The Feldenkrais Method(R) and the effortless movement of the skeleton....

    As a Feldenkrais Practitioner, one of my greatest challenges is trying to describe what the Method is, how it works, and what Feldenkrais can do to help you. At first, it seems quite complicated. In reality, it's actually very simple.

    In Feldenkrais, we focus on moving from our bones and our skeleton, rather than pushing from our muscles. Our skeletal structure supports us, our bones move us, and our nervous system is the computer which functions as the control center. Our muscles simply contract and relax as a result of the messages they receive from the very sophisticated, highly developed and extremely intelligent nervous system.

    I know, it's a different way of approaching movement, and it may be contrary to your current belief system about the science of movement. However, once you learn to move from the skeleton instead of pushing through your muscles, you experience how movement becomes easy, elegant and effortless.

    The truth is, when you move from your skeleton, magic happens!


Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

The Feldenkrais Method(R)....the science and the magic.

   I am passionate about Feldenkrais, and I love being a Feldenkrais Practitioner. My greatest reward is witnessing the magic of this method as it helps my clients improve the quality of their lives. However, my greatest challenge is trying to explain what Feldenkrais is, how it works, and why it is so effective.

    Feldenkrais is not magic; it's science, and is based on the scientific principle of neuroplasticity. Neuroplasticity means that we are able to change and learn new things during the course of our entire lifetime. I don't mean the kind of learning that we get from a book, or the kind of learning that we get from school. It's the kind of learning that takes place deep in our nervous system, and it is more of a visceral, organic type of learning that changes our neural pathways, strengthens our neural connections, and actually grows more nerve tissue in our brain.

    Feldenkrais uses the concept of neuroplasticity to access our nervous system in a very gentle but powerful way, through movement. Feldenkrais lessons gently interrupt current patterns and habits through movement explorations, thus allowing for new patterns to emerge. The learning and integration of new patterns are not limited to just movement, but include moving, sensing, thinking and feeling as well.

    What does this mean to you? Perhaps you have chronic back, neck or joint pain. You may have habitual patterns of moving, standing and sitting that may not only be exacerbating your pain, but actually may be causing it in the first place. The Feldenkrais Method(R) can help you discover new movement patterns through your own experience of the movement lessons.

    With Feldenkrais, you can eliminate aches and pains, improve your flexibility, posture, and balance. You can discover new ways of moving effortlessly and more efficiently. You will be able to improve your proficiency in all of your functional and recreational activities, regardless of your age and current level of function.

    It does sound like magic, doesn't it? It is, and it isn't. It is the science of neuroplasticity, and the magic of our nervous system to discover our inner wisdom and realize our full potential. I don't know about you, but it feels like magic to me. The magic of the Feldenkrais Method and the science of neuroplasticity.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Stop and smell the lilacs.

 
    It's late April. The birds are singing, the grass is green, the weather is beautiful. And I'm down in the dumps. Yesterday I took my bad mood outside to sit in the yard and listen to the birds. I realized it was a glorious day and I shouldn't miss out on it, in spite of my low spirits. At least the birds were in chipper mood. I settled back and closed my eyes. The breeze shifted and the smell of lilacs swept over me. The smell of spring and the feel of the warm sun quickly began to improve my mood. I started to smile as I drifted off and somehow made my way back to April two years ago.

    I was visiting my parents. The weather was absolutely beautiful, the trees were in full bloom, and the colors were glorious. With the change of season, and at my mother's request, I pulled out her summer outfits and put away her winter ones. She inventoried her wardrobe, looked at me and said, "I need new clothes." Then she spoke those magic words, "You have to go shopping for me."  And a choir of angels began to sing. What girl just doesn't love to go shopping? And not only did I GET to go shopping, I HAD to go shopping!

    There are some of us who love to shop. Then there are those of us who regard it as a sacred art, and have developed a level of skill and proficiency that make the average shopper look like bumbling amateurs. I consider myself in the latter category. My mother warned me that I would have a difficult time finding clothes that met her specific critera. More music to my ears. I love a challenge. I meticulously planned my strategy as I drove the familiar road to the mall and headed straight to Macy's.

    Two short hours later, I staggered to the check out with piles of clothes in my arms. All the sales clerk could see were my eyes, the top of my head and the tips of my fingers. Triumphantly, I plopped the merchandise on the counter, and told her, "These aren't for me. They're for my mother, and I'll be back tomorrow to return what she doesn't want." I took the huge bags home and had a great time playing show and tell with my mom. We organized the clothes into three piles as she tried them on. You know, the "yes" pile, the "no" pile, and the "maybe" pile. We took a break to admire our work, and then we put our heads together to plan my strategy for the following day.

    After another successful day at Macy's,  I brought the fruits of my labors home. More organizing, trying on, mixing, matching, and the piles of "yes", "no", and "maybe" grew larger. We were on a roll. Ahhhh, shopping! By this time my father was so impressed with my level of skill that he got in on the action and placed an order for himself. This was getting better and better. Just listen to those angels sing!

    I went back to the mall the next day, and the next day, and the next. By the fourth day all of the sales clerks knew my name and I knew theirs. I called them by name and waved to them as I worked my way through the store. I was surprised they didn't put me on the payroll. Some of the sales staff thought I actually was on the payroll. My Macy's card never saw so much action and it sizzled from the activity.

    By the time I left to go back to Denver, my mother had a well organized new wardrobe. My father had new shorts and shirts. I had a whole group of new friends at Macy's. I did my part to boost the local economy, a practice that my sisters and I would continue over the next several months, but that's another story.

