The Feldenkrais Method(R) and the power of "no"....

    I learned a lot during the four years of my Feldenkrais Training. However, the most valuable thing I learned was from one of my favorite teachers when he veered off course during a group discussion. He did that a lot. He told us a story about an incident that happened when he was a guest teacher at another training program. I love stories, so I settled on my mat in that semi comatose Felden-fog that I would get during training segments.

    He told us that after the first few days of teaching he was aware of some grumbling and the undercurrents of a rebellion brewing. He gathered the class together for a 'family talk" and to give everyone a change to express their concerns. He went around the circle and listened to their complaints, most of them which were directed at him personally. 

    My teacher, the ultimate professional, patiently listened as the complaints against him grew exponentially as they went around the circle. It was as if each student was trying to out do the previous one, and the list of infractions took on a life of it's own. Finally, they got to the end of the circle. My teacher said, "Okay, but I'm not sure everybody had a chance to say everything they wanted to, so let's go around the circle again."  The students really ripped into him the second time.  He thanked them for their feedback. You have to know this guy. I just love him!

    The rest of the two week training went without any further mutinous activity. The students even seemed to warm up to him, but it did take awhile.  At the end of the training, the students told him how much they enjoyed having him as their teacher, how much they learned from him, and asked him to come back for another segment. He just looked at them and said, "No! Forget you!"   

    Okay, that's not exactly what he said, but you get the point. It certainly was enough to jar me out of my dream like state. I bolted up to a sitting position and just sat there, in jaw dropping, eye blinking stunned astonishment. He continued, "Why would I subject myself to that kind of abuse after the way you disrespected me? I don't need this stuff in my life." (Once again, I did some family friendly editing).

    Light bulbs flashed in my brain as a smile slowly came to my face. What a concept! Saying no, setting boundaries, and making decisions based on what you want to do rather than what someone else wants you to do. Did I mention that I love this guy? 

   From that moment on, anytime I was in a situation that wasn't working for me, I remembered that story. I would smile as I imagined myself repeating my teacher's exact words before I simply said, "No." 
    
    At graduation, I hugged my teacher and reminded him of that story and told him that the most valuable thing I learned in the four years was that magic phrase and the power of "no." He hugged me back and said, "Isn't it interesting how we all get what we need from Feldenkrais, and at the precise time that we need it?" That's just one of the many things that I love about Feldenkrais. I just love this Method, and I still love my teacher. I also love the freedom that I have from that one little lesson, the silly little story that taught me the power of "no."   

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP
    

Stormy weather, cucumbers, and neuroplasticity.

    I love storms. I love the way the sky darkens and the wind starts to build. I even love the clap of thunder and the lightening strikes (as long as they aren't too close). I love to sit outside and watch them, but of course I go inside when things get a little too intense. Why am I not afraid?

    When my sisters and I were small, a particularly violent thunderstorm started developing. Terrified, we cuddled together in the kitchen with my mother, who kept trying to distract us and keep us calm. Suddenly, my mother opened the refrigerator and pulled out several cucumbers. She started slicing them, and we all sat around the kitchen table eating cucumbers and playing games. Although we still jumped at the closest lightening strikes and the loudest thunder, we kept talking, playing and eating cucumbers even after the power went out.

    Later, my mother told us that she didn't want us to be afraid of storms. You see, her mother was terrified of storms and would cower in the kitchen, tremble with each bolt of lightening, and cover her ears against the sound of thunder. Her father, on the other hand, would sit on the front porch, watch the storms and happily bellow out songs in Serbian. So, my mother had a choice. She could cower in the kitchen with my grandmother and reinforce the pattern of fear, or, she could face her own fear and sit on the porch with my grandfather and witness the storm. She chose my grandfather. The result? She lost her fear of storms.

    What my mother did for us and my grandfather did for her was a simple but brilliant example of neuroplasticity. They both created an environment where we could learn new patterns of behavior in how we respond to the experience of a thunderstorm. Each one of us were able to process our own individual learning experience, not in a cognitive (thinking) way, but in a visceral, organic way. Even though we were frightened, a safe, comfortable environment was provided. The natural flexibility of our nervous systems (which is present in all of us during our entire life time) took over and showed us new and different ways to respond to the scary situation.

    Life is full of unexpected storms. Sometimes the lightening can be blinding, and the thunder deafening. The sky can become so dark we feel that we may never see the sun again. But, now we know we have choices.We can cower and try to hide from them until they're over, and live in fear of the next one. We can find someone to sit next to, and listen as they sing through them, and learn from their courage. We can have someone guide us through with grace and dignity, allowing us to learn our own strategy for weathering the storm.  Trust the intelligence of your nervous system to figure out the right strategy for you, and realize that you have many options rather than being stuck in a pattern or habit that may not be serving you well.

     I remember that day every time a storm comes up or I make a cucumber salad. It's also another opportunity for me to silently thank my mother for the many gifts she gave us. Here's the funny part: years ago I asked her, "Mummy, why cucumbers?" She replied, "It was the only thing I could find in the refrigerator!"

                                      
Be healthy! And look for the cucumbers in the storm.
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP