Is That?: A Movement Lesson
In pain, I stood naked in front of the mirror … searching … twisting … looking for the hernia I figured just had to be there.
My work has been misunderstood. It’s mostly my fault. A couple years ago when I wrote #JustMove some took it as a Hail Mary toward flagrantly drunk-driving through a mindfulness practice. Others heralded it as the quintessential Pilates-Revolution anarchy gesture.
It was neither.
It was just my experience.
What feels like a lifetime of years ago ushered in one of my most valuable physical lessons. I SUFFERED from chronic Sacroiliac Joint dysfunction. I don’t use the Suffer word lightly. This wasn’t a mild discomfort some Tylenol and breath work could erase. This was the kind of pain that radiated so deeply through my pelvis … my whole body … that I found myself in front of a mirror, naked, looking for an inguinal hernia that just wasn’t there.
The feeling lasted 4 years.
During that time I went through a Janda approach to Pilates training / CoreAlign training (so many times that I’m a Master Teacher) / a mentorship with Lolita San Miguel / and ventured through too many other educational experiences to recall. I worked with brilliant local teachers to shed some light on the matter … and passed through the hands of the Who’s Who of the Pilates world.
No help. Zero.
By the end my body was in so much pain that it constantly expected pain. What made it worse … was my Pilates practice. The more “correction” I took in the worse it got. What made it feel better … going to the gym and weightlifting (especially bench presses - anatomy nerds, we could guess all day about THAT connection but let’s just acknowledge it existed).
For a while I thought I’d have to switch careers. (Literally) I mean, how could I professionally teach and sell this work, while my own relationship with it was abusive? I’d tried ALL the things that I’d ever learned to try. Except to let go.
The very first lesson in movement taught to me was “Good movement isn’t about what to contract … It’s about what to let go of.” I’d heard it. I’d always understood it to mean muscles. What if it meant letting go of a form / a concept / a rule / an expectation.
Out of frustration and truthfully as a last resort, I lied down on my Reformer and started to practice everything … Wrong.
I purposefully over-arched.
Came out of alignment.
Contorted this way and that way.
Overloaded some and underloaded other exercises.
I held my breath …….
I made choices!
That session was the OPPOSITE of anything you’d ever find on Instagram. (Or maybe exactly the brilliance mocked by the arrogance of @ThePilatesSnob on her awful #WTFWednesday mess … we’ll talk about that another time.) When I was done I felt … Amazing!
The next day I re-tested … same outcome.
For months I explored and investigated movement choices so far out of the norm that the only reason it could be called “Pilates” was because it said so on the front door. My guiding light for each session was a consistent search for space / freedom / and satiation throughout my body. My practice had changed.
I then case-studied it with a few students … same outcomes.
I’ve now supported enough people of different sizes / shapes / histories / values / and intentions to know that allowing someone to show up fully … aches / pains / doubts / desires and all … as a whole-person … is the only way I can successfully teach a human. Myself included.
My advice is to just start moving. In unique and wonderful ways. Surprise yourself. Scare yourself. Satiate yourself. Listen to your SELF. So that you feel secure in the space you occupy. Secure enough to take risks … risks in your movement and life choices … get comfortable with that vulnerability so you can show up courageously however it calls you.
Turns out I didn’t have a hernia. I just had REAL bad SI Joint pain. I don’t have that anymore. I do have a very strong movement practice, rich in variation, choice, play, risk … and yes … even Pilates.
HOMEWORK: This is inspired by Phillip Beach (www.phillipbeach.com)
Sit down on the ground
Then stand back up
Try it without using your right hand … then without your left … then without both
Try it without letting your right foot ever touch the floor … then your left
Try it with your eyes closed
Try it with your hands behind your back
Try it with a rounded back
Try keeping your legs crossed
How many different ways can you strategize to “stand up” (without repeating yourself) … setting aside the idea that there is a “right” way to do it
Can you use the same lens to explore a single Pilates exercise? A Yoga asana? Place your hands “somewhere else” when you lift weights? Change a few strides when you run? How might this theme apply to sitting in a chair? Just some thoughts.
~ james CRADER
