Bodies Are Good ~Naomi Chuah, RCST & TRE Practitioner

In our clinic, we are in the business of taking care of bodies. We take care of our own bodies, and spend a lot of time thinking about and putting into action supporting other bodies. We help bodies remember their own capacities to heal, move, and work the best they can in their given situation and place in time.

Right now I would like you to stop and take a minute. Turn your attention inside your own body. How does it feel? There are no right or wrong answers. There are though, definitely comfortable and uncomfortable answers.

Bodies are good, plain and simple. We spend our whole life in these fleshy, physical bodies. Bodies that are a biomechanical/psychosocial wonder of motion, emotion, and connection. We are ever breaking down and renewing and evolving. We are ever adapting to our physical/psycho emotional situations that we are in. Our bodies let us know when we are not happy, and they also bring us pleasure and contentment when we are happy, healthy, challenged, supported, and connected.

Not all of us have grown up with this message. For reasons as various as you can think of, many of us have been taught to distrust our body, and/or think of it as “bad” or somehow at fault for our own ills and for the ills of society. Or we may have had painful life experiences leading to physical discomfort and pain, leading us to view our body as something to be mistrusted.

This body is where it all lands. The comfortable, the uncomfortable, and the challenges. No matter if it’s physical or psychological (perhaps not separate?), the effects always end up in the body. Feel how your body retracts when frightened, strains forward in interest, gets weighed under an intense work load, and then melts into the embrace of a loved one. Do you feel the shapes and different tensions your body moves into and through?

At the end of the day, I feel for a lot of us, our body is the last frontier of facing our fears. After all the blame, the caring for others, the striving, the serving, the fighting. When we finally stop and quiet our minds: “Am I really ok with myself, how I feel in my own skin?”

Sometimes, I liken this fear to feeling a dragon behind us, always scaring us. We fight it, we avoid it, we try to subdue it. Then maybe we lock it up. That makes us feel a little safer, but still on edge. What if that dragon turns out to be the fear in our own nervous system? What if that dragon is part of me? What if that dragon (your nervous system) was looking out for you this whole time, and desperately trying to protect you? And you learn, that just maybe, you can go into that room slowly, and start to befriend it. Learn to feel. Learn to listen to the queues: when to slow down, listen, or maybe move faster, or get help. And learn to feel the contentment of a relaxed body that knows it is safe and capable. Your body will carry you through so much. And feel not only pain, but joy and pleasure as well.

Radical Acceptance: Embodiment

When I hear the term “radical acceptance”, what comes to mind is social justice and the acceptance we extend to others around us, even if those people are different from us with a different lived experience. Lately I’ve been mulling these words over, trying out how they feel when it comes to our bodies and how we feel in them. I think when we are able to accept ourselves in a radical way, this leads to embodiment. This hugely informs my clinical practice. When asked about what I do, I’ve started saying “I help people be in their bodies”. 

While feeling sensations in our body is indeed our own lived experience, our sensations do not always live up to how we want to feel, how we think we “ought” to feel, or how others think we should feel. Before I go on, a little disclaimer: this article is not saying that we shouldn’t have goals for how we want to feel, or that helping ourselves or others to feel better is wrong. In fact the alleviation of suffering, whether physical and/or emotional, is a lofty pursuit. Instead I am offering that feeling in the present moment can be done without self-condemnation and judgement, that there are moments when we can simply “feel”. This would not only be radical acceptance of ourselves, but a definition of embodiment. 

This practice of feeling without judgement has been a journey for me, and continues to be so. It often involves slowing down, taking a deep breath, and consciously paying attention to my inner sensations. When I try to manipulate my sensations into someone else’s ideas of what I should be feeling, in other words judging myself, my fascia will often tighten up more, creating more physical restrictions within my body. Try simply noticing what sensations are happening in your body in a given moment, or notice the moment when you start to judge the sensation. And try not to judge the judgement! Or simply, accept the sensation and the fact that you are judging yourself. And then see what happens. 

