Abby, Denise and I were leaving the gym together after class this week when Denise asked, “Is Feldenkrais good for relieving stress? There’s so much going on in my life right now, and I am waking up with my jaw clenched.” She demonstrated. “It’s so intense.”
Denise is new; this week’s class had been her third. Abby is an old-timer; she has been coming for several years.
I was just opening my mouth to respond, when Abby jumped in. “Let me say something, Maureen.”
Turning to Denise, Abby said, “I began several years ago with group classes, and at the same time I did a series of individual sessions. I got a lot out of them. I remember one session especially, when I came in and my arm was really bothering me.”
After a little pause, Abby turned to me and said, “Maureen, I think we know each other well enough by now that I can say this.” Looking again at Denise she said, “Maybe I was complaining, but that day Maureen was pretty short with me. She touched me in a couple places and said, ‘It’s because you’re tense all over.’ The way she said it … well, it stung. But that was probably good because it made me shoot back, ‘That’s because I am dealing with a lot of stress right now!’
Turning again to look at me, Abby said, “And then you said the most amazing thing, Maureen. You said, ‘Well, maybe your body doesn’t have to get all knotted up just because your mind and your emotions are upset.’
Abby continued: "That was the most amazing idea to me! I had always thought, not consciously of course, that if you’re upset, your shoulders just have to go up to here,” and she pulled her shoulders up and her head forward and made her face tense. It looked pretty bad! Then she let that go.
I said, “Yeah! Usually in Feldenkrais we’re working on connecting the mind to the body, but it’s also to good to learn how to disconnect them. The body doesn’t have to always get tense when the mind is upset. It could be that the mind is upset – that’s how it is – but the body stays relaxed.”
Abby responded, “I’ve thought about that a lot. It’s a big job! But I’m working on it, and it’s making a difference for me.”
Showing posts with label How the FM works. Show all posts
Showing posts with label How the FM works. Show all posts
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
The whole system
One of the axioms of the Feldenkrais work is that the whole body is a system.
As an idea, this may seem simple, but to make it effective in practice takes detective work.
Claire, a professional woman in her 50’s, came in this week and said, “Oh, thank you, Maureen, for last week. I have been remembering to stretch out my left ribs, and my neck feels so much better.”
I was glad to hear it.
Do you know what’s the connection?
The previous week Claire had come in and after the briefest hello, and while rubbing the right side of her neck, had reported, “Maureen, this weekend was so bad. My neck just seized up.”
She shared that after a full work week she had taken a long drive to spend the weekend with family. On Saturday morning there she was having fun with everyone, except that her neck was killing her. Over the course of the next few days, some of the tension eased up by itself, but now, home and back at work, she still hurt.
What could I do about it?
I asked Claire to walk. I saw my clue right away.
Claire was holding contraction in the left ribs. It wasn’t extreme, but the desired fluid shift among the central muscles was missing. The contraction naturally pulled the head to the left. But Claire didn’t want to walk lopsided. So, something inside – some part of the brain – automatically pulled on the right neck muscles. They brought her head to the middle. But the tactic overworked the neck muscles, and they hurt.
I asked Claire to lie down on my table. I explored what was happening in those left ribs. The muscles were tight! They were happy to let go! When Claire stood, she felt that she was taller and that her neck was fine.
Over the next week, the left side contraction would come back in again. But Claire noticed it. She could move in a certain way and let it go.
As an idea, this may seem simple, but to make it effective in practice takes detective work.
Claire, a professional woman in her 50’s, came in this week and said, “Oh, thank you, Maureen, for last week. I have been remembering to stretch out my left ribs, and my neck feels so much better.”
I was glad to hear it.
Do you know what’s the connection?
The previous week Claire had come in and after the briefest hello, and while rubbing the right side of her neck, had reported, “Maureen, this weekend was so bad. My neck just seized up.”
She shared that after a full work week she had taken a long drive to spend the weekend with family. On Saturday morning there she was having fun with everyone, except that her neck was killing her. Over the course of the next few days, some of the tension eased up by itself, but now, home and back at work, she still hurt.
