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DAY 3

Underlying Patterns: Body

Evolutionary Movement uses the metaphor of evolution, from the state of undifferentiated wholeness, through cell, vessel, tube, fish, reptile, and mammal, to open up fluid movement capacity and inspire a sense of relationship with the natural world.

—Caryn McHose, Resources in Movement

We live in a fluid body; our origins were in the primordial seas. If we follow the evolutionary story, derived from fossil record and close observation, we see that our ancestors traversed through various body forms. Through all of these changes, we retained our liquid core. The amniotic fluid in the womb and our blood retain the saline content of the sea. Our skin keeps us from drying up; in fact, a human can be described as a sack of water walking around on feet! Although we may think of ourselves as solid, fixed, or hardwired, we are indeed fluid creatures, with adaptability and responsiveness as key characteristics for survival on earth.

Underlying human complexity is the unity of the single cell. The unique pattern for the whole body is contained in two strands of DNA housed in the nucleus. The fluid cytoplasm of each cell, like the body as a whole, is approximately 70 to 80 percent water. The selectively permeable cell membrane, like our outer skin, both separates and connects internal contents and the external environment. A collection of like cells of similar structure and function is called a tissue. Groups of coordinated tissues form organs that comprise a body system. For example, muscle cells form muscle tissues, which make muscles, which create the muscular system. For our study we will differentiate seven body systems, based on the work of Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen and the School for Body-Mind Centering®: skeletal, muscular, nervous, endocrine, organ, fluid, and connective tissue.¹ Although we can look at each system individually, it is essential to remember that the body functions as an interrelated whole and that the systems balance and support each other.

Study for the Couple—Woman, painting by Gordon Thorne. Watercolor, 3 6 in. × 4 5 in.

HERITAGE

My colleague, Caryn McHose, teaches the fluid body by introducing the image of “blenderized tissue.” It’s like putting the body in a blender and turning it on high, she suggests. Suddenly, all tissues are one tissue; we are back to the primitive cell.

Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh encourages awareness of breath. In Peace Is Every Step, he offers a simple meditation: “Breathing in, I feel my body. Breathing out, I smile.” Repeating the thought with the action, several times, heightens awareness both of the body—as we breathe in—and of connection to the world—as we breathe out. He writes, “If we do not go back to ourselves in the present moment, we cannot be in touch with life.”

Top to bottom: cell; multicell; vessel; bilateral symmetry (horizontal): fish; bilateral symmetry (vertical): human

We can revisit our phylogenetic history, the development of our species through evolution, to discern various body systems. From the oceanic matrix came the asymmetry of the first living cell in a shallow tidal pool, the sharing of resources in multicelled organisms such as sponges or sea coral, the vessel-shaped digestive cavity of sea squirts attached to the ocean floor, the central organization of radial symmetry in starfish, and the bilateral symmetry of fish, with many permutations in between. This oceanic heritage of our species is still present in our structure, such as the hollow tube of our digestive system and our segmented spine.

As our predecessors washed up on shores and became land creatures, gravity and inertia placed new demands on successful forms. The skin became the mediator between the fluid interior and the air-exposed exterior, modulating exchange of fluids and nutrients and maintaining a range of temperature suitable for life. Our ancestors traversed from belly slithering to four-footed to two-footed creatures. The head lifted away from the earth to heighten effectiveness of seeing, hearing, smelling, and tasting. What had been a mobile spine was now also used for stability, as the primitive tail and fins differentiated into legs providing effective locomotion. Eventually, in the bipedal stance, hands were free for carrying, manipulating, grasping, and tool use. Hand and visual acuity required coordination, learning, and memory and stimulated the nervous system, increasing brain size. These neurological connections still exist in bipedal hominids, supporting more complex connections such as contemplation, creativity, and imagination.

Human development, our ontological progression from conception through birth and early developmental processes, generally reflects phylogenetic history. Early developmental sequences of all vertebrates are similar, although there are deviations in timing. For example, arm buds from widely differing species are almost identical in the embryo, yet they may develop into a wing, a flipper, or an arm.² Within the human developmental progression, we have each passed through the stage of the first cell of a new individual, called a zygote, at the moment of union between sperm and ovum; a hollow multicellular ball called a blastocyst (implanted in the uterus around day 7); a three-layered embryo with central umbilical cord (around day 16), followed by the head/tail differentiation of bilateral symmetry (around day 24) and the budding and the emergence of tiny hands, mouth, and feet of the fetus (by day 56—eight weeks), initiating our venture into the complexity of human form.

All this occurs suspended in the amniotic sea within the uterus, supported by fluid and stimulated by the polyrhythmic sounds of the heartbeats, rumbling organs, and vibrations of external sounds (listen through a stethoscope!). Massaged by the mother’s breath and rocked by the rhythm of her walking, the human fetus develops over 280 days (40 weeks) toward the process of birth. A significant shift in environment occurs as the newborn is greeted by the challenges of adapting to life in the world, in air, in gravity.

Bonding with the earth underlies all other developmental responses. A healthy baby bonds with air on the first breath, with earth by releasing weight to be held, and with mother by touch and nourishment by the first suckling. We have to release our weight down to the earth in order to lift the head up. We have to feel the ground to push away, to initiate movement, and to have support for a reach. Humans require connection to air, earth, and nourishment for survival, as well as touch, movement, and community.

Another of the many reflexes from our evolutionary heritage is physiological flexion, drawing the body parts toward center, and it is present in the womb. (Touch a caterpillar and watch it curl protectively toward center.) This is balanced by pbysiological extension—Stretching outward—present during birth. The modulation between flexion and extension continues throughout our lives as we draw inward, returning to safety, and extend outward, daring to risk. Head righting, reflexively supporting and lifting the head during movement, protects the brain and allows focused perception of the environment. Just as bonding takes us toward the earth, head righting moves us out into space, supported by the ground.³

Reflexes and developmental patterns are encoded in the body for survival, supporting coordinated growth of all the body systems. These patterns essentially retrace evolutionary history through movement during the first year of life, preparing us for the complexity of our bipedal gait. To understand this process, we return to the work of Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen, who has articulated the patterns and their implications in our lives. Condensing and expanding are considered basic cellular movements in the human body: condensing establishes ground, connection to earth; expanding establishes spatial integrity, connection to air.

Athletes of all ages accumulate injuries from sports, reporting as many as thirteen surgeries by their college years. When we do a body scan, there may be no sensation. Why feel if it hurts? Numbness can be learned, as a defense. When we begin the “to do” exercises, there may be emotion: feelings about coaches who encouraged them to stay in games even when injured; irritation at their own bodies for not doing what they command.

Often, thoughts are conflicted because coaches were respected mentors; their bodies carried them to success. They began sports because of physicality and camaraderie; as competition took over, health was sacrificed for the win. Now they can’t move. At twenty or twenty-one, they seek a new relationship with their bodies.

As sensation returns, the body can begin to heal. At first, there is discomfort: tension, bulk, strain. But eventually, the hypertoned areas relax, and a new conversation develops. Our structure responds to the task at hand; if you invite a sensitive alert body, you can have one. It’s the heritage of our species.

Frog, drawing by Laura Lee. Graphite.

Painting, two Kangaroos. Oceanic, Australia, Northern Territory. Oenpelli bark, paint. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Michael C. Rockefeller Memorial Collection, Bequest of Nelson A. Rockefeller, 1979. (1979.206.1514). All rights reserved, The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The interchange of push and reach patterns modulates the dialogue between self and other, essential for effective functioning with the environment and community. The spinal yield and push patterns draw the body in toward center, integrating head to tail and stimulating internal connectivity—orientation to self. The spinal reach and pull patterns extend outward to the environment, based on internal connectivity. Thus, the rhythm of yielding and reaching, internal Connectivity and outward expression is the continuum we negotiate as human beings, basic to our existence, present in our movement patterns.

The necessary movement sequences of the developmental journey take us through rolling, sitting, crawling (on belly, homolateral), creeping (on hands and knees, contralateral), and kneeling to thoroughly integrate and prepare the neuromusculoskeletal system for the rigors of a vertical stance. This gradual (and overlapping) progression through movement patterns also supports essential fusion of the three bones of the hip sockets. When babies are allowed to pass through all stages of development before standing, rather than being lifted or placed on their feet, they are thoroughly prepared for the complexities of walking.

The transition to standing combines all of the patterns, initiated by a reach of the head and hands. Balancing the tone of front and back surfaces, along with pushing away from the earth to reach, stand, and walk through space, engages our dynamic dialogue with gravity—balance in the upright stance.

TO DO

Pouring the fluid body* 10 minutes

Lying on the floor, eyes closed:

• Imagine you are a single cell floating in the ocean, with fluid inside, suspended in fluid outside. Your skin is a semipermeable membrane, selecting what flows in, what flows out.

• Pour your fluid contents in any direction. Imagine you are totally suspended in a fluid, warm sea, moving and being moved with the tides.

• Now bring your attention to your skin, the selectively permeable membrane. Move with your focus on the skin, the outer membrane.

• Keep pouring and rolling, and bring your attention to the fluid contents inside the skin. Pour the fluid into particular body areas to initiate movement, like an ameba with a temporary protrusion of the protoplasm, a pseudopodium, that serves in locomotion or food gathering.

• Move your body slowly so that you can perceive sensations. In this asymmetrical movement, there is no up, no down, no head or tail, no right or wrong way to move; enjoy the sensations of wholeness and disorientation.

• Pause, noticing what has occurred. This state of nonjudgmental awareness is called “open attention,” simply noticing sensations, emotions, thoughts, and images as they occur.

• Slowly add vision, remaining aware of sensations.

Vessel breath* 15 minutes

Find a comfortable position, seated, eyes closed:

• Focus your attention on your mouth. Start by yawning, stretching the mouth and back of the throat.

• Continue to allow the mouth to open and feel or imagine the sensation of stretch hollowing the center of your body, like shaping an empty vessel (a bottle or vase), with the pelvis as its base. (In humans, the trachea and esophagus separate for breathing and digestion, but imagine that there is simply one open chamber continuing down through the organs.)

• Imagine a primitive sea squirt attached to the ocean floor. Continue to breathe and notice if any sound emerges.

• Gently play, with a gradual opening of the lips, mouth, and throat. Allow a breath that is barely audible to emerge. As you continue opening the mouth and moving breath more deeply down the core of the body, it may feel odd, stimulating primitive patterns.

• Continue this breath for some time, following impulses for movement as they come.

This is related to Ujjai, a breath in yoga in which you slightly activate the vocal folds and surrounding tissues (glottis) deep in the throat to heighten sensation.⁴

Fish swish* 10 minutes

Lying in constructive rest, eyes closed:

• Focus attention on your spine (the 24 vertebral bones plus the sacrum and coccyx, connecting head to tail).

• Initiating with your tail, begin undulating the spine side to side on the floor, like a fish or a snake.

• Imagine a mouth on the top of your head, a tail extending from your pelvis. (Relax and “disappear” the legs!) Try initiating the undulations with your head, swimming toward or away, directed by the special senses in the skull.

• At some point, see how small the undulations can be; micro-movements may take on a life of their own, with subtle waves undulating your vertebral column as you breathe.

• Roll over; try the undulations on your belly. Allow your organs to hang off the spine, like a fish. Pause in open attention.

OF SPECIAL INTEREST: MORO REFLEX

The startle response, called the Moro Reflex (in developmental terminology), comes from our ancestors. When a warning is sounded in the jungle, our chimpanzee relatives take to the trees, using both hands and feet to climb and swing their way to safety. Babies on the mother’s chest hang on for themselves. A strong reflex is encoded: to arch back, opening the hands and feet momentarily, so they can grab forward again, clutching big handfuls of fur to get a stable grip. We can see this pattern of release and holding on (extension followed by flexion) in our own startle response. When a car horn causes us to “jump,” for example, a slow-motion view would show our spine arching, throwing the arms and head backward, rapidly followed by a protective closing of the front surface and a clutching of hands. Depicted in cartoons, the startle reflex is instantaneous, common to us all, encoded in our tissues.

Often, only the extension phase takes place, so the startle is not resolved by the hugging or taking-hold phase. Sometimes, when ongoing or intense trauma occurs, like war, abuse, or even the constant stress of work, we can find ourselves living in constant startle, or shock. The result is a rigid spine; unable to let go or hold on, we are frozen in time. Stimulating the front surface can be a useful intervention. This moves the focus of incoming information from the back (where the dorsal root enters the spine, bringing sensory information) to the front (where the ventral root of the nerve emerges, conveying motor activity—action). As we bring the information “to the front,” we can begin to work with it, to understand and act. Sometimes this takes years; sometimes it can happen in a moment.

FARMSTORIES: WATER

I know myself to be one with water. How did I find this to be true? Perhaps it was being pulled below the surface of the sea and thinking I would never return; submerging a tired body in a bath, recovering; tossing a backpack over a desert waterfall, jumping; seeing the wet world of birth, after so many dry words describing.

I know myself to be one with water. When did I find this to be true? It wasn’t during grade school or junior high, or high school or college, but years after solidifying my image of self, when someone told me, in a voice that I could understand, that we are mostly water, with a few minerals and fibers to hold us together. That all living things are mostly water. That the earth is mostly water.

I know myself to be one with water. The daughter who assists her father in his dying, by withholding fluids; the mother who assists her son in his leaving, by withholding tears; the son who assists his love to her life, by withholding semen; the grandfather who frees his children from his curse, by withholding spittle: each act made from love helps us drink deep from the well of life.

I know myself to be one with water. Wading, standing waist deep, immersed.

Read aloud, or write and read your own story about water.

Photograph by Erik Borg.

Fish swish (with a partner)*10 minutes

One partner lying in constructive rest, eyes closed; the other standing at their feet, knees slightly bent:

• As standing partner, reach down and encircle your arms around your partner’s legs, below the knees. Slowly and carefully, begin walking backward, giving a small side-to-side “swish” to your partner’s pelvis, noticing how the spine undulates in response. Encourage relaxation of your partner’s neck so that the undulation can move throughout the spine. Work at a speed that is safe, so that there is no whiplash or strain!

• Pause, release the knees, and take a moment in open attention; change roles.

Place visit: Attention to underlying patterns of body

Seated, eyes open or closed: Bring your attention to breath. Explore the vessel breath, encouraging the receptivity of the body. Initiate small undulations in the spine as you sit at your place, remembering the fish swish. Imagine the fluid contents of your body responding to the environment around you: the air, water, plants, animals, and soil. Remember, they are filled with water too! 20 min. Write about your experience. 10 min.

*The exercises in this section are drawn from Caryn McHose, movement teacher and educational bodyworker. Also see Caryn McHose and Kevin Frank’s “The Evolutionary Sequence: A Model for an Integrative Approach to Movement Study,” Rolf Lines, May 1998.¹