Putting the brakes on

I am learning how to walk again, really.

With the help of the Alexander Technique and a gifted teacher, I am re-learning my body's natural way of moving. I wondered if I were crazy when I quietly observed that I don't know how to hold my body anymore. And, yet that thought lingered. Low and behold, a process and a teacher appeared.

I have been examining the idea, even dreaming, about what holds me up and how I respond to that. I envision a cord or string as if I am a puppet and moving at the puppeteer's whim, not mine. And how gliding through the water is such a very different experience. One that seems more natural and freeing for me. In the pool, there's a palpable balance between being buffered by the water (relaxing into it) and in control enough not so sink. The yin/yang of trust and being. Bridging the spiritual and physical. Living in two worlds. I identified it once in my journals as the place between being the vigilant mother and the innocent child. Again, one of those liminal spaces.

I am attempting to be like a toddler again, physically. Moving in my natural patterns and rhythms. Before I modeled others and felt so "pushed" in this culture.

At the beginning of a recent lesson, Jennifer asked me: "Where are you right now?" You can't imagine how I struggled to answer. I began to talk about how I felt, what I had left behind to attend the session, everything but where I was. She patiently would ask again until I answered very simply. I kept looking to give her the answer I thought she wanted (yes, I am a pleaser who seeks approval). This was an eye opener, revealing that I am usually more concerned about where I have been or my next destination, mentally or physically. I have rarely considered my literal placement – except when practicing yoga, swimming, meditating or worshiping in silence "How can you know how to get where you want to go if you don't know where you are?" she gently asked.

What a significant and profound concept. How can I know where I want to go if I don't know where I am right now even just physically? Or in the bigger questions of life.

We have also talked about taking the brakes off, another concept that really speaks to me. Specifically, freeing the joints to move without a metaphorical foot on the brake pedal. No wonder I get frustrated thinking I am getting nowhere. The brakes are the puppeteer's string I mentioned earlier and they are hard to unencumber, yet I am learning how to disengage by thinking/being rather than doing.

Wow, imagine where I could be by taking the brakes off and knowing where I am. Nothing more, nothing less.


• How present am I physically?
• Would I describe my movement as intentional, natural or free?
• Do I even remember what that feels like?
• Are my brakes on?
• If I could relax them, where would I be?


I tend
to
forget
my
physical
self


assuming
its there
and
functioning


yes,
I often
get
painful
reminders,
which
require
attention


but
the root
of how
I move
remains,
largely,
unexplored

I cast
this
part
of me
aside
and below
the mental,
spiritual
and
psychological


because
it's almost
too obvious

how
do I
achieve
balance
and wholeness 
without
considering
all of
me?

Precipice of change

I feel as if I am on the precipice of change and my only job is to savor the moment, enjoy where I am. RIGHT NOW. Not yesterday or tomorrow.

That's big for me. Probably for most of us. So often, I am worrying about what already happened or darting ahead to what has yet to be with no groundedness in the present. Sure, there are periodic moments and I have even experienced phases. Quieter times of slower intention or forced spells of exhaustion.

This time, I am choosing to live here. Observing, participating with much less attachment and effort than usual and getting myself out of the way. A TALL order. I have been this way about five days and have no idea how long it will last. Doesn't matter. I am here now.

Things aren't bothering me as usual. I am not feeling so personally invested, offended, judged or hurt. Stuff that would once have appeared damaging actually feels like a blessing. I am floating here enough to have not checked out, but be disengaged from the usual drama.

I an aware that a series of events preceded this:
– A twinge of new energy creeping into my right hip and leg, penetrating an old wound and tightness  after 12 years.
– A monumental fissure someone else close to me has also experienced.
– New insight into a troubling dynamic thanks to an old book with current wisdom about how some behaviors are just how people are and nothing against or about me.
– A workshop on conflict resolution that insisted that friction is normal, necessary AND creative. It helped me identify how I have reacted in the past and how I can tap my creativity to work in a healthier manner.
– A revelation that I am fighting myself they connect and are happening simultaneously.

There are possibly many more of which I am not currently cognizant. However, my response is one of gratitude to whatever has aligned to bring me here. To the now. To a peacefulness. No matter what the duration.

– How often am I aware of the moment?
– What nudges or nurtures that?
– How much do I get in the way?
– How do I move out of the way?
– What do I have to let go of to reach this place?




comfortably
sitting on
the edge


legs
dangling
over


not
a care
or
worry


feeling
the light,
warm
breeze


listening
to the
leaves


as I
haven't
in a
very
long
time


they
call
to me


as they
always
have


it's only
now
in
this
time
and
place
and
mood


that
I can
hear


sitting
on
the
edge


legs
dangling
over

Another brick [in the] wall

Ever feel like there's always a wall you hit? Something not necessarily tangible, but rather an invisible obstacle?

I often meet that impediment in the morning trying to get out of bed because that simple action really hurts. Once I do get up, however, the barrier recedes, eventually disappearing. I face it again when I am stressed, overly tired, too busy or pressured. That – for all of us – happens constantly.

Maybe your wall is something else. For me, it's elusive, but never far away.

I've been ruminating on why I feel like the mainstream of our culture rushes in a one-way pattern and just how much energy, gumption, motivation and self-awareness it takes to swim against the current or divert out of it and into a calmer tributary. It exhausts me to even think about it, yet it requires a persistent, intentional action.

I've also been analyzing how I hold my body and why I don't move with the flow and grace I once did – or, at least, imagined. I do in spells, but not consistently. I'm sure age has something to do with it, but I also believe being so indoctrinated in our culture and forgetting what comes more naturally gets harder the farther we gravitate from childhood, when we let our bodies and nature speak more clearly to us.

While my soul searches for its natural place, my body struggles to keep pace. I want my physical self to catch up to my spiritual self or reside in the same vicinity. There is some disembodiment. That's a word I heard repeatedly at a recent conference and often from one particular young woman, who really understood this dilemma. I recall my massage therapist affirming my remark upon returning from an overseas trip that I really didn't feel here yet. He said I had physically traveled too fast for my body to catch up and performed his magic to bring me back together.

I can not keep pace with this world. Our family just returned last night from a 36-hour trip to Michigan for a wedding. It was a wonderful event, but so whirlwind I feel I didn't experience any depth. When we emerged from the car at the church and were immediately embraced by loving family, I could have used some transition from roadtrip grunge, kid-battling and exhaustion to being the loving person who could accept this marvelous gesture. Midway through the Mass, I had.

Modern life just seems to rev up and, at a time, when I am ready to slow down and actually enjoy the ordinary. Like being a kid in a group that stirs up the water in a pool so strongly in one direction, then tries to move in the opposite. It can be done after meeting with a lot of resistance.

I guess my wall is the grain of convention, against which I push, [or it's pushing against my nature] aiming away and toward where my heart and spirit call. Not easy, yet I can't conceive of moving anywhere else.


• Do I ever feel a wall, resistance or obstacle in moving toward where I am called in my life?
• How have I named, examined, removed or tamed it?
• Where do I naturally fit into the mainstream of life?
• Do I ever feel pressured to go with the flow?
• Where has that taken me?


so easy
to get
caught up
in the
wild tide


of
normal
life,
whatever
normal
means
or is



and,
at times,
much
less effort
to float
with
the
swift
current


than to
stop
and swim
the 
other
way


what
if the
other
direction
is my path?