A Charlie Brown Christmas

    Don't you just love the story about Charlie Brown's Christmas? Poor Charlie Brown. He starts out so sad and depressed by the thought of the upcoming holiday. It seems his depression was exacerbated by the enthusiasm displayed by his little friends who were eagerly anticipating Christmas. He was so disheartened he even sought help from the local psychiatrist. Why he trusted her with his fragile emotional state is a puzzle to me, since there was already some history between them. She never missed an opportunity to knock him down and call him a Blockhead. True to form, her advice appeared to be the psychological equivalent of smacking him upside the head and still charging him 5 cents for her services. Sheesh. That doesn't seem right.

    Everywhere Charlie Brown turned, he was bombarded by Christmas cheer. His depression deepened further when his own baby sister was seduced by the magnetic pull of commercialism brought on by the holiday.  Even his beloved dog, Snoopy, decorated his little house in a gaudy display of lights. Poor Charlie Brown. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. A dark cloud and feeling of isolation followed him everywhere as he desperately looked for the meaning of  Christmas. As a result, everyone started to berate him for ruining everyone else's good time. And the leader of the pack appeared to be his pal and part time psychiatrist.

    Just when it appeared that Charlie Brown was convinced that he was truly as hopeless as some of his playmates assured him he was, one of his friends surprised him. When he showed up with the sad little Christmas tree that he had picked out for the Christmas pageant, his friends once again ridiculed and laughed at him. Again, the pack leader and part time psychiatrist even called him pathetic, which makes me think that she really should reconsider her career choice. Finally, one of his more compassionate and wise little friends came through for him by recognizing that all the tree needed was a little bit of love, attention and a few decorations to turn that sad little tree into a beautiful work of art. And to show Charlie Brown that he really wasn't pathetic after all.

    There are a lot of life's lessons in this story. First of all, it only takes one person to get the train of negativity rolling out of control. Consequently, it only takes one person and one simple act of kindness and support to stop that train, turn it around, and head it in the other direction. Second, any living thing can thrive if you show it a bit of attention. Finally, we can all benefit from a little love, attention and a few decorations to improve our self image. It's just another example of how flexible we are, how fragile we are, and yet how strong. Our nervous systems are always listening, and responding to the input we receive. Be gentle; with yourself and with others.
 
    Oh, and one last thing....choose your friends and your psychiatrist carefully. If they are smacking you upside the head, either literally or figuratively, it just may be time to let them go and move on. Most of all, be healthy!

Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Christmas tails, Santa Paws, and best friends....



Tails of Christmas past....from left to right....Topo Gigio, Jaime, and Guido

It turned out to be a pretty good day....in spite of myself.

    I started out my weekend in pretty low spirits. When I woke up Saturday morning, I couldn't shake off the bad mood I was experiencing. It didn't help that my very sweet little geriatric Italian Greyhound had crawled into bed with us the night before and had become incontinent sometime during the night. Sheesh. I felt the weight of the world coming down upon me. I also felt like the entire world's population was looking to do the same thing to me during the day that my little dog did the night before.

    I jumped out of bed, sprinted through the kitchen past the fresh brewed coffee that my husband had just made and directly to the laundry room. I washed the sheets, cleaned the mattress and cleaned my little dog. The nice thing about an Italian Greyhound is that they rarely require baths. All you have to do is take a damp cloth and polish them up a bit.

    Speaking of polish, by the time I finally got to my coffee, I noticed that my house could use a good cleaning. I'll be honest....I am a terrible housekeeper. It's not that I object to cleaning. Sometimes I even enjoy it. But lately I have been preoccupied with other things, and my house has been suffering from neglect as a result. My spirits were sinking like a stone. So was my energy and my motivation. I had a hard enough time getting my second cup of coffee, let alone cleaning the house.

    Finally, I made a deal with myself. Just get up off of the couch, clean one room, and crawl back into bed. Pretty appealing, now that I had clean sheets and everything. I put down my coffee and took the dark cloud that was my new best friend along with me to halfheartedly start cleaning. However, once I started moving something funny happened. I cleaned one room and then another. I mean, I was already moving, so I might as well keep going. I giggled when I realized how many cleaning products I had in my cabinets. I had to dust them off before using them, which proves how long they've been sitting in my cabinets waiting for some action. I guess they work better when you actually use them. All of a sudden I was in a better mood, and the dark cloud that had hovered over me early in the day began to move on to ruin somebody else's day.

    I felt my energy and my momentum started to surge, so I decided to keep moving. I cleaned a few closets and collected some clothes to give to charity. After all, I wasn't wearing them. I cleaned the pantry and gathered a few more items to give away. Who really needs three crock pots, anyway? I pulled a few pictures off of the wall, rearranged them, and selected a few more to give away. I had to smile as I thought about the people that would be so happy to receive the items I was donating. All of sudden I realized how fortunate I was that I had a house to clean, possessions to donate, dogs to take care of, and a cabinet full of cleaning supplies.

    Sometimes you just need to start moving. Movement is good for your spirit. Sometimes you need to make a few changes, no matter how small. Change is good for your mind. You always need to love and take care of your animals, even if they did just pee on your bed. It's good for your heart. Remember to give things to people who are less fortunate than you. It's good for your soul. Take time to be grateful for what you have and even for what you don't have. Gratitude fills your life with joy. Be honest with yourself, especially when you are in a bad mood. Honesty opens you up to unlimited possibilities to learn new patterns. You might be surprised what comes forth.

    I have discovered these simple truths over the years, especially during the course of my Feldenkrais training.  But every now and then I can still get a little lost and as a result get in my own way. Sometimes even a bad day is full of opportunities to learn.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP     

And the journey continues....

   It takes a tremendous amount of courage for a woman to walk into a testosterone infested  Dojo and begin training. It also takes an enormous amount of trust. I had neither. I was scared to death for the first two years. However, the guys were incredibly tolerant, gentle and patient with me. Most of the time I was the only woman in class, and they dutifully took turns working with me. I thought that was awfully magnanimous of them. I soon discovered that it was because I was prettier and smelled better than any of the guys, even on my worst day. They had plenty of opportunities to work with each other, and they seemed to enjoy tossing me around for a change.

     Even though I was enjoying the classes, I was still incredibly intimidated. I was a good student, not because I was interested in going up through the ranks, but out of a strong sense of self preservation. In keeping with my good humor and to hide my perpetual state of terror, I hid my fear by setting some ground rules. So, I told the guys that they were permitted to kick me, punch me, throw me and pin me, but for Heaven's sake, don't mess up my make up. That would make me mad. After all, we all have our limits, and it's good to set boundaries.

    It's funny to remember how my friends responded to my sudden interest in martial arts.  I had some impressive bruises during the first year, and many of them encouraged me to quit. My girlfriends just knew I would get hurt, and some had the audacity to suggest that I was too old. That did it. I was determined to stick it out for at least another year. I would quit when I was good and ready to quit, and on my own terms. Have I ever mentioned my incomparable stubbornness?

   Some days I would go straight from ballet class to the Dojo. Some people thought I was nuts. Sometimes I thought I was nuts. In reality, it was good cross training. But during this incredible journey something really strange happened. My experience slowly transitioned from the physical training to something deeper. My nervous system was responding to my newly discovered patterns of moving and sensing myself in this new environment. The term is called neuroplasticity and refers to our ability to learn new things by responding to changes in our environment.

    So, something inside of me changed. It was slow and subtle, but it was there. My intimidation  turned into awareness. My fear changed into confidence. My incomparable stubbornness developed into Spirit. My humor and acceptance about my gender, size and age led me to the understanding of my limitations as well as the acceptance of my possibilities. My lack of trust transformed into self compassion. And now, with each rank I achieve I experience an overwhelming sense of humility. And respect. For myself, and for my art.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

And that's how the journey began....

    Eight years ago I began my training as a martial artist. Full disclosure; I did it on a dare. I honestly thought I would take a few classes and then quit. After a month or two, I realized how much I enjoyed the classes. However, I wasn't going to continue training. I had proved a point, and now I could quit at any time with my dignity intact. I didn't know why, or how it happened. I just kept showing up. As intimidated and terrified as I was, at least twice a week I found myself in the Dojo, wondering what I was doing there. I knew I wasn't going to stick with it, and I surely wasn't ever going to test. I could certainly remain a white belt since I would be quitting soon, anyway.

    After three months of training, one of the guys badgered me into testing for my yellow belt. I didn't want to do it, but sometimes all you have to do is say the wrong thing (or in this case, the right thing) to get my blood boiling and have my incomparable stubbornness come rearing up to the forefront. So, I tested for my yellow belt. Three months later, the same guy taunted me to take the next level test. (Who was that masked man, anyway)? So, I tested. I knew I would probably be quitting soon, but at least I had two yellow belts to show for my efforts. And as proof to any one who may doubt me in the future when I told them about my six month long martial arts career.

    In spite of myself and my cavalier attitude, I learned a lot in those six months. I finally learned how to tie my belt properly, even though that skill took a full six months to master. I learned the Dojo etiquette and proper manners. I learned how to suppress my giggles during the meditation and formal bowing in at the beginning of class. I learned that I didn't have to be badgered into testing, and after my third test I realized that I didn't have to cry after each test. Not that I would cry in the Dojo; I always waited until I was in the privacy of my own car. But, after that third test,  I discovered that it was far more rewarding to go to the mall and buy something pretty instead.    

    However, the most valuable thing I learned was where the back door was just in case I ever wanted to make a fast exit in the middle of class. After all, I was going to quit soon, so why even wait until class was over?
 
    And thats how my journey began....


Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

What I learned on my Thanksgiving vacation.

    My three day Thanksgiving vacation was rich with learning experiences. I discovered how restful, restorative and rejuvenating three days can be, if you just let go of expectations. I found out how much fun winter hiking is, as long as you dress appropriately. I realized that it really is possible to cook a full Thanksgiving dinner in an unfamiliar kitchen, no matter how small it is.

        Life is full of opportunities to learn. All we have to do is let go of expectations, dress appropriately, and get a little adventurous! 

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

What I did on my Thanksgiving vacation.

    Most people do something extravagant and memorable for their 25th wedding anniversary, like going to Hawaii or the Caribbean for a week or two. We kept it simple. We combined our anniversary celebration with our Thanksgiving holiday and spent three days in Estes Park.

    Estes Park is located north of Denver and is at the foot of Rocky Mountain National Park. It is also the home of the historic and beautiful Stanley Hotel, where we got married all those years ago. We spent the next three days visiting the hotel, hanging out with the local residents, hiking a few trails, and cooking a Thanksgiving dinner in small, unfamiliar kitchen. All in all, it was a great anniversary and the best Thanksgiving we've ever had!
    

Having our photo taken under the watchful eye of the hotel's founder, Mr. Stanley.

The grand staircase.

Relaxing in the lounge.



Hanging out with a local resident.

The locals enjoying their Thanksgiving feast. 

Just another day in paradise.

On top of the world after a brisk walk in the park.

Planning my strategy for cooking a complete Thanksgiving dinner in uncharted territory. 

Be healthy!

Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Giving thanks....a special Thanksgiving.

    I have always loved Thanksgiving. For me, Thanksgiving marks the end of fall, and a quiet time for reflection before the mad rush of the Christmas season. This Thanksgiving is even more special as my husband and I celebrate our twenty fifth wedding anniversary.

    So, I approach this holiday, as usual, with time for quiet reflection. And as I look back on the cornucopia of blessings that have been showered down upon me over my lifetime, the most precious and most sacred of all was the one I received twenty five years ago, when I looked into the eyes of the man I love and said those two simple words that changed my life forever...."I do."

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Looking back....on the end of a season.

    I love the autumn. I always have, and I always will. I love everything about it. I love how the long, hot, summer days transition into the short, cool days of fall. The days are shorter, but so much brighter and more beautiful. It's almost magical watching the trees slowly change their deep green leaves to  vibrant yellow, gold, scarlet and orange. I love watching the pumpkins and corn stalks appear, and seeing the fall festivals in full swing. It's harvest time. A time to reap the final rewards of the end of a season of growing.

    After the heat of summer, fall feels like a glorious relief; a time of renewal, of new beginnings rather than endings. Of looking back on a year gone by as we put on heavier clothes, close our windows against the cold nights, snuggle in and prepare for a long winter even as we watch the beautiful colors unfold in nature's kaleidoscope. With each leaf that falls, I always have a sense of joy and peace, as that one leaf goes out in a blaze of glory, with grace and dignity. The leaves pile up on the ground for the gentle breezes to lift them into their last graceful dance until they come to their final resting place, and wait for the snow and ice of winter. I love autumn.

