The joy of learning

There’s nothing quite like it. How you feel at the end of a Feldenkrais lesson: renewed, more at home in your body, capable. 

Ever since I stood up and walked around after my first class, I marvel at the surprising shifts each ATM brings. It was the summer I turned 18, which means I’d been wearing glasses already for 11 years. 

We rolled around on the floor, exploring movements from early childhood for an hour or so. The teacher hadn’t addressed me directly. He left me and everyone else to our own devices. The movements were unusual, which made me curious. The more engaged I became, the more fun I had. Somehow, by following directions and taking heed of how I executed them, the odd, often challenging movements got easier. I was becoming more coordinated. By the end of the class, I couldn’t help but notice how much more of me was lying on the floor and lying noticeably more comfortably.  

When I stood up, I felt taller. There was something profoundly gratifying about the experience. I was appreciably more comfortable in my skin. 

I went outside for a short stroll in the woods of western Massachusetts. It was several minutes before I realized I’d forgotten my glasses. I couldn’t remember ever having done that, not even once. After years of feeling utterly dependent on my glasses to see and having recurrent nightmares about going blind, there I was: grounded, at ease, and reveling in all I saw, rejoicing in the verdant, vibrant visual world. 

How I moved had changed, as had my attitude toward myself. What was most impressive is that I brought this transformation about myself.