If you are feeling a particularly tough sensation, close your eyes and gently ask your body, “what is this about?” And gently let go the quick answer your brain might send you, instead awaiting the answer that may arise from your body tissues. The answer might come in the shape of the intention of gesture, an intended body posture, or perhaps thoughts or memories that arise from the sensations of your body. Another question you can ask your body, after doing the above (or after doing the above several times), is, “what do I need?” And remember if the answers are not forthcoming, continue to be patient with yourself, as the answers may come another time. And remember to not necessarily trust the quickness of answers in the form of stories coming from your brain, but see what arises in sensations from the body. It’s more about deepening into an aligned relationship with yourself, than getting a quick fix answer.  

To cultivate this culture of radical acceptance in ourselves and others, I believe we need to build a tolerance to sensation, even when that sensation is discomfort. First, let’s qualify the difference between overwhelming sensation and a medium sense of discomfort. We all need help when overwhelmed, whether that be in the form of support from family and friends, physical and/or emotional therapy, and/or biochemically. I think the confusion happens when we equate discomfort with overwhelm, and it brings new understanding and depth when we are able to differentiate the two. As we build tolerance to discomfort, not only can we start to be present long enough to bring new insight into understanding ourselves and others, but I believe it is also an opportunity to gain physical and emotional resilience. It stretches the capacity and flexibility of our nervous systems and enables us to stay out of overwhelm and in the window of tolerance a little more easily. 

Some of the most profound moments of sensation happen when we fall into that place of just feeling, letting go of all the stories and reasons we have accumulated over our lifetimes. It’s a vulnerable place, and can take practice to stay in that feeling for any length of time. Suddenly reasons don’t matter, we stop fighting, and there is surrender, as we fall into the connection of everything. It feels a lot like love. When this happens in Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy, generally you’ll experience an opening of physical restriction in your body, often changing how you relate with the outside world.

Photo Credit: Jan Kopriva, Unsplash

Stress

I’ve been ruminating for a while on what to write about, and the subject of stress keeps presenting itself. I like to be positive, but I’ve learned the value of naming a topic directly for what it is. As we come out of the past few months of heightened virus awareness, it seems very few have remained untouched in some way. There are those affected directly by the virus with all the ramifications. Of us remaining there has been uncertainty in a variety of ways: whether around the virus, around work, school, finances, and when and how to connect with those we love. How does this affect our bodies? For a lot of us, stress!

I have spent a good deal of time devoted to the study of trauma, but for the purpose of this article I will mostly use the term stress, as stress does sound slightly more positive and not everyone would describe their stress situation as trauma. Even so, a build up of stress in the body can produce a similar physical symptomology as trauma.

How does our body process stress? First off, stress is a normal part of life. We are wired for it. And to be alive is to experience stress, anxiety, joy, excitement, anger, contentment, love, peace, and all the other emotions that are present in a well lived life.

On a normal day we run on aprox 70% fight/flight nervous system. You may ask, “Isn’t that a scary part of our nervous system, a part that we want to stay out of?” Well, it’s also the part of our nervous system that gets us out of bed in the morning, lets us do our work, get excited, and care for those we love. This system has also recently been coined “attend and befriend“. Originally the research was done on white males only, but as more research comes to light, we are understanding of the variety of ways of how we express this system. So when stress revs up, oftentimes there is a drive to connect and soothe others to find safety(attend/befriend), or a reaction deep in the brain that jacks up our diaphragm, starts our heart racing, and pumps blood to our limbs that enables us to fight or flee. Most of our modern life doesn’t call for fighting or fleeing, so this urge can turn into a driving anxiety- a physical drive that can be verbally aggressive and/or an anxiety that drives us to “do” something about our stress. Even when we know we have done all we can do, the brain may go a hundred miles an hour and the body can have trouble slowing down.

Another part of our nervous system is called “freeze”; the part that kicks in when the caring, fighting or flight has not been able to resolve our perceived danger. Our fascia contracts, our body become less fluid, and it becomes harder to act; a kind of numbing or dissociation that happens when the body tones down sensation to “wait out” the perceived danger. Again, the freeze part of our nervous system has great diversity and also exhibits more pleasurable sensations called “freeze without fear”. This happens when we enjoy a good meal in good company, and also with procreation and when nursing a baby.