      I came out of my reverie. I wasn't in my childhood home, I was in my own yard. I wasn't at the mall, I was in my lawn chair. But for some reason, I was in a much better mood. Sometimes, all you need to do, is stop, and smell the lilacs.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

The gift.... of three little words.

    I'll never forget the first time I looked into the eyes of a man I barely knew and heard three little words that helped change my life. It wasn't what I was expecting, especially from a man I had just met. We were brought together by a strange twist of fate. I remember standing close to him while he murmured those words in a soft, silky voice that nobody else could possibly hear. But I heard them. I still remember them. And it's not what you think.

    It was in the early days of my martial arts training. That means I was in the first  six months and still not sure what I was doing there and wondering how soon I would quit. But, I was learning a few things, so I kept going to class. Somehow, I was talked into attending a seminar. I was assured that it was great fun, low key, no pressure, and I would have a marvelous time. I was more gullible back then than I am now.

    During the seminar, I found myself paired up with a huge bull of a man. I am good spirited by nature and a natural born flirt, so I was okay with it. At first. Everything changed when I suddenly found myself in the middle of a huge circle surrounded by all of the other students, instructors, and Sensei walking straight toward us. I was the only woman there, I was the center of attention, and everyone was staring at me.

     I froze, like a deer in the headlights. I looked towards the back door to see if I could make a quick get away. Unfortunately, there was a wall of black belts blocking my path. They were lined up next to each other like the ninja version of Red Rover. "Red Rover, Red Rover, we dare Cheryl over!" I was fairly certain I couldn't break through that line. I glanced around for my teacher to bail me out. No help there. I had no way out. Honestly, I was just a heartbeat away from a serious and very public major melt down.

    Terrified, I looked up at my partner. Very softly and quietly he whispered those three magic words, "Don't be intimidated." Easy for him to say. He outweighed me by at least 150 pounds. And he was quite comfortable in this testosterone infested environment.  The circle was closing in tighter and I looked at the back door again. Maybe I could break that line. My partner shook his head slightly and said it again, "Don't be intimidated." All of a sudden, the circle that was closing around me opened up. I got out of my immobilized state and found the courage to start moving again.

    That was eight years ago. The rest, as they say, is history. That man gave me a gift beyond anything he could have imagined, and the support I needed without embarrassing me. It was our little secret.  I can't help but wonder what the outcome would have been if he hadn't been so supportive. Maybe that would have been the end of my martial arts training.

    A few years later I ran into him again at another seminar. He looked at me in surprise and said, "You're still here!" Then he looked down at my belt and burst out laughing. "And you outrank me now!" Later that day we were paired up again. In that same soft voice, he taunted me this time. "Look at you, girl, you're not scared any more. Look at how strong you are." Of course, strong is a relative term. I can't over power a cat. But I have developed a strength of spirit and courage that I never knew I had before, thanks to my training.

    Words can have a powerful effect. It's important to choose your words carefully. Speak softly, honestly and gently. You may be giving someone a powerful gift that keeps on giving. After all, you never know when you may be in need of some encouragement. Recycle the gift.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov. PT, GCFP

Reddy Kilowatt meets Mr. Sparky

    When I was a little girl, I did what a lot of kids do out of interest and curiosity when the opportunity arises. I took a hairpin and stuck it in an electrical outlet. I wasn't a fast learner in a lot of life's experiences, mostly because of my incomparable stubbornness. I figured if something didn't go my way the first time I tried it, I'd do it again until I got the outcome I wanted.

    However, the shock I got was a pretty immediate and lasting learning experience. I never did that again. I also learned that the cute and sparky little fellow that represented our power company had a mean streak. And one heck of a bite. For years, we all remembered the day that Reddy Kilowatt bit me.
       
    Here it is, over fifty years later, and I am having electrical issues again. We have known for a long time that our wiring was outdated and not up to code. We had an electrician tell us several years ago that we needed to rewire the entire house. Okay, we knew we would get around to it, someday. But we didn't worry about it too much, until the day I watched as flames shot out of a neighbor's fuse box. So, the electrician had a point.

    Enter, Mr. Sparky. No, I'm not kidding. That's the name of the company that we hired. Actually, I hired them to do two small jobs. That changed when he opened our fuse box. The two small jobs evolved into a major (and expensive) project. He showed us what the problem was, and where we had already had two burns. Again, visions of flames shooting out of the neighbor's fuse box and the power of Reddy Kilowatt flashed in my mind. It was time to git 'er done.

    It took three visits and a team of electricians to get the work done. At least I had an idea of why it cost so much. On the second day, they started changing the old outlets and pig tailing the wires. Whatever that means. One of the electricians saved an outlet to show us what it looked like. She told us, "This was a bad one." The top half of the top outlet was black and the plastic had melted away. It looked like Reddy Kilowatt was messing with me again.

    Anyway, Mr. Sparky took charge of my childhood nemesis.  He got control of that zippy little rascal, reigned him in and got him hog tied. Or pigtailed. You get the idea. The important thing is that the work is finally completed, and my home is safe. It was an expensive home improvement project that no one can see, and only we can appreciate. But it beats flames shooting out of your fuse box. And at least all of the new wall plates look pretty.

    Funny, I was writing this post while Mr. Sparky was putting the final touches on the new wiring. I had finished the story and noticed that I was having a problem saving it. It seems Mr. Sparky had cut off the power to my computer and I lost the entire post. I think Reddy Kilowatt was the culprit, just letting me know that he still has some power over me.

