Shaping stories through clay: expressing inner change after breathwork

In my research with people who have lived experience of the criminal justice system, I am becoming aware that traditional, direct approaches are not always sufficient to capture the complexity of their stories. Lived experiences are layered, complicated and embodied. They do not follow a linear structure, and they can often be difficult to articulate through words alone.

When research relies only on direct questions and spoken answers, important parts of these stories can be missed. This is why I am exploring more sensitive, creative ways of listening.

What I mean by “delicate methodologies”

By delicate methodologies, I do not mean approaches that are vague or unstructured. I mean methods that are careful, attentive, and responsive. Much like breathwork, they work from the inside out. They allow space for pauses, silence, and subtle expression.

These qualities can easily be overlooked when research relies solely on structured questions or verbal accounts. Through careful listening and observation, subtle expressions and nuances begin to surface in ways that would otherwise remain unacknowledged.

Using clay as part of the interview process

One creative method I am using is inviting participants to work with clay during interviews. Clay is physical, grounding, and open-ended. It encourages touch, movement, and play. For people who may find it difficult to express themselves verbally, clay offers another way to communicate — one that is sensory and embodied rather than purely verbal.

How shaping clay changes the storytelling process

I have noticed that something shifts when participants shape clay while talking about their experiences. Coming from a background as a practitioner, I can see similarities in the process work to methods such as drawing, sand play, or family constellation work. Working with an object outside of the body helps participants to externalise internal experiences. The clay becomes a bridge between what is felt and what can be shared.

Participants have reported feeling calmer and less pressured to find the right words. This tactile form of engagement is a tactile literacy, which is rooted in sensation rather than speech. It seems to have a self-soothing effect, and it allows the participant to remain the author of their own story.

Early insights from ongoing research

Although data collection is still ongoing, one clear theme has already begun to emerge. For many participants, the most meaningful part of their rehabilitation journey is not focused solely on themselves, but on their relationships.

The men I have interviewed often speak about wanting to be a better son, a better father, or a better partner. Their reflections are grounded in care, responsibility, and connection. Witnessing this has been deeply humbling.

As a researcher, I feel a strong responsibility to honour these voices. I do not want participants to feel that their stories are being taken from them for the sake of research. Instead, I want their openness and vulnerability to be held with care — and used in ways that may support others.

The connection to breathwork

Sharing experiences while shaping clay often enables participants to see themselves differently, opening up new perspectives on who they are and who they might become.

This mirrors the breathwork element of the wider programme I am studying. Just as breathwork can allow space for reflection on life choices and for new insights to emerge organically and with the body’s consent.

Looking ahead: what this means for research and rehabilitation

At its core, rehabilitation is about change — often at the level of identity and personal story. Sensory and embodied experiences can open up new ways for people to relate to the narratives they tell about themselves, especially those that have kept them stuck in harmful patterns.

By paying attention to how experiences are felt, not just how they are explained, people may begin to reshape the stories that guide their decisions.

For research, this means listening differently. For participants, it can mean seeing themselves differently. And in that space, new futures may begin to take form.