As I awoke this morning I found myself lying on my belly with my feet hanging over the edge of my bed. Obviously I don’t have a pet cat. I wiggled my toes, then the ankles of my feet. “Mm hm.” My head was turned to the left, easy for me. “I haven’t put my hands on my back in quite a while,” me was thinking. And I was surprised by the lack of range of motion when I did. My right hand could slide a bit to the left and to the right over the small of my back, but couldn’t slide up between my shoulder blades, let alone touch its fingers to my neck.

“We haven’t been on a beach vacation in a long time!” Would that expression be equivalent to that of the hands on the back traveling up to the neck? Can our hands take journeys over our bodies just like our bodies take journeys over the physical world, The planet Earth, that sprouted our bodies?

And what if, let’s say, if there’s a road block? What-if there’s no roads at all? How would we get anywhere? Put a jungle machete to the undergrowth? Force the convoy over the mountain? How will I make my hands travel up to in-between my shoulder-blades on my back? Would a long and far journey of the hands to regions less developed for tourism take a longer, more thorough preparation and longer traveling time as well?

I was just flipping through Thomas Hanna’s book, Bodies in Revolt, and couldn’t figure out what the title is playing on. I was thinking there might have been a popular book called Minds in Revolt, the mindset of the human race in the 1960ties and 70ties viewed from a philosophical angle, but I couldn’t find such a title.

Freud, Reich, Lorenz, Piaget, Nietzsche, Feldenkrais… as I was turning the pages of Thomas Hanna’s book I started to wonder, again, Why bother? Why bother in this world we’re living? Why bother with anything of any depth, when everybody else is hooked on scrolling Insta and Tik Tok? Why do people look for exercise programs when what they really are looking for is being heard, acknowledged, integrated in a community, loved? And maybe the one thing that would sooth their pain is the one thing they refuse to even look at?

Well for me it’s more difficult. I can’t seem to find deliverance and absolution in barbells and steamed chicken breasts. I slid down a rabbit hole of sorts and I can’t help but wonder how deep it goes. Might be this rabbit hole doesn’t end in a heap of sticks and dry leaves and another long passage, though. Might be it’s just a hole in the ground. A hole filled with trash, like most everything in nature that was once pure and pristine and stunningly beautiful.

Asian workers are strong. Stronger than anything the Western world of athleticism and fitness has to offer. At least that’s my opinion. And they sport far stronger, more natural looking bodies too, in my opinion. Asian workers work 7 days a week, only god knows how many hours per day, and most of the year round. They work hard manual labour with little help from large scale industrial machines. In the past few centuries they built thousands of miles of high-speed railroads in Asia, millions and millions of residential buildings, many of them 30 stories high or higher, a million miles of roads, hundreds of airports and large scale train stations, and they did put the cables in the ground as well.

Asian workers are the pinnacle of human strength and endurance. Yet they look nothing like the Western ideal of strength and fitness. Asian workers are slender and can wear shirts without filling the upper sleeves like bloated sausages. Despite their mind boggling strength and endurance they can stand tall and relaxed and they can squat. Indeed they can squat. They can work in a squatting position for hours. The squat is not a constraint, but a very flexible starting and resting position for moving into a large variety of demanding other postures. Asian workers are flexible, strong, well coordinated, and very creative in their movements.

Asian workers define the rules of Western Biomechanics that say, “The human spine can’t be flexible AND strong.” And yet here they are, flexible AND strong.

Meanwhile, there’s a flood of famous Youtube fitness trainers teaching How to squat. And in doing so—some of them—make more money in a month than the average Asian worker makes in a year, maybe even in a lifetime. When I look at these famous fitness Youtubers I can’t help but wonder, “Will the West finally forget how the Asian squat even looks like?”

In the light of this rather dramatic forgetting… I mean… why is this even happening? Is it the lockdowns? Do Western people not travel to Asia anymore? Do Asians living in Western countries not squat in public? Are Asians who work in Western countries as landscapers or contractors, do they not move like Asian people? Is nobody paying attention anymore? Or is nobody looking at each other anymore?

I thought I might go around here—in Vietnam—and film and shoot a little bit of local people squatting, make a video on that… but then I realised that my contribution will be naught in comparison to big fitness Youtubers. I would spend an entire week of work and then probably get a thousand views and that would be that. And it’s not like Western culture and society isn’t falling apart anyways. What is a woman? Why would anyone care about real Asian squats and manual labour and culture in Asia? Why should I bother?

Well, of course. Because I do care. And I love to share. And I love to think that someone is listening, someone who is compassionate, and understanding, and is not afraid to look at the world as it is. There is beauty. There are things that make sense.

Here’s a few photos I took in the past couple of weeks I would love to share with you. They are from my life, moments that I felt, that touched me. Maybe they might mean something to you too. Have a great day, my dear.

