question and then moving on. I didn't really want to ask about their food. You touch your water glass, glance down and keep the conversation light, even though your body is full of the questions you didn't ask. You're half in and you're half out. It's intimacy on the edge of expression.
Speaker 1:Now I think of a deer. I think of deers when I think of this with the animal metaphor for this particular DVA. Why it fits A deer steps into the clearing, ears up, body alert. It's drawn towards connection, but constantly assessing Is this safe? One sudden movement and it pulls back. A deer doesn't bolt out of disinterest, it hovers because it feels back. A deer doesn't bolt out of disinterest, it hovers because it feels everything. It senses subtly, it wants closeness but stays on guard until trust builds.
Speaker 1:So in my mind, hover is a deer, curious and sensitive, but always ready to freeze or flee. You can feel it in your body as that breath being held, some fidgeting eyes, darting muscles, ready but uncertain. Developmentally it's often shaped by early experiences with unpredictability, where connection was possible but not guaranteed. Connection was possible but not guaranteed. Hover reflects fear and early shame In daily life. You want to ask your partner a vulnerable question, but you stall. You bring up something serious, then joke to lighten it up. You reach, but then you pull back. Why this matters? Well, hovering is the nervous system saying I want closeness but I am terrified If misread. It leads to trust.
Speaker 1:Burst is urgency. That's the other DVA. The third one You've tried glide, you've tried hover, you haven't been met. Something in you surges forward with urgency. Can you just say something? Burst is what happens when emotional energy spills over the edges.
Speaker 1:Burst happens when someone has tried glide and hover and hasn't been met. So they surge forward, they interrupt, they text three times in a row, they say too much all at once. Burst can feel overwhelming, but it comes from longing. It's the body saying please respond to me. In couples, burst often happens when one partner feels invisible. You leap, you pour it all out, you double text, triple text. Can you answer me? It's urgent, messy, but it comes from a deep, deep longing. It's crying on FaceTime when you didn't plan to.
Speaker 1:Another example is you're pacing around after a fight. Your phone is in your hand. You sent a long paragraph when you meant to stay calm. You follow up with another text and then one more. Your body feels hot. You know it's too much, but you just can't hold it in. That's burst.
Speaker 1:Another example is when your partner walks in late. Again, you've stayed quiet about it before, but this time the words come up fast. You are always late. I feel like I don't even matter to you. You're not trying to hurt them like I don't even matter to you. You're not trying to hurt them, you're trying to be seen. Fireworks it's an emotional downpour. It's a love song screamed through the car window.
Speaker 1:What animal goes with this. The animal that comes to mind for me is the border collie. Why it fits A border collie is brilliant, loyal and high energy. When it wants engagement, it needs engagement. If it feels ignored or caged in, it might bark nonstop. It might herd shadows or sprint in circles. It's not being dramatic, it's trying to get its needs met in the only way it knows how.
Speaker 1:Burst is the border collie Urgent, intense, deeply in need of connection In your body. It's quick, shallow, breath flushed, face, tight, jaw, hands gesturing, voice raised or fast. Developmentally. It can come from various environments where one had to fight to be heard. It reflects a surge of distress or anger, often combined with genuine interest. Those are those moments when you send three texts in a row, you cry. During a disagreement, you blurt out why don't you ever listen to me? When your attempts to glide or hover have failed is when you use burst.
Speaker 1:Burst looks like too much, but it's often unacknowledged, longing. It's intensely asking do I matter to you? Now collapse is when your energy drops. Now collapse is when your a choice. It's the body protecting itself in the early years of a relationship and collapse can be mistaken for disinterest, but it's often the residue of too many mismatched rhythms. From an evolutionary perspective, this resembles the freeze response, the fight-flight or freeze response, the fight-flight or freeze response, the polyvagal response, a survival strategy as ancient as the animal kingdom itself.
Speaker 1:Honestly, collapse is marked by a drop in neurofiring, often followed by sustained distress or shame. It may be linked with Tompkins' concept of negative affect overload, too much pain, too little relief. The body conserves, the self recedes. The body says enough. It doesn't mean you don't care, it means you've run out of ways to ask. For example, you're in the middle of a tense conversation. You feel yourself getting quieter, your gaze falling. You say I don't want to do this right now. But it's not a boundary, it's a retreat. You feel small, like you don't even belong in the room anymore. Another example is after repeated disconnection, you stop reaching out, you cancel plans, you stop initiating texts, not because you're over it, but because every attempt at closeness felt like too much. You shut down. You say you know what, never mind, it's not because you don't care, but because actually you cared too much. It didn't feel seen at all. Canceling plans without explaining, watching TikToks all day long after a fight.
