Interpersonal Neurobiology Essentials: Mind & Embodied Memory
Introduction
Interpersonal neurobiology (IPNB) offers a groundbreaking perspective on how our minds, brains, bodies, and relationships are deeply interconnected. Developed by Dr. Daniel Siegel, IPNB moves beyond traditional models by showing that our sense of self, our emotions, and even our memories are shaped not just by our brains, but by our embodied experiences and the quality of our relationships with others. This article explores the essentials of IPNB, focusing on how our mind works, how early relationships shape memory, and why embodied, relational healing matters for lasting well-being
IPNB’s Definition of the Mind
Interpersonal neurobiology (IPNB) explains that the mind is far more than just the brain. According to Daniel Siegel, the mind is a living process that happens both inside our bodies and in our relationships with others. Siegel emphasizes that the mind is both embodied—arising from processes throughout the body—and relational—emerging through our connections with other people. He describes the mind as the way we organize and share energy and information—not just within our own thoughts, but also in how we connect with people and the world around us (Siegel, 2010, p. 32).
Siegel outlines several key components of the mind:
Subjective experience: What we feel and sense on the inside.
Consciousness: Our awareness and ability to know ourselves and the world.
Information processing: How we collect, store, use, and communicate information.
Self-organization: The ability of the mind to bring together and link different thoughts, feelings, and experiences into a coherent whole.
The mind is not just something in our head, but a process shaped by our experiences and relationships.
Self-organization, as Siegel describes, is the mind’s ability to create order and integration from complexity. In everyday life, this means we can bring together different thoughts, feelings, and experiences to adapt and make sense of our lives. This ability helps us stay flexible, resilient, and able to grow from our experiences
Relationships, Attunement, and the Shaping of Mind
Seeing the mind in this way helps explain why healthy relationships and emotional attunement are so important for brain development and well-being. For instance, research shows that when caregivers are warm, responsive, and consistently attuned to an infant’s needs, the child’s brain develops strong connections between its emotional, sensory, and thinking regions.
On the other hand, when caregivers are distant, inconsistent, or emotionally unavailable, the infant’s brain may not develop these connections as well. Instead, the child may store memories shaped by stress, confusion, or insecurity. The brain may become more reactive to threat and less able to calm itself, and the child may struggle to trust others or manage emotions over time. In some cases, these early patterns can lead to difficulties with self-regulation, attachment, and resilience later in life (Schore, 2003a; Siegel, 2012).
Defining Trauma
Trauma is an experience that overwhelms a person’s ability to cope and the nervous system’s capacity to regulate itself, leading to severe emotional and physiological dysregulation. It disrupts our sense of safety, identity, and connection with others. In childhood, abuse and neglect are common causes of trauma that can have lasting effects on the mind and body (Herman, 1992; van der Kolk, 2014; Levine, 2010; Kalsched, 1996; Badenoch, 2017).
Insecure attachment—when a child’s needs for safety and connection are repeatedly unmet is now widely recognized as a form of relational trauma. Such experiences can overwhelm a child’s developing nervous system, shaping the mind’s ability to regulate emotions, form healthy relationships, and integrate memories throughout life.
These early relational experiences not only shape brain development but also become deeply woven into the memories we carry forward. The way these memories are “packaged” and stored in the mind—shaped by our bodies and relationships—plays a crucial role in our sense of self and well-being. Understanding this process is the next step in exploring interpersonal neurobiology.
The Impact of Trauma on the Mind and Memory
Daniel Siegel’s interpersonal neurobiology (IPNB) framework introduces the concept of the “memory capsule,” which describes how our memories are more than just facts. Memory capsules are integrated packets that store everything about an experience—not just what happened, but also how it felt in our bodies, the emotions we had, the images in our minds, and the people and relationships involved. Rather than being a simple list of events, a memory capsule creates a rich, personal story that helps shape who we are. When we recall a memory, we bring back the sights, sounds, feelings, and meaning it held, giving us a fuller picture of our lives (Siegel, 2012).
Fragmented Memories and the Challenge to Identity
Trauma disrupts this process, making it difficult for the mind to form integrated memory capsules. Instead, trauma can create fragmented memories—disconnected images, bodily sensations, emotions, or even smells—that are stored without a clear story or timeline. This fragmentation can destabilize our sense of identity, leaving us feeling unsafe or broken. In daily life, this fragmentation might show up as flashbacks, intrusive images, or strong emotional triggers—sometimes without knowing what these triggers relate to.
On a neurological level, neuroimaging studies of PTSD show how trauma activates parts of the brain (like the amygdala) that process threat and emotion, while quieting regions (like the prefrontal cortex) that help us make sense of and organize memories (Bremner, 2006; Shin et al., 2006; Frewen & Lanius, 2015; van der Kolk & Fisler, 1995; Lanius et al., 2010). Further research on the brain’s default mode network (DMN)—a system involved in self-reflection and autobiographical memory—shows that trauma-related disruptions in the DMN can cause these fragmented experiences to become intertwined with our core beliefs about who we are. This makes it even harder to form a stable, coherent identity (Frewen & Lanius, 2015; Lanius et al., 2010). Understanding these brain dynamics has important implications for trauma therapy, which aims to restore DMN function and support a more integrated sense of self.
Key is: our earliest relationships shape our very being. Repeated relational failures, particularly with primary caregivers in the form of emotional or physical abuse or neglect, can have profound effects on the developing self. This is because children depend on their caregivers not just for physical survival, but also for emotional regulation, validation, and the formation of a stable sense of self. When these core needs are unmet or consistently violated, the child’s inner world becomes organized around self-protection and adaptation to an unpredictable environment. To shield the most vulnerable, wounded parts of the self from overwhelming pain, helplessness, or fear, the psyche creates what Kalsched (1996) calls an “archetypal self-care system.” For example, a child who is repeatedly criticized or ignored by a parent may develop an inner voice that says, “Don’t expect kindness from others,” or “If you show your true feelings, you’ll be hurt.” Although circumstances may change as the child grows, the self-care system continues to operate as if the original threats are still present, essentially keeping the individual stuck in the emotional reality of the past. What once served to protect becomes an internal protector that, over time, can transform into a harsh inner critic (e.g., persistent self-doubt, a harsh inner voice), echoing the negative voices or judgments of the past (“You’re unlovable, inadequate”). This self-blame, meant to preserve the image of caregivers, can lead to dissociation and a deep sense of shame (“I’m fundamentally defective”).
Research shows that disruptions in the brain’s default mode network (DMN)—a network involved in self-reflection and autobiographical memory—can cause traumatic and relational fragments to become attached to our core beliefs about who we are, making it even harder to form a stable, coherent identity (Frewen & Lanius, 2015; Lanius et al., 2010). Understanding these brain dynamics has important implications for trauma therapy, which aims to restore DMN function and support a more integrated sense of self.
Healing is possible, but the process of change often activates strong internal resistance. While integrated memory capsules support a stable sense of self, trauma can disrupt this process, leaving memories fragmented and the self destabilized. As survivors begin to seek change, the inner world’s “gatekeepers”—the self-care system and its internalized critics—can rise in opposition, fearing vulnerability and re-traumatization.
As survivors attempt to reclaim lost or exiled parts of themselves, these internal gatekeepers—especially the harsh inner critic—often resist change. Transformation can trigger the memory of past threats, reactivating old defenses. Kalsched (1996) explains that the self-care system may become a "totalitarian persecutor," attacking vulnerability or hope and blocking the brain’s ability to form new, healing connections (Kalsched, 2010; Siegel, 2012). Psychoanalyst Wilfred Bion (1959) described this as “attacks on linking,” meaning the unconscious destruction of connections between thoughts and feelings, which can leave survivors feeling isolated and unable to make sense of their experiences (Kalsched, 2010).
Paths to Healing: Integration and Embodied Practice
Because trauma fragments integration across neural, emotional, and relational domains, healing must begin where fragmentation started—within embodied experience and in safe, attuned relationships. Siegel’s (2012) concept of memory capsules helps explain why body-based, relational interventions are so effective. Healthy memory integration depends on the brain’s ability to connect regions involved in emotion, memory, and reasoning (the amygdala, hippocampus, and prefrontal cortex). Trauma disrupts these connections, making emotional experiences feel overwhelming or disconnected from our stories (Shin et al., 2006). Since emotions often arise in the body before we create a story about them, healing must start with co-regulated, embodied experiences (Siegel, 2010).
Somatic Experiencing® and other relational approaches offer practical ways to address this mismatch. For example, grounding exercises help people focus on physical sensations in the present moment, while co-regulation practices use supportive relationships to help calm the nervous system. By aligning bodily sensations with mental awareness, these body-based strategies support emotional processing and regulation, making it easier to manage anxiety and build resilience. For example, a grounding exercise might involve noticing the feeling of your feet on the floor or your breath in your body, or naming five things you can see in the room, while co-regulation could mean sitting with a trusted person and focusing on shared calmness.
These interventions are most effective when practiced within safe, supportive relationships, where the presence of a caring other helps foster trust and integration.
Why This Understanding is Revolutionary
This non-linear, embodied view, substantiated by neuroscience, challenges the culturally predominant belief that “thoughts create feelings,” showing instead that emotions often originate below conscious awareness in subcortical brain regions and emerge relationally, shaped by early interpersonal experiences before cognition has a chance to intervene (Öhman, 2005; Phelps, 2006; Schore, 2012; Siegel, 2012).
This shift disrupts the notion of an isolated, autonomous self by portraying the mind as inherently social and embodied. It reveals how emotional regulation and resilience are not solely individual tasks but arise through co-regulated interactions and safe relational contexts, fundamentally reframing healing as relational and neuroplastic (Badenoch, 2018; Siegel, 2012).
When Cognitive Approaches Backfire: The Retraumatization Risk
Consider the example of anxiety triggered by a social encounter. Traditional cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) often teaches people to challenge anxious thoughts or repeat safety affirmations such as “I am safe,” assuming that cognitive reframing will override the emotion (Beck, 2011; Hofmann et al., 2012). However, this approach can fall short when the body and subcortical brain regions generate nervousness or fear before conscious cognitive appraisal. In these moments, affirmations may feel hollow or ineffective because the emotional response precedes conscious thought (Lanius et al., 2010; van der Kolk, 2014). Research by Orzechowska et al. (2021) supports this mismatch: “patients [with somatic symptoms] exhibit a strong focus on physical ailments while omitting psychological factors,” leading to rejection of purely cognitive explanations when bodily distress persists and resulting in treatment failure or dropout (p. 3159).
PNB research shows that while cognitive evaluation can modulate the raw emotional experience, this depends on neural integration between bottom-up somatic signals and top-down cortical processes (Siegel, 2012). Without this integration, top-down interventions risk reactivating dissociative defenses and hypervigilance—exacerbating fragmentation rather than resolving it (Schore, 2009; Lanius et al., 2010). For adults who, as children, learned to doubt their embodied reality, layering affirmations atop discordant body triggers evokes gaslighting dynamics, erodes trust in self-perception, and perpetuates dysregulation (Pearlman & Courtois, 2006).
Rather than solely targeting anxious thoughts or imposing new identities through affirmations, trauma-informed practice focuses on fostering bodily attunement, safety, and relational co-regulation to support healing at the neural circuitry level (Siegel, 2012; Schore, 2012). Approaches relying on top-down thinking fail to address deep subcortical encodings, alienating embodied experience and risking retraumatization (Orzechowska et al., 2021; Schore, 2009). In contrast, relational integration through safety and co-regulation enables neuroplastic reweaving of the fragmented self (Siegel, 2012).
Approaches relying on “imprinting a new identity” through top-down thinking or affirmations fail to address deep subcortical encodings. Neuroscience shows these affirmations can alienate embodied experience and risk retraumatization (Orzechowska et al., 2021; Schore, 2009). Instead, relational integration, through safety and co-regulation, enables neuroplastic reweaving of the fragmented self (Siegel, 2012).
Importantly, trauma often remains hidden from conscious awareness, serving as a self-protective mechanism against what Donald Kalsched (1996) describes as “an unnamable dread associated with the threatened dissolution of a coherent self” (p. 1). Because trauma’s complexity and subtlety mean it may not be disclosed or even consciously recognized, truly trauma-informed work is relational and embodied. Practitioners and coaches cannot reliably claim “I don’t work with trauma cases”—trauma’s hidden nature defies such boundaries (Badenoch, 2018; Smethurst, 2023). Healing, therefore, involves reweaving fragmented capsules through relational integration, linking bottom-up emotional surges with top-down reflection via neuroplastic reconsolidation (Nader & Hardt, 2009).
Integration over Isolation: The Necessity of Embodied Connection
This integrated model challenges cognitive appraisal theory, which posits cognition precedes emotion, by demonstrating that disruptions in caregiver attunement fundamentally alter neural structures, shaping emotional reality from relational origins rather than isolated thoughts (Schore, 2012; Siegel, 2012). Bonnie Badenoch (2018) extends this insight, illustrating how therapeutic presence fosters co-regulation that rewires dysregulated pathways non-linearly through safety and embodiment.
Complementing these perspectives, Raja Selvam’s (2020) Integral Somatic Psychology emphasizes that genuine healing requires making space for emotions throughout the body. When the body shuts down under stress, cognitive interventions alone cannot reach the roots of distress; instead, tolerating and integrating embodied emotional states unlocks neuroplasticity and supports somatic “rewiring” (Selvam, 2020). This aligns with Somatic Experiencing’s emphasis on pendulation and titration, where emotional cognition arises from body-based awareness rather than linear thought (Levine, 2010).
Allan Schore’s right-brain attunement research further reveals how preverbal affective exchanges in attachment form the neural basis for empathy and regulation—processes fundamentally independent of verbal cognition. Together, these perspectives establish integration as the cornerstone of emotional health, transcending linear cognitive models.
Image via Unsplash by Hannah Busing @hannahbusing
The Myth of the Autonomous Self
Western culture's glorification of self-regulation traces to the Enlightenment, where David Hume (1739/1978) declared reason the “slave of the passions” yet positioned rational control as a moral imperative—prioritizing autonomy over emotional interdependence (Chiao et al., 2009; Markus & Kitayama, 2014). Historian Rob Boddice (2021), an expert in the biocultural history of emotions, shows how this framework systematically devalued our innate relational needs. This cultural legacy misaligns with modern neuroscience, which reveals our nervous systems as inherently social organs requiring co-regulation to thrive (Schore, 2012; Badenoch, 2018).
This individualistic emphasis, valorizing “power over,” control over our mind and body, and independence, contrasts sharply with mammalian biology. Mammals, by definition, are co-regulating beings. The infant’s heart rate, temperature, and emotional rhythm are stabilized not through inner willpower but through the presence of another body. Safety, calm, and resilience emerge not from solitary control but from reciprocal attunement. Siegel (2012) emphasizes: “We’re wired to be social; isolation impairs integration” (p. 156). Our nervous systems are social organs. They require resonance to thrive (Schore, 2012; Siegel, 2012).
Implications for Practice: Safety, Co-Regulation and Growth
For trauma survivors, this myth compounds fragmentation: affirmations atop dysregulated somatic signals retraumatize rather than integrate (Schore, 2009; Orzechowska et al., 2021). Relational co-regulation—therapist presence mirroring early attunement—rewires these pathways safely (Badenoch, 2018).
The right hemisphere of the brain, where emotion and body awareness are most active, develops through moment-to-moment interactions with attuned caregivers. Co-regulation literally shapes our neural architecture. When such attunement is absent, the brain compensates by overdeveloping control mechanisms that suppress emotional expression. This compensatory hyper-control becomes culturally valorized as “strength,” perpetuating the myth of self-sufficiency, a physiological impossibility. Even the capacity for solitude, for inward regulation, is born from a history of being held, seen, and soothed. When attuned relationships support our nervous system, the body learns to settle. This state of safety enables flexibility, empathy, and creativity.
What does this mean for working with people?
As therapists, coaches, educators, and leaders, we find ourselves in a field that is constantly evolving, offering continual opportunities to learn and adapt. Interpersonal neurobiology (IPNB), grounded in decades of neuroscience research, enriches our understanding and gently encourages us to consider whether there might be more to discover beyond familiar, top-down cognitive models. Staying curious about approaches that integrate both mind and body allows us to expand our care in meaningful ways.
Rather than viewing new developments as a departure from what has come before, we can honor the value in each step of our learning journey. Thoughtfully integrating insights from IPNB encourages us to model attunement and openness—qualities that foster connection, resilience, and growth for ourselves and those we serve (Badenoch, 2018; Knight, 2018). The field continues to evolve, and as the APA (2006) reminds us, evidence-based practice is a living process—one that blends “the best available research with clinical expertise” (p. 273)
Conclusion
In this spirit, embracing ongoing learning is not about discarding the past, but about welcoming inspiration and possibility for compassionate, whole-person care. IPNB offers us not just tools, but an invitation: to honor neuroscience and the fullness of human experience as we strive to provide truly compassionate, up-to-date care in service of collective healing (Fosha, 2000). By embracing this integrative approach, we uplift not only those we serve individually but also contribute to reshaping the organizations and communities around us—helping to cultivate spaces where connection, empathy, and authentic well-being are not just ideals, but living realities.
References
APA Presidential Task Force on Evidence-Based Practice. (2006). Evidence-based practice in psychology. American Psychologist, 61(4), 271–285. https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.61.4.271
Badenoch, B. (2018). The heart of trauma: Healing the embodied brain in the context of relationships. W. W. Norton & Company.
Beck, J. S. (2011). Cognitive behavior therapy: Basics and beyond (2nd ed.). Guilford Press.
Bion, W. R. (1959). Attacks on linking. International Journal of Psycho-Analysis, 40(5-6), 308–315.
Boddice, R. (2021). A history of feelings. Reaktion Books
Bremner, J. D. (2006). Traumatic stress: Effects on the brain. Dialogues in Clinical Neuroscience, 8(4), 445–461. https://doi.org/10.31887/DCNS.2006.8.4/jbremner
Chiao, J. Y., Harada, T., Komeda, H., Li, Z., Mano, Y., Saito, D., ... & Iidaka, T. (2009). Neural basis of individualistic and collectivistic views of self. Human brain mapping, 30(9), 2813-2820. https://doi.org/10.1002/hbm.20707
Fosha, D. (2000). The transforming power of affect: A model for accelerated change. Basic Books.
Frewen, P. A., & Lanius, R. A. (2015). Healing the traumatized self: Consciousness, neuroscience, treatment. W. W. Norton & Company.
Hofmann, S. G., Asnaani, A., Vonk, I. J., Sawyer, A. T., & Fang, A. (2012). The efficacy of cognitive behavioral therapy: A review of meta-analyses. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 36(5), 427–440. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10608-012-9476-1
Hume, D. (1978). A treatise of human nature (L. A. Selby-Bigge & P. H. Nidditch, Eds.). Oxford University Press. (Original work published 1739)
Knight, C. (2018). Trauma-informed supervision: Historical antecedents, current practice, and future directions. The Clinical Supervisor, 37(1), 7–37. https://doi.org/10.1080/07325223.2017.1413607
Lanius, R. A., Vermetten, E., Loewenstein, R. J., Brand, B., Schmahl, C., Bremner, J. D., & Spiegel, D. (2010). Emotion modulation in PTSD: Clinical and neurobiological evidence for a dissociative subtype. American journal of psychiatry, 167(6), 640-647. https://doi.org/10.1176/appi.ajp.2009.09081168
Luyten, P., Van Houdenhove, B., Lemma, A., Target, M., & Fonagy, P. (2013). Vulnerability for functional somatic disorders: A contemporary psychodynamic approach. Journal of Psychotherapy Integration, 23(3), 250. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0032360
Markus, H. R., & Kitayama, S. (2014). Culture and the self: Implications for cognition, emotion, and motivation. In College Student Development and Academic Life (pp. 264-293). Routledge.
Nader, K., & Hardt, O. (2009). A single standard for memory: The case for reconsolidation. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 10(3), 224–234. https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn2590
Öhman, A. (2005). The role of the amygdala in human fear: automatic detection of threat. Psychoneuroendocrinology, 30(10), 953-958. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.psyneuen.2005.03.019
Orzechowska, A., Maruszewska, P., & Gałecki, P. (2021). Cognitive behavioral therapy of patients with somatic symptoms—Diagnostic and therapeutic difficulties. Journal of Clinical Medicine, 10(14), 3159. https://doi.org/10.3390/jcm10143159
Pearlman, L. A., & Courtois, C. A. (2005). Clinical applications of the attachment framework: Relational treatment of complex trauma. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 18(4), 449–461. https://doi.org/10.1002/jts.20052
Phelps, E. A. (2006). Emotion and cognition: insights from studies of the human amygdala. Annual Review Psychology, 57(1), 27-53. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev.psych.56.091103.070234
Schore, A. N. (2012). The science of the art of psychotherapy. W. W. Norton & Company.
Selvam, R. (2020). The practice of embodying emotions: A mind-body approach to improving emotional strength, clarity, and balance. North Atlantic Books.
Shin, L. M., Rauch, S. L., & Pitman, R. K. (2006). Amygdala, medial prefrontal cortex, and hippocampal function in PTSD. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 1071(1), 67-79. https://doi.org/10.1196/annals.1364.007
Siegel, D. J. (2012). The developing mind: How relationships and the brain interact to shape who we are (2nd ed.). Guilford Press.
van der Kolk, B. A., & Fisler, R. (1995). Dissociation and the fragmentary nature of traumatic memories: Overview and exploratory study. Journal of Trauma & Stress, 8(4), 505–525. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF02102887
van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
