Embodied self-awareness is as fundamental to our survival and well-being as breathing and eating; it helps us self-monitor, self-regulate, and respond flexibly and adaptively in the present moment. To maintain our well-being throughout our lives, we must actively cultivate embodied self-awareness.1
People say that what we are all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think that what we’re really seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experience on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our innermost being and reality so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive.2
Holistic systems for bodymind reeducation and personal growth clearly have a place in the frameworks of both education and health care; in fact, they bridge the gap between other systems such as traditional and alternative medicine, psychotherapy, and fitness programs. Through a contemplative and therapeutic practice such as Bodymind Ballwork, you can gain new information and understanding in a direct and personal way about how to relieve pain, improve body mechanics, release held emotions, and increase mental clarity—and have a good time doing it. The in-depth discoveries that await us can connect to all aspects of our lives.
Because our modern culture as yet does not support an ongoing study of bodymind functioning, many of us may find ourselves overwhelmed by our own confusing array of tensions, pains, and stressors. We often don’t know which aspects of ourselves most need to improve in order for our lives to improve. Do we need psychotherapy or physical therapy? Chiropractic or a dance class? Elsa Gindler and those who followed her saw that this quandary could be solved only by a holistic approach that acknowledges the interconnectedness of our emotional, intellectual, sensory, and movement selves.
An apt analogy for this idea of a holistic approach appears in Edward Maisel’s introduction to his collection of the writings of F. M. Alexander, the founder of the Alexander Technique. He compares working with the entire bodymind—instead of one symptom at a time—to cleaning up a messy room in order to find a lost object, rather than looking for the object amid the mess:
The indirect way . . . may take a little longer, but it is more certain, will render further losses less likely, and will have accomplished something useful even if the missing object remains unfound. Also it may happen that something lost long since and which has been forgotten may turn up. It has, too, the further important advantage that one will at last become fully aware of the contents of the room in a way that one had not been before.3
This holistic view of human consciousness brings us back to the koshas—the five layers of being from the yoga tradition. Let’s review the five koshas from chapter 1. The first, the outermost layer, is made up of the physical tissues of the body, the “body of food”; the second one is the “body of breath”; the third one is the mental processes, the “body of thoughts”; the fourth one, the “wisdom body”; and the fifth one, the “body of bliss” (see illustration on page fourteen). This conceptual map identifies human consciousness in different forms. Each layer is more subtle than the one before, yet they are all available to us. As we go through our life journey, we touch on each of these parts of ourselves repeatedly, both in the smallest moments of daily life and in the times of deepest meaning.
In body therapies, we start with the outermost layer because it is the easiest one to access. We all can feel hot and cold, pain and pleasure, hunger and thirst, and the basic movements of daily life. For some, that’s as far as body awareness goes. We’re lucky if we even feel ourselves breathing. Then there are athletes, dancers, actors, and musicians, who develop a more refined awareness of the interaction between body and mind necessary to refine their skills and their performance. But to go even deeper than that, and to discover what’s inside the “room” of our inner being, we need a slow, contemplative technique like Bodymind Ballwork. Through this kind of intentional internal focus, we can develop an authentic connection with our posture and our movement habits, our breath, and how our thoughts and emotions become part of the body’s physical structure. Knowledge arises spontaneously when we are in touch with the body. I like to think of Bodymind Ballwork as a “body meditation.” Just as we might use a mantra or the rhythm of the breath to carry our awareness inside, the balls serve that purpose in this method. Insights arise when we contact a deep part of ourselves. With embodied self-awareness, we have a gateway into more self-understanding, a built-in protection from physical strains, and a greater flexibility in responding to everyday challenges.
Embodied self-awareness might not be attained through a linear learning process; changes and improvements may come slowly sometimes, or with surprising speed at other times. When you least expect it, your bodymind might be ready for positive change. Whereas some bodymind techniques require that students discontinue their poor movement habits before better patterns are attempted in a set sequence, Bodymind Ballwork allows for a high degree of individual autonomy and a fluid process in moving from old habits to new ones. There is no set sequence of techniques; each practitioner discovers what works best for him or her. The new sensations made possible by the balls give the practitioner a chance to renew and refresh body awareness moment by moment, and to replace old patterns with new and more healthy patterns little by little, one practice at a time. We work from an investigative frame of mind, staying in the present moment to feel the body and respond to the pressure of the ball.
What we learn, from connecting with ongoing sensations inside the body and simple movement, is kinesthetic literacy, a knowledge of our particular movement style and capacity. As our kinesthetic sense becomes more refined, we move more intelligently, and we also see that physical sensations begin to evoke new patterns of thought. Whereas we may have reacted to the pain of a strained muscle with feelings of frustration and fear, we now can listen to what the body is asking for. We can quiet the mind’s usual chatter, and stay with sensations that are happening right now, rather than the memory or fear of pain from the past. And when the ballwork feels good, that pleasure is entrancing and restorative at a very deep level.
One student said, “It’s about doing away with the self-destructive devil that lives within all of us. . . . The more you do it, the more aware you become, like peeling away layer after layer of debris, and really finding more and more understanding, awareness, and inner knowledge. Not assumed knowledge, but the innate knowledge.”
I envision this kind of exploration and self-study becoming an integral part of education at every level, with playful opportunities for children to develop kinesthetic literacy and pleasure from embodied self-awareness. Research shows that children learn best with an element of active physical participation—less sitting at desks, more moving through the learning process. This work gives familiar rubber balls a whole new realm of meaning as an interactive tool for growth.
Bodymind techniques are already vital components of dance and drama training, helping performers to develop their expressive range through embodied self-awareness. Actors develop refinements that allow their whole bodies to express their role more fully. Dancers need this kind of work to avert injuries or recover from them, and to counteract the repetitive movements inherent in hours and hours of rehearsal. But beyond the healing aspect of the work, Bodymind Ballwork will enable a higher level of authentic physical expression for any performer. Mark, a dancer who works daily with the balls, says that in his embodied state, his body is totally integrated, and dancing is effortless, fluid, and ecstatic.
In psychotherapy, and particularly trauma recovery, balls can provide a safe companion in the work of processing emotional experiences that are held in the tissues. You can explore at your own pace, in private or with a teacher, and gradually build a meaningful connection to your body as a source of deep knowledge and support.
In my experience, this work is most meaningful to those who can suspend their judgments of their body enough to experiment and play, to trust that the body has wisdom to impart. Kinesthetic literacy doesn’t come from studying anatomy (although that study can be empowering as well); it is learned by doing, by moving. As Gindler said, “To know is not enough. You must do it.”4
As you practice, I encourage you to remember the basic principles:
- Develop awareness without judgment. Give yourself the gift of attention to your inner sensations without rushing to judgment, solutions, or analysis.
- Release into gravity. Let the floor and the balls fully support you. Letting go is a skill worth practicing. Allow the pressure of the balls to elicit relaxation as you drape yourself over them.
- Move slowly with minimal effort. You will feel more subtlety if you move slowly, and your soft tissues will have the time they need to respond to the ball’s pressure.
- Explore your range. Try different directions of movement, knowing that support from the ball could open up new possibilities, new freedom.
The process is simple, the tools are simple, but the rewards are profound. Becoming more in touch with yourself physically and emotionally is the most worthwhile self-care there is. You will feel better, move better, think more clearly, and be more available and resilient in your work and your relationships. You may find that you naturally make better choices that support your own health, because your mind and the body are authentically connected. The process of healing and inner growth is ongoing, and it is a fascinating, ever-new adventure. I invite you to use this book as your guide, develop your inner resources, and build your own well-being from the inside out.