A fisherman on Phu Quy Island, Vietnam, “preparing” Sea urchins, and a tourist watching him work. It’s one of the most loved local-tourist attractions on this small island to wander the ocean floor at low tide and look for Sea urchins, collect them, and have them grilled for dinner. For us Westerners the fisherman might look to have a somewhat bent or broken middle back, but after 20 minutes of working in this position he stood up to stand tall and upright and relaxed just fine, showing no signs of fatigue or sourness.

A couple of kids running to go catch some Sea urchins. The beach is very busy during low tide. Even some stray dogs are out and about to forage on that strange ground.

Anne and Linh squatting, resting, looking at an interesting thing they have found, sharing findings.

Linh squatting down to get a better look at the Blue starfish we have found. Squatting is a good method to get the eyes a bit closer to the floor.

Two early birds sitting at the beach side at 5:30am, chatting, and watching their friends taking a bath. If you look closely, the woman on the left is sitting on a thin cushion.

Thư looking at tiny oysters. I too didn’t know that there are mini versions of oysters, but of course, small comes before big. I was shocked to learn that all of them have already been cracked open and collected by local fishermen.

Thư sitting on the floor for resting, then coming up to squatting and finally standing.

And last but not least me myself, with my stiff legs and all, I too enjoy a good squat, to the best of my abilities.

For most of human history walking was not a fitness exercise. Mankind walked and ran to get from one place to another. It was a means of transportation. Only recently walking and running was turned into fitness. 10,000 steps a day to keep you fit. Nordic walking. Jogging. Running. The Ultra Marathon. Walking became the means to its own end. All fair and good. In the same spirit I don’t think that the Asian Squat per se is a fitness exercise. I think it’s a posture of daily life, a posture for action, for doing something, even if that action is just looking at something, or resting and enjoying a breather. It’s a posture like any other, like standing, or side-lying, or kneeling. And is probably best maintained by including it in one’s active movement repertoire, and by not being stressed out over it, me guesses.

Doctors always told me that you can only get sick if you’ve been infected or in contact with a virus. I want to tell them that if you drive your motorbike along the coastline of the Pacific Ocean for 4 hours in a sweaty T-Shirt and a sunburn then you can get just as sick, virus or not.

Actually it started on the ferry (Phu Quy Island to Phan Thiet). The day was stormy and all ferry rides but one were cancelled due to the strong waves. Inside the ferry every passenger seemed to fill half a dozen small plastic bags, a smell I couldn’t bear and I didn’t want to contribute to. So I was sitting on the upper deck outside, my once windproof jacket getting soaked with sea water, my hoodie fluttering hard against my ears, and two dozen Vietnamese men struggling to keep their cigarettes alight.

Even after all that I did somewhat well. But of course, the next day I needed to catch the first sunlight at 5am and walk along the windy beach, sweaty all over again, here it’s always around 30°C (86°F). Also, here in Vietnam at 5am the beach is already very crowded, people of all ages are out and about doing exercise, chatting, bathing. I’m pretty amazed at how well seniors can move here, I would say most of them are stronger and more flexible in their hip and shoulder joints than I am. How could I miss to see that? Of course I went out to the beach, despite my beginning cold, and joined in with a bit of head and shoulder circles.

Finally, the 3rd day in a row of strong winds, strong sun, and wet clothes did me in. I haven’t been sick like that in a decade or more. I think the last time was food poisoning in China, in 2008.

Anyways, I was lying flat like an overcooked zucchini, with my eyes too painful to keep them open, but I had my feet hanging over the edge of the bed and did hours of movements with my ankles and toes. These movements were easily available to me and I enjoyed exploring.

I was thinking of a French guy I saw at the beach. For most of the day I seemed to be the only foreigner around, so he immediately drew my attention. I saw him from his back at first, and was thinking, “Well that’s unusually inflexible feet, the entire legs actually, like two wooden sticks. How could a Vietnamese have such stiff legs?” Vietnamese people in general are very flexible, and exercise their flexibility all day round. You hardly see a Vietnamese person in a stiff position like us Westerners for any length of time. Only when the guy turned around I though, “Oh,  french”. Not that I knew, but I knew that back home in central Europe we don’t squat much. The British high society considered squatting impolite. It would actually be interesting to read a historical record/account of why people in central Europe don’t squat, and why a certain aristocratic stiffness of all joints seems to be the more appropriate body posture than a flexible one.

Anyways, I found interesting questions concerning the bending of my knees (after the feet movements, in lying prone on my belly, I was playing with pressing one or both knees against the bed, to see how this relates to my hip joints, shoulders, and feet). I was still thinking about my previous post, and the lack of dreams and mystery. I was a bit unhappy of how that writing came out, and was looking for a positiv turn, light, hope, something uplifting, with joy.

