Unwind your low back
Why I love this lesson
I’ve been clothes shopping recently (not my favorite activity). Tags in certain women’s stores say things like, “Why we love this shirt!” and then they tell a little story about the shirt.
I got sucked into reading these little stories. (Apparently I really want to know why some corporate copywriter loves this shirt.)
Taking that cue, I just did this lesson, and here’s why I love it:
My back used to be hyper-extended all the time. It took me years to figure it out. This lesson helped me get around my pernicious habits and soften. I come back to it for myself again and again, especially when I’m caught up in the world and old habits kick in.
I can feel myself shifting, but only if I start with the idea that the outcome is whatever it is and I don’t have to make anything happen. If I try to control the outcome, I get into my habit and over-contract.
The gentle pelvis rocking helps me feel rooted when I’m sitting. My jaw lets go. I feel present in my face, like I’m not pushing myself outward but just being here. My low back and belly have a sense of roundness, length, and space.
I breathe better. My shoulders sink.
I love the pacing and the simplicity of the instructions, yet the neurological complexity sneaks right in, especially when you’re asked to breathe continuously as you rock your pelvis. Try rocking your pelvis out of sync with your breath!
What are your experiences? Every person is different, depending on your history, self-use, injuries, or this moment of life. Let me know how it goes!
Tip: Try it before bed and give yourself
permission to do much slower, smaller,
more spacious movements.
If you like this lesson, check out these categories in the Feldenkrais Treasury:
Seven Best Series: A flexible low back
Fundamentals: Flexion to prep for rolling
Zoe’s tips and tricks: Free your hips and low back
If you haven’t yet subscribed to theTreasury, find out more about it here.
Quote:
“An act becomes nice when we do nothing but the act. Everything we do over and above that—or short of it—destroys harmony.”
How much muscular work is required, and when does it cross the line into effort?