Speaker 1:Collapse is a freeze state. It feels like numbness, but it's actually protection. Like numbness, but it's actually protection. With your duvet over your head, airplane mode on everything, the vibe is basically a screen dimming a slow fade, the sigh after trying for too long. My animal for this is the sloth. Why? Well, because it fits. Sloths move slowly, not out of laziness but out of conservation. That's just what they do. They have limited energy and they use it wisely. When overstimulated, they withdraw into a stillness. Collapse is the emotional version of this. It's not again disinterest, it's just protection.
Speaker 1:Collapse is the sloth, gentle, quiet and withdrawing to stay safe In the body. It's that slumped posture, shallow, breathing head down, what I call the slump of shame flat tone, feeling of heaviness or numbness. Developmental roots are generally around overwhelming affect without it ever being repaired. So much distress, shame or fear. In daily life you tend to go quiet, like mid conversation. You might say you know what. It really doesn't matter when it clearly does. You know it really doesn't matter when it clearly does. You disappear into your phone. Your energy drops completely. Why does this matter? The reason I'm explaining this to you is that collapse isn't withdrawal. Again, it's protection. It says I've tried and now I need to disappear and stay safe. Let's move on now to the loop.
Speaker 1:Loop is repetition. You keep trying the same move, hoping it lands. You keep offering the same kind of connection, but it rarely succeeds. You might keep asking your partner are you okay In slightly different ways? Are you okay? Your partner, are you okay In slightly different ways? You okay, hey, you okay. Or you tell the story three different times, hoping this time they laugh, they'll get it this time.
Speaker 1:Looping happens when we're not sure if we're being received. In couples, looping can wear down patients, but what's really happening is a nervous system asking hey, can you hear me yet? Looping is often fueled by a combination of interest when you're trying to engage, distress because of lack of reciprocation and fear because you're anticipating rejection. The affect is urgent cycling. Loop is how a nervous system clings when synchrony fails. You sure you're okay? Like in real life, you replay the same story with different emphasis. You repeat your needs, hoping this time they actually hear it.
Speaker 1:Looping looks annoying, but again, it's just an attempt at getting heard. A real life example is you keep telling the same story, you keep adding new details, watching their face for a smile. You just want to know if they're with you, but they're not giving you much back. Another example is you've asked are you okay? Three times in that evening. You try again, but this time you say, hey, you've just seemed kind of off lately, is something going on? You say, hey, you've just seemed kind of off lately, is something going on? You're still fishing for connection. It's like a vinyl record skipping a song. We played emotional deja vu. But you're curious about what animal I picked for this. Well, what came to mind for me is a hummingbird. Hummingbirds are persistent, they hover, they re-approach, they test angles. Their movements are fast, curious and hopeful.
Speaker 1:In a relationship, looping feels like that Small, small, repeated efforts to connect, to find the right frequency, to land Loop is the hummingbird Repetitive, searching and honestly, quietly hopeful. The vibe for this is that one sad song on repeat, ghosting, then un-ghosting again In the body. It's restless energy, it's unresolved tension, a cycling of behavior, slight anxiety, unsure attention, and its developmental roots come from uncertainty about being received. It's also tied to genuine interest, tied with distress and often with shame. You keep checking in, you keep asking are you okay? Over and over and over and over and over and over and over, you want to connect. The problem is is that our nervous system wants it to work, but if it's not working, it gets amplified and it keeps getting repeated. It needs to be met so that it can calm down. Lastly, override not lastly, the next one sorry override is when you push through discomfort to appear okay. This is when you smile through frustration, you crack jokes and you really just want to cry. Or you act fine because you're afraid that showing real feeling will drive your partner away.
Speaker 1:Override is a protective deviant. In early relationships. It's very common, especially for people who grew up needing to hide their needs in order to stay close to others. But override creates a false rhythm. It keeps your partner from knowing the real you. Override often masks fear or shame. The nervous system knows connection is at risk, is at risk, so it trades authenticity for acceptability. It's the embodiment of a script Tompkins terms for the behavioral strategies we adapt to manage feelings, to manage affect.
Speaker 1:So in real life, let's say you're hurt by your partner. They forgot something important, but instead of saying so, you make a joke Guess I'm forgettable, huh? You laugh even though your chest feels tight. You're performing okayness. Another example is when you're feeling disconnected, but when your partner asks how you're doing, you smile and say oh, I'm good, you know, I'm just listen, I'm just tired. You've gotten so good at appearing fine that even you forget to check in with what's underneath. It's a stage smile, it's a polished mask, the quiet sacrifice of truth for peace. The animal what came to mind is an octopus. The octopus is a master of camouflage. It can change shape, color and texture to fit its environment. It adapts quickly, too quickly sometimes, just to blend in for safety.
Speaker 1:In override, the self bends to match what feels acceptable, even at the cost of authenticity. Override is the octopus fluid, adaptive and hiding real emotion to survive connection or the fear of disconnection. You pretend you're fine when you're falling apart. You laugh instead of cry. It's whatever. Hey, listen, I'm chill. You keep the peace at the expense of honesty. Become the cool partner who never gets upset. Override is emotional masking. The vibe is like Instagram highlight reels Self-deprecating humor when you're actually really hurting, hurting inside. When you're actually really hurting, hurting inside In the body. It's that tight smile, shallow, breathing Voice was cheerful, but if you heard it carefully, it was disconnected and it comes with a stiff body. And it's often learned early in life when you find out that expressing real feelings led to rejection. So it's driven by unexpressed anger, shame or fear. Override can maintain peace, but at the cost of truth. It's a false rhythm that keeps real intimacy out of reach.
Speaker 1:Sync Sync is the one that we want. It's the resonant flow. Your body feels relaxed but awake. Your breath is steady. It matches the rhythm of the moment. Eye contact feels natural, not forced. There's a felt sense of being with, without needing to reach or retreat. Movements flow together and your body knows what the other is doing without needing to think about it. You're not analyzing, you're not scanning for danger or for validation. You're simply present and so are they.
Speaker 1:Sync is the product of attunement. It happens when two nervous systems learn to read and respond to each other in a safe and ongoing way. It's supported by enjoyment, interest and the experience of co-regulation, the ability to calm and energize each other through connection. In early life, sync forms between a caregiver and an infant, when smiles are returned, cries are soothed and gaze is met with warmth. As adults, we seek the same pattern nervous system harmony.
Speaker 1:For example, you're making dinner together without speaking much. One of you grabs the olive oil just as the other reaches for the pan. There's no need to coordinate, it just flows, the kitchen hums and so do you. You feel connected, without needing to explain why. Another example is you're curled up watching a movie. Your partner shifts and you instinctively pull the blanket over them. They smile before you even look. You laugh at the same time, at the same lines. You feel completely at ease. You don't need words to know you're both in the same emotional space. Lastly, another example let's say you're walking down a busy street Without talking. Your bodies are just adjusting to the rhythm of what's going on. Your pace slows down, your hands find each other, your body mirrors the rhythm of the crowd, but you both move with a shared purpose. It's not about the destination, it's the quiet choreography of being together.
Speaker 1:Sync is the goal of all relational movement. Itement sync feels extraordinary. It's the experience of being seen, met, moved with, not just emotionally but physiologically. Every deviate, glide, hover, burst, collapse, loop override is either a path towards sync or a reaction to the loss of it, or a signal that the rhythm has been broken. When sync is restored, even briefly, the body relaxes and the relationship feels like a place where you can breathe again. Sync is the embodiment of feeling home.
Speaker 1:What's my animal for that one? Well, the dolphin. Dolphins move in synchrony, effortlessly navigating waves, weaving in and out of each other's paths with grace. They're deeply social, intelligent and attuned to the rhythms of the pod. They vocalize, mirror and co-regulate. They know when to surface and when to dive together. Sync is the dolphin Fluid relational, deeply attuned and joyful in its motion.
Speaker 1:Another one that came to mind are starlings. Starlings when they're flying. It's called a murmuration. A murmuration is a swirling, seamless dance of starlings, thousands of birds, sometimes moving in perfect harmony, shifting together direction without collision, without hesitation. No single bird leads, instead, each one is tuned into its closest neighbors, responding within milliseconds to the tiniest movements. That's what sync feels like in a relationship Two nervous systems moving in fluid, moment-to-moment resonance. Not because of logic or language, but because of deep attunement. You breathe together, you pause together, you move together. There's no need to explain, only to feel. Sync is murmuration relational flight, guided by trust, not control. You don't move because someone told you to. You move because you're in tune. This metaphor captures the nonverbal, shared rhythm of sync better than almost any other the quiet intelligence of bodies in flow, shaped not by force but by connection, both dolphins and starlings.
