There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy. ~Friedrich Nietzsche
Pilates
Pilates was developed by a man named Joseph Pilates (who didn’t call his work “Pilates;” that was a “thing” that turned into a shitshow all its own after his death, in 1967, and remains a shitshow today). Rather, he called his work “Contrology,” a made up word that holds the entire essence of his method: control. His knowledge of movement and the holistic mind-body method that he developed as a result, was and still is brilliant—light years ahead of his time. The original Pilates mat work consists of 34 specific exercises, done in a specific order without any special equipment—just you and gravity, baby. Apparatus, such as the Reformer and Cadillac, as well as other props, were developed later, when Mr. Pilates saw just how weak modern bodies were—most were too weak to do his simple (lol) exercises. The apparatus is used to “fill the gaps” of mat work, when we discover how formidable an opponent gravity can be, as well as to add resistance training to exercises with the genius of spring tension physics.
Disenfranchised with traditional Pilates programs, I happened upon Rebecca Leone and her powerful take on Pilates (I think via another pelvic floor search, curiously). Rebecca is a Romana-trained Pilates teacher who applies up-to-date contemporary science to Pilates, with the smartest and most entertaining delivery I’ve ever found in a teacher, all while honoring, protecting, respecting Joe Pilate’s legacy. I’ve learned more about Joseph Pilates, the man, from Rebecca, than from any other source. She’s not only a spectacular teacher, but a cherished mentor and friend. Working with her continues to have a deep impact on my Pilates teaching and personal practice.
Restorative Movement
I got better at Pilates, not by doing Pilates, but by quitting Pilates for a few years while I gravitated toward a program called Nutritious Movement, developed by Katy Bowman. I think what first lead me to her ground-breaking work was a Google search about the pelvic floor—Pilates teachers talk about it all the time, but in bizarre, nonsensical language like “engage your pelvic floor like it’s an elevator in a 10 story building, but just to the third floor.” WTeverlastingF? My Google search led me to this article: Pelvic Floor Party: Kegels are NOT Invited, and I was hooked. I devoured every blog post Katy ever wrote, bought all of her books (which now number 8 or 9), and after much hemming and hawing (I was in grad school, had only just barely finished my Pilates training but still felt desperately lacking in so many ways as a movement teacher), I registered for her Restorative Exercise Specialist program. The Nutritious Movement program gave me all the information my mind, body and soul were craving, but did not get in any certification I’d done prior. Like, “why can’t I sit crosslegged?” and “why does forward bending hurt some of my clients’ backs?” and “what’s the deal with barefoot shoes anyway?” and “how can I truly make my core stronger? And my hips stop hurting? and, and and…life changing doesn’t even…
Yoga
I am not a yoga teacher, as it’s a practice that has showed up only recently in my life, but in a short time, it has profoundly impacted my life, and I know that I will be a lifelong student of yoga. A wise teacher recently told our class, it is our holy obligation to share, not hoard, no matter what our experience level is. I feel yoga is the spiritual piece that my soul has been longing for, but my brain decided to take the long, winding, scenic route to get to it. I find the spiritual texts of yoga to be my absolute favorite part; the profound wisdom contained in ancient words brings a calm centeredness to my life that I’ve not experienced before. With my restorative and trauma-informed background, I take a unique approach to practicing and teaching asana—I strive to imbue my practice with grace, kindness and non-judgment. It’s my goal to make my classes truly accessible to all who arrive. I try to let go of preconceived ideas of what a pose “should” look like, and instead, get curious about how it can support and nourish me today, how can I bring an awareness to parts that might be neglected or forgotten, so that all of my parts benefit, not just the parts that I’m already aware of or already “good” at.