Tag Archives: Moshé Feldenkrais

Vices – #resound11

Did you slip back into any old habits that you wish you hadn’t? Did you gain any new habits that you wish you would have walked away from? Did you discover the evils of Nutella? ‘Fess up … we won’t tell.

Cropped screenshot of Mae West from the traile...

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“Vice” is such a good, old-fashioned word.  Juicy and judge-y, you know it’s gonna be good.

I’m reminded of the quote by Mae West (although it is often attributed to Helen Gurley Brown). “Good girls go to heaven — bad girls go everywhere.”  Well, I’ve always wanted to go everywhere. I love a little innocent mischief, and all the pleasures of the flesh — in moderation. So alas, no vice for me.  I’m too active with a busy practice and happy home front at this stage of life to have the luxury of vice and debauchery.  But habits?  NOW we can talk!

My work as a teacher of the Feldenkrais Method, is, in large part, about recognizing habitual patterns of action:  one’s own first, and then those of others.  A habit is not necessarily a “vice.”  Moshe Feldenkrais said that habits are good, as long as you can break them whenever you want.  Funny, isn’t it?  We try to develop “good habits” over the course of a lifetime, and to eliminate or break the “bad habits.”  Whether the habit is judged to be good or bad, more important to me is the element of mindlessness.

Is mindlessness a sin, or a vice?  I guess it depends on the vocabulary you are comfortable with.  As far as “doing things I wish I hadn’t,”  well, sure.  And the characteristic they all share is mindlessness.  That automatic, without-thinking-clearly, default, knee-jerk, “why am I doing this when I know it doesn’t work?” state that is too often recognized in my metaphorical rear-view mirror.

My worst habit is worry and fretting, triggered in one very specific field of my attention.  In almost every other domain of life, I am action oriented, and recognize worry as an ineffective strategy and a time-waster.  However, with great regularity, I begin to fret.  My fretting takes me out of action and gratitude, and throws me into fear.  And when I am in fear – no bueno.

This fear and frustration launches a tired old story in my head, about couldawouldashoulda, and ain’t-it-so-hard, and gigantic pity party.  And I have to watch myself and hear myself inside my head, and say, “Cut it out!”  The sooner I change my frame of thinking, the less damage I do.

I’ll do almost anything to stay out of fear.  I’ll even muzzle myself and discount my needs and desires so as not to “rock the boat,” or piss people off, or make sure that a situation remains harmonious.  Those are reactive behaviors.  Mindless reactivity is the habit that I am now keenly aware of.  And awareness is the first open door. . .

Mindlessness is an auto-pilot.  I guess we all teach what we most must learn.  Mindlessness creeps in to eating, drinking, social interactions, movement through shared space — it’s freakin’ EVERYWHERE, once you start looking.  But it all starts right here.  Look no further.  It’s on the doorstep.

Feldenkrais brings me back to paying attention.  It brings me back to myself, helps me to come to my senses, and to feel effective in taking appropriate action when necessary.  With that mindfulness comes a growing compassion, for myself and for others.  That seems to be a pretty good foundation on which to begin a new year.

How about you?  Habits, patterns, mindlessness?  Please leave a comment.

[I'll be writing daily -- ish -- each day in December, as part of #resound11. Join us here.}

Feldenkrais and The Right Recipe

Quiche Lorraine-2009

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I really enjoy cooking. There was a time when I didn’t enjoy it — but that was then, this is now.

I’m the kind of cook who uses a recipe only as the most general suggestion or guideline of how the preparations will proceed. If it is a new recipe, I will probably follow it more closely the first time — but maybe not. I improvise a lot — substituting ingredients, changing things up in the seasoning department, and generally managing to invent something that bears only slight resemblance to whatever was on the page.  My cooking  style continually frustrates my friends who ask for recipes.  ”I don’t really have one,” I say sheepishly, as I watch them roll their eyes again.

For the open house last weekend, I had planned to purchase some of those wonderful little appetizer quiches that you can get at Costco. Well, they were out. So I decided to make them myself. I found several recipes online for mini-quiches you can make in a muffin pan. With a bit of mix and match, I combined the best features of each into a recipe that made sense to me. One recipe had very few eggs, but almost three cups of milk and cream, along with cornstarch to thicken it up. Another had more eggs, less liquid — that seemed like a better idea. The original recipe also called for shallots and zucchini. I used onions instead of the shallots, and for another batch I used broccoli instead of zucchini. Added a dash or two of Tabasco sauce, and took one suggestion to put cheese in the bottom of each muffin tin so that a crust was unnecessary.  The finished product was tasty and satisfying.  You couldn’t eat just one!