What could I do about it?
I asked Claire to walk. I saw my clue right away.
Claire was holding contraction in the left ribs. It wasn’t extreme, but the desired fluid shift among the central muscles was missing. The contraction naturally pulled the head to the left. But Claire didn’t want to walk lopsided. So, something inside – some part of the brain – automatically pulled on the right neck muscles. They brought her head to the middle. But the tactic overworked the neck muscles, and they hurt.
I asked Claire to lie down on my table. I explored what was happening in those left ribs. The muscles were tight! They were happy to let go! When Claire stood, she felt that she was taller and that her neck was fine.
Over the next week, the left side contraction would come back in again. But Claire noticed it. She could move in a certain way and let it go.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Lie on your back
Most Feldenkrais classes begin with the instruction: “Lie on your back.”
Why is this so?
For regular students, the answer is obvious: “Because it feels good!”
There is also a deeper reason: to be sensitive you have to be relaxed.
In this context, relaxed means that your muscles are not activated for exertion. Especially the extensors, which are along the back, should be resting and quiet.
In his book The Potent Self, Feldenkrais talks about his thinking process behind this starting position:
Taking this thinking into action, Feldenkrais developed a large number of movement sequences, which he called lessons and which students perform mostly while lying down, although sometimes in upright positions.
For example, a lesson might ask you to lie on your back and move your arms and head in one coordination and then in another. You are asked at the same time, “Please notice how you feel while doing it the first way, and the second.” Since you are able to do both, the distinction is usually small, but one way is preferable. By paying attention, you refine your ability to discriminate between these small differences and to make the choices that are best for you. Gradually, these awarenesses accumulate and deepen, and you find yourself moving in a way that makes you feel better.
Often, a whole lot better!
(1) Feldenkrais, Moshe. The Potent Self. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1985. Page 135.
Why is this so?
For regular students, the answer is obvious: “Because it feels good!”
There is also a deeper reason: to be sensitive you have to be relaxed.
In this context, relaxed means that your muscles are not activated for exertion. Especially the extensors, which are along the back, should be resting and quiet.
In his book The Potent Self, Feldenkrais talks about his thinking process behind this starting position:
“The most complete elimination of the extensors in an act of spatial orientation would in fact be a complete contrast with our habitual experience and as little as possible associated with normal activity. Furthermore, the effort involved should be the smallest possible so that we can distinguish the slightest variations in muscular effort. For all sensations are so related to their causes that the slighter the cause, the smaller is the change that can be sensed. If we lift a heavy weight, for example, we cannot tell whether a sheet of paper is stuck beneath it or not. But on lifting a single sheet of paper we know at once if another one is stuck to it or not. Similarly, in daylight we do not notice a light bulb shining. But in the dark we can see the glow of a cigarette. Near an airplane, we cannot hear anything because of the propeller noise; in complete silence we can hear a fly or our own breath. Thus the intensity of the stimulus must be reduced if we want to become aware of small changes.” (1)
Taking this thinking into action, Feldenkrais developed a large number of movement sequences, which he called lessons and which students perform mostly while lying down, although sometimes in upright positions.
For example, a lesson might ask you to lie on your back and move your arms and head in one coordination and then in another. You are asked at the same time, “Please notice how you feel while doing it the first way, and the second.” Since you are able to do both, the distinction is usually small, but one way is preferable. By paying attention, you refine your ability to discriminate between these small differences and to make the choices that are best for you. Gradually, these awarenesses accumulate and deepen, and you find yourself moving in a way that makes you feel better.
Often, a whole lot better!
(1) Feldenkrais, Moshe. The Potent Self. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1985. Page 135.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
The purpose of the skeleton
A couple weeks ago I was working with “Patrick,” a man who for months had been waking up with back pain. He had pain intermittently during the day, but consistently in the morning.
I asked him to show me how he slept. He lay down on my table on his stomach and turned his head this way and arranged his legs like this and his arms like that. All fine. But as I looked more closely, I could see that there were odd things about his ribs. They weren’t going the way one would expect them to.
So, I sat next to him and gently pushed on each rib, a little this way and a little that. I wasn’t trying to put them “in the right place” but to clarify possibilities to his brain. Through movement I was saying, “Dear Brain. You can hold the rib here, or you can shift it there, or there, or there.”
Patrick was taking some big breaths, so I had the feeling that I was going in the right direction. Over time the ribs as a whole were softening, and he looked more comfortable in his sleeping position.
Then it came time to sit. He sat quietly for a moment; he looked nice and easily upright. Then he made the transition to stand, and as he did, he said with surprise, “This feels a great deal lighter than I usually feel.” At my suggestion, he went back and forth between sitting and standing a few times, and the feeling of lightness continued. Then he walked around my room, and felt the lightness also in walking.
He turned to me and, “How did that happen?”
So I told Patrick a story.
About 15 years ago, when I had been a Practitioner for a few years, I went to my annual week of continuing education. In the opening session the trainer, Jeff Haller, asked the group, “What is the purpose of the skeleton?”
Jeff was sitting on one of our low tables while about 20 of us were sitting around him on stools and on the floor. There was a long silence as we reflected. One answer was offered. It was a beginning. Another few offerings were made, but none seemed to hit the mark. Silence returned to the room.
Jeff answered his own question: the purpose of the skeleton is to make the body light.
If you think about an amoeba, he continued, it only moves by projecting a pseudopod against a squishy mass. It can never get very big, and it cannot live outside water. To get bigger and still be able to move, fish developed with vertebrae and muscles to pull against them. To move across land, amphibians developed limbs. And to get the head at maximum height to the ground, apes and humans developed the ability to walk on two legs.
In the process of being human, things happen that lead to a loss of the natural alignment. Then the weight of the body, and particularly the weight of the head, is no longer carried directly over the bones. In consequence, the muscles have to do extra work.
When the alignment is restored, weight is taken off the muscles, and the person feels, in every action, lighter.
I asked him to show me how he slept. He lay down on my table on his stomach and turned his head this way and arranged his legs like this and his arms like that. All fine. But as I looked more closely, I could see that there were odd things about his ribs. They weren’t going the way one would expect them to.
So, I sat next to him and gently pushed on each rib, a little this way and a little that. I wasn’t trying to put them “in the right place” but to clarify possibilities to his brain. Through movement I was saying, “Dear Brain. You can hold the rib here, or you can shift it there, or there, or there.”
Patrick was taking some big breaths, so I had the feeling that I was going in the right direction. Over time the ribs as a whole were softening, and he looked more comfortable in his sleeping position.
Then it came time to sit. He sat quietly for a moment; he looked nice and easily upright. Then he made the transition to stand, and as he did, he said with surprise, “This feels a great deal lighter than I usually feel.” At my suggestion, he went back and forth between sitting and standing a few times, and the feeling of lightness continued. Then he walked around my room, and felt the lightness also in walking.
He turned to me and, “How did that happen?”
So I told Patrick a story.
About 15 years ago, when I had been a Practitioner for a few years, I went to my annual week of continuing education. In the opening session the trainer, Jeff Haller, asked the group, “What is the purpose of the skeleton?”
Jeff was sitting on one of our low tables while about 20 of us were sitting around him on stools and on the floor. There was a long silence as we reflected. One answer was offered. It was a beginning. Another few offerings were made, but none seemed to hit the mark. Silence returned to the room.
Jeff answered his own question: the purpose of the skeleton is to make the body light.
If you think about an amoeba, he continued, it only moves by projecting a pseudopod against a squishy mass. It can never get very big, and it cannot live outside water. To get bigger and still be able to move, fish developed with vertebrae and muscles to pull against them. To move across land, amphibians developed limbs. And to get the head at maximum height to the ground, apes and humans developed the ability to walk on two legs.
In the process of being human, things happen that lead to a loss of the natural alignment. Then the weight of the body, and particularly the weight of the head, is no longer carried directly over the bones. In consequence, the muscles have to do extra work.
When the alignment is restored, weight is taken off the muscles, and the person feels, in every action, lighter.
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