Exploring predictive coding, trauma memories, and what recent neuroscience may mean for play therapy practice
For years, many of us in the trauma and play therapy fields have repeated a familiar phrase:
"Trauma is stored in the body."
The phrase became widely known through Bessel van der Kolk's influential book The Body Keeps the Score. It helped shift the conversation toward understanding that trauma is more than a cognitive experience—it affects the whole person.
But what if that phrase isn't entirely accurate?
A recently published paper titled The Body Does Not Keep the Score has sparked an important conversation among researchers and clinicians. Rather than arguing that the body is unimportant in trauma, the authors challenge how we explain trauma and where we believe it is "stored."
As play therapists, this conversation matters because the way we understand trauma influences how we conceptualize cases, explain trauma to families, and ultimately help children heal.
One of the things I've been reflecting on lately is how often we accept popular clinical concepts without fully examining them.
I know I have.
When I first encountered ideas like "the body keeps the score" or some of the concepts associated with polyvagal theory, parts of them resonated deeply with my clinical experience. Other parts didn't quite fit, but I assumed the experts had it figured out and moved on.
Recently, however, several critiques and research discussions have encouraged clinicians to take a closer look at some of these theories. Rather than seeing that as threatening, I see it as an opportunity.
Good science asks questions.
Good clinicians stay curious.
And good play therapists continue learning.
The authors of The Body Does Not Keep the Score argue that trauma may be better understood as a problem of prediction rather than storage.
Instead of thinking about trauma as something trapped in muscles, organs, or tissues, they propose that trauma involves disruptions in how the brain predicts and interprets information from the world.
This idea is based on a concept called predictive coding.
Predictive coding suggests that the brain is constantly making predictions about what is happening around us.
At incredible speed, the brain receives information from:
It then attempts to make sense of that information and determine what action is needed.
Most of this occurs outside conscious awareness.
Before we even realize it, the brain is already asking:
According to the authors, trauma can disrupt this prediction system. Instead of accurately assessing current situations, the brain begins to predict danger even when danger is no longer present.
This is the part that really caught my attention.
The authors propose that trauma creates what is essentially a faulty prediction loop. The brain repeatedly interprets present-day experiences through the lens of past trauma and allocates resources accordingly.
In practical terms, this means:
A child may enter a classroom and feel unsafe.
A teen may interpret a neutral social interaction as rejection.
A parent may experience intense anxiety when their child makes a mistake.
The nervous system responds as though danger is present, even when it isn't.
The body experiences the consequences of that prediction.
The racing heart.
The tight muscles.
The stomach ache.
The freeze response.
Those experiences are very real.
But according to this model, they are occurring because of how the brain is predicting and interpreting information—not because trauma is literally stored inside the body's tissues.
Another concept discussed in the article is something called metastability.
Metastability refers to the brain's ability to flexibly move between different neural states and consider multiple possibilities.
A healthy system can adapt.
It can evaluate new information.
It can revise predictions when circumstances change.
Trauma, however, may reduce that flexibility.
Instead of considering multiple possibilities, the brain becomes stuck in a narrow pattern of predicting danger.
When this happens, clients can become trapped in repetitive cycles of:
The challenge isn't simply that they remember the trauma.
The challenge is that their brains continue predicting the trauma.
As I read this article, I kept thinking about the children and adolescents we work with every day.
How often do we see clients whose reactions seem bigger than the current situation?
How often do we hear parents say:
And yet the child's nervous system is telling a different story.
This predictive coding framework offers a useful explanation.
The child isn't choosing the reaction.
The child's brain is making a prediction based on prior experiences and responding accordingly.
From a play therapy perspective, this aligns with much of what we already observe clinically.
Not at all.
This is one of the biggest misconceptions I've seen in discussions about this article.
The authors are not arguing that body-based interventions are ineffective.
The body absolutely matters.
Children experience trauma in their bodies.
They feel it.
We see it.
What the article challenges is the explanation—not necessarily the intervention.
Movement, play, sensory experiences, mindfulness, breathing exercises, yoga, and expressive arts can still be incredibly valuable.
The difference is that we may need to think more carefully about why those interventions work.
One of the more interesting ideas discussed in the article is the concept of flow.
The authors describe flow as a state of deep engagement in a meaningful and appropriately challenging activity.
Examples might include:
Their theory suggests that flow states may help interrupt rigid trauma patterns and increase flexibility in the brain's prediction systems.
As play therapists, that naturally raises some interesting questions.
Could therapeutic play itself create flow states?
Could symbolic play help children access greater flexibility?
Could creative expression support the nervous system in developing new predictions?
The research is still emerging, but these are fascinating possibilities to explore.
For me, the biggest takeaway is not whether one theory is completely right or completely wrong.
The takeaway is that language matters.
How we explain trauma matters.
And our theoretical models matter.
As play therapists, we need a framework that helps us answer:
Our play therapy model helps us answer those questions.
Whether you're using:
Your theoretical orientation influences how you make sense of trauma and how you respond therapeutically.
The question may not be whether trauma is stored in the body.
The more useful question may be:
How does trauma influence the way the brain and body work together to predict danger?
That shift in perspective helps explain why children can continue experiencing distress long after a traumatic event has ended.
It helps explain why healing requires more than simply talking about what happened.
And it reminds us that effective play therapy isn't just about reducing symptoms—it's about helping children develop new experiences of safety, connection, flexibility, and resilience.
As the science continues to evolve, our understanding will evolve too.
And that's a good thing.
Because the better we understand trauma, the better we can support the children, adolescents, and families who trust us with their healing.
If you're interested in deepening your understanding of trauma, neuroscience, attachment, and play therapy, join me for my upcoming training:
Healing Trauma Through Play Therapy: A Neuroscience and Attachment Approach
In this training, we'll explore:
Available:
Registration closes June 4.
New registrants will also receive 60 days of access to Play Therapy Elevation Circle, my consultation and support community for play therapists.
Inside you'll find:
Because learning doesn't stop when the training ends.
Kolter, S., Mannino, M., Fox, G., and Friston, K. (2026). The body does not keep the score: Trauma, predictive coding, and the restoration of metastability. Frontiers in Systems Neuroscience. doi.10.3389/fnsys.1812957
Categories: : Play Therapy, Play Therapy Academy, Play Therapy Elevation Circle, Podcast, Trauma