New Earth Wisdom

In my training to become a Feldenkrais® Practitioner, I was eager to not learn, but rather un-learn my habits that had been accumulated by culture and feel completely free of that burden. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy.

In addition to having two babies during my four year training, I was in a relationship with a narcissist. With my co-dependency issues and still being the scapegoat within a family of alcoholics and more extreme abusers, I could not just breeze through this unlearning.

My first mentor was peppy and fun. I really felt the way she worked with me (we always say “with” because the work involves co-regulating). I began to get so excited about life.

Bob was assigned to give me my first FI (Functional Integration) session. (This is the hands on part of the method). I had never worked with anyone else, so I was interested.

Bob came up behind me with a bigger pep in his step than my last mentor. “Hi!” he said brightly behind bushy eyebrows the size of caterpillars and a sheepish grin. Bob moved like he was a teenager but he was about eighty.

I was suddenly off guard. I never knew why until recently: I learned that I was so used to the facade of others, that seeing someone so completely comfortable within themselves was like witnessing a unicorn firsthand. Or, for me, like picking your first four leaf clover (I have yet to find one!).

Bob had lighter touch with delicate precision. My body was used to “more”, so I didn’t notice how his subtleties added depth to the work.

Today, after practicing for a decade, I know exactly why Bob’s precise delicate touch worked. It is how I co-regulate with others to remind them of how to feel- well, like Bob!

Bob came to check in with me the next day about our session. He sat down comfortably and played with my daughter like he was a natural grandfather to her. I felt this connection and was so used to it turning into manipulation. My hyper vigilant self went into full inspection.

I soon found out that Bob was more than he was cracked up to be. This was not noticed by all in our training, but many who sought Bob out and paid extra left with a twinkle in their eye, just like Bob. I realized it may take awhile to get the twinkle back in my eye.

Bob lived in a tiny shack-like cottage with a singular telephone line and no cell phone. He was close with family who would cook for him, since he had no children he spent much time with theirs. He often ate his brother in-law’s homemade brown bread, and Bob would pick at any healthy food that was around. Bob traveled to see friends all along the East Coast in addition to camping in the Spring and he often did some bird watching.

I reached a point in my training where I had missed too many days. Having my son, my second child, was a challenge and I wasn’t sure I could finish the training. I thought back to so many unfinished dreams, and I decided this was going to happen. However, the training needed make up days. This cost money I didn’t have.

My first mentor offered a way for me to pay extensively to remain in the training. I felt the familiar pain of knowing that my parents encouraged me in the beginning but like usual, they didn’t feel I was capable of finishing the training. They were wealthy but money was how they controlled others.

I was working three jobs but the Father of my children couldn’t hold down one. I was paying the electric late with pennies, holding dreams in my heart that I still believed I could attain somehow, some way. But in this moment, I fell apart.

I cried in the bathroom, unable to hold back the tears that were streaming faster than I could stop. A kind friend came in to check on me, and she honestly wanted to comfort me. For a moment, I felt something I never had: true, unconditional support. My tears stopped at this pure gesture of kindness. (By the way, this girl turned into an amazing Practitioner and friend, and was one of the first people who accepted all of me aside from Bob!)

Bob immediately volunteered to help me with my hours when I returned to the larger room where the training was held. I thought I was to pay him something at least, but he wouldn’t have it. He took me under his wing and started with the basics of his brilliant accumulation of unlearning, and develops that into accurate language, functional and healthy movement, and the ability to heal and help.

Now, you may be wondering how someone so wise and wonderful could help someone like me. This answer is: patience.

Or, Bob has so little, why is he working for free? The answer: Heart. A big, gigantic heart.

Bob would sit by while my mind would try to figure out what only I knew. Once I told him of how I took my two children to the store and they ran in opposite directions, breaking things. On the way out, they ran into the street so I dropped the groceries and ran after them. By the time I got them in the car, I was exhausted!

And do you know what Bob said to that? He laughed. He laughed so hard.

My intense brain at first was irritated, thinking he didn’t understand. But within his laugh there was a charm that invited me to find some humor in the chaos. This was, in fact, a wild story!

Bob witnessed the nature of my parents and tried to help me but I was typically lost in tears or frustration, blaming myself or them but not knowing what to do.

Bob caught me off guard by saying, “You may be better off when they’re dead”. (Years later, this was the seed he planted that I can now hear: Stop waiting for people to die to live.)

Bob came over for dinners, picnics, and strolls through the woods. I got to know his family, and hear about his wonderful adventures. I wondered what he dreamed of. Once he told me he dreamed of going to Italy. (To this day, I aspire to make this happen somehow for Bob, for this was years into his help). He also once told me about a beautiful dream: a big pool to swim in and a fridge full of organic produce. Bob was a simple man and it was this simplicity that truly showed “the way”, as in the finger pointing to the moon. This was a man without baggage who hid nothing.

When Lisa, my best friend died, Bob was there. He drew a big picture full of overlapping circles. Then he colored in one of the circles. “When someone leaves”, he said, “it touches every life they have ever met and takes this piece from their world and removes it. It takes time to figure out how to get your shape back”.

Before my wedding, (which Bob blatantly told me he would not speak at! typical Bob, always honest and forthcoming, I love it!), Bob told me that we all come together to support the couple as a community, and that he was part of that community. He then gave me a unique lesson that felt like he was rolling out dough.

Bob’s lessons continued to become more intricate, as he shared personal lessons and exercises he had done with other famous practitioners. What a gift, that I could never have conceived of in the moment. It truly resonates with me today that I was lucky enough to know Bob.

And yes, Bob continued to help me after we finished the hours. Driving far from home, he would sacrifice his time and energy to help me.

Bob moves through his life with wonder and grace, marveling at life instead of hiding from it. Through the way he teaches, one can never be less than inspired. With a twinkle in his eye and ease in his gait, he leaves traces of magic in this world.

Everyone should have a Bob.