Trailing Off

Last week's post promised a month of uni-tasking, so you might expect this post to be about my first week of doing one thing at a time. And it would be except for the fact that I decided to start that challenge on June first, in order to give myself time to access and indulge my multi-tasking habits. There are many, I found out. June first is going to be a bit of a shock.

I will write instead about my mini-challenge of the week.

Every time I go hiking, I say to myself, "I should do this every day." So this week, I did.

The weather has been beautiful here in Western New York. Taking advantage of this and the abundance of trails that we have nearby, I was able to take a hike through the woods every day over the last week. Each time I went somewhere new. Most often I walked by myself which was nice because it encouraged me to focus on the experience. I find solo walking to be meditative and being in nature, surrounded by lush green trees and foliage, listening to the sounds of birds and moving water is both calming and energizing.

If I do have anything on my mind, and I often do, when I begin to walk, thoughts bubble up. It is the usual monkey mind, brain spinning thoughts, worries, problems. As the trail unfolds, my thoughts trail off. I am transported. Taking in the sights, smells and sounds, breathing in the fresh air, I feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for being alive. Being on the trail orients me in a way, even when I am lost because I forgot what blazes I was following. Lost or not, I know where I am. The earth is beneath my feet. I am surrounded by life. I am a part of this beautiful living earth. My world is not those thoughts that spin in my head. Just because I often live there does not make them my home. Here, surrounded by the splendor of the earth, is where I belong.

Getting a regular dose of connection with the earth has been therapeutic for me. I am emerging from my week of walks feeling stronger, happier, calmer and more energetic. And I didn't have to go far from my house to find my home.

"Stress is basically a disconnection from the earth, a forgetting of the breath." -Natalie Goldberg.

Wishing you balance,

Nance

One Thing at a Time

How many times have we heard that phrase?

One thing at a time.

The moments in which I engage fully in the matter at hand are times of balance and contentment. Yet, my normal mode is to give in to the allure of multitasking. (Just a second. Let me check my e-mail.) Mostly, for me, that means dividing my attention between what is happening in the moment and what is happening in my head. Yesterday, when I received a massage, instead of giving myself over to the experience, I stayed very firmly in my head where the thinking, scheming and planning did very little to encourage relaxation. Last week, I showed up at a dark and empty house for the birthday party of a dear friend because my mind was somewhere else when she was informing me that the party was not going to be at her home.

So today, when I ran across this terrific article about multitasking, I read it with great interest. (Read it. I will wait here. I won't check my e-mail or anything. I will just wait.) AJ Jacobs, the same man who spent a year living according to the literal interpretation of the bible, is at it again. This time, he challenges himself to do only one thing at a time for 30 days. You may know that I love setting up experiments for myself- the latest one was a month of dancing every day. The first thing I thought when I read the article was how much I would like to try it too. The second thing I thought was that I am certain that it would be impossible. So, I have decided to try it, but with some modifications. For instance, if I am sharing a meal with someone, I will converse with my dining companion rather than focuses solely on eating. I will allow the radio to be on when I am cleaning or cooking. Is this cheating? Perhaps, but when I consider the purest approach to this challenge it stops me in my tracks. It seems impossible.

OK. Thirty days. I will let you know how it goes.


Wishing you balance (and that is all I am doing right now, nothing else),

NJ

No Force

I have recently become interested in a form of moving bodywork and self-healing called Breema. This interest led to me to purchase the book Self-Breema: Exercises for Harmonious Life by Jon Schreiber and Denise Berezonsky which I have spent the last week ravenously reading. Not only a movement system and a form of body work, Breema also offers a philosophy for balanced living based on nine principles of harmony. What has most resonated with me and which I admit I have much to learn from of late is the principle, "no force."

As the book states, "Force is a relationship between separate entities, an energy that moves something outside of itself."