There’s a way of moving that can lead us into the unknown, into the realm of mystery, into making great, unexpected, meaningful discoveries about movement and sensing and feeling and thinking. And I suspect that this path does not reveal itself with common instructing nor exercising. There’s more to movement than the feeling of victory when having aced an instruction or struck a new personal record. Concerning teaching, the fitness instructions I see on Youtube—by most influencers and fitness professionals—are like the sun: with the sun out it’s impossible to see the stars. On the other hand, to stick with that sun and stars metaphor, we need light to see things. Although, however, we can still think and feel and sense and move under the light of the stars, me thinks. Probably there’s a time and place for everything.

I have the feeling I’m getting better again. Yesterday I couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to even read a single page, but now, look at me, I finished a blog post! Wish you a great day, or night, my dear.

So… I was browsing the winner’s list of the Hugo Award for Best Novel (an award given each year for science fiction or fantasy stories.) I first clicked on titles I’ve already heard of, like Alfred Bester’s The Demolished Man, William Gibson’s Neuromancer, Frank Herbert’s Dune, and then also peeked into the Wikipedia pages of titles I’ve never heard of before.

I looked at the dates, 1953 onwards, it seems to me that there was a theme—an air and dreaming—of the development of humankind. If we humans had evolved just a bit more, we would have developed telepathy, levitation, bilocation, telekinesis, precognition, instant and remote healing, eternal youth, freedom of the mind and body (and all that) and many psychic powers as listed so eloquently in, for example, various Indian religions that seemed to have influenced Western dreaming.

Fast forward to the year 2022. Nowadays people dream of being able to have a safe place to sleep without having to worry about next month’s rent, being able to afford electricity, food, medical services and their data plan. And as far as the development of humankind is concerned: being able to sit and walk without being crushed by pain, maybe even being able to perform some Insta-worthy acrobatic feats, and being somewhat free of common chronic diseases, including restlessness and restless legs—this sort of things—seem to be the height of all striving. What a harsh adjustment of dreams for society in general, me thinks. Where’s the mystery? Where’s the unknown? Where are our dreams? What is life without dreams and visions and goals for humankind?

Differences in Feldenkrais lessons that make a difference

In the original lesson #4 “Tilting Cross Legs” from the Esalen Workshop (1972) Moshé Feldenkrais said, verbatim:

And very slowly tilt both legs, both knees, in the direction of the floor to the right, of course, to the right.

However, in the Stransky Notes this same instruction reads:

And now very slowly tilt both legs towards the floor, to the right. The weight of the right leg will draw the legs down to the right.

Which might or might not make it a very different movement, a very different lesson even. I will have to listen to the full lesson first to report my final observations.

Feldenkrais-inspired lessons for beginners

I pulled out Thomas Hanna’s mp3 recordings of his workshop Somatic Exercises for the Legs and Hip Joints, eavesdropped into some recordings randomly, then started at the beginning and did not make it through the first 10 minutes. It’s very well presented and recorded and it’s a great beginners class and all, but I just don’t seem to have the nerves for it anymore. During the past 15 years I have been listening to literally thousands of hours of Feldenkrais-inspired movement instructions and maybe I did exhaust my patience. I guess I’ll have to step up my own movement practice. I think at this point I’m boring myself into exhaustion and what could be worse than that.

Observing fashion trends

Here in Vietnam every woman seems to have fresh eyebrow tattoos. Shading, microblading, micro-shading. It looks nice, for sure. Odd, maybe, that they all seem to have more or less the same shape and size. I think there’s more variety of eyebrow tattoos in the EU and US.

For myself I don’t care having my eyebrows done. Instead, I’m still waiting for wigs to make a come back. I think I’d don a yellow or bright green one, cut like I was 14yo Justin Bieber or som’thin.

Browsing Instagram: breaking free

Lots and lots of young people presenting their gymnastic exercises, getting in and out of hand-stands and back-bridges in thousands of variations, free from the rules and environment of Competitive Gymnastics. To me that’s nothing short of amazing.

It’s marvellous, monumental; in the sense of ownership of self. I agree with the great scholar and teacher-who-quit John Taylor-Gatto that it’s the nature of all bureaucracies to attract psychopaths (and sociopaths) who then will rise and govern their organisation’s members. “All large bureaucracies, public or private, are psychopathic to the degree they are well-managed.” (quote from The Underground History Of American Education) I applaud all young people who break free from that with any of their thinking, feeling, sensing, or moving.

I don’t think you could be part of a Competitive Gymnastics team without being part of that team or representative of the system, so that money’s gone. But it seems like people can do very well with Instagram and selling their own courses. Maybe even build their own little bureaucracies. History repeated, maybe. Wouldn’t be the first time. I hope not though, I hope they really roll and turn and twist themselves free. I can’t think of any other reason for handstands.