    I saved the burned outlet. I might have it made into a necklace. Or maybe I can use it for the grown up version of show and tell. I will keep it as a reminder to enjoy a major home improvement project that no one can see. And as a gentle reminder to listen the next time some one tells me I have a problem with my wiring. I'll apply the life's lesson that I learned as a child. Which is that just because Reddy Kilowatt is cute, he still needs to be respected.
     
        At this point I have to put a plug in for Mr. Sparky, so to speak. They do a great job. So, if you are in the Denver area and looking to have some work done, keep them in mind. Their team of electricians are very professional, respectful, friendly, always on time and clean up after themselves. Even better, one of the electricians was a girl. That in itself made Reddy Kilowatt shake in his hot little yellow boots. What more could I ask for?

     So, that's the story of the day that Reddy Kilowatt met Mr. Sparky. It looks like my old nemesis had met his match. It wasn't exactly a match made in heaven, but at least sparks aren't flying.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

A very funny Easter Bunny.....

    Growing up in Western Pennsylvania was pretty special. All of the holidays were celebrated with great enthusiasm. It didn't matter if it was a national holiday, state holiday, school holiday, personal holiday, birthday, or religious holiday. We celebrated them all.

    Being of Eastern European descent, our family celebrated Easter with the ethnic and cultural traditions of our religion and our heritage. However, we also got to experience the other part of the Easter holiday, the Easter Bunny. And we enjoyed the decadence of all the chocolate Easter bunnies, chocolate eggs, jelly beans and marshmallow peeps.

    Of course, the Easter Bunny is famous for leaving baskets for each child at every house he visits. But, he never left baskets for me and my sisters. We must have been last on his "to do" list, and by the time he got to our house at the end of the street and at the top of the hill,  things began to go awry.

    Every year he developed a small hole in the bottom of his bag, probably from dragging it around all night as he went from house to house. As a result, he left a small trail of jelly beans on the walk leading up to the door of our house. The trail became bigger the closer he got to our front door. By the time he used his magic key to unlock the door to our house, jelly beans and brightly colored chocolate eggs began to litter the floor.

    At that point he must have given up. Since candy was already falling out of his bag, he must have decided to go with the flow. So he did. And he made an incredible mess. He threw candy all over the dining room and living room floor. At least he neatly lined up the packages of colored peeps, large chocolate bunnies and big eggs on the fireplace. Maybe he stole that idea from Santa Claus.

    Every Easter morning, we woke up to that beautiful, colorful mess. My sisters and I crawled around, gathered up the candy, and put it in the bowls and baskets that our mother pulled out of the cabinets. Yes, indeed, once a year we ate candy right off of the floor! Good thing our mother was a meticulous housekeeper. And, we rarely used the living room and dining room anyway. It was only for company.

    Every year, our mother would  complain about that darned Easter Bunny for messing up her house. And, every year she would plot how to stop him from doing the same thing the following year. We always hoped the Easter Bunny didn't hear her. That rascally rabbit was one funny bunny. It would sure be a bummer if we started getting boring baskets like the other kids. Where's the sport in that?

    Fortunately, our Mom never did stop him in his tracks. And every Easter Sunday we were treated with the sight of all that candy thrown all over the floor. Although, it wasn't as much fun picking up candy off of the floor as I got older, especially since my two older sisters and I got to help our Easter Bunny throw the candy around for our younger sisters when it was their turn to enjoy the magic. But, it was still okay to eat candy right off of the floor.

   The truth is, I still believe in the Easter Bunny. And Santa Claus. I believe in the magic of childhood, and I believe in the power of healing and comfort that sweet memories provide. I believe in the mystery and the reality of things that cannot be explained, but that we know in our hearts exist. And, I learned a few important things along the way. It's important to keep your floors clean. You never know when something sweet might land on them. Second, don't put all your eggs in one basket. You may want to throw them around a bit, and share them with others. At least, that's what our Easter Bunny would recommend.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Brown bag, lunch time, and April Fool's.

    When I was growing up, I never ate lunch in the school cafeteria. The first time I did eat in a school cafeteria was on my first day of college. It was pretty awful, and I had an even greater appreciation for the brown bag lunches that my Mom packed for me and my sisters every single morning.

    In elementary school we walked home for lunch every day. But once we entered junior high, my sisters and I brought our lunch from home. Our mother would pack a sandwich, piece of fruit and a cookie and put them in the classic brown bag. Sometimes she would put a hard boiled egg, left-over chicken, or anything else that was handy. Lunch was always predictable and reliable.

    However, one day each year, our mother took a few liberties with our lunches. She had a great sense of humor, and loved a good joke. Every April Fool's Day, the joke was on us. And in our lunch bags. Peanut butter sandwiches were laced with rubber bands. Two pieces of bread would hold a hand written note that said "April Fool!" On one occasion the note read, "This is not a piece of jumbo." (Western Pennsylvania slang for bologna). One time the sandwich was a picture of a slice of jumbo. If there was an egg, we weren't sure if it was hard boiled or raw, until we cracked the shell.

    She did it every year. Every year we knew she would do it, although a few times we did forget about her favorite holiday. At least, until we opened our lunch bags. Oh, yes, it's April Fool's Day. I can imagine her at home, watching the clock so she knew which child was in lunch period, opening her special brown bag. As much as she loved her little joke, she would never let us go hungry. She always had an extra lunch for us sent with one of our friends. So, by the time we were in high school, our friends knew about Mom's joke, and eagerly anticipated April Fool's Day to see what she came up with this time.

