Movement practices are as individual as our bodies. No two people can replicate a fluid sequence, posture or movement to fall in exactly the same pattern as eachother.
This is why we detest practicing in front of mirrors; firstly, it's not about how it looks, second, sight is a distraction/attraction for the monkey mind and third, we just end up wondering why we're moving so differently to that of the teacher (or rest of the group).
You only need see us running to realise we don't believe in conformity. We really like to test our bodies by throwing in as much diversity of movement as possible. Straight jogging? Just not our thing.
The whole point is we aren't designed to move like anyone else. And it's completely unimportant how it looks. In fact, with movement, the less conventional, the better, because we're then teaching and training our bodies to cope with better range of motion, flexibility and misalignment. It's a movement diet with plenty of variety to ensure we can hold ourselves up and together in wider life situations. Learn to fall, and you'll catch yourself, teach your body a full 360 degree spin, and you'll know how to cope when life seems out of control.
We choose to dedicate a significant portion of our precious time to conscious movement every single day because we want to be able to move in all the ways for the remainder of our lives. And because we understand that to embody the body, is to move through life more consciously. The way we move affects everything.
Some of us are naturally flexible, while others are strong. Movement sessions quickly show us which is true. But if you're smart, fearless of the unknown, and you learn the mechanics of movement through direct experience and sensation, you'll see you can attend any class/practice and tailor it to suit your unique self.
For those of us with natural elasticity, we have to work on our strength, drawing in to centre, activating muscles and pushing/pulling with gravity, to ensure we protect our joints. If you leave your mat/space feeling sore wrists, knees, hips and shoulders, hurting when you walk, feeling a couple of metres taller, it's likely you're hyper mobile and you've poured into your flexibility too much, hurting (or injuring) your precious joints.
For those with natural strength and less flexibility, we need to surrender to gravity, lengthen and allow weightiness to pour into our muscles and bones, trying to soften, rather than activate. Lengthening lunges, untucking toes, pausing in posture can help encourage malleability. Vinyasa are amazing, but throwing the body through sixty in one session isn't so good. Strength is important, but too much can hinder flexibility and cause fascial rigidity.
Think of the body as an elastic band; too much flexibility leads to lack of integrity. Too much tension will lead to tears and snaps. Either outcome is painful. But if you can balance them out, you'll find a sweet spot where you'll increase the flexibility, lessen the tension and gain length and tone.
That isn't to say hyper-flexible bodies should just bear weight and activate, or that stronger bodies should slink in somatics for the rest of their days. We need balance. And we need to learn and listen to what our bodies need in each moment.
Open classes can be tricky, because teachers/instructors tend to lead from their own felt experience. Authenticity comes from sharing our own journeys. But there are some that show a number of tips and tricks teaching us to be inquisitive about our own unique felt sense. They offer options, and it's our job (as students/participants) to really explore what feels right.
It took us a long while to be brave enough to move freeform in rooms full of strangers. We didn't feel confident of ourselves, or embodied enough, to know how to wag our tail, shimmy our hips or fall into breath. But part of the process of embodiment is that we learn our unique body language, and we subsequently become stronger in self, less concerned with others' opinions, or how we look. This is strength; feeling rooted in the uniqueness of self.
And it's graceful to follow instinct, and allow the flow of life (breath) to lead the way, like some form of surrender or throwing it all to the wind. A recognition that our bodies hold all the wisdom, and we're graceful enough to let that knowledge through.
Strength provides structure and foundation, and grace provides fluidity and flexibility.
When one witnesses Cirque Du Soleil or a professional ballet artist, it's apparent they're able to move with strength and grace in equal measure. And that strength protects the flexibility, and vice versa. We used to be obsessed with dance and ballet performances, inspired by the seamless transitions and effortless embodiment. Now, of course, we understand that so many professional ballerinas suffer long-term injury because of over-training and going beyond their natural boundaries, forcing their bodies to push their limitations. The injuries and hip replacements acrobats, yogis and ballerinas suffer remind us that listening, attunement and practicing to our own pace, rhythm and edges, is one of the most important self-care rituals.
So, we encourage you to be inquisitive about any movement and really ask yourself whether you can invite strength and grace into the practice. Sometimes that means reigning it in, rewinding or choosing to modify. And other moments will require letting go, choosing a trickier transition or challenging your mental/physical boundaries.
To move with strength and grace means standing in your own truth, not giving a care for what those around think, do or how they move. But making sure you care enough about (and for) the people and things that matter. Begin with the way you move...and you'll move the world around you.