    Last year I had the opportunity to spend the entire autumn in Western Pennsylvania. I was able to witness the end of another season. I lived in my childhood home, watching the trees turn their brilliant colors, the leaves fall, the acorns litter the ground and the days grow shorter and colder. I watched as the Halloween decorations went up. And came down. I watched as the Thanksgiving decorations went up. And came down. I took long walks in the woods and around the neighborhood where I grew up, marveling at the colors and the slow change of season as late summer turned to one of the most beautiful autumns I have ever experienced. I was there for the season's end, and felt the bitter cold, snow and ice of winter descend upon us.

    Both of my parents died last fall, in the autumn, the season that I love so much. As heartbreaking as it was, the truth is that this was one final gift from my parents to me; that I could enjoy one last autumn with them. I watched as their season ended, as their days became shorter and fewer, and how they came to their final resting place with grace and dignity. Their strong will, spirit and irrepressible humor never faltered during the end of their season. The strength that they displayed in the final months of their lives was very touching, endearing and inspiring. They fought for each other as they battled the end stage of the same disease together.

     As their adult child, you think you know your parents and the dynamics of their relationship. However, it was incredibly revealing and humbling to witness the level of intimacy between two people who have spent over 60 years of their lives together. I was deeply moved to witness many private moments between them, experiences that I have shared with no one else, respecting their privacy to the very end. They knew they were both dying, but still shared an appreciation for each other and the life that they built together.

    There have been so many gifts and blessings that have come from this final autumn in the lives of my parents and the time that I was blessed to spend with them and my sisters in their last days.The end of a season is no less lovely than it's the beginning. The sun setting is no less beautiful than the sun rising. In some ways, it is even more beautiful as we celebrate two lives well lived, two people who loved each other unconditionally, and who certainly lived life to the fullest!
     
    Looking back, when I come to the autumn of my life, I can only hope that I can approach it with the same degree of grace, dignity and quiet pride that my parents did. I want to fall like an autumn leaf, in a blaze of color,taking my last graceful dance to my final resting place. I hope to have the peace that comes from knowing that my work here is done, and that I have served my purpose well.

    It is also my wish for you.

George and Mara

Be healthy, and live well!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Agendas, propellers, and life's simple pleasures.

    My sisters and I often joke about the tribal belief system under which we were raised. We start  each day with a schedule and run around as if we had little propellers under our feet until we complete our Agenda. We  even refer to our Agenda with a capital letter "A", as if to give it more importance and reverence. Any interruption or obstacle in our Agenda causes mild consternation and a flurry of reorganization to make sure that every item on our list will be successfully completed. Although we laugh and tease each other about our Agenda, it's even funnier how we take turns admonishing each other to take some time for ourselves and slow down!  So far none of us are taking the bait.

    Last Saturday was a beautiful fall day. I kept looking out of the window as I composed my Agenda and started revving up my propellers. But, something wasn't working. Maybe my propellers needed a tune up. Maybe I needed a tune up. I knew I needed something. In a completely uncharacteristic act of spontaneity, I threw my Agenda in the recycling bin, looked at my husband and said, "I need a change of scene. Let's get out of here."

    After I did look over my shoulder to make sure the Agenda wasn't trying to crawl it's way out of the recycling bin and back into my hand, we got in the car and drove. We ended up in a small mountain town which is a popular tourist attraction. However, on this beautiful fall day the town was almost deserted. We walked along the street, marveled at the warm, bright sunshine and soaked in the casual, rustic atmosphere of this small town on a lazy afternoon. 

    Those few quiet hours were more restful and restorative than I ever could have imagined. I also learned a lot on that lazy afternoon. I learned that some of lifes' simplest pleasures can be the most gratifying. I realized that it's okay to let go of our belief system to allow for new experiences to come forth. I discovered that if we cling to our Agenda it will have power over us and keep us from enjoying a fulfilling life. I also discovered that even propellers need a day off every now and again.

    Here's hoping you give yourself permission to let go of your belief system, release your Agenda, turn off your propellers, and take the time for yourself to enjoy life's simple pleasures.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Feldenkrais Your Pilates

 
  I just completed teaching a three week series applying the principles of  Feldenkrais Awareness Through Movement(R) lessons to Pilates. I began each class with two or three classic Pilates mat exercises, followed by a Feldenkrais Awareness Through Movement lesson (ATM). After the lesson, we repeated the Pilates mat exercises to notice any changes that may have taken place in the student's experience of the exercises.


    The first workshop began with the Pilates mat exercises The Hundred and Leg Circles. I taught my favorite  ATM "Movements in Opposition." The basic principle of this lesson is, quite simply, when something goes forward, something goes back. After the lesson, we repeated The Hundred and Leg Circles.


    The second week we began with The Hundred, The Swan, and The Single Leg Kick, followed by the ATM "The Spinal Chain."  The basic principle of this ATM is how to access individual segments of your spine through spinal flexion. It explores flexion from the bottom of the spinal chain verses the top of the spinal chain. After the lesson, we once again did The Hundred, The Swan, and The Single Leg Kick.


    The third week we began with Pilates mat exercises The Hundred, The Saw, and The Spine Twist, foolowed by the ATM "The Five Lines." This lesson facilitates the concept of sensing the length of your spine, arms and legs.  Once again, after completing the lesson, we repeated the Pilates mat exercises.


    None of the workshop participants had previous experience with the Feldenkrais Method. However, all of them had experience with Pilates, both with reformer work as well as mat classes. While the focus of Pilates is on stretching and strengthening your muscles, Feldenkrais focuses on moving from your skeleton and accessing your nervous system in a gentle but powerful way to allow for new movement patterns to develop.


    During our discussions at the end of each class, all of the participants stated that the Pilates exercises were easier, lighter, and more fluid. They reported less neck strain when doing The Hundred and a stronger, deeper contraction of their abdominal muscles. Interesting, isn't it? Especially since Feldenkrais focuses more on moving from our skeleton rather than moving from our muscles. Many of them were surprised to find less shoulder strain and improved range of motion when repeating The Swan and The Single Leg Kick. Especially since "The Spinal Chain" is a lesson in spine flexion, and The Swan and Single Leg Kick are exercises in spine extension. It was a beautiful example of how movements in flexion facilitate extension. I love this stuff!


    One of the ladies exclaimed "It's like magic!" It's not magic, it's really quite simple. It is the intelligence of our own nervous system that finds more efficient ways of moving when we create the environment for it to happen. We can then move through our Pilates exercises effortlessly and elegantly, while working smarter, not harder.
      

"Feldenkrais....making the impossible possible....the possible easy....and the easy elegant!"



Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Barefoot in the grass. Another example of neuroplasticity.