What I’ve often noticed in life and when doing cranio is that generally the lines are blurred. Each person has their own way of reacting when stressed. One person may go straight from normal to freeze when stressed, and another person may live much of their life in a semi ramped up fight/flight state. Or another may be living with the brakes and gas on at the same time, fascia clamped down around bones in freeze while nerves are shooting flight messages like grinding sparks.

I think it is important to honor our bodies and how we have survived. Even when it’s not what we currently want to feel, these nervous system states have got us this far, and they are legitimate ways of being.

Understanding stress, trauma, and how our nervous systems are fundamentally wired to attune to safety by checking in with others, whether by touch or by being profoundly seen and heard by another, is foundational to how Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy works. Our fascia literally responds to our environment, and will soften when it feels safe, allowing more blood flow and informing our central nervous system with softer messages.

A very primal way of understanding stress and the effects that attuned and caring touch have on a very physical level, is to ponder what happens to a baby’s body during birth.

Babies when born only survive when touched by a caregiver, and only get nourishment through the attunement of another. First let’s remember that it’s a healthy baby that gets to scream their discomfort and distress upon their entrance to this world. Then, as baby wriggles up the front of their parent and suckles the breast, bones in the baby’s head that were so recently squashed, overlapped and retracted in fascia from the monstrous effort that is birth, suddenly soften, expanding outwards as embrace between parent and child set off cascades of oxytocin and endorphins. At the same time the suckling of milk exerts a gentle internal pressure, also expanding the bones outward. We perceive ourselves through the touch of another.

What are all the ways to acknowledge and soothe stress? Probably there are as many ways as there are people. Learning how to tolerate and even befriend internal sensation is important. Connection to nature is huge and can bring healing to both us and land. We learn to come to terms with our stories by telling our stories and by hearing the stories of other’s. Craniosacral therapy, massage, reiki, and counselling, are all high on my list of favorites. Dancing, yoga, and walking, are all ways for us to feel our bodies and to help us build a healthy sense of embodiment.

Finishing a hot shower with a cold blast, we wake up, reminded that we can tolerate the comfortable and the surprising in a renewed surge, gulping lungfulls of air and stepping forward into life.

Written By Naomi Chuah, RCST, Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapist

Some recommended reads:

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indiginous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants, by Robin Wall Kimmerer (Ways to connect to and learn from Nature)

The Body Keeps The Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma, by Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD (Understanding Trauma)

Connection

The quiet ache propels me out of doors. I round a corner, and once again my eyes rest on bark, roots, fungus, and moss. Tiny fairy kingdoms, worlds within worlds, the miniature touching my eyes. I know, once again, that I am okay.

Legs moving, feet padding, led onward, deep into the pale green and whites and browns of cottonwood forest and paths, springy sappy scents opening my nose and lungs.

An inner knowing propels me off the trail, and I am sitting by the water listening to my inner rhythms. Reminded once again to trust my body. Coming to peace sitting on mud, gazing into a high tide river knowing to its muddy depths.

As humans, we keep asking the question, “What makes us feel ok?”. We wade through hundreds of pages in search of heady knowledge. And then, falling back to sensation, we once again become acquainted with ourselves. A pleasant gurgle moves through the tummy, a brush on the arm from a friend, the whispered caress of wind on the cheek. We even start letting in unpleasant sensations, letting ourselves feel, knowing that we are, or might be one day, okay.

Some would say spirituality makes us feel okay. Brene Brown talks about spirituality like this: “Our expressions of spirituality are as diverse as we are. When our intentions and actions are guided by spirituality – our belief in our interconnectedness and love – our everyday experiences can be spiritual practices”. Might I venture further to say that one doesn’t have to call it spirituality to feel connected; to family, community, animals and plants.

Falling into awe of the starry universe or the miniature of a tree bark’s mossy ecosystem, both somehow reassure our senses that yes, we are real, and there is more going on than just our internal sensations.

Conversely, at times when I cannot connect, and surrender to being myself, suddenly the extra stories fall away, bittersweet, and I just am, as the world comes rushing in to meet me.

Written by: Naomi Chuah, BCST

Photo Credit: Jay

Pause

                                                      


What is a pause and what might it accomplish? During the holidays I let myself sink under the rush I was experiencing inside and out. It wasn’t a forced pause, it was more of a letting myself do what the ancient wisdom in my body already knew. I read, played games, walked outdoors, letting myself go from the “pressures” of what I was feeling. Post holidays I noted a re-organization had taken place in how I thought about certain aspects of my life, and how to go about them.

In craniosacral therapy we talk about “stillness”. The body quieting, coming to an intricate balance of introspection. I often feel this as a pause with a flavor of something at the edges. Sometimes an edge of retreat, finding safety in being still and far away. Or a quiet sense of deep rest. Or a sense of excitement: something percolating, a new way of being, a creative energy about to express.

I’ve learned the value of a pause in conversation. Instead of rushing to fill the gap, contain, or help: instead a pause, a breath, a glance, a touch. Letting be without hurrying to fix. Compassion gets a chance when we give space to let something simply be what it is. Change has a chance when not immediately forced to compensate.

Spending time in nature is a wonderful way to feel a pause. This is my experience.

“Walking amongst the trees at sunrise, a hush comes from the land, a quietness and anticipation, I am filled with awe. The sun greets my eye slowly in brilliance, and I turn so as not to be completely undone by unrelenting clarity.

At sunset I pause, waist deep in grass. Nature turns towards the west, peaceful in it’s quiet yearning.

On the mountains I am caught up in the stillness of snow. A deep quiet comes from the stone and and trees and whiteness of mountain ranges, quietly in communication across the peaks. I pause, and listen.”

Written by: Naomi Chuah, RCST BCST

Photo Credit: Nigel

Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy, Getting Comfortable In Our Bodies

In this article I would like to explain what gets me most excited about cranio; why it has helped me so much; why I work hard to make a career of this; and why I want to share it with you.

Most of my life I have struggled with mental health; struggled to internally self-regulate. I projected an outward calm while inwardly doing everything I could to try and feel calm. I mostly had a handle on it until my late twenties. I was happy to give birth, but didn’t know how to integrate the bodily trauma and everything else that came up around it. Within months I came down with an autoimmune disorder, experiencing extreme exhaustion along with many physical symptoms. My family also started dealing with allergies, sensory integration, gut issues, and behavioral issues with our little one.

I’ve always been curious about health – both mental and physical. Engaging in lots of random readings, asking questions, I was always looking, listening, soaking up information, and wondering what worked for people and why. This was especially the case as health issues came up for my family. Starting with treating on a physical level, I eventually threw myself into learning how our bodies heal through profoundly being seen, heard, and met through the presence and empathy of another human being. In psychology this is called attachment theory. Babies learn to regulate their internal nervous systems by following the nervous systems of the adults around them. As babies grow, their inner worth consolidates as they continue to connect with others but realize they are in fact separate beings. This process can be interrupted at any stage for various reasons, leaving internal self-regulation spotty. The good news is internal regulation can still happen in an interrupted adult body system.

Researching, working through, and supporting my own and my family’s health with the support of various healthcare professionals has taught me so much. I attended groups learning about anxiety and aggression in children. And then, when I took my Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy training, I was blown open once again, learning so much about myself and others. Continuing my education, I took BCST postgrads “Advanced Cranial & Relational Skills for Families” and “Somatic Psychology and the Potency of the Psyche”. Results for me and my family have been deep. I feel more internally regulated, moving between different feeling states in my nervous system with more ease. Simply put, I feel a wide variety of feelings, knowing I’m ok. My partner has less chronic pain and less headaches. Our child has integrated a lot of issues they dealt with as a little one.

All of this has given me tools and presence to work with people on a somatic level as they work through emotional processes in their mind/body. This work brings me joy and so much excitement! BCST (cranio) is a place you can come and leave judgement at the door. For when your body feels safe and seen in its deep layers, the body response is to open and engage in healthy ways of moving, being, feeling, and interacting.  

Written By: Naomi Chuah, RCST BCST



Babies and Cranio

Why Cranio?

Being a Mom was what first brought me to biodynamic craniosacral therapy. Years ago, our family had experienced multiple health and sensory challenges with our little one. We had tried a lot of alternative therapies, and I think a lot of them did help in different ways. I had heard about cranio, and put it off. Finally trying it, I remember our little one’s second appointment. The therapist asking if anything had changed. I was surprised. Less itching, better breathing. Anyone dealing with allergies knows this is a big deal. Later we noticed more behavioral regulation. Also a big deal. Then I tried it for myself. I was hooked. Becoming a practitioner changed me, my relationship with my own body and my ability to go in and out of differing nervous system states with more ease. And last but not least, my ability to feel good. I believe change is possible. It doesn’t always look how we think it will, but I believe it is possible for ourselves and our little ones to come into more ease.