A recipe is a great place to START.  For me, it is rarely the final word.  Over a lifetime, your own preferences and techniques are sure to emerge. A little more garlic, a little less salt.  No onions for this friend, vegetarian version for that one. Double the recipe to make enough sauce.  Learning occurs each time you return to the recipe,  so that you can make improvements that suit your tastes and circumstances. This applies not only to cooking, but also to most other kinds of instruction and learning.

Moshe Feldenkrais was interested in learning.  Not the kind of learning that seeks to produce a standard experience for everyone, but learning in which each person can develop and express their own individuality. The Feldenkrais Method has lots of “movement recipes” to experiment with and improvise upon, to re-awaken your appetite for movement and life. We have some ingredients you might not have tried before, or have forgotten about. You’ll be delighted with the results!

Have you had a recent experience at a Feldenkrais class that you’d like to share? Tell us about it in the comments.

Crustless Mini-quiches for simple breakfast.
This is a “mash-up” from several sources.  Feel free to vary the recipe to suit your own tastes or whatever you have in the fridge.
You can use a standard size muffin tin, or a mini-muffin tin.  Do not use a large muffin size — you might as well just make one big quiche in a normal quiche pan.

6 large eggs
1/4 to 1/3 cup half and half or heavy cream
salt and pepper
nutmeg, about 1/8 tsp (ground nutmeg or grate your own)
Tabasco sauce (optional): a few good dashes
olive oil
2 shallots, minced (or use as much minced onion as you like)
2-4 cloves of garlic, minced (more or less as you like)
a large zucchini, ends trimmed, grated.  You want a heaping cupful. Can use broccoli, finely chopped, if preferred.
1 cup grated swiss cheese (a bit more never hurts)
fresh basil, finely chopped

Heat oven to 450 degrees.

Whisk together the eggs, cream, salt, pepper, nutmeg, and tabasco if desired.  Combine well until it looks even and smooth. You can use it immediately or refrigerate until the next day.  If you use it the next day, whisk it again.

Prepare the veg mixture:  In a non-stick pan, drizzle some olive oil and heat to medium.  Add the garlic and shallots (or onions) and saute until fragrant, about 2 to 3 minutes.  Add the grated zucchini, stir until just starting to soften, about 3-4 minutes.  Remove from heat.

Oil muffin tins well.. Put a pinch of grated cheese in the bottom of each muffin cup, cover with veg mixture (about 1 tsp for minis, about 1 Tablespoon for regular-size muffins). Add a pinch of fresh basil.  Pour some of the egg mixture into each muffin cup, distributing evenly.  It will be about a Tablespoon for minis, fill regular tins to 3/4 full.  Top with leftover cheese, if you have any.

Bake in 450 degree oven until the quiches are puffy and start to turn golden, about 15-18 minutes.  Let cool for 10 minutes.  Then, carefully run a paring knife around the rim  (and interior edge) of each muffin cup.  Carefully lift each quiche out of its cup.

These can be served hot or at room temperature.  They freeze well, too.  Let them cool, then freeze in a covered container or in a freezer ziplock storage bag.  Reheat frozen quiches on a cookie sheet, 400 degrees, 5-10 minutes.

Variations:  vegetables you like, in combinations you like;  different cheeses (should grate well);  different herbs you like (just be sure to use fresh!).  You could add crispy crumbled bacon, salami, or prosciutto, or ham, Canadian bacon.

Bon appetit!

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I Threw Something Away

The Fronts of the new Tags, Oldest to newest, ...
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Yes, alert the media.  This is big.

I get rid of stuff all the time.  I do the semi-annual give-away-old-clothes-books-gadgets clean out, and have done for years.  But something is different now.  In part inspired by #reverb10, during December I reflected on the past year and envisioned what I wanted for 2011.  One of the reflections was about letting go, actually and metaphorically, and I wrote about that here.  I hired an assistant to come in and teach me how to deal with . . .

Dun dun DUNNNNNN. . .

Paper.

