Volume 4, Number 12, January 2006

 

Quote From Moshe: “Try to imagine something sudden, important, or dangerous happening on your right side and simulate the movement of your head in such an occurrence.  You will realize that your left side is freed from weight carrying so that you can, or actually turn your body to the right.”  The Elusive Obvious,  p. 103

 

 

A Pain-Free Life

 

In the latest issue of The Feldenkrais Journal a practitioner gives her account of her recent experience with childbirth.  There were many interesting parts of that article, but what interested me most was a statement she made about the unexpected effects the Method had on her life.  She remarks that, thanks to the Method, she lives a life which is mostly pain-free; but in her childbearing, she had to be able to function through an enormous amount of pain.  She made the comment that perhaps living a pain-free life had its drawbacks.

            Feldenkrais practitioners are seen by most people as pain-therapists.  We’re lumped in with other “healing” modalities because our work can reduce people’s pain.  In fact, some practitioners of this method may be under the impression that this is the primary focus of the work, or perhaps have decided to make it the primary focus, whether for humanitarian reasons or financial.

            But our founder does not serve as quite the role model for that role.  Yes, he worked to help a great many people overcome their disabilities.  In fact, one of the great events that spurred his work was his desire to overcome his own knee-injuries.  But if you look at Feldenkrais more closely you see a man who was not simply interested in living a pain-free life.

            One of my favorite stories about him involves his first journey as a young man from his homeland in Russia to Palestine. During the trip he ran across a man selling pork-pies.  Having been raised Orthodox Jewish, he had never eaten pork before.  He bought a pie and ate it, and immediately threw up.  Not satisfied with this result, so he bought another, and another, and kept eating them until he could keep one down.  Why?  He didn’t want his reaction to the pies to determine his choices.

            Late in his life, during the Amherst Trainings, Feldenkrais attracted a great many people who we would today call “New Age.”  There were many people committed to a lifestyle of pure foods and lack of indulgence in the poisons of alcohol and tobacco.  Meanwhile, what did their guru do?  He smoked cigarettes.  He ate whatever he wanted and lots of it.  He made fun of the people who ate “nuts and berries.”

            This is not to say that Feldenkrais was right and these students were wrong.  Feldenkrais might have lived another 15 years had he not indulged to that extent.  But on the other hand, we can’t say that these students were right and Feldenkrais was wrong, either.  Why not?  That’s what gets back to my initial question about a “pain-free life.”

            Feldenkrais’ Method is based on the principle that we learn in response to a challenge, that when we are confronted with a problem that cannot be solved through habitual solutions we must reorganize, and that this reorganization is tremendously beneficial.  Philosophically, he was of the opinion that we need to challenge ourselves, even to the extent of eating foods that may not be “good for us” to keep the system “healthy.”

            It’s a challenging proposition.  Worth examining?  Let’s look at it through several lenses.  Would you agree that when a person gets into a position where they are too comfortable for too long they stagnate?  Have you seen this in job situations where a person remains in the same position out of inertia, or even fear?   What happens to such a person?

            What about the human body, irrespective of any choices we make?  It’s constantly regenerating itself.  Old cells die as they come in contact with outside forces and with time, and they are replaced from within by new cells.  What do you suppose would happen if this process ceased?  Can you imagine such a thing?  Would it be beneficial?

            Now take it a step further.  If you want to learn something, anything, can you do it without facing some kind of a challenge?  How many people wish they could play the piano?  Of course, they could learn if they wanted to take lessons, but very few people past the age of 15 do this because the challenge is too great.  There’s too much of a risk of emotional pain, too much danger to the self-image or too much sacrifice of time meant for other pleasurable things.  The relationship between challenge, even pain and discomfort, and growth, in this case, learning, remains.

            It would be insane to claim that a life filled with pain is desirable.  I have no conception of what constant pain is like.  I have never dealt with cancer or arthritis, have never faced poverty or severe depression.  Such pain is often debilitating, and those who struggle with it may have nothing left at the end of the day.  Yet there are people in this world who face such pain and do more than survive.  Beethoven is my favorite example.  Deaf, lonely, suffering from mercury poisoning, he found a way to write increasingly sublime music.  Was there something about his ability to function within his pain that made him more than simply a good composer?  I think so.

            Feldenkrais would have us realize that pain-free is not a life-goal, and that if the Method enables us to eliminate unnecessary pain and discomfort, then we should go further.  We can engage difficulties before they compromise us.  In this way, we do more than just survive, we strive for elegance.

            If you make it your life goal to eliminate all pain and discomfort from your life, then in the end your life will be about nothing more than the pain and discomfort.  We as humans can do so much more; we can find mountains to climb; we can attempt to master an art; we can start families and strive to learn to love in the face of human conflict; in this way, we do more than simply live.  We better ourselves and, in the process, we give meaning to our world.

 

© 2006 Adam Cole