Speaker 1:These patterns can look different depending on the culture you grew up in. Different cultures have different ideas about what emotions are good and acceptable to show. For example, in many Western cultures like the US, for example, in many Western cultures like the US, people often value big energy and expressiveness. So DVA patterns like burst, where emotions come out fast and strong, might be seen as passionate and really honest. But in cultures that value calm, quiet, emotional control, like some East Asian or Scandinavian cultures, people may lean more towards glide or hover, offering connection more gently and waiting carefully before responding. In those places, hovering isn't a sign of fear. It can be a respectful way to stay balanced and thoughtful. In other words, your emotional rhythm is shaped not just by who you are, but also by where you learned to feel.
Speaker 1:Here's the key. Your partner has their own DVA rhythms and most conflicts in the first few years are not about values or compatibility. They're about timing mismatches. One person surges, the other freezes, one collapses, the other hovers. These crossed rhythms can create a feeling of emotional distance, even when you love each other deeply. Learning to identify your own DVA patterns and your it gives you the ability to pause a fight and say hmm, I think I collapsed because I didn't feel you met my glide. I think I'm overriding right now because actually I'm scared you're going to pull away if I show how much this really matters to me. Actually, I'm scared you're going to pull away if I show how much this really matters to me. When couples learn to read each other's rhythms, something shifts. The goal is no longer to win or to explain. It becomes about syncing up, about feeling each other's tempo, about restoring the beat when it breaks. This is intimacy at its most embodied. Not just understanding each other, but moving in time together. And when that happens, even briefly, you don't just feel close, you feel home.
Speaker 1:To really understand dynamic vitality, affects, we need to untangle them from both affects and emotions, because they're not the same thing. Let's use music as a metaphor. Imagine that affects are like your Spotify playlist. Each one has its own emotional mood or tone, like joy, anger, curiosity, sadness. We all have those songs that we play for those moments. These playlists are built into your biology. You didn't create them. They come preloaded in the nervous system. Just like a playlist shapes the vibe of your whole day, an affect shapes your inner experience of a moment. Emotions are the individual songs that play from those playlists. Each song is a mix of your current feelings, your memories and the meaning you gave it. A sad playlist might include different songs, one that feels heavy and hopeless and another that feels perhaps, let's say, bittersweet and nostalgic. That's emotion, specific, story-driven and shaped uniquely by you. Everybody's going to have the same affects but different emotions. Everybody's going to have the same playlist but different songs, because I know I'm mixing metaphors and all that here, but we essentially write our own songs. Our emotions are the songs that we sing. Affects are the playlist. Affects are basically are we going to write a heavy metal song today? Are we going to do like a full energy song? Are we doing a sad song? Are we doing an angry song? Are we doing a song that's full of curiosity and so forth?
Speaker 1:Returning now to DVAs DVAs are how you respond to the music. Are you dancing, sitting still, skipping the song halfway through it, singing along quietly or blasting it with the windows down? That's your DVA. Dvas are the tempo, shape and motion of feeling in your body. They're the difference between saying I'm fine while going totally silent and yelling, saying I'm fine while going totally silent and yelling I'm fine through gritted teeth and tears. The words are the same. The emotion might even be similar, but the rhythm, the way the affect is moving through you is totally different. Dvas show up in your tone of voice, your pace of speech, your melody, your facial expressions, your breathing patterns, the way your body leans in or pulls back. They are how your feelings travel between you and someone else, how they move through time and space. Dvas don't just describe what you feel. They shape how your partner feels you feeling it.
Speaker 1:And when two people can move in rhythm with each other's devias, something beautiful happens. You don't just understand each other, you start to feel each other's tempo, and that's when love becomes less about saying the right thing and more about the pacing and spacing and melody of what you're saying to each other and prioritizing that. Most relationship breakdowns in the first two years aren't about love. They're about tempo mismatches. They're about tempo mismatches. One partner glides, the other bursts, one collapses, the other hovers, one overrides, the other loops, and when those rhythms misalign, we don't feel met, even if we adore each other. What if, during a fight, you could say I think I just collapsed because my glide didn't land with you, or I'm overriding right now because I am scared to show how much this matters to me. That's DVA fluency.
Speaker 1:I know it may seem a little odd and it does feel a little odd at the beginning. Just about anything feels odd when you first do it, but it actually works. That's love. With timing, and when couples start moving in sync reading, feeling, adjusting to each other's tempo, to each other's tempo everything shifts. This isn't about perfect communication at all. It's about co-regulated rhythm. It's like being in a band. It's like moving together, singing together. It's not a solo act, it's not two solo acts together in the room. When two nervous systems find each other's beat. When your emotional pacing is met, mirrored and moved with, you don't just feel seen Again, you feel home, and that's where we all want to be Until next time. Thank you so much.