I’ve read dozens of self-help, get-organized books, and have learned to be very well organized in most aspects of my life.  Furthermore, I have several friends who are professional organizers of the highest caliber.  I could sense when one of them would begin to salivate at the prospect of straightening me out, as they sniffed around for their opportunity to ensnare me.  I valued their friendship more than I wanted to risk their wrath and judgment, so I never hired them to help me with what I really needed.  For me, the breakdown was that most of what I read was about how to keep everything organized.  I really wanted to have less to have to organize in the first place.  My previous strategies had reached their expiration date. My prior level of organization was no longer adequate for today’s demands and challenges.  I knew what result I wanted, but I didn’t know how to get there.

My new assistant, who comes for another five hours this Friday,  provided a hub for what I realized were just random informational “spokes” whirling around in my life, poking me, lacerating the surroundings, and good for nothing.  With her “hub,” the spokes have something to attach to — the crucial missing piece.  I am now capable of self-propulsion.

I have become a dedicated and enthusiastic shredder.  I have shredded so much accumulated and outdated paper, that my partner jokes, “Are we closing the Embassy?” I have embraced the ideal of a paperless office, even if I never completely get there.   All information about each of my accounts is available online anyway, so I have stopped most incoming mail from those accounts and vendors.  I’ll be scanning the documents I really do need, so digital versions will replace the paper clogging my file cabinets and my brain. I have external hard drives and cloud storage available to back up my back ups, so I feel fantastic.  I have become pitch-happy, ready to part with almost anything.  If it can be shredded, so much the better.

The title of this post is the spoiler for a tiny event tonight that has changed everything.   It’s not just that I can throw something away:  it’s that I realize I have learned something, and have applied my capacity to think critically and use that new learning instead of using my old habitual “Default” setting of “I must keep this.”  Here’s how it went:

I received my new EZ Tag in the mail yesterday, and went online to activate it. (An EZ Tag lets me go through the “fast lane” on Texas toll roads in major metro areas.) I put the EZ Tag on my windshield, according to the directions.  A print-out showed me my tag number, order number for activation, and my account balance.  I thought:  where do I keep this brochure and the enclosed information?  In the glove box?  No.  In a file?  So as I looked at this packet, I thought:  I don’t need the brochure cover, so that can be recycled.  I don’t need the instructions for how to apply my tag to the windshield, because that is done.    There’s this document that has my activation code — shall I scan it?  Wait a minute.  I have already activated it online.  The only other information on the page is my account balance, which is also available online.

SHREDDER!!!! <zzzzzzzzzzhhhhhhzzzzzzhhhhhhzzzzzzhhhhhh> and DONE.

Moshe Feldenkrais said, “Any adjustment is evidence that learning has occurred.”  Each milestone, no matter how seemingly small, is a marker on a larger journey of progress.  The Feldenkrais Method is based on this kind of gentle, incremental, transformational learning.  When you look back at the baby steps, you can see how far you have come.

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Routines

John Harrison's famous chronometer

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So here we are, a little over three weeks into the New Year.  I didn’t really make resolutions this year, instead opting to begin my action plans before  the calendar flipped the page.  This approach made me much less stressed and burdened with expectations, which is my usual self-inflicted state during the holidays.

I also took the past four weeks (the last two of 2010, and the first two of 2011) to change things up a bit and try to find a better routine for my life and work flow.  A work flow that leaves room for play.  SO far — data incomplete.  I really like to get up early — early early for me is around 6 a.m., and sit down to write.  If I can get all of my writing for the day (750words.com warm-up, a blog post, answer pressing emails, and create any new promotional pieces or correspondence) before about 9 a.m., I am a happy camper.  It hasn’t worked out that way, though.   My blog poast has settled in to the afterthought category.  In light of my commitment to blog every day, I realize around 10 p.m. that I haven’t completed it yet.  I have one in Draft stage, not yet ready for prime time, so I have been writing and creating.  However, I am learning that my peak production time is in the early morning.

Clients come when they will — that’s my whole reason for being in business, after all — and I have organized a schedule so that I see them during my best “people hours.”  By 11 a.m. I am ready to emerge from solitude and my own self care, and begin to care for others.   My best social time is around dinner, an early dinner, by 7 p.m.  And then, I am ready to call it a day.