    So, on this April Fool's Day, I celebrate my mother and her sense of humor. I raise a slice of bread slathered with peanut butter and laced with rubber bands to my mother's memory. And to further honor her, I share with you the lessons I learned from her and those lunches. First of all, it's important to have a sense of humor. It's good for your health. It's important to laugh often, and laugh hard. A good belly laugh is good for your spirit and has the added benefit of working your abs without doing crunches. It's important to go along with a joke, even if you already know it's coming, and you are on the receiving end. It's even better to share the joke with friends. It teaches you not to take yourself too seriously.

    One last thing....always have a back up plan, just in case your brown bag is full of rubber bands, raw eggs and April Fool's. It's good to be prepared for the unexpected.


Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Back to the basic$ of financial neuroplasticity.

    After several months of implementing the principles of Feldenkrais to help us move more easily through our financial environment, we were ready to enjoy the fruits of our effortless saving. It was time for a few home improvement projects.

    We carefully planned a few things, including our projected budget for each project.  First on the list was updating the master bathroom. What girl doesn't just love the idea of a new bathroom? Since the plumber was coming and the dogs were safely tucked away at Little Doggie Day Care, we arranged for a window cleaner to come the same day. To round off the day, we had the electrician come to give us an estimate on two small jobs. What fun!

    I was having a great time until we received a shock. A really big shock. You may even say an electrical shock. It appeared that our fuse box had to be replaced and the entire house rewired. Yikes! Our electrician meticulously explained the problem to us and showed us where we had already had something called a burn. I didn't understand what that meant, but I knew it didn't sound good. What I did understand was that my new bathroom just went down the toilet. But at least my house would be safe, from an electrical stand point. And my windows were clean. What more could I ask for?

    The cost of the work left me speechless. Which has not happened more than a few times in my life. But I recovered from the shock (so to speak) and was ready to move forward. You would think that such a huge expense would break the bank. The truth is, it did take a hit. But, thanks to our new sense of financial neuroplasticity and our new habits of saving and spending, I could figure out how to recover. I went back to the drawing board. Time to make a few adjustments. I looked back at the budget I had written up last summer. I made a few changes, still allowing for the most important things like food, gas, wine and hair color.

    The good news is that our electrician told us that if we had been considering replacing any light fixtures, now was the time. Since they had to pull all of the fixtures anyway, they would replace any upgrades free of charge. Keep in mind "free" is a relative term considering the cost of the entire project. Hmmm....time to go shopping, at least if it fits in the budget. I may not be getting my bathroom as of yet, but I'll get a new light fixture and I already have a clean window. At least I'll see my bathroom in a whole new light, so to speak. That's a start.

    When one of my sisters commiserated with me, she assured me how pleased I would be that the work was done. But, unfortunately, for all that money, I wouldn't even have anything nice to look at. Oh, contra ire, I told her. Once all the work was completed, I was going to go through the entire house, turn on every light, go outside and admire the show through my sparkling clean windows.

    So, just in case you see a strange light from the Rocky Mountains, no worries, it's just me enjoying my home improvements. And, don't worry, it will be a brief light show that doesn't last long. After all, I am on a budget!

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

I can see clearly now....

    Spring cleaning started a little bit early this year. Well, I have to be honest. This is only the second consecutive year that I have subscribed to the idea of spring cleaning. But that's another story.

    Anyway, one of the first items on my agenda were my windows. I have cleaned them before, of course. Or at least, I've tried. Many times. But instead of getting them clean, all I've ever managed to do was to rearrange the dirt and grime. But I kept trying.

    Taking the windows apart to clean them was difficult enough. Putting them back together was a nightmare. And yet I kept trying, doing the same thing over and over with the same grime streaked results. Finally, I gave up. If my windows were gong to be dirty, at least I had the satisfaction of doing nothing about it. But then the glorious morning sun would come beaming through my windows, clouding my view and mocking me at my failure to get them clean. I thought about getting professional help.

    I once mentioned in front of my father that I needed to hire a professional window washer. He was horrified. He said "You're kidding me! Can't you clean them yourself?" Apparently I can't, which is why I was considering having a professional clean them for me.

     But he did get me thinking. Why couldn't I clean them myself? Maybe I wasn't trying hard enough. Maybe I was doing something wrong. Maybe there was something wrong with me. My windows were representing a part of my belief system and my self image that I am not a very good housekeeper. It sounds silly, but it really bothered me. So, I quadrupled my efforts and tried again. And still I failed.

    I finally hired a professional window washer two weeks ago. And he did a wonderful job! My windows are clean, crystal clear, with not even a streak left behind. The morning sun coming through my windows is beautiful, giving me a clear, uninterrupted view. So much light is coming through, I can see the corners of the house that need to be cleaned. And I am attending to them with a new sense of enthusiasm and awareness.

    Life's a lot like those windows. Sometimes we get layers of muck that we simply can't clear away on our own. Sometimes we can't see clearly through the layers of dirt that we have accumulated through the years. We get stuck in patterns and we can't find our way out. It may have a negative impact on our self image, even if it seems trivial to someone else. And it takes away our ability to really enjoy the most simple things in life. Sometimes we all need a little professional help to improve our awareness and see through our problems more clearly. All we have to do is remove the judgment, stop worrying about what other people may think of us, and open ourselves up to new possibilities.


Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Mid-March Resolutions.

    I drove past the local health club a few days ago and noticed their sign boldly advertising, "Resolutions? Join today!" That was strange, considering it is already mid-March. Maybe it was a mistake. A few days later, I noticed the sign had changed. It now proclaimed, "A New You in 2012!" Okay, so maybe it wasn't a mistake.

