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“If I’ve reached a saturation point
and want to turn over and fall asleep on the floor in
the middle of a lesson, that’s fine. It’s
such a fundamental thing that you should not be uncomfortable,
that you have a right to stop.” —Ann Guenzel,
M.D.
Creating an environment conducive to learning has dimensions
beyond just the serenity of the physical space. It requires
not only the absence of judgmental pressure in both
teacher and student but also the presence of a particular
quality of mind — let’s call it detached
involvement or mindfulness.
Encouraging students to find their own pace is a basic
tenet of this practice. You can’t force change.
Since I want my students to take the time to listen
to what their bodies are telling them, I practice being
responsive myself. My lesson plan changes depending
on what’s up for the people in the room at that
moment. I “backstitch” class content, so
students don’t have to worry about what they’re
missing if they’re out. In guiding students, by
word or touch, I rely on a kind of educated intuition.
Inviting you to try any movement sequence in at least
three different ways is also part of safety. You get
to choose what your body prefers to feel like. Even
with posture, there is no static “right”
answer, like a military stance, but a dynamic model
that adapts to meet life circumstances.
Starting each movement sequence with the practice of
internal scanning is a bedrock foundation stone. Taking
silent time to check where everything is at helps to
undo the mindlessness that turns us into walking habits.
Accidents happen when we’re unawares. Part of
why Feldenkrais works powerfully for people with history
of trauma, both physical and emotional, is the giving
of permission to feel whatever you actually do feel,
without repressing your natural responses.
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