#floortime

Most Feldenkrais classes start with the teacher asking students to lie on the floor and tune into their physical sensations. 

This ritual invites you to shift your attention from whatever you were busy doing to noticing your physical experience in the present moment. You begin to sense the rhythm of your breath, notice the position of your trunk and limbs, and feel your contact with the floor.

At some point, I might ask the participants to consider the floor a friend. After all, the floor is so reliable and dependable. No matter where you go, there it is. 

Regardless of how you feel or look, the floor accepts you as you are without comment or apprehension. It is empathic — listening to everything you say without judgment — and trustworthy — you can confide in it with confidence, knowing it will never divulge your vulnerabilities and secrets.

The floor has an even, undemanding temperament and clear boundaries. It has no expectations, demands, or requirements. Though it is forever getting stepped on, the floor never whines or complains. 

The floor never tries to hold onto you or hold you back. Instead, it offers a baseline, provides orientation, and gives you a starting place, a springboard for action, for wherever you’re going.

If you think about it, who or what else is so consistent and unconditionally supportive?