 
 In my Feldenkrais Advanced Training last month, we talked about going barefoot. Barefoot walking, barefoot running and even barefoot hiking. Yikes! I can't even stand the thought of walking barefoot in my own home, let alone in the great outdoors. Feet were meant to be kept out of sight and supported by shoes. I used to believe that going barefoot was somehow uncivilized. However, after listening to my colleagues relate the richness of their experiences of walking barefoot, I was intrigued. I was curious, but skeptical as I considered the subject.

     My feet often hurt. Walking barefoot would hurt even more, wouldn't it? But I couldn't stop wondering what it would be like to be barefoot outside. So, during the next break, I ventured outside. I looked around to make sure no one was watching me. After all, I didn't want to look silly. I slipped off my shoes and socks and stood on the sidewalk. It was uncomfortable at first, but then the sun-warmed sidewalk started to soothe my feet. I could feel the small pebbles and imperfections in the sidewalk. I took a few steps, and the coarse, warm concrete almost felt good. When I went back inside, still shoeless, I marveled at how smooth and cool the hardwood floor felt on the bottom of my feet, something I had been oblivious to the past three days.

    When I went home that afternoon, I wondered what it would be like to walk in my yard barefoot. Cautiously, I took off my shoes and socks and attempted to walk across my yard. Well, that hurt! I stood still, getting the nerve to hobble back to my shoes when something strange happened. My feet began to relax and mold to the shape of the ground. The earth beneath my feet was comforting. I started to slowly walk across my yard, enjoying the texture of the grass as I walked, noticing the change in the temperature as I went from sun to shade. I continued walking, aware of a new sense of flexibility and dexterity in my feet. I was immersed in the sensations coming through the soles of my feet. This was fun! And, my feet felt wonderful.

    I started playing in the yard in my bare feet, feeling a childlike curiosity as my nervous system responded to the primal activity of going barefoot. My feet were contacting the ground like little cat paws. I didn't know my feet could do that!  I got really courageous and stood on the river rock bordering the lawn. Wow. What seemed absolutely impossible a few hours ago had turned into a fun, interesting and completely gratifying somatosensory experience! The flexibility of my own nervous system over rode the cognitive part of my mind and my preconceived belief that going barefoot was bad, uncivilized, or that it would somehow damage my feet.

     By simply changing my belief system, I was able to enjoy a rich, rewarding experience. It made me wonder how many other new experiences I may have missed out on simply because of my personal belief system. Most of us hold ourselves back from trying new experiences, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem. Maybe we are afraid of getting hurt, looking silly, or being ridiculed for doing something different or unconventional. Even worse, perhaps we feel that we are too old to learn or try something new.

    The truth is, it's the simple things that bring about significant changes and a new sense of vitality to our lives. So, go ahead, try something new and different. You may be surprised how good it feels.


Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Moose and squirrel....a glimpse of Colorado wildlife.

    For some reason, this year has proved to be most gratifying in experiencing Colorado wildlife. I thought I would share some of these sightings with you.

MOOSE

SQUIRREL

DEER

ELK

ITALIAN GREYHOUND

    This last one is Bruno, my Italian Greyhound, letting you know that it's okay to get a little wild sometimes!

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

The kindness of strangers.

    I spent a lot of time back East last fall. I love autumn. And I love the outdoors, as long as I don't have to get too dirty. There is a beautiful park not far from my parents' house that had some nice hiking trails. I spent a lot of time in that park and on those trails.

    One late afternoon I went to the park for some serious exercise. I climbed the familiar trails and started to feel adventurous. So, I wandered off the trail and went exploring. It was exhilarating! The weather had started to turn cooler and I could feel the dampness and the chill in the air even though the sun was shining through huge white clouds. I loved the fall colors and the smell of the woods. Fall has always been my favorite season, and I was having a great time. Eventually it was time to head home.

    I turned around, reversing my tracks toward the trail, the parking lot and my car. Along the way, in a spirit of playfulness, I began playing ninja games in the woods. I turned  my wilderness expedition into a little martial arts training. I was happily balancing over a log that had fallen across a small creek when I realized something wasn't quite right. What was I doing standing over a creek? I didn't remember any creek. I shook off a sense of unease. I began reversing my path once again, certain I could find my way back to the trail.

    I wandered about for another half hour before I came to the obvious conclusion. I was lost. In the woods. By myself. With no cell phone. I tried to orient myself to my surroundings, figure out which direction would take me back to the trail, and tried again. Nothing looked familiar. I started to get worried. I wasn't even sure if I had told anyone at my Mom and Dad's house where I was going. I finally came to a steep incline. At the top I could see the reassuring sight of a neat little neighborhood. Surely somebody would be home even though it was the middle of the day and the middle of the week. They could point me in the right direction back to the park.

    Relieved, I walked up the hill onto some one's back yard. I heard snarling. I looked up and found myself face to face with a snarling, drooling German Shepard that must have outweighed me by about 20 pounds . Uh-oh. I lowered my eyes and began talking softly to her, hoping she would calm down. I was hoping I would stay calm. What I was really hoping was that her owners were home and would keep this bad day from getting worse. The front door of the house opened and her owners came out.
 
    I explained where I had been, and said that I had wandered off of the trail. Would they please point me back in the right direction to the park? They exchanged a funny look. "Where did you say you were?" the young man asked. "Well, I was hiking in Hopewell Park. I just need you to tell me how to get back to the trail." There was that funny look again. The young man said, "I'll take you there." "Oh, no, I don't want to inconvenience you," I protested. "Ma'am," he replied, "you are a good long way from Hopewell Park."

    By this time the German Shepard was wagging her tail and licking my hand. We got in the young man's truck and he drove me back to the park. It took over twenty minutes to get there. "Wow, I guess I did wander pretty far off of the trail," I said, rather sheepishly. My kind escort dropped me off at my rental car with a gentle admonition about staying on the trails next time. I assured him I would. But at that point I was pretty sure I was done hiking that park for good.

    The truth is, there are times in life when get lost, either literally or figuratively. Perhaps we get carried away with our own enthusiasm or sense of adventure and wander too far off of our chosen path. We can become so disoriented that we start going around in circles, expending a lot of energy but going nowhere. Maybe we are simply not paying attention. Maybe we have wandered so far off track that there is no way of getting back without help, or in my case, the kindness of strangers.

    On the other hand,  veering off track helps expand our horizons. Stepping a little way off of the path can lead us to new and uncharted territory. It can open us up to new ideas and new possibilities. It can help take us out of our habits and patterns that may be holding us back from achieving our full potential, or getting more satisfaction and joy out of life.

