Backwards, to Bounce

My sneakers are light and cushion my steps. They give me spring even when I'm feeling fatigue. Unfortunately, I get a little lost in them. I get soft in them..
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Our bodies are made to pump on their own: to stretch, suspend, relax and come down, again. We have certain curves that are excellent at this: our cervical curve (the neck), our lumbar curve (the lower back) and the curve of our legs -- the reason why dance teachers harp on about unlocking the knees. The diaphragm is a horizonal curve. It curves up and down and keeps our lungs pumping. We think about the diaphragm a lot in yoga, because it can give us insight into how to connect everything.
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But, there's another curve that often goes unnoticed: the arch of the feet.

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I had a teacher, named Regine, who once told me to feel the bottom of my feet, just before the pads of the heel, where the arch starts. She called this area 'the heart' of the feet, even though it's not in the middle. It's the spot where pressure comes down through the legs and goes either forward, through the toes, or back, through the heels. And, that spot, it turns out, can be far more active than we think. It can act like very subtle pump.

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In other words, our heels don't just stand there. When our toes reach out, they're reaching back. Or, to put it in the most dramatic way, our feet have the dynamics of the claws of birds of prey.

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Standing Exercise #1

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1) Stand barefoot on a pleasant, firm surface. Knees unlocked and head floating, happy and round as a helium balloon.

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2) Imagine that you're wearing skis. The skis go in both directions until out of sight. Give special attention to the back half of the skis. We spend our lives looking down and into mirrors and already have a pretty good sense of 'front.' (We often have a good sense of other people's butts. But that's where our sense of 'back' usually ends.)

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3) Feel how this image -- skis going out, forward and back -- gives a sense of direction to your feet and, thus, reinvigorates them. When a part of the body snaps out of it after it has been half-asleep, other parts can finally relax. Can you feel where you relax -- where your weight falls better -- somewhere else?

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4) Imagine that spot towards the beginning of the arch of your feet, towards the heel -- the heart. Imagine it letting go of tension and opening up. Don't force anything. Just imagine and invite. Do you feel the pressure from your body going more clearly in different directions? Do you feel your arches becoming light? If you normally stand with your weight back on your heels, do you feel your body moving slightly forward, realigning itself? Is your weight more evenly displaced? When you breathe, do you feel a slight pumping effect in your feet?

Don't Wanna Cramp Your Style

When my mom got home, she'd kick off her shoes. Following in her steps, I would, too. She was my reminder that bare feet feel great.

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Of course, in a world of chemicals, rocks, broken glass and rusty nails, shoes make sense. Flip-flops make sense, too. They're comfortable and cool and usually protect us enough -- a happy compromise. But, though they're flat and look relaxed, watch someone walk in them and you can see that they're not totally unlike high heels: both of them substantially change the way we naturally walk.

According to my anatomy book, there are 26 bones, 31 joints and 20 muscles in every foot. It's a complex design made for high demands, in strength and subtility. Feet carry our weight (and more), cushion our steps, adjust to the floor and roll us, not just forward, but also backwards and sideways, at many an angle.

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Dancers spend hours massaging, pointing and flexing their feet. They draw circles, inwards and outwards, to ease up their ankles, where foot and force of the leg meet. And, when this is done, some dancers slip their flip-flops back on and shuffle off, as flat-footed and stiff-ankled as a geisha.

Next time you see someone in flip-flops, stop and listen. It's rare that they go flip and, then, flop. They would if, like normal, we rolled through our feet. But, instead, we tend to carry and place them down carefully, so that the sound is minimized. In other words, we consciously carry the very things that are supposed to support us. (With high heels, we stabilize the things that are supposed to support us.) It defies a certain structural logic. It seems like self-sabotage.

Now, I'm not very interested in fashion. I just like variety and the fact that people can change. But, I also like continuity. I like that we can do our thing -- dance, yoga, qigong or tai-chi -- and, then, continue exploring when we pack up and leave. Because we can't be schizophrenic about deep change.

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Luckily, we can't be too earnest, either. Awareness of difference is a major part of exploring movement. Differences can clarify each other -- and the whole. So, if you've bought Birkenstocks and feel like you're losing your soul, throw back on something unreasonable, at least, once in while. It has to do you good, somewhere. And, if you remain curious, that's a good-enough place to start.

Walking Is Child's Play

I became a much better dancer when I stopped trying to dance and just started doing stuff.

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Bend knees. Feel what that's like. Place palm of left hand on the floor. Feel the floor. Swivel and place buttocks on floor. Feel the floor.

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Thinking about dance and what we expect from it -- fluidity, strength, expression... -- clutters the mind and keeps us from being effective. It cuts us off from the sensations we need to set up truly interesting situations. Situations in which things happen almost by themselves. That is when quality comes in.