    But, it's the middle of March. It's St. Patrick's Day. The New Year's resolutions have long been forgotten. The weather is getting warmer, the days are getting longer, and people are coming out of their winter hibernation with the promise of spring. Everyone is dusting off their bicycles, pulling out their golf clubs, signing up for runs, pouring into the local parks, and dreaming about picnics and cookouts. Why in the world would anyone chose joining a stuffy old gym over the seduction of a beautiful spring day and outdoor activities? It seemed like an odd marketing and advertising strategy to me.

    Then I started thinking about it. Why do we set our New Year's resolutions on January 1st, anyway? Is it just because it's the beginning of a new calendar year? Or maybe it's because some of us are feeling  guilty about over indulging during the holidays. So, we set lofty goals that sound pretty good during the mad rush of the holidays, only to face the harsh reality of squeezing into spandex, braving the cold harsh weather and short dark days to get to the gym. As an extra bonus, we will be surrounded by those folks who kept their New Year's resolutions from the previous year. Yikes!

    It's a recipe for disaster, and almost a set up for failure. No wonder why we throw in the towel after a few weeks. But, I have another idea. Wouldn't it make more sense to hunker down, snuggle in, and slowly recover from the holidays and enjoy the long winter nights? Rather than setting unrealistic goals for ourselves, maybe we could take some time to nurture ourselves, and carefully plan moderate changes over the next three months. We can begin to implement these changes at a reasonable pace. Then, when spring arrives and the days start getting longer and warmer, we can address our resolutions with a renewed energy and enthusiasm. And, increase our chances of success.

    So much for my skepticism about the wisdom of the health club and their marketing strategy. This health club may be on to something. They certainly got my attention. The problem is, St. Patrick's Day Resolutions doesn't have the zip that New Year's Resolutions does. March Madness is already taken. April Fool's hardly seems appropriate. The truth is, it doesn't matter when you begin, as long as you start moving in the right direction. Remember, if it's physical, it's therapy!


Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Live and learn....

    What a wonderful weekend I'm having! It started last night with a fantastic instructor training class at Kusa Dojo. Okay, so it was a bit difficult to get to the dojo on a gloriously beautiful spring evening, especially being Friday evening and everything. To make matters worse, I had to maneuver around all the revelers getting an early start on their St. Patrick's Day celebrations at the local pub. But it certainly was worth the effort. It's amazing how much you can learn about how you move when you really slow things down, listen to the quality of your movement, and go back to the basics. Oh, and it also helps to have two highly skilled teachers coaching you.

    I was able to find where I was making my mistakes and now have the opportunity to work on them, on my own, without judgment, but in the spirit of interest and curiosity. When I practice on my own, I can slow down my movement patterns even more so I can interrupt the habits I have developed that are holding me back. In the context of learning, slowing down and doing less helps you feel more. I could feel new synaptic connections developing in my head. You'd think I'd be exhausted after that, but I was strangely energized as I picked my way around the party goers from the pub after class. Hmmm....this sounds really familiar, like something else I know.

    I didn't think my weekend could get any better after last night. Until this morning, when I taught a two hour Feldenkrais workshop at my office. Watching my students discover new movement patterns as they moved slowly through the lessons was fascinating. And extremely rewarding. Listening to their experiences of the movement lessons was incredibly enlightening as I felt more synaptic connections making contact in myself. And I could once again appreciate the close relationship between  martial arts and The Feldenkrais Method. What fun!

    So, it begs the question, both from the perspective as a student and as a teacher....am I teaching to learn or learning to teach? I think they go hand in hand, and are reversible, just like one of the principles of learning in the Feldenkrais way. Recently I was explaining the principles of Feldenkrais to a friend of mine. I explained how it was based on the science of neuroplasticity, that we are always able to learn new things during our entire lifetime. She responded by saying she was too old to learn new things, and she meant it. I felt sorry for her, because that is part of her belief system and her self image. Not only is that sad, but just think of all the fun she's missing out on!

    Anyway, it's been a great weekend, full of wonderful experiences and discovery! And just think....it's only Saturday afternoon. Who knows what the rest of the weekend has in store!

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Ballet Master

The house lights grow dim, it's opening night!
The audience quiets. Enter, stage right.

A spotlight appears, a bright, shining light.
And follows the movement of one special life.

Of a Ballet Master, mentor and friend.
Artist, dancer, elite gentleman.
                                                                          
His ageless elegance, style and grace.
A quiet reflection of a more gracious place.                                                      

Firm and determined, and true to his art.
He follows this truth with a compassionate heart.

These are the rules, there are no exceptions.
There are no excuses in this quest for perfection.                                                             

His students adore him, with respect, love and fear.
And they keep learning with each passing year.

Of all of his students who have gone before,
The last of his students could not love him more.

We continue to work each tendue, releve.
As we remember his clean precise way.
.                                                              
The curtains now close, we walk into the night.
Our lives so much richer. Exit, stage right.



For Mr. Boyette, from a loving and grateful heart.
Cheryl Ilov, March 2005

Sunshine, solitude and AAA.

    Don't you just hate when things don't go as planned?

    Last week my car wouldn't start, leaving me stranded after ballet class on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. By the time I got in my car and realized it wouldn't start, the last dancer had already driven away. I was alone, and I was stuck. I called my husband on his cell phone. No answer. I tried the home phone. I got the answering machine. Frustrated, I tried starting the car again. Nothing. Oh, well, at least the radio worked.

    I listened to some music and noticed how blue and clear the sky was, and how nice that I was stranded right next to a park. I could see the high mountain peaks covered with snow, and I marveled at the contrast of the sunlight, blue sky, and blinding white snow capped mountains. Finally, I realized I was in a rare state of inactivity, so I came out of my reverie and called AAA. Well, at least someone was answering their phone. They told me a truck would come to my aid in less than one hour. Help was on the way, eventually.