Moshe Feldenkrais said, “Habits are wonderful, as long as you can break them at any time.”  A habit that can’t be broken is a compulsion — not a healthy or optimal state.  Therefore,  I like to experiment with my non-essential habits. Tooth brushing and bathing are non-negotiable.  However,  fine-tuning my schedule to meet my own productivity, rather than the expectations of others, has been very freeing and enjoyable.  Work or sleep could easily overtake the whole schedule.  Finding the nice balance of a little work, a little play, a little rest, and a little challenge each day is a skill that must be developed and tuned over time.   A routine that is flexible and functional is key to accomplishment.  I am thankful for the freedom I have, from within and without, to design my own best routine, whatever that might be.

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Why Did I Begin?

Typical brands of Potato Chips at a superstore.

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I have been blogging since May of 2005.  Not an early adopter, by any means, but right in the middle of the wave.  For my profession, however, I was on the vanguard.

I had just turned 50! My life was very different than I thought it would be.  My marriage had ended three years previously, after almost twenty-five years.  I had been a college professor for ten years, but the same year as my divorce, I “left town ahead of an angry mob.”  Such is academic life.  And during it all, 2001-2004, I was engaged in the most profound experience of my life:  the training program to become a teacher of the Feldenkrais Method.

I had moved to a new town and was trying to make my way in private practice. I was just beginning to get some traction.  A year after graduation, I was beginning to have a sustaining practice, when some of my colleagues who had been practicing for years seemed to be struggling.  I started blogging because I wanted to share.  I wanted to share my perspective, and I wanted to share my work with a larger audience — with my clients, and with those who might someday be clients — of someone.  I also wanted to share my way of being, and being in practice, and of thinking and speaking about the Method, with my colleagues.  We Feldenkrais teachers tend to be a bit verbose, and more than a little arcane at times.  Upon encountering a thirsty one, we proceed to drown him, when only a cupful would save his life.  In sharp contrast, I like to give people “one potato chip:”  just enough to make them want more.  I have used this ability to create a small but loyal readership for my blog, and to reach out to others. Social media, and Twitter particularly, with its 140-keystroke constraint, is a delightful challenge, and my medium of choice.  Less is more.

I tend to do everything in fits and starts.  The blogging thing, the eblasts, all ebb and flow with my attention and enthusiasm.  However, after several years of experimentation, I think I have finally discovered a work flow that works for me.  I have also noticed some shifts in my self-image.

Moshe Feldenkrais said, “We act in accordance with our self-image.”  This powerful sentence can be interpreted at many levels.  I have only recently begun to perceive myself, and embrace myself, as a writer.  In the past six weeks, I have been acting like a writer.  I see myself as a writer.  I behave like a writer:  I now write every single day.  As I have stopped telling myself, “You’re not REALLY a writer,” as I have stopped discounting my creations as “That’s not REALLY writing,” I have lowered my standards enough that I actually enjoy the process of writing and creating.  I believe in the story I have to tell, the information I have to share, the perspective I have to offer.  It is not the only thing I do, but it is and has become an important part of my self-expression.

In no regard does my self-image as a writer “crowd out” or negate the other things I am: a Feldenkrais teacher, a musician, a mother of adult children; a partner, a WordPress aficionado, a friend, an advisor, a connector.  The web I weave is one that supports me, and those I care about. How much human potential is wasted in the mistaken notion that we can only be, or do, one thing?

And so — my original purpose in blogging has remained true, and has continued to resonate, even after five years — which is a long time on “the internets.”  I hope I continue to grow and adapt, and the blog with me.  I seem to be made for self-expression, and to help others to more fully express themselves. Might as well ride the horse the direction it’s going!

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And We’re OFF! Feldenkrais for the New Year

With 2011 now well underway, we hope you are off to a great start. How is it going so far? Did you make resolutions?

Most resolutions have, as their foundation, an awareness of and a desire for the possibility that things could be different. The problem we face is, as the wise old saying goes:

“Everyone wants things to be different, but nobody wants to CHANGE.”

Change doesn’t have to be difficult, although usually we certainly expect it to be. And that’s where the Feldenkrais Method comes in. When you have an opportunity to practice how to turn your intentions into actions, it just gets easier. That is our stock-in-trade: to give you a little time each day, or each week, to really know what you are doing, and make adjustments from there. Is something working really well for you? Learn how to optimize it. Something not working well? Learn how to tweak it, or overhaul it completely, with equal ease. As Moshe Feldenkrais said: “An adjustment is a successful act of learning.”

Our group classes and private lessons offer lots of opportunities to “field test” new ideas that you can carry into daily life. Check us out — and then notice how things are different.