    And sometimes the teeth of a German Shepard is actually a smile disguised as a snarl, but I wouldn't count on that one. Here is hoping you have many safe adventures, and may you never lose your way.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

The buck stopped (us) here. A lesson in boundaries.

    We went hiking in  Rocky Mountain National Park last week. We were happy to be in the mountains and see the beautiful fall colors. We chose a trailhead that was at the base of a picnic area where dozens of people were making all sorts of loud and delightful noises. I figured that meant the trail would be busy with other hikers. That ruined our chances to see any wildlife. Oh, well.

    We hiked about 300 yards up the trail. The trail was deserted. I heard a noise in the woods to my left. I grabbed my husband's arm and whispered, "Mike....look!" We saw two female elk with a young calf, less than 30 feet from us! Never before have we come this close to a small herd of elk. My husband immediately pulled out the camera. He whispered back, "Oh, wow! The calf is nursing!" He was so focused on taking pictures that he didn't see what I saw next.... a huge bull elk had quietly appeared out of nowhere and was staring us down. Uh-oh.

    "Ummm, Mike," I whispered, "There's the bull!" No response. Trying to stay calm, I said again, "Mike! There's the bull!" I tried to smile at the enormous beast (the bull, not my husband) and assure him that we meant no harm to him and his family. My husband finally turned to look at him. After he regained his composure, he started walking toward the huge buck to take his picture. The elk responded by running and turning in place, letting us know he was ready to charge to protect his territory and his family if necessary. He walked across the trail and stood there, blocked our path and stared us down once again. He lifted his huge head and began swaying it slightly to show his rack, another form of aggression. His message was loud and clear. We were in his territory. We weren't welcome. We were crossing the line in the sand and overstepping our boundaries. We weren't respecting his personal space. That bull was prepared to defend his home, himself and especially his family.

    We slowly and quietly started to tiptoe backwards down the path (no easy feat in hiking boots). We didn't turn around until the bull turned away from us to check on his herd. Once we were off of the trail, we couldn't even speak to each other. We were overwhelmed by the experience of what we saw, as well as relieved that the bull had the grace to stand his ground without charging at us, and gave us the opportunity to leave in peace with our dignity intact.  

   
    There is a lesson in boundaries from this experience. It is important to set boundaries for yourself. It's important to respect the boundaries set by others. It's important to respect someone else's property. It is especially important to be respectful of someone else's family. It's okay to come in to some one's territory when you are invited, but understand what the limits are, and don't push them. You never know where the bull is, quietly watching and ready to charge. Just in case the need arises.    

The female elk grazing in the woods.

The young calf getting some nourishment.

Need I say it?


Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Roller Coaster Ride

   What kid doesn't love an amusement park? The rides, the fun, the cotton candy. There was a great amusement park that was popular when I was a kid. A day at White Swan Park was every kid's perfect outing. You just never knew what would happen there.

    The summer before my fifth birthday, our church had a family picnic at White Swan Park. All of the kids were in heaven as we ran around from ride to ride with our parents closely supervising us. We came to the pride of the park, the roller coaster, named "The Mad Mouse." The roller coaster had individual cars, instead of a chain of cars linked together like a train. It also had a series of bumps at the end of the ride, each one a little bigger than the previous one. I was put in a car with my oldest sister. It was great fun until we got to the series of bumps.

    We hit the first bump. I flew up in the air and landed halfway out of the car. My sister grabbed me and was pulling me back into the car when we hit the second bump. I flew further out of the car. I was  hanging out of the car, bent at my waistline and my fingers dangling toward the track. Even in my panic, I could feel my sister frantically grabbing at the only thing she could get a hold of....the waistband of my underpants. I could see the grown ups screaming below me. My mother, who was about seven months pregnant at the time, was running along the tracks with her arms outstretched as if to catch me. Just as we hit the third bump, I thought to myself, "This can't be good. I'm going over and I've never seen my Mom catch anything in my entire life."

    Fortunately, my sister's strength and the elastic waistband of my underpants both held out as the  young man operating the roller coaster finally realized what was going on and slowed down the ride. He was white and shaking as the little car holding me and my big sister came to a stop. The grown ups came rushing up to make sure I was alright, and I noticed that my mother wasn't looking so good. It must have been the pregnancy.

    I was a little embarrassed by all of the attention. To divert attention from myself, I broke away from the crowd and ran off to the next ride. The grown ups marvelled at my resilience.  My Mom still didn't look so good. But, it was a beautiful day, we were at White Swan Park, and everyone was having a marvelous time.

     Life's a lot like that day at the amusement park. Everything can be going along just fine when life throws a series of unexpected bumps. Sometimes you are flying by the seat of your pants. Sometimes you are hanging on by a thread. Sometimes you have to accept the fact that you're going over, and hope that there is someone to catch you. Another interesting observation is that kids are more resilient than their parents. Most of all, I believe that if there are people to support you and love you through life's bumps in the road, it's a whole lot easier to recover.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

What I learned on my summer vacation.

    During my three day long summer vacation I helped my niece with her summer project. (See post dated 9/19/11). This incredible experience was rich with learning opportunities. Not only for my niece, but also for myself. And my sister. What did I learn?

    First of all, never underestimate the difficulty of a 5th grader's summer project. Be careful about being too confident. Don't say to yourself, "How hard could it possibly be?" You are about to find out! Summer projects for 5th graders can be incredibly challenging, difficult and time consuming.

    Second, adult confidence can be easily shattered by a 5th grade project. When that happens, it's best to step back, take a few breaths and remember that you are the adult. If your confidence is suffering, imagine how the ten year old feels. I discovered if I treated the entire experience as an exercise in mental gymnastics, the project became more fun than work. As a bonus, neither one of us became stuck and were able to keep focused on the experience of the process, not the final goal. That helped keep my stress levels under control. I can't speak for my niece, but if my stress levels were low, I'm guessing hers were as well. Consequently, if I started to panic, I'm betting she would, too.

    Third, find a way to create an environment of support.  Ask questions, initiate open ended discussions, share ideas, but keep your personal biases to yourself. This gives your child the space and freedom to allow their creative energy to flow. It might be tempting to take over and do most of the project yourself, or superimpose your own ideas. But, where's the sport in that? And what does the child learn from that experience?

    Fourth, you can't allow exhaustion and the looming deadline to get the best of you. Stop. Take a break, take a walk, use your eye drops, but keep thinking and talking about the project. Once you unleash the creative genius in a ten year old, there's no stopping her. Her creativity and her energy are limitless. I also discovered how supportive an eight year old brother can be when his sister is faced with a difficult task. I always knew my nephew was exceptional, but his patience, maturity and support as my niece and I spent hours working at the dining room table was very touching.

    Fifth, I learned how much fun it is to read the same book as a ten year old and talk about it together. I also discovered that nothing is impossible when you work together as a team.

    Finally, I learned that I will ask ahead of time if any projects are on the agenda are so I can read the book in advance.

     My sister learned that when her children are entering a new school, the "Welcome Package" isn't always 100% complete. Sometimes a small bit of information may be missing, like the fact that her child has 2 mandatory projects over the summer. She learned that her sister rocks, but she already knew that! Oh, and she also learned how to duck when a golf ball comes flying at her. But that's another story. I'm just glad she has quick reflexes.

    The truth is, we encounter rich and rewarding learning opportunities every day of our lives. We can ignore them, grumble about them, or refuse to participate in them. We need to recognize these opportunities, honor them, revel in them, and make each one count. We may be surprised by what we learn!

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

What I did on my summer vacation.

    When I visited my sister and her kids two months ago, I was recruited to help my young niece with her summer project. Unfortunately, my sister had just found out that my niece had two mandatory projects over the summer. What the other kids had all summer to complete, my niece had about a week. And I had three days to help her. I was up to the task. After all, she is only ten years old and starting the 5th grade. I have a master's degree. How hard could it be?

    The first day, my niece sat me down at the dining room table. She explained that she was required to develop a board game based on the book she had read. Okay, that seemed a little challenging, but again, how hard could it be? Another sister had already bought all of the supplies. My niece had finished the book the night before. I was looking at a blank board game, unmarked play money, blank white cards (what were those for, I wondered) and a blank white book that we were to somehow turn into a "Rule Book." I was clueless on how to begin, but confident I could help her pull this together.

    I asked my niece to give me a book review so we could get started. She began to enthusiastically tell me about the book. I was getting confused. I asked her a few questions. She answered them, and my confusion got worse.  As my confusion grew, I noticed her face starting to fall as she watched the expression on my face. Her voice became less animated and more uncertain as she started to look worried. My own confidence was beginning to falter, so I changed tactics. I picked up the book and told her, "You just give me an hour alone and I will speed read this baby. Then we can talk about it and get a better idea of how to get started."  That was fine with her and she ran off to relax with a little bit of television.

    I started to read. Fifteen minutes later my head was swimming. There were so many characters introduced in the first two chapters that I couldn't keep them straight. I began taking notes. Thirty minutes later I was getting a headache. Forty five minutes later it was time to go pick up my nephew at his baseball camp. I took the book and read in the car. Good thing I wasn't the one driving. We watched my nephew play ball. I yelled and cheered just enough to embarrass him while I read the book. We took the kids to lunch. I took the book to lunch. I was in serious trouble. This little project was proving to be a whole lot harder than I had anticipated.

    By the middle of the second day, I was halfway through the book and was able to begin to talk about the story and the characters with my niece. We started planning our strategy for the board game, including ideas for the Rule Book. I figured we would tackle the money and the blank white cards later. Since I felt I had a good grasp of the story line, the characters, and already figured out the ending, I was done reading the book. I checked that off of my to do list, and we spent the next few hours discussing ideas as my niece drew several drafts on paper.
   
    Confident once again that I had the situation under control, my niece and I discussed the story as she showed me what her ideas were. During the discussion she dropped a bombshell regarding what happens during the second half of the book. "What?" I exclaimed. "Oooops," she replied, "I don't want to ruin the story for you." Well, she didn't ruin the story, but she did ruin my day. Sighing, I told her to stop working. The new twist in the book wasn't going to work with the rough draft she had started. I picked up the book again and started reading. She went to relax with a bit of television. Where were the other adults? They were hard at work on the golf course. Of course.

    I finally finished the book the next morning. My niece and I spent the entire next day working on the project. She put the finishing touches on it just before we adults went to dinner that evening.


     Viola! She and I had done what I thought was impossible. We finished the project in 3 days. Of course, we spent at least 8 hours each day working together, not counting the extra time that I was reading the book or thinking about the project.

    My husband and I left the next morning before anyone else got up. Exhausted, the characters of "The Westing Game" were still swirling in my head as we went to the airport. My husband got an upgrade, which he generously gave to me. As I settled comfortably in United's business class, I had to smile. Out of all the summer vacations I have ever had, this one was the best!


    The finished project:

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT GCFP

Home is where the heart is....

    I went back to visit my sister and her family last month. For the first time in 33 years, I drove past the exit that took me to my hometown and to the house where I grew up with my four sisters.  The house that my father had built. The house that my mother had made into a home. I tried not to look at that sign as we drove in the opposite direction, away from the place that I referred to as "home" for over fifty years. Both of my parents died last November. My younger sister  moved away from the area and closer in to the city 2 months ago.

    As my husband and I drove passed the exit and continued on in the opposite direction, I wanted to grab the steering wheel out of my husband's hands and turn the car around. I wanted to yell, "No! We go this way"!   If I could only turn the car around, I was sure I could turn back time and go home again, where my Mom and Dad were waiting for me. As usual, I ignored the emotional tsunami building inside me that threatened to sweep me away. I said nothing, blinked back tears, and stared straight ahead. I guess that explains why I get headaches.

    But, the closer we got to the city, I started to feel an unusual sensation. The sensations grew stronger as we drove through the neighborhood where I had lived, worked, and played during my junior and senior year of college. I finally recognized what I was feeling. It was excitement and anticipation. I was happy to be coming back to an area that was home for me during the last two years of my college life. I did a different kind of growing up (and a lot of it) during those two years.

    I spent those two years in clinical training at a huge teaching hospital. I also spent a great deal of time in that same hospital during the last year of my parents' lives. Of course, most of that time my heart was heavy with sadness and my mind was full of worry. I wasn't able to appreciate returning back to the neighborhood that I knew so well and loved so much as a college student.

    But as we drove through that neighborhood and I pointed out the familiar surroundings, I felt at peace. I had a sense of coming back home again, in a different way. A circle closed. The beautiful thing about a circle is that once it closes, it has no end. It continues to move. In spite of struggling with the loss and grief of saying goodbye to both parents and my childhood home, I was back home again, in a different way, at a different time of life.