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Walking Exercise #1

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1) Revisit the exercises from last week.

2) Stand up, barefoot, with feet close together but not touching, knees unlocked. You'll probably feel that your legs are closer together than normal. You might feel that you've given up a secure, wide stance for something a bit wobbly. That's good! 'Wobbly' means that you're ready to take off in many directions.

3) Visualize a vertical line running up and down the middle of your body, through your head and torso. It continues upwards, from the top of your head, and downwards, from in between your sit bones. Remember that your legs are not necessarily implicated in this imaginary line.

Reach down and feel the point of your sit bones with your hands. Lift one heel so that only the balls of the foot and toes touch the ground. Do the other side. Notice that the movement doesn't significantly change the direction in which your sit bones point. (While exploring this, keep looking towards the horizon. Moving your legs shouldn't alter the direction in which the top of your head points, either.)

4) Imagine a string attached to each knee that goes out over the feet, pretty much between the second and third toes. There's a gentle, gentle tension on that string. With knees directed out over the middle of your feet and a modest stance, your body weight can fall evenly on all parts of the foot. You're neither pressing outwards nor caving inwards. All is sollicited and active.

Imagine that you're standing in soft clay and that, as you sink slowly down, clay is pressed out, in every direction. Don't make an effort to push downwards; your weight does the pressing, on its own. Keep in mind the line going through your head and torso and the two strings directing your knees. Add to that the perception of the volume of your feet that comes from the clay oozing out. Feel how your weight falls differently when you have a sense of volume.

5) Lean forward slightly and imagine someone pulling on one of those strings, just enough to set you walking. Each step is initiated by one string or the other. Don't try to do it at a slow pace; let the momentum of your body in motion carry you forward. Give yourself enough space to cut loose. Be like a baby taking his first steps, both in and out of control.

How long before you revert back to your usual way of organizing yourself? Ask yourself why you reverted back to it and if it was really necessary. Test it, again and again. See if you can feel places -- in your hips or back -- that roll more than usual. Can you develop a taste for the wobbliness of it all?

Be a fanatic. Experiment, all day long. Start on sidewalks and, when you're relatively in control, move on into supermarkets and restaurants.

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But, don't feel silly, gangly or punk. What might seem to be a lack of composure, from the inside, will appear as 'animal' sleekness, from the outside.

Less Blah Blah, More Grope!

Last week, we felt up our legs to find where they start. Now, it's time to get even more intimate with our skeleton.

Reach down and feel yourself between your hamstrings and your butt. There, you'll find two pointy bits called the 'sit bones.' Locate them, massage the sinewy connections around them, feel where the bones are and where they are not. Sit on a hard surface and feel, if you can, the weight of your upper body settling down onto them.

Having a feel for sit bones without some sort of outside contact doesn't come quickly. Luckily, an understanding of their placement and direction can already be of great help. We can imagine them down there. And, though imagination can cut us off from reality, it can also help us connect with it in new ways. Imagine, but be open to new sensations.

Leg and Hip Exercise #1

1) Lie on your back, with your feet flat on the floor, knees pointing up. With each breath, feel your feet settling onto the floor, more. Continue the process by concentrating on the hip area, then the shoulder blades and head.

2) Imagine a line running through your body. It goes out beyond your head, in one direction, and beyond your sit bones, in the other. Notice where your legs articulate in the the hip socket and that they are not part of this line. In a way, we can say that our head and torso are living one story and our legs, another.

3) Now, imagine that your knees are suspended by strings, that your upper and lower legs merely hang downwards. Notice that, by moving your knees slightly towards each other, you can relax the muscles on the the outside of the legs. Feel how, on the inside, between thigh bone and pubis, you can also relax. Imagine two little streams running, there, that gently erode tension and open up space. Forget about muscles and get the sensation of bones. Bones give the underlying logic to our efforts.

This is one of the 'nothing to it' exercises that changes everything. By clarifying directions, we can release unnecessary tension. That, in turn, allows the body to reorganize itself more efficiently. Lying down with legs bent, knees pointing up, becomes almost effortless; and that little bit of effort gives the body a big chance to breathe.

Lying down like that or standing up, we tend to push outwards with our legs. We think of the sturdiness of a wide stance -- football players, sumos, wrestlers and cowboys might come to mind. But, that sturdiness is often born purely out of muscular force and not out of skeletal logic. Skeletal logic requires a play between outside and in. It permits sturdiness and mobility. (And, while, from the outside, it may not appear as tough, it's free in a way that is sexy enough.)

[Next week: Walking Exercise #1]