    I was alone, I couldn't go anywhere, and I was stuck. Or was I? Once again, I noticed how beautiful the sky was. I listened to more music, and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on a cold, crisp day. I had a full half hour of sweet, uninterrupted solitude. I was  alone with my thoughts, my music, and a bright blue sky. I spent the time nurturing myself in quiet meditation, and hitting the refresh button on my personal computer, my nervous system. All of a sudden, I saw the world through new eyes. I was almost disappointed when AAA showed up.

    Don't you just love it when things don't go as planned?

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

The reluctant Ninja.

    Here I am, hard at work transcribing, editing and compiling eight years of notes from three different notebooks, several different legal pads, and a multitude of sticky notes gathered over countless hours of martial arts training, classes and seminars. This daunting project is in anticipation of  testing for my next belt level. Some day. This next level is a comprehensive test which includes everything I have learned (or supposed to have learned) since the first day I entered the dojo and began training. Reluctantly, of course. You may recall that I was going to take a few classes, learn a few things, and then quit. I thought it was a form of recreation.

    Then I discovered how serious these people were about their training. I mean, they had notebooks, for Heaven's sake! "What were those for?" I wondered. Then I found out. I was given a few sheets of paper which listed the techniques I had to learn to test for my first level, my yellow belt. I giggled. I wasn't ever going to test, I was probably going to quit soon, so why did I need that list? In spite of myself, I put the papers in a thin binder so as not to look out of place, or to appear disrespectful.

    Then I took my first seminar. My teacher brought his Sensei out from LA to help us train. My teacher talked me into attending, telling me that it was a lot of fun and Sensei was just a great big teddy bear. So, I did. The first day the big teddy bear screamed and yelled. About everything. All day. Just when I thought he had surely run out of things to yell about, he bellowed and lectured us for not taking notes. All of the upper belts whipped out their notebooks and began frantically writing. I sighed to myself, pulled out a piece of paper, picked up a pen, and stared down at the sheet of paper. My mind was as blank and empty as the paper. I had no idea what I was supposed to take notes on. I tried to sneak a peek at the paper of the brown belt sitting next to me, but as far as I was concerned, he may have been writing in Japanese. Then I realized he was.

    I noticed Sensei scowling and looking in my direction. Nervously, I began to write. After all, I didn't want to be the only one staring off into space, especially after that lecture, so I wrote some notes. Bread, eggs, milk. I figured no one would notice that I started my grocery list because my handwriting is so bad no one could possibly read it. I hopefully looked up from my list. Everyone was still writing. I sighed again and started planning my menu for the following week. Since I was already working on my grocery list it was a natural segue. Finally, the note taking period was over and we started practicing our techniques again. Still, every now and then, one of the guys would step away, pick up his notebook, and jot down a few notes. Not wanting to be out done, I walked over to my notebook and wrote down a few other items that I needed from the grocery store.

    That was eight years ago. I now have several different well organized notebooks including my original manual, my current manual, my instructor's manual, and my testing manual to name just a few. It's funny how things change. The last time Sensei came into town for a seminar, I was frantically writing notes when one of the newer students hunkered down next to me. She wanted to know what I was writing. She told me she didn't have a clue what to write. She chatted a bit more until I finally told her to write her grocery list. She stared at me for a moment and said,  "You're kidding!" I looked across the room and noticed Sensei scowling at me. I smiled back at him, turned to my fellow student and replied, "You've got to start somewhere!"

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Valentine's Day....hearts, flowers and toilets.

    It's funny to see how people respond to Valentine's Day. Love it or hate it, it shows up each year. And it's here to stay. Yesterday one of my single friends asked me if my husband had planned anything special for me this year. Why, yes, as a matter of fact, he did.

    I had the day off, so I was going to go to ballet class in the morning, and after I came home we were going shopping for a new bathroom. For some reason my friend thought this was hilarious and couldn't stop laughing. Finally she said, "How romantic! Shopping for a new bathroom on Valentine's Day!"

    I thought about it for a few minutes and realized that nothing says I love you like looking at toilets. It's less fattening than chocolate. And lasts longer than flowers. Happy Valentine's Day!

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Reflections and confessions of a techno-moron.

      Don't you love to laugh? I certainly do. I especially love to laugh at myself, and at some of my patterns of reluctance in trying new things. Just as I had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the world of martial arts, it was the same story with technology.  

     The truth is that just a year ago all I could do on a computer was check my email. I didn't even know what a blog was, let alone imagine myself having one. I had no idea what Facebook was or why anyone would ever want to be on it. I spent two years traveling a lot, and in the airports I noticed how many people had their computers with them. I wondered why anyone would possibly want or need their computer. And almost everyone was actually using them. I would glance curiously at the people busily tapping away at their keyboards. Funny, I noticed many of them watching me as I worked my magic with my knitting needles. They were probably wondering how I managed to get them through security. Just as I wondered how all those computers got through.

     My cell phone was a mystery to me. It's a hand me down, so it is not exactly state of the art technology. But it was still above my level of understanding. I finally learned how to text two years ago because my youngest sister made me. I discovered that my phone had a "memory" and I could program frequently used numbers into an address book. Who knew? I found that nifty little tool while I was babysitting my niece and nephew. I took them to their baseball game, and entertained myself during lulls in the game by toying with my phone. After all, I ran out of conversation with the young Moms pretty quickly, and I noticed they all kept looking at their phones for some reason. Not wanting to look out of place (and cursing myself for not bringing my knitting), I kept glancing at my phone, too. Then I noticed they kept playing with the keys. Not wanting to be out done, I started playing with mine. Viola! I now had an address book full of names and numbers, even though it took a few days to learn how to retrieve them.

