by Alan
Questel
I've always been fascinated by falling. Long before discovering the Feldenkrais
Method®, I had dreams that I was falling. You've probably had them
too. The ones where you suddenly wake up with a jolt, just before landing.
Only now and then my dreams took a different course. Occasionally I would
fall and land in my dreams. Sometimes gracefully floating downward, other
times landing with a good thump, but always uninjured. In fact, not only
was I okay, I also experienced a huge perceptual shift as well. The room
I was in was the same room, only it now looked completely different. The
side of the mountain I fell off of, now offered an alternative route to
the top that I hadn't seen before.
Dr. Feldenkrais was also captivated by the idea of falling. In his first
book Body and Mature Behavior, he writes of the " instinctive reaction to
falling," and relates it to " ...the body pattern of anxiety." Feldenkrais
was also one of the first Europeans to get a black belt in Judo and founded
the Judo Club of France. In Judo, as well as other martial arts, falling
is the subject of great interest and practice and is something to be developed.
Whether in our dreams, our feelings or in our actions, falling is representative
of so much of who we are and what we do. Falling in love? falling down?
falling out of favor? falling asleep? fear of falling? falling all over
yourself. Falling can describe so many states that are central to our experience
of ourselves, that without it, we couldn't be who we are.
As children we fall so often that it is impossible to keep count. Our early
falling is the means to our learning to function upright, to be recognized
as "human." Yet at some point, we give up the joy and learning that falling
affords us. Falling becomes more associated with failure than discovery.
Over time, our "ability to fall" atrophies and worse still, becomes something
we fear and avoid.
In the myth of Icarus, Icarus flies from the tower where he is imprisoned,
on wings made of wax and feathers. Forewarned by his father not to fly too
high so the sun won't melt the wings, Icarus continues to soar higher and
higher until his wings melt and he falls to his death. The moral? Don't
fly too high. Be moderate in your strivings. Listen to what your father
tells you. I don't think so. It is really quite simple when you look at
it from a Feldenkrais® perspective (at least mine). Icarus didn't
know how to fall.
The Feldenkrais Method, both directly and indirectly, offers us
the chance to explore the relationship between ourselves, the space around
us, and the ground beneath us. We can develop our relationship with gravity
through new references and create new possibilities for action. Familiarizing
ourselves with falling can enhance our self confidence, creativity, sense
of safety and risk, and provide us with more means to live with greater
freedom.
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