This simple idea has inspired a radical change in my approach to my work as a therapist. As I give a massage using my hands, I could think of my hands as separate from me and separate from the muscles they touch. I could think of myself, also, as separate from the earth beneath my feet. All separate entities. My hands, my body, the client, the earth. Approaching the work in this way, my hands, lacking connection to my body, exert force, subjecting them to stress rather than working from the energy, movement and weight of my whole body. Without feeling a connection to the tissue with which I am making contact, I use force to move or effect a change in those tissues. Instead, if I think of my hand and my client's body as existing in unity with one another, change is brought about willingly. Without feeling a connection to the earth, I must summon up all my strength and weight to affect that change rather than feeling the solid support of the earth and allowing that support to flow through me.

Letting go of force requires a quiet listening, a peaceful presence, an unhurried inquiry into what is happening. It is about connection and support, a unity through which movement and change are welcomed.

No force.


Wishing you balance,

Nance


Photo by Gregory Colbert. Click on photo for link to his Ashes and Snow exhibit website.

On Worry

There is a saying that comes to mind these days-

Worry is like paying interest on a debt that never comes due.

Worry seems to be in the air. My friends have worries. My family has worries. I have worries.

There are so many worries to have. Health worries. Health insurance worries. Job worries. Money worries. Relationship worries. Worries about the future.

Worries. Worries. Worries. Big Worries.

Mark Twain said, "There has been much tragedy in my life; at least half of it actually happened."

Worry causes such suffering. It can be easy to get swept up in it. After all, we have good reason. Bad things happen. Our worries so often, however, take on a life of their own. We make up stories which feed stories. A comment someone makes at work starts a trail of thoughts which end with us living alone and hungry on the street. A phone call that isn't returned starts a cascade of paranoia that has you obsessing about what terribly offensive thing you might have done. And how unlovable you are. There is always that.

When I look back at all the things on which I have spent emotional energy, I realize that so much of it was needless. Issues that seemed so pressing at one time, often blow over; the problems I anticipated, never coming to fruition or at least not being as traumatic as I expected. Other problems weren't even a slip of a thought and yet they blindsided me with full force. Bad things happen. Worry wouldn't have prevented them.

Not that worry is all bad. On the contrary, worry is an appropriate response to many situations. They say that anxiety actually makes you perform better. When I am worried about a lesson I am about to teach, I plan it a little more carefully, and the result is a stronger lesson and a more confident delivery. Worry informs us. It makes us take action. We fight. We flee. We see a problem and we seek a solution or at least a way to make things easier or a way to deal better what is happening.

The trick is to acknowledge the worry, allow it to have it's role, but to not let it run the whole show. Once again, it is all about balance.


And balance is what I wish for you, as always.

Nancy

Rule Number One

When I was in massage school someone had posted a list called The Rules of the Game" on a bulletin board. A fellow LMT reminded me of it when she posted the rules on her facebook page.

Here is rule #1-

You will receive a body

(You may like it or hate it, but it will be yours for the entire period this time around.)

In one of my classes, the students are required to write their own "Body Story," which is the story of how they have come to develop their attitude about their body. The students write about all sorts of things including early movement and sensory memories, stories of injuries, athletic training and triumph, posture, the joy of moving freely and the challenges of adolescence. Often the women will write about the pressure that they feel to look a certain way and to be a certain weight. Almost all of them mention how difficult it is to eat healthy and exercise as a college student.

For the most part the stories tell a tale of love and hate. We love our bodies because they allow us to run fast, dunk basketballs, juggle, dance freely; they feel great when we eat well and exercise; we hate our bodies because we are not the weight we want to be, because someone was critical of the way we looked, because we experience pain, and because our legs are thick, bowed, knock-kneed, pudgy or skinny.

Sondra Fraleigh, with whom I studied somatics, said that the potential outcome of a somatic relationship with the body was that it allowed you to chose your body. This does not mean choosing how you would like to change your body, and it is even more than a genuine acceptance of the body you have. What it means to me it is that the body that you have is the very one that you want.

And why shouldn't it be? It is the one you have. That doesn't mean that your body is perfect. It doesn't mean that it won't change. It will.

You received a body. This is the one you have. Might as well appreciate it for its gifts. Treat it well. Nourish it. Pay attention to it. Nurture it. Challenge it.

Enjoy it.


Wishing you balance,

Nancy

Dancing Through March- Week Four

This past week, I did as I promised. My dances were an exploration of an area in my back- a small specific place that is creating what I might describe as an intense localized sensation.

Pain.

This little area- so small, but so effective in calling for my attention. I once heard it said that pain is "attractive." What an odd word to use, I thought. But yes, it does a great job in attracting the attention. The attention that I give to the area runs the continuum of annoyance to frustration to despair. This week, I decided to give the area attention in the context of inquiry.

How does my back wish to move?

This was the question I asked each time I danced this week.

Often the dances started out very slowly. Sometimes the movements were microscopic; at other times they were big and undulating. The one thing that was consistent about how I moved, throughout this week, was that it was always a surprise. That makes sense though. I wasn't imposing the movement, but allowing it to arise so I didn't know what would happen.

And here is what I learned. I learned to sense my back in a way I had not sensed it before. I have thoroughly studied the muscles and bones of the back of course. I teach classes about the spine. I am always surprised when students say that until they took my class, they thought of the spine as one large bone. I know differently of course. I know all about the back. But this week, I learned about my back.

It was Isadora Duncan who said, "What one has not experienced, one will never understand in print." I experienced my back this week, understanding it at a level that I wasn't able to before, despite all my knowledge. I learned to isolate my latissimus dorsi. I learned that my scapula are mobile and can slide in every direction with ease. I learned how to direct my breath right into that spot that keeps demanding my attention. I learned just how fluid my back can truly be as I was no longer experiencing it as one big piece capable only of the gross motor movements of spinal rotation, side-bending, flexing and extending. To experience movement in the back as rivulets of enlivened motion is thrilling indeed.

Here is something else that I learned. My first reaction to pain and stiffness is often frustration. Frustration followed by worry. I don't want the pain. I resent it. I want it to go away. This week, rather than meeting my pain with resentment and trying to get rid of it, I tried instead to accept the state that my body was in and to explore it instead.

The pain is not gone, but it has diminished significantly. In fact, most of the time I am unaware of it. The difference has been amazing.

Consider making an appointment for a Somatic Rebalancing session in order begin to bring movement to those spots that are calling for attention.

Wishing you balance,

Nancy

Dancing Through March- Week Three

The highlight of my dancing week was attending a Saturday Night Yoga Trance Dance. Since I have been on the lookout for a place to dance my heart out with other people- a place other than a club, other than my own living room, a situation other than a dance class that I lead; I was excited to try out it out.

I am glad that I did. The space was beautifully set up and welcoming. There were enough people there that you felt the experience as shared, but not so many people that you felt like you needed more space in which to move. The music was great; driving, pulsating drumbeats that begged for movement. Our facilitator lead us through some prana initiated yoga poses at times during the evening, but I never felt as if I had to follow any directions exactly and I mainly used the suggestions as starting places from which to explore my own movement.

What I found remarkable about the evening was how free I felt to respond to my impulses to move. We all have our habituated movement patterns and when I dance, I usually find myself repeating certain phrases again and again. Not that this is necessarily bad. I dance in a way that feels good to me, and those phrases feel good. But this time was different. I found new phrases. It was as if my back came to life. No longer flexing, extending and rotating as one big unit, I was able to explore incredibly detailed articulations in my spine and scapula- flowing movements, undulations, waves and circles...and the coolest thing was that at times, I felt like my body was moving me, rather than the other way round.

And this thought kept going through my head-

We don't do this! We don't move like this. Our culture doesn't have anything built into it that would articulate the spine like this. If we all moved with this kind of abandon, with this much flow, with this much detail, on a regular basis, from a young age, just think of how different our relationships with our backs would be!

My back has been bothering me for over a month, a recurrence of a chronic problem. As with all pain, it is trying to tell me something. It is calling out for movement and for touch. So, for the remainder of March, as I continue to dance, I am going to extend an invitation to my back to express itself.

Click here for more info about the Yoga Trace Dance and ongoing yoga classes at Physikos.

Enjoy the dance and as always....


Wishing you balance,

Nance