[Find a Feldenkrais teacher near you at Feldenkrais.com.]


 

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#reverb10 – Day 31 – Ending the Year

Mount Hood reflected in Trillium Lake, Oregon.

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December 31, 2010.  In the past month, I chose to re-dedicate myself to the practice of writing.  I had an attractive “nudge” to do so: the #reverb10 project.

Each day, a prompt for thoughtful reflections would arrive in my email inbox.  Some struck me as silly or juvenile, some really interesting, and some maddening — but all accomplished their purpose, which was to provide inspiration for writing. After Christmas, after 25 days of blogging, it was time for a break.

I’m old enough that it didn’t bother me in the slightest if I did not adhere precisely to the literal surface value of the words in each prompt.  I used the prompt as a “center of gravity,” or as a firm surface against which to push, to gain some traction, and to move forward.    I wrote about comical things, serious things, and I hope that what I wrote was interesting.  I proved to myself that I can write, and I can write every day.

After 25 days, the prompts started to feel repetitive to me.  I also experienced a shift, largely inspired by #reverb10.  After three weeks of devoting myself to reflection, I was ready to emerge from the cocoon and fly, gracefully,  into action. Inspired by several of the prompts, I began to picture the kind of office I would like to have, the kind of home environment I would like to have, and so on — and then I felt full.  Time to stop, and start to do.  As I have written previously here, I launched into a massive re-organization of my office (the bathroom closet and the dresser are next!) and I feel that sunny virtuousness that comes from doing satisfying work that is largely hidden from public view.

“To everything there is a season,” as the Good Book says.  A time to reflect and prepare, and a time to produce, to act, to create. There is too little reflection in our culture and society.  Our actions, personally, nationally, globally, are mistakenly described as bold, courageous, or strong, when in fact they are merely rash and reactive.  Intelligent action requires a prelude of reflection, of careful thinking and planning, or at least noticing — in order to have the freedom to act spontaneously with strength and power.  This is the foundation of the work of Moshe Feldenkrais, and the Feldenkrais Method.

There’s also a danger in spending so much time in reflection that you never DO anything. I think that, as with any appetite, allowing oneself to gratify the urge will eventually establish a healthy limit.  You can feel it when you’ve had enough to eat, or drink — that is, if you haven’t dulled your senses so much that you habitually ignore yourself.  Likewise,  the emotions of sadness and grief might not turn into long-term depression if we simply allow ourselves to feel what we feel, without rushing or judging — until we have had our fill, and are ready to move on.  And so it is with reflection.  Stare at yourself in the mirror long enough, and you’re going to put on some lipstick or brush your hair eventually!  And then, it’s time to take yourself out in the world to do something.

Reflection and action are two sides of the same coin, and both are better for their acquaintance with other.  I think the key is not to imagine some arbitrary place “in the middle” where “we have a balance.”  In that balance is inertia.   No, we need a dynamic balance:  we navigate along a spectrum, as life sometimes requires more action and less reflection, and other times require the opposite.    We adapt, we flow, we live.

[Thanks for reading this month.  Thanks to all the new readers and friends who contributed so much to my world and my awareness as I read their reflections in comments here, and on their own blogs.  I'll continue to write every day, or almost every day, in 2011.  Some of what I write will appear here.  Come back any time!]

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#reverb10 – Day 24 – Everything’s OK

Christmas in the post-War United States

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Prompt: Everything’s OK. What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be all right? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead? (Prompt by author Kate Inglis for #reverb10.)

It’s Christmas Eve.  I saw this prompt in my inbox this morning, and have thought about it all day.  We’ve just returned from a lovely and low-key dinner at our favorite neighborhood Italian restaurant, I’m in my new pajamas (a thoughtful gift from my love, who knows that a day spent lounging is a wonderful and rare thing) and waiting until the next showing of “A Christmas Story” on TV.  It is moments like this — moments of quiet contentment, that seem to melt into the wallpaper — when, if I could only take a breath and NOTICE — and say, “THERE!  HERE!  This is it!  THIS!  THIS!  THIS is the essence of everything that makes you happy!”  – WOW.  Those moments are everywhere.

However — life is like being a fighter pilot.  You know the old joke — “Hours of boredom, punctuated by moments of sheer terror.”  The moments of terror show up as spikes on the long readout tape of life.  They are so loud and distorted, and take up so much bandwidth, that I can easily be persuaded that my life is made up of a series of crises, narrowly averted.