    A year ago my marketing advisor set up a blog for me. I didn't even know what a blog was, but I knew I didn't want one. Notice how I made that call before I even discovered what a blog was. Fortunately my youngest sister explained it to me. She sure is smart. Then I found out my friend also set up a Facebook account for me. No, no....don't do that. I didn't even know what that meant, but I certainly didn't want any part of it. This time all of my sisters tried to explain it to me. They sure are smart. I still didn't get it, but I tried to look intelligent as I listened to them, even though I didn't understand a word they said. Good thing I have so many sisters. I figured with enough repetition I would eventually get it. In the meantime, my inbox quickly filled up with friend requests. Uh-oh, now what do I do? I mean, if someone sends me an invitation, the polite thing to do is to reply to it, isn't it? The problem is, I didn't know how.

    The point is, no matter how many times people tried to explain this world of technology to me, I just didn't get it until I finally started playing with it on my own, with a sense of interest and curiosity. I discovered a lot more on my own than I ever could with someone else instructing me every step of the way. Did I make mistakes? Of course I did. But I sure did learn a lot. And once I let go of my belief system that I couldn't possibly understand technology, my mind opened up to new learning experiences. Huh, sounds a lot like the Feldenkrais Method(R) and neuroplasticity, doesn't it?

    So, here I am, sitting at my computer with my cell phone next to me. I'm shooting texts back and forth between sentences. Every now and again I give myself a break and see what my Facebook friends are up to, even though I have a few files to download and I could be working on an important document.  And I laugh at myself as I wonder what's next around the corner. Perhaps one of those new fangled phones that actually take pictures, videos and can access my email. Maybe I'll even learn how to copy and paste, a phrase I used to think was a cute reference to my kindergarten days. Oh, no, that was cut and paste, wasn't it?


Be healthy, and stay curious!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Surrounded by brilliance....and neuroplasticity.

    Don't you just love it when the gifts keep coming? Just as I am still marveling at my Sensei's brilliance two weeks ago in martial arts,  I got another blast of brilliance from my ballet mistress.

    Dancers are visual as well as kinestetic in our learning experiences. We use our eyes as well as our bodies to learn choreography in our technique classes. We look in the mirror to check our placement as well as our movement patterns. However, sometimes we depend on the use of our eyes and the mirrors too much. For example, if we know we can look in the mirror and follow the other dancers, there is less pressure to learn the combinations. We can become complacent, and fall into the habit of watching each other instead of paying attention to the choreography.

    Last week our teacher gave us a specific constraint. She had us turn away from the mirror and dance facing the wall. The results were disastrous! Half of us couldn't remember the combination, and the other half were running into each other in a bizarre rendition of ballerina bumper cars. It was extremely confusing, but pretty funny. And incredibly revealing. It seems that some of us depend on our vision (and each other) a little too much.

    The dancers who had embraced the choreography as an authentic, internal expression of themselves regained their composure relatively quickly. The others never recovered. Some of them actually stopped and simply stood there, adding to the confusion. It became obvious which dancers were trying to do what they thought they should do, rather than feeling what they could do.

     As dancers we often talk about flexibility. Sometimes we become consumed with the idea of having a flexible body. Perhaps instead of being preoccupied with having a flexible body, we can instead focus on developing a flexible mind. If we did that, who knows to what heights we can climb?

    When our teacher had us turn away from the mirror she challenged our nervous systems to quickly adapt to the change. And we all discovered a little bit more about ourselves. Sometimes all we have to do to is turn away from the mirror to see ourselves more clearly. And sometimes, out of confusion comes clarity, flexibility, strength and grace. Not always....but it is an intriguing concept, isn't it? And well worth exploring.

    Oh, and one last thought. Don't you think I am incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such brilliant teachers? Or maybe their brilliance has been there all along, but now I have the awareness and flexibilty to appreciate it. Hmmm....it's just another idea to consider.

Be healthy, and flexible!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Gymnastics with numbers....and thanking a teacher.

    I love math. It's so simple and so logical. I also have passion for movement.  Math is movement. It's gymnastics with numbers. Isn't that a fun way to look at it?

    I didn't always feel this way. When I was young, I didn't do very well in math. I used to feel incredibly stupid, clumsy and frustrated. Everyone else seemed to understand and catch on so easily, where I always struggled. It did not help that I was told I had no aptitude for math, or even worse, that I just didn't apply myself or work hard enough. Ouch.

    I remember being in Algebra class when I was in high school. I was trying to follow along with the new material my teacher was presenting, but I was lost. Utterly, completely and hopelessly lost. Finally, I raised my hand and said, "I'm confused." The straight A student sitting next to me rolled her eyes and said in a bored, sarcastic voice, "Well, that's not very hard to do!" I was stunned. The entire class looked at me as my face burned with the knowledge that yes, I am stupid. I have no aptitude for math. I don't apply myself. I don't work hard enough. Give up.

       My teacher slowly turned away from the blackboard. He said nothing....he just looked at my classmate for a few moments. Her face turned red and she started to squirm. I don't think she intended for the entire class to hear her. My teacher looked at me and asked, "Where are you confused?" He then patiently explained the equations to me. Suddenly other hands shot up in the air. Hmmm....it appears that I wasn't the only one who was confused. But I was the only one who had the courage to admit it.

