When Patricia Weaver Francisco, a writer and friend, told me six years ago that she wanted to introduce me to a paralyzed guy who taught yoga, I didn't pay much attention. I had been practicing for years and couldn't imagine that a paraplegic could be an effective instructor. When I finally met Matt Sanford three years later, though, I was struck not by the limitations of his physical condition, but by the power of his presence. Since then, Matt and I have become friends and I go to his classes whenever I can.

Paralyzed at age 13 in a car accident that killed his father and sister, Matt has acquired a profound understanding, refined through yoga, of how trauma gets embedded in our memories, makes us dissociate, and gets frozen in place by fear. In his experience, the mechanisms of trauma are the same no matter the root cause-whether it's a catastrophic event such as 9/11, an emotional crisis, or a physical injury. It is important, Matt says, to distinguish between the initial shock, with its accompanying pain, and how we respond to it. The real damage is inflicted after the fact by the ways we attempt to defend ourselves in the short and long term, both physically and emotionally.

I've found Matt's insights about healing applicable even in mundane situations. Not long after we met, for example, I slammed my finger in a window. My first instinct was to scream and curse, but instead, perhaps due to Matt's influence, I tried an experiment. I sat down and concentrated on my breath. Over the next 15 minutes the pain I was experiencing expressed itself in a distinct sequence of physical and emotional experiences: a sudden shooting sensation up my arm; a feeling of weakness and helplessness; a heavy ache in the finger; and a wave of self-pity. The next day, there was no swelling and only the slightest soreness. For me, the experience was a practical demonstration of what Matt means when he says that the more present we are, the less intense the injury and the residual scars or memories.