    Home is where the heart is. Most of us have several homes during our lifetimes, in the physical sense as well as the emotional and spiritual sense.  We leave a little bit of our heart and ourselves in each one, and we take a little part of each home to live in our hearts forever. If you think of it that way, we can go home again. All we have to do is open our hearts.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Free your neck...

    I remembered this helpful tip when I strained my neck last week. Give it a try and see if it can help you, too. For the sake of simplicity, I will give instructions for working with the left side of your neck. However, feel free to turn the directions around to work with the right side if you wish.

    1) Sit on the edge of a firm chair with your feet on the floor. Slowly and gently turn your head side to side. Notice how far you can easily turn without stress, strain, or the feeling of tension. Pay attention at what point the tissues of your neck begin to tell you to stop moving. Do not go beyond that point.

    2) Take your right arm across your chest and place your right hand gently on the left side of your neck. Keep your thumb together with your fingers. Gently explore the soft tissue of your neck and shoulder. Don't press or dig into the tissues. Experience the sensation of your hand touching your neck and your neck touching your hand. Take the time to allow your hand to fully connect with your neck and shoulder. Explore the size, shape and contours of your neck and shoulder. Lower your arm. Stop and rest.

    3) Place your right hand to the left side of your neck. Gently lift your shoulder toward your ear and lower your shoulder back down. Slowly, gently, lift and lower your shoulder. Many times, very slowly, making small movements. Let your hand explore the changing shape of your neck and shoulder. Stop. Lower your arm and rest.

    4) Place your right hand to the left side of your neck. This time, as you lift your shoulder to your ear tilt your left ear toward your shoulder. You are bringing your ear to your shoulder and your shoulder to your ear, then return. Slowly, gently, many times. Your right hand provides comfort and support as you bring your ear and shoulder toward each other and back to your resting position. Listen to the quality of your movement as you make your movements small and slow. Stop, lower your arm, and rest.

    Notice the sensations in your neck and shoulder. Slowly and gently turn your head side to side. How does it feel different now? What is the quality of movement as you turn your head side to side? Is it easier to turn your head? How do your shoulders feel?

    The ability to "listen" to yourself unlocks the key to self care, self help, managing stress and taking control of your own life. This goes beyond the physical discomfort that we all experience at different times in our lives, but extends into the mental, emotional and psychological aspects as well. This level of awareness allows us to take care of ourselves when appropriate. It directs us to ask for help when indicated. It gives us the wisdom to know the difference.


Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov PT, GCFP

There's a car in our living room.

    It was late winter. It was late enough in the evening for it to be dark outside, but not so late that my 2 older sisters and I were in bed yet. I was 4 years old.  My mother was working on a project at the dining room table. My oldest sister was doing her homework at the kitchen table. My other older sister was in the corner bedroom that the three of us shared. My father wasn't home.

    I had just put my pajamas on and walked into the dining room to my Mom, turned around, and asked her to snap up the back of my "jammies". Just as she started, a horrible series of explosions rocked the house. I fell over backwards and could hear myself and my sisters screaming. My mother immediately reacted and yelled, "Girls, the house is blowing up! Quick, get your coats and shoes and get out of the house!"

   My sisters and I dutifully ran to the hall closet with our Mom close on our heels to make sure we got our coats and shoes on before leaving the house. (You may be wondering why anyone would insist on grabbing our coats when the house was exploding. If you are thinking this, I guarantee you have never spent a long, cold winter in Western Pennsylvania).

    Anyway, as we were grabbing the appropriate outerwear, our mother looked back into the living room and said, with obvious relief in her voice, "Girls, girls. It's OK, it's just a car."  We looked back with her and, sure enough, you could see the blinking red tail lights of a huge green station wagon that had gone through our picture window right up to the stone fireplace!

    Just then our neighbor showed up at our door. The poor man was hysterical and inconsolable. His family was with him, all equally upset. It was their car that had come crashing through our window. They had just come home from an evening out. He had parked the car in his driveway. He and his family (thankfully) got out. He opened his garage door, turned around to get back in his car and pull it into the garage, and the car was gone.  Unfortunately, he forgot to put the car in park, nor did he engage the emergency brake. Oooops.

    We lived at the top of a hill. Well, almost at the top. Our neighbors lived across the street and slightly above us. They watched in horror as their car rolled down their driveway, across the street, picked up speed and momentum to come crashing through our window. I can't imagine what that experience was like for them. As upset and terrified as we were, it must have been even worse for them, wondering if anyone had the misfortune to be in the living room at the time. Had anyone been in there, they would not have survived.

    Our Mom took us a few houses down where another neighbor looked after us. She comforted our neighbor and his family. She realized that as bad as the situation was, it could have been much worse. She knew she had a mess on her hands and that my Dad was in for a huge surprise when he got home. But her family was safe. I remember sitting next to one of our neighbor's boys in front of their fireplace as he peeled an orange for me. Even though I had been through what could be considered a trauma, I knew all was well with the world. I was safe. I was in front of a warm fire, and I was eating an orange. The grownups were in charge. They would figure it out. And fix it.

    There are several life lessons in this little story. First of all, even if your world is exploding around you, you still need to get your coat and shoes on to protect you from the elements. You made need them. Second, no matter how much you are suffering, someone else may be suffering more, and needs your reassurance and comfort. Third, it's important to use your emergency brake. You never know when it may come in handy. Last of all, oranges in late winter is a luxury. Especially if your house just blew up.

Be healthy!

Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

The quality of touch....

     We use our hands constantly during the day. But, do we really appreciate the quality of our touch? Our hands and fingers are highly sensitive with many nerve endings that send messages back to our brain and tell us how to respond to our experience of touch. So, how can we awaken our sensation of touch?  Try this little exploration:

    1) Sit on the edge of a firm chair with your feet on the floor. Place your dominant hand gently on your leg. Take a moment to allow your hand to soften. Let your hand contact your leg and your leg contact your hand. Take a few moments to fully connect with the sensation of your hand and leg touching each other.

    2) Begin to gently lift and lower just your palm away from your leg and back down to your leg. Your fingers stay in contact with your leg the entire time. Lift your palm, lower your palm. Your fingers will gently come toward each other and slide against your leg as you lift your palm. Your fingers slowly slide against your leg as you lengthen your fingers and lower your palm. Do this many times, very, very slowly. Stop. Let your hand rest on your leg.

    3) Lift and lower your palm against your leg. This time, as you lift your palm, let your fingers slide toward each other, bringing your fingers and your thumb together. Now allow your fingers to open up again and slide back down, reversing the movement until your fingers are long and your palm is on your leg again. Do this slowly and gently, really listening to the quality of the movement. Stop. Rest with your hand on your leg.