How do I work with Baby?

There are different ways of working with babies. I usually either have a parent hold baby, have baby on a flat surface, or myself hold baby, whichever one seems best. Sometimes the parent will nurse baby as this can be greatly supportive to baby during cranio. I then place my hands gently on baby in different areas. Examples being head, sacrum, tummy, feet. I gently listen to what is going on in the baby’s body, and support the baby’s system in resolving patterns. Sometimes baby might enter a deep rest. This can happen very quietly and calmly. At times, however, baby may have a “story” to tell. This is not done with language, but through vocalizations and body movements that may be intense. The baby may even get quite upset for a time. Either way, my intention is to support the baby in the best way possible. When upset, the parent and I both let the baby know we are present, while also letting the baby know we are paying attention and acknowledging their suffering. We are letting the baby express and be heard instead of trying to shut the expression down, as we don’t want baby to again put the upset into deep holding/tension patterns.

Babies are very kinesthetic by nature, and sometimes do not want to stay still on the table for a treatment. This is another way I work with babies: I will have the mother lay down and put baby tummy to tummy with mom. Often baby will go through repeating patterns, telling the story of their birth. It’s easy to think the baby has some trauma to work through. Sometimes that is the case, as baby may at some point in the sequence start to “voice” their story, or even seem a little “stuck” or to move through in various descriptive ways. This may be the first time they have had someone fully present to understand what this experience was like for them.

We are also letting the baby “practice” their patterns in an acknowledged way. Early on, as an embryo develops, there is a slow curving inward like a bean and a slow arcing outward. This pattern repeats over and over through development. In many births, the baby spirals as it negotiates it’s mother’s pelvis, also pushing out with its feet and arching back at the final stage, leaving the enveloped womb for the enveloping air. For development to continue outside of the womb in a typical fashion, a baby will curl inward to rest, arc outward pulling itself off the floor, spiral as it learns to roll over, and push with its feet as it learns to crawl and later walk. Practicing their patterns is indeed an affirmation of, and participation in, life.

As a result of cranio sessions with babies, I have heard comments similar to these: “My baby went through huge developmental leaps since last I saw you.” Or “My baby didn’t mind their diaper being changed this time”, a change in environmental sensitization. Or baby might even have a bowel movement before the session is done, when for medical reasons this had not happened in a little while. These results are not promised, but altogether possible. This all points to an internal regulation of fascia, nervous system, and musculoskeletal systems. This can happen when a baby is allowed to practice their patterns in a conscious setting.

Fall Revisited

Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy is a way to engage not only our  physical bodies, but our deeper emotions and feelings. Our emotional experience is happening in and shaping our bodies all the time, and BCST is a holistic approach. As a therapist, during cranio, I have felt physical restrictions release quicker when a person expresses what is really bothering them, deeply, in the moment. After cranio, people tend to feel not only less pain and more mobility, but at times more mental clarity, during or after sessions. BCST also works wonderfully with counseling, I have heard feedback reporting quicker breakthroughs when the two are done in tandem. In this blog post I describe some clarity and shift that happened for me, gradually, after a cranio session I received.

As we travel deeper into fall, I’ve grown curious about this season where I live in the west coast rain forest. The streams are swelling their banks and running fast, and even as I notice the trees have done with their leaves, moss and lichen and fungus are bursting forth, brilliant and full of life as ever.

This season I did experience some of the usual grief often associated with fall, but something was different. I had just had a cranio session, and found myself curious about the grief that was coming up in my system. First off it felt deeper than usual, then I noticed resistance. As I let myself feel, I noticed the grief was shot through with a feeling of love, as grief cannot exist without love.

At the same time, information started coming to me from different places. A vivid dream, a teacher, a workshop, my reading. I was learning that life as we know it only moves forward in the presence of death. Early on, as a human embryo takes shape, whole sections of cells have to die, giving way for emerging shape. We’re all familiar with how vegetation composts, giving rise to nutrition and new life forms. What if loosening our hold on our old stories, no longer serving us, acts as a kind of death in our systems? A letting go, that makes space for renewed life and new ways of feeling and interacting with others.

