Anyway, had a very deep "life" thoughts to put out here. These two weeks, I'm taking a course on Neuro-Developmental Theory, which basically translates to learning how to handle and facilitate hemiplegic muscles in order to recreate normal movement patterns. Pretty darn cool when it works. In some ways it's been back to school, since we have at least one lecture a day and multiple labs. In one of the lectures, there was a picture and concept that struck me. It was called "The Well." Here's a (probably illegally reproduced, don't tell) picture of it:
Basically, the idea is that the ball that perches on the edge of the well is more unstable than the one inside the well. This makes the outside ball more easily moved. In NDT terms, it demonstrates the concept that people with hemiplegia have muscles that are unstable, and can be swayed either way, back down the hill into normal movement patterns or into the well with compensatory, incorrect patterns that will take much more momentum to correct. As therapists we have to make sure our treatment is continually finding that edge of the well, so that we can help our patients roll and progress.
I know, kind of cheesy. But, speaking of cheesy, isn't this an interesting way to view the world???? Maybe it's just me, but I find the concept of striving to be unstable as somewhat counterintuitive. Maybe it's cause in a lot of ways, I'm a well-dweller. Bona fide, certified, nester-at-heart well dweller. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. There is a lot to be said for stability. I don't think I am alone in finding the concepts of keeping a job for a significant time, living in a house long enough to unpack, and maintaining long relationships (friends, siblings, marriages, pets) appealing and highly preferable to chaos and constant change. Especially if you have something good, what is wrong in appreciating it and kind of just, letting it be?
On the other hand, stability isn't always the answer. As you might remember from my haircut post a few weeks ago, or, you know, know from elsewhere besides this blog, constancy can be boring. Complacency is certainly not something I endorse; becoming rigid in your thinking and views is one of the biggest reasons the human race produces so much suckiness. And what happens if something happens to your well? Maybe it floods, or gets surrounded by wildfires. Or maybe the people or things making up the walls of your well change or get taken away (or go away). I think the crucial thing is not that you need to necessarily SEEK instability, just that you need to be able to deal with it when it happens? I guess what I take from the picture is that you need to know how to live on the edge of the well, and accept that sometimes the right answer is to roll away.
I have a somewhat related story from the course as well. As I mentioned, NDT involves a lot of manual handling, and we spend a considerable amount of time practicing our techniques on each other. Yesterday our job was to get our partner to walk just by managing the pressure of our hands on the back of their rib cage. Takashi, one of our instructors, volunteered me to facilitate him. He had to give me a few hints to get me/us going, but then once I figured it out, we were on a roll. Halfway across the gym, he says, without looking around, "Your hands are wonderful. You do a nice job of keeping the pressure light. But you need to relax your shoulders."
I had to laugh. Without turning around, he could tell that, despite the fact that my hands were barely touching him, my shoulders were practically rigid in my determination to facilitate correctly (and, in my defense, from holding up my arms to his rib cage, since he's really tall). I tried to loosen them, and when we got to the end of the gym, he turned and said to me, "You know, Ann, you just do so much better when you let go. I feel the tension in your arms and I know you're thinking so much, but when you just let yourself stop worrying and just do it, you do a fantastic job."
Lesson one, never argue with an NDT instructor about the state of your muscles. Lesson Two, Takashi is very nice. Lesson Three...to be determined.
I don't know about most of you, but a lot of times I feel like a duck. You know, calm on the surface, paddling like mad underneath. And it's always important to me that no one knows about the paddling. I'm not sure if it's keeping up an image or self-protection or insecurity or what, but I don't tend to like it if people understand how much goes on underneath the surface. But I guess sometimes people can tell; probably more often than I think. Especially when I have my hands on their rib cages. And that isn't such a bad thing. But I can't decide if the takeaway from my facilitation compliment is to let my paddling show or to stop paddling so hard and just enjoy the lake I'm already on, trusting my little duck self to be just fine. Or maybe both? Or maybe to stop looking for takeaways everywhere?
But where would be the fun in that last option?
So those are my deep thoughts. Hope you all are enjoying your wells or edges, wherever you may be!!
xoxo
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