I wrote about exploring the motions of my internal organs with Tom last month. That was cool. A bit trippy, a bit woo-woo, but really cool. My whole body felt like it was vibrating after all that consciously-directed breathing. Our respiration rhythms affect every system inside us – organs, bones, muscles, fascia, even cerebrospinal fluid. It makes sense that it would be valuable to pay attention to, especially when re-establishing communication in an impaired system.
It gets even better, though. We’re looking at the system as a whole here, where every part of my body participates in some way for every motion. Every single motion. Kind of like no matter where the baseball is hit in the field, every player moves to support the play. This is about making a World-Series-winning season out of the ‘teamwork’ within my body.
So, I'm turning it up a notch by looking at the finer details. I just spent a couple weeks out of town working with some really incredible movement people. Since being home, I’ve been working at initiating movement in seemingly unrelated places: reaching my arm by thinking about the effort coming from my hips, rolling over to sit up by starting with my ‘tail’ instead of my arms, or linking my organs to an intent in the outside world through leading with my esophagus. (I didn’t come up with these, believe me.)
… Your first question is probably “what do those even look like?” with your second being, “what are you smoking….”
Nothing actually, but check this out. I’m working to find stability while perched on moving surfaces, without relying on my arms. I’m sitting on a rotator-disc which glides on ball-bearings, Stephanie is helping me press with my right leg, and my left is the only stationary contact.
That’s the key: I have to find, or make, my own stability. It’s the exercise equivalent of being self-reliant. By taking my arms off the ladder, I must ‘root’ down into my hips and feet more to sit upright. In this case, that means lowering my own impression of my ‘center’, the origin or anchor of my movement, shifting it from being based in my easy-and-strong shoulders to my harder-to-connect pelvis.
It may be hard to see that process here exactly, but you can get a sense simply by how upright I’m sitting with only minimal help from my hands on my thighs.
So, where did this crazy-talk of lowering the center and initiating movement from my esophagus come from, anyway? And why should anyone besides movement-nerds care about it?
Let’s find out in the next post...