    4) Lift your palm from your leg, let your fingers slide toward each other and come together. Now, lift them off of your leg (as if you were picking a piece of lint off of your leg).  Then allow your fingers to open completely, lower your hand back down onto your leg with the palm contacting your leg first, and then the fingers. It's an undulating movement. See how you can make this movement smooth and continuous. Pay close attention to the quality of your movement. Stop.

    5) Once again, let your hand rest on your leg. Let your hand contact your leg and your leg contact your hand. Take a moment to gently press and release your entire hand into your leg. How has the quality of your touch changed? Are you more aware of the sensations in your hand? Could you imagine touching a baby, stroking a beloved pet, or touching the face of a loved one, with such a quality of touch? Perhaps you can even touch your own face with the same amount of awareness, caring, and sensitivity. Stop and rest.

    Using our hands as an instrument to communicate to others is a gift. The gift of touch also helps us communicate with ourselves and our environment. Our hands can comfort, caress, create, and heal. The possibilities are endless, so why not cherish the gift and nurture the quality of our touch?

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

 

More stormy weather and neuroplasticity. The legacy continues...

    Two weeks ago I went to visit my sister and her 2 young children. One of my duties was to help my niece with a school project. It was a summer project that was due on the first day of school. Yikes! I'm glad they didn't assign summer projects when I was a kid.

    One afternoon, my niece and I sat at the dining room table and worked on her project. My nephew was upstairs alone playing wii. All of a sudden, the sky grew dark and thunder began to rumble in the distance. My niece looked around nervously as lightning started to light up the sky. I asked her if she was scared. She said no. What about your brother? She assured me that he would come downstairs if he got scared.

    The storm got quite violent. After a particularly bright bolt of lightening and ear deafening thunder clap, we heard the sound of little feet running down the stairs. My nephew came around the corner, and I asked him if he was scared. No, he said, he just wanted to check on us and make sure we were alright. Uh-huh.

    Another  lightning bolt lit up the sky, accompanied by thunder so loud the entire house shook. Even I was starting to feel unsettled. My niece looked at me and said, "Maybe we should get some cucumbers." And my nephew said, "Or we can go out on the porch and sing songs. But they have to be in English. I don't know any in Serbian."

    I was dumbfounded. "How did you know about that?" I asked. They told me that my older sister had them read my post about stormy weather, cucumbers, and neuroplasticity. I fought back tears. I was deeply touched and humbled that my story had such a profound impact on my young niece and nephew. Instead of cowering under blankets, we talked, laughed and looked for cucumbers. Even after the power went out.

    Sometimes.... all you have to do.... is just tell a story.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Sugar Plum Tree

                                                         THE SUGAR PLUM TREE

    "Have you ever heard of the Sugar Plum Tree? 'Tis a marvel of great renown! It lies on the shore of the Lollipop Sea, in the harbor of Shut-Eye Town." This was my absolutely favorite nursery rhyme when I was a small child. I would beg my mother to read it to me over and over and over again. Of course, she did. She would hold up the book and show me the magnificent picture of my Sugar Plum Tree. Over and over and over again. My 2 older sisters would patiently listen to the story and dutifully look at the pictures. Over and over and over again.

     I  loved that story. And that tree was very real to me. One day, in my childhood wanderings around our yard, I found a seed from a sugar maple tree and decided to plant my own Sugar Plum Tree. Sugar maple tree, Sugar Plum Tree....it was a short leap from one to the other in the mind of a 4 year old. And, I was bored. My 2 older sisters were in school, and I had some extra time on my hands. So, I planted that little seed in our back yard. I announced what I did to the rest of the family that evening at dinner. They assured me that I would certainly have my own Sugar Plum Tree in due time. I kept a watchful eye on the exact spot for the next few days.

    Eventually, a small sapling appeared exactly where I had planted my seed. My efforts had paid off! There was great celebration in our house, because I finally had my very own Sugar Plum Tree! My father replanted the tree to the front of the house, where it would be easier for me to keep an eye on it. Every morning I would go outside and check on my tree. My Mom and Dad explained that the tree was too small and too young to bear fruit. It would take time. I understood that. I could be patient.

    Finally, the magic day came! One morning my mother and sisters woke me up, and told me that my Sugar Plum Tree had finally bloomed. I ran outside with them, and sure enough, every branch of my tree was covered with candy! It was a miracle, but one that I never doubted would happen, because I planted that seed and held on with child-like faith that my tree would grow.

    Of course, as I got older, I realized that my father had bought the sapling and planted it at the exact place where I had planted the seed. And, of course, it was my mother and sisters who trimmed the tree with candy for me. Was I disappointed to learn the truth? No. If anything else, it just renewed my conviction that miracles do happen, and you never know what will grow from one small seed.

    As a young adult, during one of my visits home, my mother asked me if I remembered "The Sugar Plum Tree". I opened my mouth and recited the entire poem word for word. My family just stared at me in shock. I was stunned.  I hadn't even thought of that poem for over 20 years, and yet I remembered every single word, never once faltering as I recited my beloved nursery rhyme. Once everyone had regained their composure, my mother finally said, "You mean, after all those times you made me read that to you, you actually had it memorized?"  I could see my 2 older sisters having similar thoughts; "After all those times we had to sit and listen to it...."

    Obviously, I didn't know I had that poem memorized until the I recited it at that exact moment. Had I consciously tried to remember it, the cognitive (thinking) part of my brain, and it's good buddy (my ego) would have gotten in my way. But, the part of my brain which stores emotional memories took care of my Sugar Plum Tree and allowed it to continue to grow and bear fruit through the years.

    A framed copy of the Sugar Plum Tree hangs in my office today. Every time I glance at it I am reminded that miracles do happen. All you have to do is plant a seed, have some faith, and watch what grows.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Feldenkrais Awareness Through Movement(R) in the Rocky Mountains

                                     I was honored to teach a workshop for the Gestalt Equine Institute of the Rockies during their recent intensive training segment. To teach Awareness Through Movement in an open mountain meadow with students sensing themselves in the sun or the shade, in the wildflowers or next to a lake was the ultimate somatosensory experience. Our support staff consisted of a gracious and dignified mountain dog, as you can see in some of the pictures. The mountains and the sound of the horses whinnying in the background completed this spectacular classroom with a view!

                                   To learn more about the Gestalt Institute of the Rockies and the wonderful work they do as well as their training programs, go to http://www.gestaltequineinstitute.com/ You won't be disappointed!

 

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP