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
    

The power of graciousness and the gift of friendship...

   
    While preparing our Thanksgiving dinner at our favorite mountain hangout, I heard a bit of commotion outside. I stepped outside to see what all the excitement was about. Across the street several cars were slamming on their brakes, tires squealing, and pulling over onto the side of the road. Car doors opened and people started pouring out of the cars with their cameras ready. Wondering what caught their attention, I noticed two huge bull elk standing in the grass, grazing, and minding their own business.

    The tourists seemed to be getting dangerously close to the elk trying to get their pictures. The basic rules of wildlife etiquette, so to speak, is to admire them from a distance, and do not invade their personal space. You do not approach them, you do not feed them, and if the animal changes it's behaviour, you are way too close for comfort. Apparently this group of shutterbugs either never learned the rules or chose to ignore them. One of the elk abruptly stopped grazing, lifted his head and stomped his feet.

    The tourists backed off, but when the huge elk lowered his head and started grazing again they pressed in even closer. I guess they figured that the elk was just bluffing. He wasn't. He abruptly lifted his head, snorted and jumped effortlessly over the fence, scattering tourists everywhere. I found it very amusing and highly entertaining, especially since no one got hurt, particularly the elk.

    The huge beast stood in the middle of the road, looking annoyed, when he suddenly saw me watching him. He caught my eye and we looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, he tossed his head in the direction of the departing cars as if to say, "morons!" I giggled and agreed wholeheartedly. Satisfied that we shared a common bond, he gracefully trotted across street, up the short driveway to just a few feet from where I sat on the porch railing. We sat together in quiet companionship for a few minutes.

     He must have felt comfortable with me, because he lowered his head and began grazing again.  He was so close that I could hear him pulling the grass from the earth. I could hear him chewing. As a matter of fact, he was so close that I could smell him. His scent was a little wild and game-y, but not unpleasant. I could see how it would appeal to his own kind. He must have read my mind, because at that precise moment he lifted his head and looked at me, as if to say, "You're not so bad yourself." I swear he winked at me as we shared our private joke.

    He returned to his breakfast, and I returned to admiring him. I admired his size and strength, grace and flexibility. I was honored that he was comfortable in my presence, when just a few moments earlier, other members of my species behaved in such a rude and barbaric manner. Maybe he figured that these unusual two legged creatures were more agreeable when they weren't encased in their hard metal shells that they had to break out of just to enjoy the great outdoors.

    Eventually he finished his breakfast and looked off into the woods where a few of his buddies were waiting. He looked at me one last time as if to say, "I have to go....the guys are waiting for me." I understood. He bowed his magnificent head, and I thanked him for his time, adding that he was not only good company, he was a gentleman as well. As I watched him leave, I remembered a phrase that I had recently heard. "Never underestimate the strength and the power of graciousness."

    There are so many lessons in this little story. But the most important one is obvious to me. Treating someone with dignity and respecting their boundaries is a lot more effective than trying to run them down. They may return the favor and reward you with a gift of friendship. That certainly is something to be grateful for, not only on Thanksgiving, but every day of the year.

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