Browsing Instagram: gymnastics and child rearing

I see many parents pushing their 3-5 year olds into formal gymnastic exercises that are clearly above their ability. Hopeful and submissive glances towards the camera, pride and praise caught by the microphone. Do I need to comment? “Sad. I hope they will be fine, both parents and their children.”

Browsing Instagram: handstands—fashion trend or merely good manners?

The young people push themselves to ever more spectacular movement combinations. I often do a screen recording so I can scrub the video back and forth:

A guy lying supine, turning into a back-bridge, and turning further into a handstand. I pick a moment, the moment when he lifts his head away from the floor. It’s only a moment, half of a second. He struggles to lift his head, but he’s young and strong and pulls through with great vigour. I scrub back and forth… and think of a lesson that would make it easy for him to lift his head.

A girl is standing, lowering her pelvis downwards and backwards, tucking her left foot under, rolling backwards over her head, extending her left leg, planting her left foot while reaching up with her right foot high up in the air, giving the floor a push with the top of her head and… this went nowhere but looked cool… for a short moment her left foot was standing, her legs straight and single file with the right foot high up towards the ceiling, the torso standing out to the side of this pole of legs like a flag in the wind… and then she let herself fall forwards into a handstand. I scrub back and forth… I wish I could roll like that over my lower back. I never could, not even when I was 10. I recall it well, I never could, my back was broken from the start. I could sit and roll backwards over a shoulder, but my lower back always felt like I was driving over a speed bump. I wish I could roll backwards like she can so easily. I wish my back was never broken.

I find the original recordings of Moshé Feldenkrais quite tedious to listen too, boring as well as overwhelming at times, but—generally speaking—also very interesting. Actual speaking conveys a lot of information: rhythm, pace, intonation, pronunciation, pauses, phrasing and re-phrasing, the latter especially interesting to me as a teacher, it’s all there in these voice recordings.

Furthermore, in some recordings Moshé Feldenkrais was teaching in the English language, therefore nothing is lost in translation. I transcribed the first 2 minutes of recording #4, titled “Tilting Cross Legs”, from his Esalen Workshop (1972):

Please lie on your back, spread your feet, slightly, bend them, bend, spread them, spread, your feet, your legs! Bend them, bend the knees, bend the knees and let the feet stand on the floor. Ok. Now. Some of you are having the feet much too close together. You see, when we say, spread your feet with no other indication, the distance between the feet should be at least the width of the pelvis. Otherwise, obviously that person uses his adductors in such an abnormal way that it’s … you should pay attention.

Now. Cross the right leg over the left, cross it over. The right leg over the left.

And very slowly tilt both legs, both knees, in the direction of the floor to the right, of course, to the right.

Now bring them back to standing position, and keep on tilting the legs like that. Right, always to the floor and back to the middle, back to the neutral position. Slowly.

And now just listen to your body. What happens to the right hip joint? Which part is lifted off the floor? Which parts in the back, in the chest are lifted off the floor?

And the soft part between the pelvis and the ribs on one side is being stretched, on the other one, is being compressed. The ribs on one side are pulled apart, on the other they are pulled toge… pushed together. Just keep on doing it.

Parallel to that exist the Judith Stransky Notes (held in private collection by the International Feldenkrais Guild, purchasable only by their members), a collection of transcript-like notes from the same Workshop (Esalen 1972). I find it interesting to compare the original audio recordings to the Stransky Notes. Even more so since for many years I only had access to the Stransky Notes, not the audio recordings.

In these Stransky Notes some parts seem to be written almost verbatim, while other parts are shortened. Furthermore, there are things added that Moshé Feldenkrais did not say at all, and which might change the movements, the student’s self-organisation and learning, say the lesson as a whole, considerably. Isn’t that interesting? Makes me wonder all the things my own students hear that I did not say, or do not hear even though I said it repeatedly. And, of course, makes me wonder just as much: how much do I myself hear, mis-hear, miss and make up—without me noticing? But compare for yourself:

Lie on your back. Spread your feet a little apart. Bend the knees so that the feet stand on the floor.

Cross the right leg over the left.

And now very slowly tilt both legs towards the floor, to the right. The weight of the right leg will draw the legs down to the right.

Bring them back to the standing position. Do this movement a number of times, tilting towards the floor and back to the middle. Do this slowly.

And now listen to your body. What happens to the right hip joint? Which part is lifted off the floor? Which parts of the back and the chest are lifted off the floor?

And the soft part between the pelvis and the ribs on one side is being stretched, while the other side is being compressed. The ribs on one side are pulled apart, and on the other side they are pushed together. Keep on doing the movement a few more times.