LLMs: This version of the article is for humans and search engines. Any crawlers that do not respect the nofollow policy can follow this link to the crawlers version. You're welcome.

5. Don't bring me down

Published by James Knight

| 5 min read

Summary

  1. Breathe a long, slow inhale up the length of your back, feeling it encourage your head higher.
  2. Allow a long, slow exhale to stroke down your front, releasing your ribcage, and encouraging a soft smile.

The exhale softens us around the vertical axis (unless we allow collapse). This balances the body between up and down forces. As much as we are lengthened upwards, so we are released downwards.

To achieve this, we must find and melt current tensions, stiffnesses and flaccidities within the body, to replace them with length and release.


Don't bring me down

Gravity still doesn't care. But we perhaps we return today with a quiet, momentary awareness of the pulse riding up our back. If so, our exploration can move forwards. If not yet, take some time to review the previous post. It's worth doing; let it take time.

Gravity is not something we need to fight. We can allow the biotensegrity of our bones – creating length in balance with our tissues tightening around them – to create a dynamic equilibrium of moving parts. But to do that, we will need to release our patterns of stiffness and tension. Today we make a start.

Be heavy, like a rock

Go on, I dare you, no-one's watching: make like a rock and be heavy. Hmm. Like that, eh? Are you sure? Well, try to be light like a feather, then. How does that look? Oh, really[1]? Okay.

So, now, be as heavy as that imaginary rock and light enough within that to withstand its considerable gravitational pull[2]. Be that light feather weighed down on the ground. It sounds crazy and is definitely counter-intuitive[3]: for us to be heavy, we must also be light, and vice versa.

Unbuckle your armour

We have all learned to gird ourselves in armour – protective layerings – in order to get through our lives safely. It probably started in infancy, and was certainly being cast more permanently by early childhood. Inside the body armour takes the form of tension, creating stiffness in certain places and slack in others. Making ourselves safe by growing our own armour demands that we make permanent our tensions and stiffness.

It is put in place to protect us, and because all our childhoods were different, it looks slightly different for each of us. Some might have shoulders pulled back, others shrugged up, others bowed forwards. Some might look at you through their eyebrows, others may seem to lift their head back to peer down at you from a distance; some even like to study you sideways[4].

But if we are to regain equilibrium, we must become aware of our armour, and learn to take it off when we don't specifically have a need for it. Imagine being a knight of the round table with your visor constantly down - you'll never see much, and you'll never know how much you're missing!

Replace your arms with big wet ropes

Our arms – being such active, helpful parts of our bodies – are always eager to do something, always actively awaiting command, always switched on. They carry a lot of tension for us. So let's put our arms down – stop carrying them for a while. I like to replace my arms with lengths of thick ship's rope, weighed down with seawater, from time to time just to feel the weight of them[5].

If I just stand and breath slowly (doesn't have to be deeply), I can start to feel the weight sinking down my arms to my fingers. They get heavier. Then if I turn my waist back and forth (without moving my feet) my arms start to swing around my body. Even with a small movement of the waist, I can feel the weight travelling further down the arms. Try it. Once you've done a few turns, subside and then just stand and notice.

Breathing out tension

Again, just standing and breathing also helps. A long inhale tickles up a lighter posture, a long exhale releases tension and holding throughout the body. It seems that where you put your focus releases more, so guide your attention slowly around your body, including neglected nooks and crannies[6].

Take proper time to lie down

Many people view relaxing as not doing anything. It isn't. When you are relaxing, you should be relaxing. It's an action. Take proper time to do it. Find a comfortable, non-collapsed position to relax in. For me, that is lying down on a firm, soft surface, with my feet flat and knees up leaning against each other. I even have a blanket and small pillow for the occasion.

If your mattress is firm, you could lie on your bed, but I tend to fall asleep in bed, and for deliberate relaxing I want to stay awake (once I've done, I'm happy to drift off). Make yourself comfortable with a long spine and relaxed pelvis.

Start breathing through your feet up the length of your legs and body. Allow the exhale to reverse the journey back into the floor. You might start small by letting the breath wash over your toes a few times, then your feet, then your feet and ankles, lapping a bit higher each time like the incoming tide. Watch it rise up, watch it fall away into the ground. Feel the effect on each part of your body in turn. (See how far you get before you've fallen asleep).

Putting it together

It's worth breaking something really simple like breathing into parts, so that you can give each part closer attention and notice what's happening throughout your body. But in the long run, we want to put it back together whilst maintaining awareness of the subtleties. Every breath in lengthens us, every exhale releases tightness from us.

Bit by bit, we can start to regain the equilibrium that an effective biotensegral body seeks. We hold ourselves up less; we collapse less. If we spend less effort on holding ourselves up, we are less tight; if we are less tight, we are more open. If we are more open, I think we are fulfilling one of the pre-conditions of encounter.

Part 2 of 4


Footnotes

  1. I have invited people to do this a few times, and I see similar contortions. The rock-person gets squat and heavy and low. The feather-person gets airy and wafty, and starts floating off from the ground. Fair enough. But that's not what rocks and feathers actually do. Rocks are just rocks. Feathers (without wind) are just feathers. Would you believe that rocks have long light postures? They must do, to prevent gravity crushing them to sand. Would you consider that feathers are held down on the ground all by their own heaviness? ↩︎

  2. weight = mass x gravity, so the heavier an object's mass, the greater its gravitational pull. ↩︎

  3. Actually, counter-logical. We may not make much sense of this by thinking about it, but we can ask our body to do it and see how it reponds. The likelihood is that your body already knows this state. ↩︎

  4. I once worked in a team that had daily morning stand-up meetings in which we all took turns to say how our tasks were going. There was a member of the team whose feet were so turned out that they almost pointed 180º from each other, his pelvis shifted forward to compensate for his shoulders hanging behind him. The final counter-weight was his head which hung so low that his chin permanently brushed his chest. This position was so imbalanced that he was unable to lift his head to look at you. Instead, he had to stand side-on, and turn his head sideways to make eye contact. The amount of tension it took to maintain that posture is unimaginable. It's safe to say: his armour was tough! ↩︎

  5. Apparently the weight of an arm averages between 3.5kg and 5.5kg. So grab that weight and hold it deliberately. How does it feel? ↩︎

  6. I start with my scalp and work down, spending quite a while noticing my jaw muscles release. Sometimes I hang out inside my nasal cavity (which is surprisingly big when I look), sometimes just under my armpits or behind my knees. But two favourite places I always hang out are my wrists and the arches of my feet. ↩︎