Of course, there’s another way of looking at it.  Moshe Feldenkrais describes a series of meetings with a well-known pedagogue, who taught him how to draw. After a series of  miserable attempts, the teacher said, in effect:  don’t draw the thing.  Draw what is around the thing.  When Moshe began to focus on the “negative space,” the spaces where there was — nothing — the image appeared with great quality and clarity.  I wonder if by shifting my attention to this “blank space,” these plain and everyday moments when there is no crisis, that my perception of contentment would become the norm.

There was a moment, in the last quarter of the year, when a business partner handed me a nice big check.  It represented a lot of concentrated work, and value returned for it.  As shallow as it seems, that moment of receiving that particular check was a moment when I noticed that I was breathing, and that life was good.  Of course, there are many such moments, although they are represented with less drama and splash.  I experienced a similar quality on a spring drive on Texas back roads in search of wildflowers in late March.  I experienced it listening to an inspiring musical performance.  I experienced it in community gathered after the death of a friend.  Somehow, those continual confirmations that “Everything is all right” are too polite — too meek, never forcing themselves into awareness, saying “Look at me!  Here I am!  You’ve got it!”  No.  The perfect moments are wallflowers, the undramatic and everyday events quietly watching from the perimeter, while the glamorous and dramatic challenges get all the attention.  However, polite thought they may be — they are everywhere.  They need only to be acknowledged.

How to have more such moments in 2011?  Well, it’s nice to get checks!  And, I think the way is prepared by simply noticing those moments of contentment, when all is well.  Truth be told, all is well the vast majority of the time.  I’ve found that by counting my blessings, by expressing gratitude, and by simply noticing those moments when all is well — somehow, suddenly, more appear.

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Summer Survival Skills

White Oak and Buffalo Bayous at Main St. after...
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Houston is an interesting place to live in the summertime. When we’re not baking, steaming, or frying in the heat, we have floodwaters to contend with. So much for “Summertime, and the livin’ is easy.” Nerves are frayed, tempers are short, brains are fogged, and schedules get blown to bits.

Everything seems to take longer than planned.  Even simple tasks go into the “Mañana” file.  We beat ourselves up for procrastinating, for being a slacker.  However, taking a cue from your body might be a lifesaver.

I always dread the prelude to football season, which is the state religion in Texas.  In August, the most brutal time of year, practices begin.  ”Two-a-days” are a proud tradition that build toughness, which is apparently the character trait most highly to be prized in young men.  And each year, kids die in the heat at football practice.  Too wimpy?  Nope.  Just part of a culture that preaches “ignore your body, or else suffer the social shame.”  Those kids and coaches need frequent breaks, lots of shade, good hydration, and people who care about individuals as well as the team.  In a sport where head-injuries are placed lower on the “priority care” list than a broken limb, workouts and team spirit can be balanced with common sense.  As Moshe Feldenkrais observed, human beings are the only species in the planet that will willingly harm themselves for no good reason.

How to keep in shape when it’s just too darn hot, or too rainy?  It’s a perfect time to vary your routine.  Be flexible in your mind and ideas as well as in your body.  It’s silly to hold yourself to the commitment “I must run 3 miles every day” when it’s actually dangerous, on a particular day,  to do so.  Still want to run?  Do it early in the morning, before it gets hot.  Or, go to a fitness facility with an indoor track, where it is air-conditioned, and run there.  Don’t run or work outside in the heat of the day.  Stay well hydrated.  Consider a walk instead of a run — the benefits are virtually the same, if you just want to exercise.  How about a swim?  Best of all, try something new!  Go to a dance class, try Nia or martial arts for a change.  Your routine will feel fresh for having changed things up.

“Rest” is also a vital element in an active lifestyle.  Many who are dedicated to their particular workout regime see it as a point of pride to “never miss a day.”  And they wonder why their back, neck, or shoulder hurts, willing to put up with it because “It’s not that bad.”  Those pains are like the warning lights on the dashboard of your car.  They are an indicator that you are struggling with yourself and with gravity.  Stop, slow down, check your form and alignment.  Sense where you are straining — a sign of inefficient effort.  If you don’t stop to rest, you just keep on digging a hole for yourself that eventually you will fall into.  Check your calendar and see how long it’s been since you took a day off from your routine.  A day off, perhaps once a week, may not earn you pats on the back.  But it will make it more likely that you’ll return healthy to the gym.

Those summer doldrums are perfect times for a Feldenkrais class.  After an hour of gentle, mindful movement, I feel lighter, cooler (believe it or not), more coordinated, and mentally awake.  I feel energized and ready to knock out the rest of my day.  While I don’t have conclusive proof to offer, my sense is that there are more accidents and injuries in the summer time because more people are out and doing things, and because, for whatever reason, people aren’t paying attention — to themselves, to their surroundings, to a larger, long-term view.   Mindful movement, with awareness, can re-charge your next workout and improve your overall results.

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Less Is More

It was Monday evening, Memorial Day Weekend, and I sat at my computer, face to face with my old demons.

I realized, bleary-eyed and making typos by the handful as I typed, that I could no longer think.  I had wasted my holiday weekend — working.

Oh, I slept late each morning.  I also went out to dinner, and watched some TV, and hung out with some friends.  I even played and went shopping.  But I also saw some clients, and worked on pressing projects.  And at the end of the weekend, the projects were still pressing.  In fact, I didn’t feel like I had accomplished much. And I was exhausted.

I’ve been a hard worker, and even a workaholic, my whole life.  I like to work.  I like to help people.  I like to be creative and work on projects that make a big contribution “downstream.”  I  LOVE the rush of energy when I am on a roll, and cranking out the ideas, the deliverables, crossing items off the list.  I easily forget the time I spend spinning my wheels, waiting for an idea, and overcoming my natural intertia. And so, work is a great pleasure for me. My demons were not whining, “You work so hard.  You work when nobody else is working.  Nobody appreciates you.”  No, the demons were far, far worse.  They said, “Everyone appreciates you.  You’re doing so much!  And so well.  You have chosen this.  Want some more?”

The irony was not lost on me, as last Tuesday evening I taught a workshop at Houston’s Jung Center entitled, “The Wisdom of Doing Less.”  OUCH!  I shared my recent experience with the group, and received smiles of recognition and acceptance.  I was indeed one of them — not an authority or expert, and so not someone who would judge them. We’re all just doing the best we can — sometimes, better than the best we can — and we all can benefit from a little moderation now and then.

Moshe Feldenkrais devised his ingenious and eponymous Method during a search for recovery from his own crippling knee injuries.  The story goes that the original injury happened during a simple, after-work, pick-up soccer game.  What made him strive, and risk, and behave foolishly — when it didn’t matter at all?  Thus began his exploration of biomechanics and anatomy, as well as his explorations of ego, anxiety, and the human condition.  The primary question raised might be:  how can you do the things you enjoy doing, at the level of accomplishment that you desire — and live to tell about it, none the worse for wear?

The Feldenkrais Method helps me to streamline my efforts:  to work smarter, not just harder.  I look for creative and simple solutions when previously my love of complexity would have gotten me feeling lost and depressed.  I move with less pain, more grace, and greater confidence — and often, I am able to take the metaphors from movement into other aspects of my life.

One thing that has helped me (when I remember it!) is to acknowledge and work with my own rhythm and pace.  I am much more effective, and do more creative, imaginative, and compassionate work, if I see four or five clients a day for four days — rather than four clients on five days.  That’s the reason that I (usually) don’t see people on Fridays!  I ideally pace my work load so that I am a “people person” four days of the week, have a day of solitary pursuits, and then rest  up to do it all again. I’m not perfect in my execution, but as I come closer to the ideal, my clients are the ones who benefit most.  Perhaps you can find a way to schedule your priority work tasks when you are at the top of your game.  Perhaps there are ways to evaluate the priorities overall.

When I’m in tune with my Feldenkrais practice,  I remember that my choices aren’t limited to “either” and “or.”  I don’t have to succumb to the fear that I’ll never catch up (whatever that means), or that I’ll become a huge slacker if I allow myself an extra breath.  I can make more dynamic choices.  Instead of frittering away my time and attention on things that don’t matter, I can let go of the small stuff, and spend my best efforts on the things that really matter.  I need continuing reminders about how to do this.  Luckily, teaching Awareness Through Movement classes each week helps to keep me in touch.  It’s in those moments of doing too much that I can become aware of it.  I can recalibrate my effort and energies so that intelligence, effectiveness, and pleasure in the doing are my major goals.  You can, too!

For a humorous solution for workaholics, visit the website for the International Institute for Not Doing Much, at www.SlowDownNow.org .

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