I gradually started noticing myself reacting differently to things that would normally trigger me in the past. It was like my body was finally catching up with my brain. Instead of reacting to triggers with held body tension, I would recognize other people had different ways of doing things, and move on with my inner worth in tact and openness maintained in my body. As a disclaimer, this is not how I react to everything in life, nor should it be, but I experienced a fundamental shift. I never expected grief to be part of the process, but it seemed intrinsic. Feeling this particular grief became a conscious letting go.

We often unconsciously sacrifice parts of ourselves to culture, gender, family, expectations. I am learning other ways of consciously offering that are enriching to myself and hopefully to others as well. Letting go of old stories, offering vulnerability, loosening a tenacious hold on personal identity, opening to the rest of humanity and nature. This can come with resistance and pain, but can be highly rewarding. As I revisit, re-evaluate, and reshape my relationship with death and wounding in my own system, new space is opening. Less body tension, more energy, empowerment, connection.

So even as the leaves are gone and summer plants have wilted, I see renewed lichen, teaming streams, brilliance of water all around me and wonderful happenings in my life.  

Written by: Naomi Chuah, RCST BCST

Photo Credit: Pete Nowicki

 

Patterns

Fall is slipping in under the lingering rays of summer. A coolness in the air, a few leaves on the ground. I am feeling both, the life and warmth of summer and the coolness of fall.

Reading, I am enjoying learning different ways of being, different ways of experiencing time and space. Our experience of time and space tend to be linear and separate. Oral cultures around the world experience time and space less differentiated and more cyclical, everything coming round again in a constant emergence, grounded in the storied land.

I feel this happening when we relive patterns of being. Situations keep coming round, duplicating opportunities for our past and future to participate in the present. We hold our storied past in our bodies… In our posture, in our own particular twists, our openness, our closedness, our thoughts. We also hold our futures, in a way. Our thoughts, aspirations, our yearning forward, the possibilities we know are there. This all participates in our present story unfolding, and sometimes letting the edges blur in a gradual acceptance, can be healing and integrating in our continuing experience.

On the table in a craniosacral (BCST) session, I’ve noted different layers of a person’s experience processing in the body, beautifully integrating. Or a new and recent trauma opens the door for an old experience to reassert itself and find healing in the present. I am learning to drop the judgement of wondering why a person repeats similar cycles and instead have a gentle curiosity of “what is this person learning?” Or admiring the sheer breadth of exploration this person is capable of. While at the same time honoring the deep pain that may accompany the pattern. More to the point, I’m dropping the judgement I have around my own patterns and learning to explore these patterns with self-compassion and love.

Another fascinating way of watching patterns repeat is to work with babies as a BCST practitioner. Babies are very kinesthetic by nature, and not as likely to stay still on the table for a treatment. Sometimes we have the mother lay down and put the baby tummy to tummy with mom. Often the baby will go through repeating patterns, telling the story of their birth. It’s easy to think the baby has some trauma to work through. Sometimes that is the case, as the baby may at some point in the sequence start to “voice” their story, or even seem a little “stuck” or to move through in various descriptive ways. This may be the first time they have had someone fully present to understand what this experience was like for them.

We are also letting the baby “practice” their patterns in an acknowledged way. Early on, as an embryo develops, there is a slow curving inward like a bean and a slow arcing outward. This pattern repeats over and over through development. In many births, the baby spirals as it negotiates it’s mother’s pelvis, also pushing out with its feet and arcing back at the final stage, leaving the enveloped womb for the enveloping air.  For development to continue outside of the womb in a typical fashion, a baby will curl inward to rest, arc outward pulling itself off the floor, spiral as it learns to roll over, and push with its feet as it learns to crawl and later walk. Practicing their patterns is indeed an affirmation of, and participation in, life.

