Movement can teach us about Life

Children know how to move. They don't think about it, they just do it. They move any way they can. They'll lay upside down in a chair, or shake their bodies like wet dogs, wriggle like worms, or slither across a shiny floor, all just because they can. If you ask them why they do these things they'll say "it's fun", or "it feels good".

A recent career change left me wondering why I didn't move like that anymore. Why didn't I do things just because they were fun or felt good? Why did my body's movement, and most other's, seem so limited?

Four years ago I began my training as a Trager® practitioner and a movement educator. We were lead in exercises that asked us to move our bodies intuitively, to explore our range of motion in as many ways as possible. I just stood there, not really knowing what to do or how to begin. My decade of tai chi training wasn't helpful at all; it was too methodical, too rehearsed, too predictable. I noticed that the people with dance backgrounds were already moving gracefully. The Trager® instructors modeled their own versions of exploring their personal space with their bodies. The rest of us just shifted our weight back and forth on our feet feeling out of place, not knowing how to even begin to participate.

I've come a long way since then and can explore movement more freely now. Sometimes I use the movement to release tension, sometimes it just feels good, or is simply fun.

What is movement, anyway? I looked it up in my Webster's dictionary and found this part of the definition of 'move' particularly interesting; "to proceed in a certain direction or toward a certain state or condition". Is the way I move acting as a catalyst for how my body or mind or life will feel in the future? If so, how? And should I consider training my body to move differently, perhaps with a specific intention?

I began to wonder how I had initially lost that joy for movement as well as uninhibited laughter and spontaneous happiness that all children seem to be born with. When, and why, did I begin to lose that childlike fun and slowly start to allow myself to harden into adulthood? When was it that I began to abandon the beautiful experience of just having a body and being alive?

I suspect there has been a time in most of our early lives when we were taught not to feel so much, not to move so much, not to express so much. Maybe the people around us couldn't handle it. Perhaps our behavior brought up too much of their own 'stuff', their own loss of childlike behavior, their own repressed feelings, their own sense of oppression.

Most adults restrict themselves to a small range of motion. Even most sports have a limited amount of movement compared to the expansive and spiraling motions that the body is actually capable of. What does this restriction say about who we are? Have we also dampened the joy and passion in our lives?

Opening up to these ideas and questions will most certainly bring challenges. Expanding our bodies and minds demands change. When we open up, we 'see' things, we 'feel' things, we 'notice' things. If you see 'it', you might feel compelled to do something about 'it', whatever 'it' might be. For many people it seems easier to just pretend not to see, not to feel, not to move. It can seem easier to not notice ourselves, but only in the short run, and at what expense? We might ask ourselves what we lose when we close our eyes to our own pain and difficulty, our own selves. Could this be where some of our physical restrictions begin to show up? What if our physical 'tightness' is a reflection of the limitations we impose on our experience and expression of self?

The majority of my adult life has been spent watching and learning about movement and life, and how they are interrelated. My hobbies and my career are centered around activities that challenge me to watch and work with a person's body and intuit how to help them understand themselves better so that they might learn, grow, shift, and become a more accurate expression of who they are. My own bodymind has changed tremendously over the years as a result of the many things I have learned intellectually and physically. My own experiences show me how my body is a reflection of my mind. It could also be said that my mind is a reflection of my body. I find this idea exciting and liberating. It means I can change my body by changing my mind. It also means I can change my mind by changing my body. Maintaining a focus on joy, growth, and learning has enabled me to have intention in my life, to direct myself towards how I want to feel.

Do you want to be more childlike, more spontaneous, more carefree? How can you shift your thoughts and movements to something lighter, freer, happier, more fun, more playful?

You might try a physical activity that promotes mind body integration. Mind body integration implies that your mind and body work together, as one entity. That's how you're designed to work, because the mind and body are one. It's our mis perception that leads us to have two words for the same thing. Personally, I have benefited greatly from practicing Kokikai Aikido and the Trager® Approach. The changes I have experienced in my life as a result of these two arts has been astounding. I am much happier and more relaxed than I have ever been in my life. I am beginning to realize, in retrospect, that I have never felt truly safe in the world. The combination of Aikido and Trager® is helping me learn how to stay relaxed and confident in a world that can be confusing and incredibly challenging. These are the lessons I offer in my Aikido classes and Trager® sessions. As I grow and learn about life I search for ways to express these experiences through my teaching so that you can benefit as well. My intention is to help my students and clients discover a posture of peace, confidence and happiness.

Learning about your own mind and body leads to the realization of your wholeness, and your own innate ability to guide yourself through life. Discovering yourself through movement can be an exciting and fun way to live your life more fully.