Brilliant Thoughts
Body Wise
by Ashleigh Brilliant
by Ann Brode
Born London, 1933. Mother Canadian. Father a British civil servant. World War II childhood spent mostly in Toronto and Washington, D.C. Berkeley PhD. in American History, 1964. Living in Santa Barbara since 1973. No children. Best-known for his illustrated epigrams, called “Pot-Shots”, now a series of 10,000. Email ashleigh@west.net or visit www.ashleighbrilliant.com
Ann Brode has been an Aston Patterning practitioner and body-oriented therapist in Santa Barbara for over forty years. A recognized master in her field, Brode writes down-to-earth, compassionate articles on the challenges and rewards of living consciously in the body. She is the author of A Guide to Body Wisdom- What Your Mind Needs to Know About Your Body.
Nobody Knows My Toes
M
ost of us have twenty digits, but the upper ten get nearly all the attention. Once we’ve outgrown the days of “this little piggy goes to market,” the lower ten are usually hidden in some protective footwear, and little account is taken of them – until something goes wrong. The classic case of something going wrong is narrated by Edward Lear in his immortal epic, “The Pobble Who Has No Toes.” This reckless creature, who “had once as many as we,” scoffed at the idea of losing them all, especially since he had his own special safeguard: “His Aunt Jobiska made him drink Lavender water tinged with pink, For she said, ‘The World in general knows There’s nothing so good for a Pobble’s toes.’” I will not sadden you with the tragic details of his loss – but I fear they may cause you to have doubts about the effectiveness of lavender water, tinged or untinged. But while we’re exploring these remarkable protuberances which fringe our feet, it seems worth noting that they are the only parts of the body which can be stubbed – and that it is only the owner of the toe who can do the stubbing. (Now, be honest – you’ve never heard of a person stubbing somebody else’s toe, have you?) But toes do have their legitimate role to play in our culture, particularly in the world of sports, where “toeing the line” is so important at the start of a race that the expression has come to have metaphorical significance, indicating acceptance of the rules – whatever the context – and generally (but not always willingly) conforming to group standards. Sometimes it’s expanded to “toeing the party line” – but be careful not to confuse this party line with the telephonic one – or you might trip over it. Speaking of sports, our toes also have the distinction of being subject to a disorder apparently so common among people athletically inclined that it’s been named in their honor: Athlete’s Foot. They share this questionable type of accolade with aficionados of some other sports, who have given the world Tennis (and Golf) Elbow and Swimmer’s Ear. Lest anyone feel left out of this discussion, I should also mention that, 21 – 28 May 2020
besides those who engage in various sports there are also the victims of certain other occupations and activities, who have expanded the nomenclature of suffering with their own maladies – such as Housemaid’s Knee, Traveler’s Diarrhea, and Writer’s Cramp. (The latter, of course, since writing with a pen is no longer fashionable, has now given pride of place to various computer-related disorders, which however, have failed to give us any name more romantic than “Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.”) But not all such occupational associations need be negative. Have you ever heard of “Lawyer’s Jaw”? – probably not, since I just made it up. But I based the idea on a verse from the poem “You Are Old, Father William,” in Lewis Carroll’s “Alice In Wonderland.” In this dialogue, a young man asks his aged father how he was able to eat some almost unchewable food. “ In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law, And argued each case with my wife; And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw, Has lasted the rest of my life.” But, getting back to our pedal extremities – considering how little they are seen on the stage of daily life, it’s remarkable what an active part they play, so to speak in the wings. It would be hard to invent new expressions as meaningful as “getting a toe-hold” (a term which appears to have derived from wrestling), “keeping on your (own) toes,” or “treading on (someone else’s) toes.” And when it comes to doing something very carefully and quietly, where would we be without the idea of “walking on tip-toe”? Then there are those unfortunate people who for some reason are unable to use their hands, and have to rely on their toes to serve as fingers. You may have heard of Christy Brown, whose autobiography My Left Foot, (which became a film) tells how, despite the extreme handicap of cerebral palsy, he was able to become a celebrated artist. In view of such inspiring stories, I’m sorry to tell you that, in terms of evolution, we appear to be losing our toes, starting with the little one, which, in a few million years, may be gone altogether – and you thought we had nothing in common with the poor Pobble! •MJ
A Moving Inspiration
T
he past few weeks of suspended routines, social isolation, and uncertainty have been tough on us and a challenge for our bodies. Regrouping at home and grappling with the full scope of health and financial considerations is a full-time job with lots of scary variables. Even such basics as shopping for food and pumping gas can feel complicated and threatening. My poet daughter-in-law calls this “the underlying thread of dread.” Moreover, the angst of it all ends up in the body. You feel it as an oppressive presence whenever you need to relax, focus, or find inspiration. So in order to negotiate the emotional upheaval of the COVID quarantine, it’s important to know how to let it go and let it flow. From the body’s point of view, it’s natural to lock down and armor up in response to an unexpected, unprecedented threat. This shows up in varied and personal ways – a clenched jaw, knotted stomach, tight butt, scrunched eyes, and so forth. Knowing where you carry stress establishes a reference point for letting it go. Of course you want to be on guard. But you also want to be resilient, resourceful, and ready. Like weeds in your garden, when uncertainty and worry get a foothold, they need to be found and uprooted. Take a moment right now and feel your body: where are your stress hideouts? Once you locate the tension, you can implement basic body mechanics to loosen its hold and get moving again. Here’s how this works. Find a tense place in your body and move the bones and tissues under and around this area to free up your local muscles and get circulation flowing. For instance, if your jaw is clenched, move it softly and slowly, open and closed, side to side, forward and back. No stretching or pushing; just intentional but easy. Glide your tongue around the surfaces of your teeth. Gently stretch, pout, and pucker your lips. Mobilizing your bones and tissues is a good way to undermine the message of being on guard, anywhere in your body. For your shoulders: lift, rotate, shrug, slide, and shake. For your legs and hips: roll, jiggle, sway, and swing. Remember that moving loosely and fluidly sends a positive message to your brain that all’s well and life is good.
Get Up and Boogie
The best way to counter emotional-mental lockdown is to get your body moving. Get off the couch, turn off the computer and phone and tune in to your body. Whether you dance, get on the treadmill, march around the house, or take a walk outside, the important thing is to get yourself moving. Instead of using your energy to talk, figure, plan, and rehash, use it to be physical. Instead of fretting and feeling stir crazy, shift your attention to the mechanical brilliance of your mobilized body. Develop an easy cadence, swinging your arms and legs to disengage both physical and emotional tension. Not only is this cross-crawl motion relaxing, it balances the brain and brings the body into harmony.
Getting Your Bearings Can Help You Bear It
Once you get the rhythm going, expand your sensory awareness to include the space around you. Hear the remarkable repertoire of a mockingbird, smell the blossoming citrus. Feel how your feet touch the ground. Allow hope to filter through as you observe the miracle of springtime and the greening of our mountains. The truth is, any time events challenge equilibrium, your moving body will help you regain both composure and balance. Like a guided meditation, being centered in your body is a good way to be present in the moment and connect with a larger Truth. Tuning in can give you the comfort of perspective and even be inspiring. For instance, on a recent walk, I had the thought that we’re all witnessing a life-changing moment together. A moment that’s as transformative as seeing the “blue marble” photo of planet Earth in 1972. Like then, we see clearly the beauty and vulnerability of our precious earthly home. Perhaps, on the other side of this worldwide time-out, our global collective consciousness will be different. And as the philosophers presaged, we will know that all are ONE. Then, as one, we will seek and find ways to solve our existential problems. •MJ
• The Voice of the Village •
MONTECITO JOURNAL
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