    Many years later, I decided to go back to school and earn my Master's Degree in physical therapy. But then I found out I would have to take several math courses including Statistics, College Algebra, and Trigonometry. The old internal monologue and self talk came back loud and clear. I'm not smart enough. I have no aptitude for math. I don't apply myself. I don't work hard enough. Give up. The truth is, I almost quit before I even started.

    But then something incredible happened. Somewhere deep in my memory, I saw a young teacher turn away from the chalkboard, give my classmate a blank look, and take the time to explain the material that I didn't understand. That memory helped change my belief system that I had no aptitude for math. I knew I could at least try. There is no doubt that I would work hard and apply myself. I could start with lower level classes, join a study group, and even hire a tutor if necessary.

    You know what? I never did join a study group or hire a tutor. After the first two weeks of high anxiety and introductory Algebra, I made an amazing discovery. It wasn't difficult....it was interesting and kind of fun. I was good at it. And I loved it! I was at the top of every class I took, all the way up to Calculus.

   Isn't it fascinating that such a small gesture could change my belief system and self image? How could I go from being completely inept in a subject to a high achiever without even struggling? Because, in just an instant, my teacher turned what was a hostile, high stress environment into one that was safe, supportive and conducive to learning, without judgment. The intelligence of my nervous system and my own inner wisdom was able to take over and do the rest. This teacher gave me a way to find my confidence, dignity and self respect.

    Honestly, is it ever too late to thank a teacher? I don't think so, do you?

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Habits, constraints, and neuroplasticity....let the learning begin!

    In my martial arts class, we often practice something called "randori". One student stands in the center of the room while the other students form a circle around them and take turns randomly attacking the person in the middle. It's kind of like the Ninja version of monkey in the middle. And it scares me to death. It is my least favorite training activity, but my incomparable stubborness won't let me opt out. And besides, the guys would make fun of me if I refused to play with them.

    Last week, after we completed our randori, just as I heaved a sigh of relief, Sensei said, "We're going again." He looked at me and said, "And you are not allowed to do the same techniques. I want you to find new ways to react to each attack." My response to that constraint was not very mature or Ninja-like. I threw a hissy fit.  Apparently my little temper tantrum didn't phase him. Either he is immune to them or I need to work on my hissy fit skills. Anyway, he wouldn't budge. Sheesh, I thought I was stubborn!

    Before we began, he had me stop, breathe and relax. Not an easy task when you are surrounded by men waiting to attack you. Against my better judgment, I listened to him. Then I took my place in the middle of the circle and let the games begin. The attacks started coming. And something very interesting happened. I felt new movement patterns come forth without even trying. My reactions were more thoughtful, meticulous and less effort. I discovered that I had a lot more techniques under my belt (so to speak) than I knew I had. I was calmer, my breathing was easier, my chest felt softer, my movements were more fluid. I felt myself responding in a visceral, organic way. 

    By giving me that one small constraint,  my Sensei gave me the opportunity to interrupt my habits,  explore new movement patterns, and discover new sensory patterns.  He did this in an environment that was safe, supportive and non-judgmental. What ever I did, it was not right or wrong, good or bad, just opportunities to learn. Hmmm....this sounds familiar. Why does this sound like  Feldenkrais? Because it is. The Feldenkrais Method(R) gives us the opportunity to learn new patterns of moving, sensing, thinking and feeling in an environment that is safe, supportive and nonjudgmental. Interesting, isn't it?

     What Sensei did that day was absolutely brilliant! But let's keep that to ourselves, shall we? We won't tell him I said that. After all, if I encourage him, who knows what devious new methods he will use to help me learn and grow. Hmmm....on second thought, maybe I will tell him!

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

If a tree falls in the forest.....

      Several weeks ago a powerful storm swept through Rocky Mountain National Park. Two weeks later, we went hiking in the area, and we came across a devastating scene of absolute chaos and destruction. Hundreds of huge pine trees littered the ground, crisscrossing over each other, their broken limbs strewn everywhere. Most of the trees were literally ripped from the ground by their roots. Some trees that may have survived the storm that swept through the forest were split in two by the crashing force of the other trees that succumbed to the gale force wind.

   What once was a beautiful forest of tall, majestic trees was now an eerie field of debris and destruction. Along with the broken branches, uprooted trees, exposed roots and huge craters in the ground, I saw several deadly nature made wooden missiles scattered everywhere. Their tips had points so perfectly sharpened it appeared as though they had been carefully whittled by a master wood carver. I cringed to think of the damage one of these weapons might have caused as it came flying through the air during the melee of the storm.
 
    I have heard that pine trees have shallow roots. Simply because a tree appears to be big and strong, tall and mighty, it does not mean that it can withstand the power of a storm if it's roots are shallow. The truth is, we are a lot like those trees. It doesn't matter how big, strong and tall we are; if we don't have the flexibility to bend under the onslaught of life's storms, we will break. If our roots are shallow, we will be taken out. If we don't have the resources to help support our neighbor when they come crashing down, or are unable to get out of their way, they will take us down with them.

    The good news is that we have the capacity to change through the plasticity of our nervous system. Flexible strength is far more healthy and functional than rigid strength. It is important to learn how to be flexible so we can spring back when the storms hit. It's important to develop strong roots so we cannot be uprooted. It's important to get out of the way and deflect the blow if somebody next to us is crashing down. Maneuvering through the forest of life is not about being big, tall, and strong. It is about having the resilience, spirit, resources and ability to spring back, recover, grow and flourish.

    So,if a tree does fall in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound? I'm pretty certain that the symphony of destruction that roared through the forest the day that the trees fell was unparalleled to anything I have heard in my lifetime. But, I guess we'll never know.

Be healthy, strong and flexible!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP