Sounder Sleep System

A recent thread on Feldyforum, the on-line discussion group for practitioners of the Feldenkrais Method, addresses one of the key assumptions of the Feldenkrais Method, and I suppose of somatic education in general. The assumption is that a human being, given several options for action, can be relied on to choose the one that is most efficient, effective, and well organized.

As I read this thread, I notice the omission of one important element, and that is PLEASURE. Pleasure to my mind is our greatest, surest guide to optimal function. Any organism is drawn instinctively to the manner of action or expression which is most pleasurable. And the most pleasurable way is invariably the most effective, the most efficient, the most conserving of our vital energies.

This relationship between pleasure and optimal function was made explicit by neuroscientist Jaak Panksepp in his book Affective Neuroscience. He wrote:

"A general scientific definition of the ineffable concept we call pleasure can start with the supposition that pleasure indicates something that is biologically useful....Useful stimuli are those that inform the brain of their potential to restore the body toward homeostatic equilibrium when it has deviated from its biologically dictated "set-point" level."

Recognizing the biological importance of pleasure can help us to understand and explain the assumption that we always choose the best way. It suggests that if we can, first, discover for ourselves one or several ways of action that are different than what we already know and, second, come to feel and acknowledge which those different ways are indeed more pleasurable, then we are on the way to meaningful change. After all, without pleasure, where is the incentive to change?

Long-time students of the Feldenkrais Method are well acquainted with this principle: Correct action feels exquisitely pleasurable—no matter that we may sometimes experience frustration, even pain, in the process of discovering it. (Some of you will share my fond memory of the blissful expression on Feldenkrais master Gaby Yaron's face, and in her entire being, when she used to pronounce some movement, "Genau Genug!"—exactly enough.) Overly forceful, misdirected action always lacks that pleasurable element.

To the extent that this ability to discover the correct action and to feel the pleasurable feelings that accompany it is generalized, so that we can go on to achieve it in any situation, we begin to enjoy full spontaneity, and full freedom of thought, action, and expression. IMHO, that's what keeps us and our students coming back to the FM year after year.

When I was in art school we were taught to use large, flowing S-curves to define the figure, and tight little "joyous noodling" (sic!) for shading and tone. The teachers never said a word about how to move your body to produce those figures, but when you watched them demonstrate, all the movement was distal, in the fingers, hand, arm, maybe the shoulder. It was "all in the wrist!"

Later, I studied Chinese calligraphy with a Taoist master. He would stand by as you wielded the brush, and if you moved from your hand or arm alone, he would slap your arm and say, "No good!" He insisted that the movement of the brush had to come from the feet, through the pelvis and spine, to the hand. Well, he was certainly no Feldenkrais teacher--but the message was a good one! I remember a huge painting he did with several large, sinuous characters dancing across the page. I asked for a translation and he said, "When the whole body is spacious, the true self emerges spontaneously." I never forgot that!

Many years ago I created a Feldenkrais lesson that illustrates this principle. Here it is in a nutshell:

1) First the student stands, turning slowly to the right and left, gauging the range of movement--how far can you see to the right, to the left? Is the movement perfectly smooth and fluid, or not?

2) Then, standing, turning the pelvis right and left. Then shifting weight right and left. Then combining turning and shifting into a single easy movement. Of course we'll introduce lots of nice non-habitual variations at each stage to make this easy and pleasurable.

3) Then repeat the original turning movement--how do you do it now?

4) Next, the student stands at a table with a large sheet of paper pinned to it. In their (preferably non-dominant) hand they hold a soft conte crayon or charcoal, lightly touching the paper. The idea is to continue those global movements of the pelvis to generate movements of the crayon on the paper, without allowing the cortex or the hand itself, to interfere. Hold the crayon with varying grips. Let the movements become more and more smooth and natural. Try it with one or both eyes closed; while singing or humming; while rolling your eyes; while laughing. And yes, try it with the dominant hand as well!

The AHA! part--the revelatory aspect of this lesson--is that, with some practice, those seemingly aimless movements of the pelvis start to produce some very distinctive, repeating figures on the page--large, sweeping, sideways figure-eights or infinity symbols. The drawing becomes a very accurate map of the pelvic movement. You come to understand that while the detail of drawing may come from the hand-eye coordination, it is the free movements of the pelvis that give it its underlying orderliness, rhythm, and power.

5) Finally, repeat the original turning movement--how do you do it now?

Try it, you'll like it!