As a result of these sessions, I have heard comments similar to these. “My baby went through huge developmental leaps since last I saw you.” Or “My baby didn’t mind their diaper being changed this time”, a change in environmental sensitization. Or baby might even have a bowel movement before the session is done, when for medical reasons this had not happened in a little while. These results are not promised, but altogether possible. This all points to an internal regulation of fascia, nervous system, and musculoskeletal systems. This can happen when a baby is allowed to practice their patterns in a conscious setting.

From birth, and spring, cycling back to fall, and the Fraser, the beautiful river in the land in which I live.

An ode to the cycles of the land I inhabit:

The river has lowered herself down her banks, emptying into the ocean.

On the sand, I am caught in the interface of summer and fall, stillness between life and death.

The Fraser has come to a halt, a breadth of stillness, waters pausing before the ocean again swells her banks.

Currents flow oceanward as the tide swells back in a never ending cycle of river, ocean, moon and tide.

Cycles within cycles.

Lowering myself in, the water is cold now as it greets my skin, hints of the ocean.  

A whole year has come round since last I wrote about grief, loss, and the fall.

I am comforted in this pause, this interface, this time of year.

Photo credit: The Fraser, By Nigel

Touch

A huge topic, with relevance in Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy. Touch is where the magic lies. Is it just a brief experience, nerves/skin touching another body, both brains registering the proximity of another? Or is it layers upon layers of subtlety?

When is our first encounter with touch? Our first encounter with another?

Let’s delve into the biomechanics. Experienced firmly, touch can help the body feel itself in its environment. Squeezing the arms and legs of a person feeling “spacey” can help with a feeling of solidity and groundedness. Light touch informs the emotional part of our brains. All this is mediated by our nervous systems.

Early in development, skin and nervous system originate from the same type of cells. Our skin is one giant organ of feeling. And even earlier, before nervous system, is fascia, acting with intelligence.

Fascia houses our nerves, and everything else in our bodies. It’s that filmy stuff that connects absolutely everything in the body, enfolding everything, right down to our cells. Fascia can retract like elastic, and will pull back in defence of external situations, if needed. Inside fascia is a plethora of nerve receptors. This means the brain is constantly receiving information from our fascia in how we hold ourselves in relation to our environment, and whether or not pain might be appropriate. Fascia is constantly informing and providing context for our nervous system.

Fascia may also be electrically conductive and is the scaffolding of our cells. When we are touched, this pressure on our fascia triggers cells to release chemical messages locally and into the bloodstream, where it may reach the whole body. Remember, some chemical messaging is related to our felt sense emotions. So we have electrical impulses conducted between bodies, fascia reacting in shape and posture to touch, nerves taking up information, and cellular and chemical messaging being tripped off.

These reactions in our own body are happening in context to how we perceive the “other”. Both bodies firing at the same time in context of the other. Of course, all our senses are involved, including our whole life experience that we often use to filter the present. The complexity is astounding. Imagine, or try with a trusted friend or partner, touching out of different motive. From a scared feeling, from a grounded feeling. How does this feel, for both of you?

Attachment theory tells us that we are hardwired to need safe touch, even before food. At birth, safe loving touch is nature’s way of assuring that we get food and are protected. One of my favorite childhood memories is trading backrubs with my siblings. What are your memories of touch?

During a cranio session it can happen that a person’s body does not want to be touched. When acknowledged, and given space, that feeling can change in an instant. Feeling empowered to make the decision of accepting touch or not goes a long way.

Cranio is often about nerve and tissue, bone and muscle. Letting them reorganize into better working order of its own accord. The body knows what to do, and wants to move toward greater health. The safe touch of a BCST practitioner lets the body know that it can stop guarding and do what it is made to do.  

At times cranio can touch a deeper place in our bodies. One day on the table in a cranio session, I was feeling the powerfulness of my being in connectedness with the universe. Simultaneously, as the practitioner moved her hand and touched my forehead, I experienced the utter vulnerability of being earthed under a mother touch. My insides split open in raw openness under the glare and tenderness and knowing of a mother hand. I have touched similar holy ground in others. What are we touching? Does it matter? We come into being in relation to others, to live well our lives depend on connection. We touch flesh and bone, nervous system and fascia, we touch trauma, and we may be touching that deep deep inner knowing of openness and vulnerability. Letting oneself sink into that place of need, as we are met, held and seen by another. 

Photo Credit Geetanjal Khanna on Unsplash