Tuning to the fasciaI am convinced that if we understand the language of fascia, we are closer to the - wordless - language of creation and wellbeing.
It is like listening in to the invisible forces inside a garden or forest. The body functions as a whole, and even if there are problems, generally more goes well than not well. Constantly the body/nature tries to seek overall balance. Left vs. right, gravity vs. upward force, stability and strength vs. flexibility. The fascia pertains to the overal shape, allowing the pathways for all other processes to take place. Dividing the body into purposeful parts, and simultaneously forming the Whole through connecting ‘everything to everything’. Another really fascinating thing to realise is that the body and the fascia/structure of the body has been formed through movement. Through the movement we ourselves make, our bodies form, tendons, bones even. When muscles aren’t moved, the bone and tissues grow weak. The forming of our body structure began the womb and developed during childhood. We can often recognise each other through our movement, a ‘typicality’ in someone’s walk, position, the vibe that emerges from a posture. Some bodies stay similar for many years, other bodies go through tremendous changes. As much as we are conditioned to believe so, the body isn’t a fixated thing, but the energy that permeates it is largely recognisable from person to person. So how the bodies moves finds a reflection in the physicality. A physical movement is also informed by a mental/emotional ‘movement’. This also gets an imprint in the fascia. ‘How we are with ourselves’ (and how we perceive, think and experience) is hence also a part of ‘movement’. When I look at a body, I am constantly scouting that overall structure, and how the balance is trying to be kept. I try to feel into how a body has developed over time, perhaps through and around certain challenges. Most problems that have become visible, are just 'the drop that spills the bucket' of a process that has been going on much longer. It wasn’t that ‘falling of the stairs’ or the ‘lifting of heavy weight’ ; no it was what preceded it… There was a tendency, that was already present in the tissue, and that one event just gave it another nudge. That nugde made it present enough to start paying attention. I feel so lucky to be so often the witness to the mysteries of the body that reveal themselves during a session. By listening carefully, and following the impulses I get. It feels a bit like when I am sculpting (another passion of mine). You take 'away' something in order to get to the core of the shape. I am dancing around the stone in my attention and with my chissel and hammer, releasing, unlocking, revealing the perfect form, that lays, invisibly, hidden on the inside of the stone. Stone seems so hard and inflexible, but for me a stone is full of life. While working it, I start to get an intuition about what my eye cannot see: the rivers of crevices, the groupings of its particles and the variations in density. One wrong hit, and my stone breaks in two. With the stone above, I indeed made one wrong hit. I was applying too much force. The lady has a broken arm. I glued it on again. I sold the piece nevertheless. Its now overlooking the best view of Crete in someone's garden. When an arm or leg was broken or even strained, when big injuries happened, this will to greater or smaller degrees forever be imprinted in the fascia. Just like an elastic band that was stretched so far that it broke; you could tie it back together again, and continue to flex it, but it will never be quite the same. The fascia will reorganize itself to create the best possible support. It will form differently when a person recovers in a stance of survival versus from a state of mind that exudes wellbeing. So....Giving a treatment is very subtle and careful work. I love the complexity of that 'inner web' and tuning to how to unlock the life-juice out of it! It is ‘going in’ with touch, with great direction and precision, while simultaneously being completely non-invasive. When the tissue is approached accurately, by both me and the client itself, it can start to unwind - naturally. |