Fool me once…

I was maybe six years old when I discovered the red-hot glowing cigarette lighter in my dad’s sedan. Come to think of it, in the late 1970s and early 1980s, here in Austria, most cars had cigarette lighters built in, right next to the in-car radio in the center console—to make it more convenient to light a cigarette while driving. Which sounds absolutely nuts from a 2024 perspective.

So, I found out about this device on a family trip to Italy or somewhere, and I discovered it before my younger brother did. Then I did something that I still can’t quite make sense of, even today: I abused my younger brother’s total trust in me by talking him into touching the red-hot glowing tip of the cigarette lighter with his pointer finger, reassuring him that it would not hurt.

As expected, I had a split second of feeling victorious, then a short, good laugh, and then the realization that I had wronged him, followed by deep regret. Thinking back, maybe there’s a standard sequence of feelings to this kind of action, much like the Kübler-Ross model, also known as the five stages of grief: first denial, then anger, bargaining, depression, and finally—if ever—acceptance.

I still deeply regret tricking my brother into touching that cigarette lighter. For two reasons:

1. This lesson—that we will be disappointed or betrayed by people we love and trust—is one we will have to learn several times throughout our lives. But it saddens me that my younger brother had his first encounter with this bitter lesson at such a young age, and from me, his trusted older brother, of all people.

2. From that point onwards, I felt that the trust between him and me was never the same. Because of this one, stupid thing. So that was a big loss I had to deal with myself. Maybe that’s another one of life’s non-negotiable, hard lessons.

I wonder, why did I do that? Do we all do such things? Are all people like this? Or just a few? Is it built into our child-rearing? Was it in my upbringing?

Thinking of it, I recall that my dad did similar things to me. For example, around that time, when I was maybe 6 or 8 years old, he took me along to play football with his friends. Afterwards, they were standing around the trunk of his car, which had a duffle bag containing two bottles of water in it. In front of his friends, my dad pulled one bottle out, opened it, and offered it to me to drink. I remember that the adults around me started to chuckle and giggle, which I didn’t comprehend why. But I was thirsty after all that football playing, so I had a good swig. It wasn’t water. It burned in my mouth; I had to spit it out and cough. Much later I learned that it was schnapps, a clear, high-alcohol liquor. They all had a good laugh, and my dad, quite contently, took the bottle from my hands and put it back into the trunk. I don’t think he had the same feelings of regret that I had towards my younger brother in the cigarette lighter incident.

Why do we do that? Is this a learned behavior we pass on from generation to generation? Is it because we got hurt as children but had no way of getting even, and therefore do these kinds of compensatory, stupid things to everyone within our reach? Unknowingly, unconsciously, like robots acting out programs? Again and again, without ever getting even?

Well, I do hope I broke that cycle, at least within my psyche, my body, my life. From that cigarette lighter incident onwards, I ran into the same “program” a couple more times, but I feel it had less and less control over me as such things happened less and less severely, and less and less often.

The last “big” incident that I noticed was again with my younger brother, some 15 years ago or so. He suffered from knee pain, and as (bad) luck would have it, I saw a fitness trainer on YouTube demonstrate a knee exercise that he claimed would fix any knee pain. You know how well they come across, these super-fit-looking, young fitness trainers on YouTube with their big smiles, groomed eyebrows, perfect teeth, perfect hair, authoritative voices and positive attitudes—I trusted that guy for no real reason. At that time, I was already a Feldenkrais teacher, but I did not have sufficient experience and knowledge in the field of functional fitness training. So, I went straight to recommending this exercise to my brother, and promptly his knees hurt even more than before, and lastingly so. Ouch.

On the upside, I think those unpleasant experiences made me a better teacher. Nowadays, I’m extra, extra careful when making suggestions or showing exercises myself. Usually, I only film and share lessons that are tried and tested, that I’ve already done sufficiently often myself and with clients, that I understand well, and I am sure they do good and have little in them that could cause harm.

In my work, including my Youtube channel, you will not see excessively big claims, marketing talk, power talk, or attempts to pep you into doing something you might regret later. And this, again, is for the same two reasons I’ve learned with my younger brother:

1. It’s for your won good, my priority is to keep you safe and provide conditions for moving and learning that I believe, and hope, will make you feel better. When clients come to see me they trust me. At no point do I want to comprise that trust.

2. It’s for my own good, I do depend on your well-being and getting better, and in turn I do depend on your support. At no point do I want to comprise that relationship.

In this sense, I wish you a great day and happy moving and rolling about to my movement instructions! :)

Feldenkrais lessons, a definition

I write something, then I paste it into ChatGPT to touch up the grammar and sentence structure. Then I rewrite it again, and again. Then I find all that boring, too technical, too bland and too uninspiring. I start the whole thing from scratch, again, from a personal perspective. Then I have that cleaned up again, which in turn I need to clean up again. Finally we end up with something worthwhile.

A first writing

A teaching practice inspired by Moshé Feldenkrais and the Feldenkrais Method is grounded in principles of neuroplasticity and biomechanics, as well as knowledge of anatomy, psychology, kinesiology, functional movement science, and related fields. It relies on observable and measurable changes in movement and posture, using the practitioner’s expertise to guide interventions.

In Feldenkrais and related methods, practitioners observe movements and physical restrictions to form hypotheses about potential issues, shortcomings, and areas for improvement. These hypotheses are tested through gentle, well-sequenced movements, along with tactile and verbal cues and questions, to assess improvement in function and comfort.

The process involves continuous feedback from the client. Practitioners inquire about sensations, feelings, and understanding through tactile and verbal communication, ensuring a responsive and adaptive approach to enhance movement and well-being.

What are the principles?

Principles for designing Feldenkrais-inspired movement strategies and sequences might include, but are not limited to

  • reciprocal inhibition,
  • activation and warm-up,
  • exercises to improve proprioception and sensory awareness,
  • reversal of distal and proximal movement initiation as well as other variations regarding the location of movement initiation,
  • movement differentiation,
  • establishing movement patterns such as counterbalancing of arms and legs,
  • establishing patterns for everyday movements such as turning, sitting up, lying down and improving the efficiency thereof,
  • variations in the intensity and trajectory of pressure in pulling and pushing to find, demonstrate and learn the best and worst pathways, and everything in between,
  • effort substitution,

All that but shorter

A teaching practice inspired by Moshé Feldenkrais and the Feldenkrais Method leverages principles of neuroplasticity and biomechanics to improve movement and posture. This method is rooted in an understanding of anatomy, psychology, kinesiology, pedagogy, and functional movement science. Practitioners observe movements to form hypotheses that are tested—as well as improved—through gentle, well-sequenced movements.

These interventions use tactile and verbal cues, and continuous client feedback. Key principles include reciprocal inhibition, movement differentiation, and the improvement of everyday movements.

Shorter

A Feldenkrais-inspired teaching practice uses gentle, guided movements to improve your posture, coordination, and everyday activities. Practitioners observe your movements, provide personalized feedback, and help you overcome physical restrictions for better overall well-being.

Shorter!

Feldenkrais-inspired teaching uses gentle movement and personalised feedback to improve how we hold, perceive and guide ourselves in everyday activities.

In 2 tags

  • Neuroplasticity-based Movement Practice
  • Integrated Somatic Approach

Ok, Figure It Out, how do I experience Feldenkrais classes?

It’s either about movement, or about sensing something. It’s not strenuous, and usually clever, surprising, intelligent, gentle. It can be boring, but it can also be super interesting. I like the kind of lesson that helps me discover something interesting about myself, something that I didn’t know yet, or something that I’ve forgotten, and which is engaging and feels good to explore, and afterwards provides a feeling of more freedom, range of movement, or smoothness. Lighter, more upright, inspired.

A refined version

Feldenkrais-inspired lessons focus on movement and sensory awareness. They are gentle and resourceful, often surprising and not strenuous. While some may find them boring, they can also be deeply engaging and facilitate discoveries about oneself and one’s abilities. These lessons feel good to explore and typically result in a perceived increase in range of motion, ease of movement, a more upright posture, and a sense of lightness and inspiration.

Asking AI to help me understand a Feldenkrais lesson

For a challenging to understand movement instruction, let’s look at the beginning of Feldenkrais lesson AY #541, “Inverting hands including more.” This lesson involves movements of the arms, hands, and shoulders/shoulder-blades, and will be increasing body awareness, flexibility, and comfort in these areas.

According to the Copyright Information on the IFF (International Feldenkrais Federation) website, the IFF does not allow for quoting any of their original Feldenkrais materials to any length outside of private study groups and non-profit purposes, not even under Fair Use (to their own demise, I might suspect.) Therefore I paraphrase:

Sit comfortably in a cross-legged position, adopting an Eastern-style posture. Gradually, and with ease, begin turning your left arm inward between your legs, ensuring it feels comfortable and enjoyable. Repeat this gentle rotation of the entire left arm multiple times, aiming to eventually have the palm facing upward towards the ceiling. Allow your shoulder to participate in the turning motion, and let your body move naturally along with it. Once done, rest by lying on your back.

My paraphrasing is about as complete as the original, you wouldn’t find any additional cues or information. In the original class some students might have started with some movements to their understanding, and then all other students might have picked up, and since Moshé Feldenkrais didn’t object (as per the transcript) it might have been the movement he had in mind, and the class proceeded.

However, without the context of a live class, it might not be quite as clear what to do. All we know for sure is that Feldenkrais lessons are full of surprises and unusual movements. Or as Carlos Castaneda wrote, “non-ordinary states of consciousness,” which in the context of Feldenkrais classes might be “non-ordinary movements.”

I asked Brave’s AI Leo (based on Mixtral 8x7B), after having given it the original instructions: Turning my left arm inward, does this mean my elbow is starting to face the ceiling?

Leo: No, when the text says to “turn the whole left arm slowly many times with the intention to turn the palm of the hand toward the ceiling,” it does not mean to orient the elbow towards the ceiling. Instead, it is asking you to lift your entire left arm and rotate it slowly in a way that orients the back of your left hand towards the floor and the palm of your hand towards the ceiling. 

I then asked ChatGPT (3.5 free version) the exact same question: Turning my left arm inward, does this mean my elbow is starting to face the ceiling?

ChatGPT: Yes, when you’re turning your left arm inward, it involves a rotation that starts from the shoulder joint and extends down to the hand. Picture your shoulder as the pivot point for the rotation. As you start to turn your left arm inward, your shoulder will rotate inwards slightly, which means your elbow will start to move away from your body and begin to face upwards, towards the ceiling.

Note taken. Ask ChatGPT and not Leo. If this is indeed the right motion will show in the rest of the lesson.

If a movement is not clear in a Feldenkrais lesson then we wait for more instructions, or look at the lesson in its entirety. A Feldenkrais lesson is not like an original patchwork quilt, where various, diverse, unrelated patches of fabric are sewn together to make full use of leftover scraps of fabric. Instead, Feldenkrais lessons are an intricate weaving of the same silk and fine materials with a detailed, rich pattern that becomes easily identifiable when looked at it from a distance, in context of a person’s whole self.

Only occasionally we have to take more steps back and look at a challenging to understand part in the context of a lesson series. It’s a bit like life, really, sometimes we need some distance in order to understand something.

Why am I doing this to myself?

Today I had a lovely chat with a fellow Feldenkrais enthusiast. At some point she was sharing with me her experience of a time where she had some knee (?) pain, and upon rolling about with a Feldenkrais lesson (?) her knee pain resolved, but then she had shoulder pain. I’m sorry I can’t recall the exact details. But we were talking about this in the context of anxiety, body posture and what I clearly remember was that she was talking to her painful shoulder and she asked herself, “Why am I doing this to myself?”

And while we were talking I didn’t think too deeply about it, at first, because I’ve been through so many philosophies, approaches and theories and books and courses already, and thousands and thousands of hours of Feldenkrais in both teaching and self-study and so forth, and been there, worked with that, at first at least that sentence of hers kinda fell into “the long tail.” Or into a Chinese post office kind of situation.

But while I was walking to the coffee shop I’m in right now and writing this, I was shouldering my messenger bag and could feel that old skiing accident in my lower back, which probably wasn’t an accident, and in fact 30 years later why do I still have that pain, there must be something I’m doing to keep that pain or keep recreating this injury, or at least I must do something so that that injury is not getting better, like ever, and clearly it’s neither the bad weather conditions from that painful day 30 years ago, nor my idiotic jump onto an icy patch on the downhill skiing slope, it must be something I’m still doing, and I too asked myself “Why am I doing this to myself?”

And it sounded like a good question. What am I doing to maintain that structural damage, that lower back area that was confirmed to be progressively messed up by X-Ray decades ago, why is it not healing up, what am I doing? How, in a kinestetic-biomechanical sense, but now more importantly in my topic of today type of question: WHY in a metaphysical, philosophical, somato-dings… psychosomatic, kind of sense, What is wrong with me? Why am I doing this to myself? “Really, quoi?”

Juxtaposing Feldenkrais’s reasoning with contemporary biomechanical principles

I was browsing through the book, “The Elusive Obvious,“ by Moshé Feldenkrais, Chapter “Awareness Through Movement”, when this passage stood out to me:

“This seemed to me the real gist of my knee trouble. I could repeat a movement with my leg hundreds of times, I could walk for weeks with no inconvenience whatsoever and suddenly doing what I believed to be the identical movement just once more spoiled everything. Obviously, this one movement was done differently from the former ones, and so it seemed to me that how I did a movement was much more important than what the movement consisted of.”

From a biomechanics perspective we could call this motion and motor patterns. His reasoning sounds smooth, and certainly sounds like as if it could be the founding principle of the entire Feldenkrais Method.

However, his reasoning in that paragraph is also incomplete in the light of modern research. Why is that? Two explanations come to mind:

1. His argument might have been part of his greater reasoning process, and is only one step on the stairs that ultimately lead to the creation of his unique lessons.

2. Maybe we are lucky that Moshé Feldenkrais’s was more excited about exploring the subjective “how” rather than solely the observable mechanical details—as it lead to the creation of his unique lessons, and the discovery of this beautiful “Feldenkrais” movement quality, learning and experiencing.

Moshé Feldenkrais argued that one movement with his knee was done differently from the former ones, and thus lead to his trouble. But maybe that wasn’t the problem at all.

In modern research we know about perturbed motion and motor patterns, but also take into account tissue load, stress and cumulative damage. In this sense we distinguish between tolerance and capacity:

Capacity: In the context of the knees, capacity refers to the structural integrity and biomechanical properties of the joint and surrounding tissues. This includes factors such as bone density, ligament strength, cartilage health, and muscle function. An individual’s knee capacity determines the maximum load or stress that the joint can withstand without experiencing damage or dysfunction.

Tolerance: Knee tolerance, on the other hand, refers to the ability of the joint and surrounding tissues to adapt and withstand stress over time.

In this light, maybe the way Moshé Feldenkrais walked and used his knees was fine. Maybe his motion and motor patterns were completely ok. Maybe his way of walking was well within the capacity of his knees.

However, due to the severe, lasting damage from his accident playing soccer, where somebody jumped onto his extended leg and forced his knee to bend forwards (ouch), causing torn ligaments and muscles, his walking might have exceeded the tolerance of his knee. He might have been able to walk just fine for an hour, or an hour every day, but then the normal load and stress added up and the moment came where he exceeded his knee’s tolerance, and thus his knee failed again.

Therefore, his reasoning “Obviously, this one movement was done differently from the former ones” could just as well have been “Obviously, I exceeded the cumulative tolerance of my knee.” In which case the Feldenkrais Method might have become a series of strengthening exercises with weights and machines in the gym instead 😅😂

Furthermore, there’s the reality of healing. The body has a capacity to heal and repair itself to some degree. However, the wear and tear, the way and also the intensity that we make use of ourselves, as well as other lifestyle choices such as sleep, diet, smoking and drinking, etc, might impair healing; or maybe the cumulative stress we put on ourselves exceeds our capacity for healing. To take the time to lie down and to do small, gentle, slow, intelligently crafted and sequenced movements, became certainly one of the most iconic features of Feldenkrais’s lessons.

To end this blog post, a quote comes to mind, by Ludwig Wittgenstein:

“If someone is merely ahead of his time, it will catch up to him one day.” 

For the longest time I was trying to make sense of this quote. Now, with today’s blog post, I finally have an example that helps me with understanding this quote. Chronic pain and movement problems might be a motivation to start exploring Feldenkrais lessons, but Moshé Feldenkrais wasn’t merely ahead of his time. Instead, he made a substantial contribution to humanity. His lessons do not only help to improve function and provide means for recovery in a humane way, but they ultimately lead to a better understanding of ourselves, our possibilities in live, and our well-being.

Page-flipping through the books of Moshé Feldenkrais

To me, Moshé Feldenkrais is one of the most hilarious old school writers in the library. His books are spiked with knee-slappers. For example, I quote from “Body And Mature Behaviour,” chapter “Localisation Of Function And Maturity”:

“Psychoanalysis, in Freud’s writings at least, deals solely with psychic life. Only very rarely is there any allusion to the fact that psychic life does take place in a physical body. [..] Any such treatment is therefore bound to spend its usefulness rapidly, as it did.” – 

There’s plenty of critique about Freud nowadays, especially with the rise of fields like Somatic Psychology, Neuroscience, Psychosomatic Medicine, and Mind-Body Practices. But who else writes as snippy and is elbow-ing down everyone else in order to promote his own method as much as Moshé Feldenkrais did? Reading, I feel like watching an old school, American Coca Cola vs Pepsi comparative advertisement TV-Spot .. 🤣 LOL

Moshé Feldenkrais truly had a knack for promoting his own method amidst the backdrop of other psychological theories and practices. Let me drop another quote, for example, from his book “The Potent Self”:

“The person must now return to the initial lying position and learn what it feels like to act correctly. [..] Now a word of warning. The incompetent person [..] may think, like a yogi, that special powers are attached to this position, in which he may feel for the first time the sense of well-being [..]”

It’s hilarious. He’s dissing Yoga and at the same time saying that people will experience his exercises as something that has special powers, feeling a sense of well-being like never before.

But then, I can’t deny that, really. As you yourself might be able to confirm.

Postural recession: I simply can’t afford to slouch anymore

Ah good heavens, metaphors of language, transfer of meaning, what a tool. Postural recession is my new word now, really? You too, Brutus?

I always liked to afford 😉 myself a bit of individual style and variety in my posture—I mean the way in which I hold my body when I stand, sit, or walk. A bit of slouching in my shoulders, a bit of depression of my chest, and a bit less of pulling my shoulders backwards than all the brave men all around me who are so good at following all the rules and jumping through all the hoops and believing all and everything that is on the News… including the ads… to exaggerate my bitter exaggeration.

Actually that last bit about the ads is about diet, and not my original thought. It’s from a well researched book, hence my disappointment and slight bitterness. I quote: “In her book »Food Politics,« Marion Nestle exposes a startling reality: despite the belief in individualized and conscious dietary choices, the majority of people actually consume diets that very closely resemble what is promoted in large media campaigns.” Which would still be sad, but at least emotionally acceptable for me, if large media was all about what’s best for the people, their health, and the environment.

Therefore: a bit of slouching as a mildly rebellious act and me saying “I’m not ok with all of that.” I mean, why not? In this Fin-de-siècle revival, or maybe now they call it “general end of the world sentiment,” an Angst of doom for human life on earth shared by every good soul, so why not slouch a bit? Into the face of it all! 😅

However, I think my body ran out of postural currency. I can’t afford to slouch anymore. Is it the unresolvable, chronic inflammation and neuro-inflammation? The slow poisoning through PFAS forever chemicals, and methylmercury that was injected into my body and was not swiftly disposed as promised but is now in my brain, and aluminium, lead, etc? Or was it decades of slowly and consistently grinding down intervertebral-discs and facet-joints? What is it that made me go posturally bankrupt?

Maybe the human body has tighter postural limits than I thought. Maybe the many possibilities for variety in posture are not there to be used as permanent, artistic installations of personal sentiment. Maybe we need to hold ourselves quite tightly aligned to our biological design if we want to live pain free?

And maybe this holds true for many more areas, not just posture? But that would be another thought that should be explored another time.

Your good posture starts here – 3 videos free to watch on Youtube by Alfons @ImprovingAbility Link Click Here

How to stand straight? What does “standing straight” even mean? How to correct posture? How to change old habits, how to establish new ones? Luckily I’ve been exploring these questions for the past 2 decades professionally. I simply need to apply my expertise a bit more myself, increase the dosage of my own medicine, so to speak. How about you, are we into this together?