BY EMMALY WIEDERHOLT

Kathleen McGuire Gaines is the founder of Minding the Gap, an organization that seeks to make dancers’ mental health as important as their physical health. Here, Kathleen shares why improving access to mental health resources is of personal significance to her, how the pandemic is affecting mental health, and what Minding the Gap is doing to change the culture of mental health in dance.

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Can you share a little bit of your own history and how you became passionate about dancers’ mental health? How did Minding the Gap begin?

I was a ballet dancer who left home at a young age to train. I’m originally from upstate New York. I left home at age 14 to train at Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre’s preprofessional program, and then when I was 17, I went to San Francisco Ballet School’s preprofessional program. I was in a highly competitive environment separated from my family. This is a common experience for dancers trying to pursue a career. I was not a very confident dancer; I didn’t think much of myself and I relied on the people at the front of the room to validate me, which is kind of dangerous. But things were mostly going well for me.

Shortly after I arrived in San Francisco, I sustained my first injury, which was a stress reaction to my second metatarsal. I went from being seen, near the top of my class, and being considered for roles within the company, to being vapor. The moment I got injured, I felt like I just disappeared. I didn’t have good coping skills. I really believed that if I wasn’t a dancer in one of the biggest ballet companies in the country, then I was an abject failure. I was rigid in my thinking about success and value, and I went through my first major depression. I tried to manage it in ways a lot of teenagers without good mental coping skills do: partying and trying to control my body through disordered eating.

When I stopped dancing, I went to the University of Pittsburgh to get a writing degree. As I was leaving dance, I asked myself, “What else keeps me happy?” I kept a detailed journal the entire time I was in San Francisco that made me feel better, so I went to school for writing. When I graduated, it was the start of the recession, not a great time to be a writer. I was working retail, and I knew I had to figure out how to get published. I saw an advertisement for unpaid internships with Dance Magazine. I applied and got the internship. I went to New York City and lived on a girlfriend’s couch. I accidentally became a dance writer; I didn’t particularly want to write about dance. When I left dance, I was emotionally scarred, and I had no desire to see any dance performances. Through beginning to write about dance, I found a cathartic way to face my dragons. I took the mindset of: “What do I wish I had known?” I wish someone had talked to me about mental health. I wish someone had normalized it. I wish going to therapy had been as normal as going to physical therapy.

I started writing a lot about mental health topics starting in 2010. In 2017, I wrote an opinion piece for the Dance Magazine website, “Why Are We Still So Bad at Addressing Dancers’ Mental Health?”, where I shared my own mental health story as well as ideas to make mental health culture better based on the many  interviews I’d done. I was stunned when that article went viral. It was obviously very affirming to hear I wasn’t alone, but at the same time it was really sad. Minding the Gap was born out of the reaction to that article. Mental health professionals and dancers were reaching out to me from all over the world. I had created this call to action. In late 2018, I founded Minding the Gap. We are a social good company, and we seek to make mental health regarded with the same seriousness as physical health in dance culture.

Can you give an overview of what Minding the Gap does?

We are a young company, and now we’re trying to live through a pandemic, so it is evolving. Right now, Minding the Gap is primarily focused on advocacy and research. I want the solutions we create to be what dancers need, not what I think they need or what therapists think they need. We have a townhall series where we talk about a mental health topic with a mental health professional and a professional dancer. I also speak with leadership at schools and companies all over the country to advocate for access to mental health resources. In the long term, we will be providing consulting to dance institutions who are interested in implementing robust mental health programs, as well as offering direct services for dancers. Those are being developed as we grow.

In terms of Minding the Gap’s research, can you share a little about your methodology?

So far, we’ve done two surveys. One immediately followed the 2017 article and was posted on Dance Magazine’s website. Almost 900 people responded. The results from that survey are on the Minding the Gap’s homepage. I asked simple questions with no clinical measures, like, “Have you dealt with a mental health challenge in the past five years?” Seventy-five percent said yes, 14 percent said maybe, and only 11 percent said no. I asked if their school or company had a mental health professional that dancers are referred to. Seventy-five percent said no. I found that direct correlation shocking. Only 12 percent said yes. Of that 12 percent, I asked, “If yes, can you reach that person directly?” Thirty-seven percent of that 12 percent said no. This illuminated how big of a problem mental health is and pushed me toward founding Minding the Gap.

We did a survey last winter on mental health topics dancers are interested in. This has been helpful information for mental health professionals who work with dancers. When we think of mental health problems in dance, we very quickly think of disordered eating. While that was important to dancers, it wasn’t in the top three topics. The top three were self-esteem and confidence, anxiety and depression, and dealing with rejection. This tells me dancers are intuitive. Any of those topics could lead to an eating disorder. It’s interesting to me that dancers are more focused on the cause and not the outcome.

Finally, we have just recently been awarded a grant by the Staunton Farm Foundation to do clinical research on the mental health of dancers in Point Park University’s dance department. While there is some great research out there on dancers’ mental health, a lot of it is focused on perfection and eating disorders. I’m interested in depression, anxiety, and self-esteem, which are more foundational mental health blocks. We will be implementing a program with the dancers and monitoring their mental health throughout. We want to see if our program is effective and how it needs to be adjusted based on feedback from dancers and teachers. The program is funded for the first year, but we would like it to be a three-year trial. You can’t just plop a psychologist in a dance studio and expect dancers to go talk to them. There’s a lot of work that needs to happen to change the culture. I’ve seen well-meaning schools and companies give out the number of a psychologist to dancers, but I ask: Have you normalized mental health as part of the culture in your environment? Do dancers think they’ll be looked at differently if they need a psychologist?

What are the biggest ways you are seeing the pandemic affect dance artists’ mental health?

It’s having a tremendous effect on mental health without a doubt. I think the dance world in many ways is collectively experiencing what we experience when we’re injured. The dance world has its foot in the ice bucket right now. Anyone who has been injured knows you are physically separated from your peers in the dance studio. The pandemic is that kind of loss on a social level. And then physically, you can’t do what you want to do. Even if you’re doing your barre in your living room, I doubt you’re doing grand allegro. Dancers are dealing with issues that are very similar to when we are injured, but all at once, which is good and bad. Obviously, it’s sad and difficult. But there’s something about collectively going through this that’s important. I don’t want people to lose sight of that. No one is alone in this. You’re in the company of every other dancer in the world.

Many dancers are grappling with the loss of identity; if I’m not a dancer, then who am I? I would argue that feeling can be very productive. It is incredibly important for dancers to acknowledge themselves as humans beyond being dancers. It’s productive during this time to look at other things that make you happy. Dance isn’t forever. You never know when it will be no more for you. That transition is going to be a world easier if you have identified other things that make you feel happy and fulfilled. So the pandemic is difficult but also an opportunity.

Of course, there are lots of issues related to fear of eating and maintaining, as well as fear of falling behind. I think that dancers just need to keep in mind that you’re not missing something when everyone else is in the same storm. The longer the pandemic has gone on, the clearer it has become that this magical day when a switch flips and we’re back all at once isn’t going to happen. Dancers and everyone else are going to reemerge into what we consider normal at a very small pace.

Dancers are perfectionists, and it’s a hard time to be a perfectionist. Through being in this moment when it is impossible to be perfect, can we honor and love ourselves as imperfect because of this experience? Can we be gentler with ourselves? Eventually we will be back. You will be dancing again. It’s going to take time. I hope what we learn from this is that we are far more resilient than we thought we were.

To your knowledge, is there any research on the mental health of dancers of color and if it differs from their white colleagues?

I do not know of any clinical research to that effect, though certainly anecdotally, it’s easy to say yes. In the research I’m going to be doing at Point Park University, race is an identifier we’re going to use so we can potentially look at the data from that lens. I wonder if other researchers have done the same but the research hasn’t been filtered in that way.

Similarly, do you know of any studies looking at if female dancers or nonbinary dancers experience different mental health outcomes from their male colleagues?

It’s an area of interest to researchers that is currently be carried out, but I’m not sure if there’s anything existing. Women certainly receive the message loud and clear that they are disposable within the dance world. There’s this idea of: If only I were a guy, I would get a job. But the opposite is true for many male dancers. While they have a greater sense of value in the dance world, that acceptance is not mirrored outside of dance. It’s interesting to look at those two sides of the coin.

Since founding Minding the Gap in 2018, have you noticed more companies and schools creating mental health resources?

I definitely think there’s change coming in a big way. Since I started writing about mental health 10 years ago, it’s incredible the change in terms of the number of people willing to speak about this and the number of mental health professionals who have worked with dancers. There’s a big leadership change that’s going to happen in our culture as a whole as the boomers retire. We’re already starting to see that, and with that comes a much greater interest in changing the status quo. When I talk to younger dancers now, they want to have conversations about mental health. They are eager to ask questions. When I was their age, there’s no way I would have asked a question about mental health in front of my peers. More schools and companies are actively thinking about this. They need to create more action, but it’s all ultimately tied to funding.

Since so many dancers will work freelance at some point in their career, are there any resources existing for those dancers? If not, what solutions would you like to see developed in the future?

First, that issue needs to be primarily addressed by major changes to the medical system in this country. Having access to good medical care should not be reliant on having a good job. That being said, I believe choreographers and leaders of small dance ventures can invest in making sure their dancers are in a safe and productive space, even if they are freelance. That might mean choreographers or leaders do work themselves to unpack some of the potentially abusive behaviors or leadership styles they have inherited from their dance education. In the dance world, the dancer becomes the teacher, and it becomes a cycle. Whatever has been normalized for that teacher is then passed to their students. That’s how the cycle of abuse continues. At the minimum, if you can’t offer dancers insurance or access to mental health, you have a responsibility to do some work on yourself to make sure your dancers are truly in a safe environment with you. And you can still know a therapist who you trust and respect, even if all you can do is give dancers their name and phone number.

How do you see Minding the Gap expanding or evolving in the future?

I really would like to complete this research at Point Park University and do additional research to get my arms around how we can best implement mental health programs and what those programs should look like. I would like Minding the Gap to help dance schools and companies of any size make more emotionally inclusive and safe environments for mental health. I’d love to create programs that allow dancers to access resources directly even if they don’t have a company or school affiliation.

Basically, I want to become irrelevant. I would love to see the day when I close the doors because the mental health programs in dance institutions rival physical health programs and I’m no longer needed.

Kathleen McGuire Gaines, Photo by Nicholas Coppula

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To learn more, visit www.wearemindingthegap.org.

The post Prioritizing Dancers’ Mental Health appeared first on Stance on Dance.

I hope dancers the world over are finding the resources they need to get through this, as well as the strength to draw from it. -Emmaly

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Astad Deboo in Mumbai, India

How has the coronavirus personally affected your dance practice?

Due to the present situation, all my performances have been called off. Most of them I hope are postponed and not cancelled, though time will tell. As all my artists are out of Mumbai, I am unable to work with them. My project of teaching the deaf students at the St. Stephens High School for the Deaf in Mumbai is closed as the school is closed. Performances, which were programmed through May, are now not happening. I am hoping to revive new dates for the postponed shows. I am also planning to begin a choreography for the deaf students, who I have been mentoring since 2019 January.

In June, I was to head for New Zealand to initiate a project with a dancer and a poetess. At the same time, she had set up interviews for me to meet programmers and visit dance departments of universities in Wellington and Auckland. Regarding the second half of the year, there is an invitation from the University of Hawaii to perform and discuss the dance scene in India vis-à-vis my own work. Another project was to be part of a drumming festival in early September in Chicago, but I don’t think that will happen.

How are you creatively coping?

I have a large living space where I stretch out and been listening to music and making notes. I can probably use some of the tracks in upcoming choreography. I have nothing specific in mind when I listen to the music; it motivates me, and I can see how the same music would work differently on my dancers and my drummers. There is music that would work for my deaf dancers and then that very music can be interpreted by me as a solo work.

I am not into doing online teaching.

What are you most worried about financially?

My artists, dancers and drummers all come from low income families, so many times they are the bread winners. Many of my dancers were at one point street children; some are orphans who have risen to becoming professional practitioners. Some not only dance but also work with puppeteers and actors, some have branched into photography. In India, there is nothing like unemployment help from the government, so my immediate concern is for my dancers, as their households run on income from performances, though some teach in schools. All that has stopped and, for the next four months at least, there will be very dire consequences.

I have been able to extend some monetary help, but I can’t see myself extending help for all the months. Besides them, I have the responsibility to pay the house help, which comes to clean the house as well as the person who washes my car every day. In the West, there is no concept of having house help, but in India, many are gainfully employed this way. All the people who come to help have been with the family for 30 years, some less some more, and they also work for others.

My drummers in Manipur do make a living by playing in the morning in the temples. Their services are required for wedding celebrations or on the solemn occasion of ceremonies after a person passes away.

Fortunately, I do have a dance foundation, so the donations received are tax deductible. One depends on donations from friends or, very occasionally, corporations donate, but the amounts are not large. Moreover, I am the main fundraiser; my board members are unable to raise money. I have been able to keep it going but never have been able to raise the ideal amount. One learns to allocate funds wisely, and I am thankful that the foundation is able to extend help in our own modest ways.

What’s giving you strength or keeping you grounded these days?

Prayer. Seeing most of us rise to the occasion at this hour of difficult times. To be calm and see how I can be of help to the less fortunate.

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Gabrielle Kazuko Nomura in Seattle, WA

How has the coronavirus personally affected your dance practice?

I lost several performance opportunities, and one dance-related speaking gig, which is unfortunate, but it’s not where I am really feeling the impact. In recent years, my dance work has been closely tied to my Asian American activism and my desire to help foster more representation for People of Color. Where I hurt most is the disconnection from my family, my elders, my API community, and other People of Color whom I love and admire.

How are you creatively coping?

Ironically, before the pandemic hit, I had just paid for a new choreography reel. I had created a website (https://www.gabriellekazuko.com/) to better showcase my work after getting inquiries from people who wanted to hire me to perform, but thought my choreography was “traditional Japanese.” I created the website to paint a picture of what it looks like to blend contemporary dance with Asian American theater. It probably won’t serve much use for many months now, oh well! 

Right now, I’m not worried about creatively coping. My creativity is focused on fort-building with my two-year-old and creating delicious, yet healthy, meals for my family with limited grocery-store trips. I’m focusing on the sun on my face when I go for a walk outside, being in the moment while taking care of my baby girls (I have a three-month-old, as well). Dance will be there for me again when the time is right.

What are you most worried about financially?

I recently took a significant salary cut from my day job at Seattle Opera. As social distancing continues for months, not weeks, I’m worried about being laid off completely. This is going to be a long, painful road for arts organizations and artists. I also must acknowledge my privilege as someone with a historically stable source of income, as someone who has not been reliant on the gig economy, and as someone in a dual-earner household. I am very worried. But I must also be grateful for what I have; I have it much, much easier than many of my peers.

What’s giving you strength or keeping you grounded these days?

I feel grounded by thinking of my Japanese American community who survived incarceration during World War II and had no idea how long they would be living in confinement.

Any other thoughts, resources or worries you’d like to share?

Please take social distancing seriously so that we can “flatten the curve,” and dance onstage again, so that our audiences can return, so that our beloved artists and arts organizations can continue their vital work, so that the arts have a fighting chance. Nothing has ever been so important.

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Denise McDonald in Saratoga Springs, NY

How has the coronavirus personally affected your dance practice?

I was in the process of auditing classes (modern and ballet) at Skidmore College as well as observing the rehearsal process of their artist-in-residence for the semester (Caitlin Trainor) who was working with students on creating a piece for the department’s spring concert. I was also beginning an improvisational practice for choreography on my own with prompts supplied by this guest artist. All of this in-person work was canceled, and the school moved to remote learning. Last week was the first week of remote classes.

Although it has been a bit overwhelming and anxiety provoking, I am learning how to use new online tools that can benefit my dance practice in the future. I have felt VERY sad about not being able to take class and interact with students and faculty in person. I feel a significant loss of community and the ability to train at a higher level. The remote learning is definitely helping me with my isolation and lack of a dance community as well as providing training and other movement opportunities, but it is obviously not the same as dancing and creating in person with others. I am very grateful that the department has supported me in continuing to audit during this pandemic.

How are you creatively coping?

Wow. I am still figuring out how to cope creatively. I am making sense of a new set of circumstances, including space, technology, and the emotional weight of the daily challenges of this virus (news, shopping and disinfecting, financial stress, etc.). While taking modern and ballet remotely as an auditor, I am creating a modified training foundation. I am hoping to maintain enough strength and flexibility that will enable me to be physically versatile in my creative dance making.

Having my guest modern instructor record a class for us to learn from helps with connecting emotionally to her and our class. Meeting on Zoom is also a plus. She has also welcomed me to contribute feedback and movement ideas online during the creation and rehearsal process of a modified version of the piece she was making with the students. Once I get a bit more settled into my new routine, I hope to begin generating my own improvisational and choreographic work. I do not have access to a studio so I will move in my living room, on my lawn in the warmer weather, and in parks when people are not nearby. My husband is an amateur photographer, and we have a fun history of going for walks where he records me improvising outside.

Lastly, I am re-configuring a project I launched this past year that is about generating conversations in person and online to meet the needs of adult modern, ballet, and improvisational dancers (college-age to 100+). It is open to people from all over the world and is called Dance Community Conversations. Some opportunities and projects have developed out of these meetings. One of them, Dance for the Planet, invites all types of dancers to join in collective movement experiences to improve our communities and the planet.

Since we are currently isolated at home in this pandemic, Dance for the Planet launched weekly Friday Night Dance Parties on Zoom. We put together a playlist on Spotify with input from attendees and dance for a half hour (and longer if the desire is there). People are invited to use costumes, lighting, decor, etc. to make it fun and creative. Our next dance is Friday, April 10th at 7:00pm EST. The plan is it to have a Friday Night Dance Party every week in the month of April. People can learn more by checking out our Facebook group, Dance Community Conversations, or by emailing me at dancecommunityconversations@gmail.com.

What are you most worried about financially?

I am most worried about things getting worse financially and the government not helping people enough. This not only includes artists but the majority of Americans who have already been struggling with health care costs, debt, etc. I am most worried that our country’s leaders are lacking in compassion and empathy for the hurting and suffering citizens of this country and lack the clarity and courage to do the right thing by its people, including me and my husband.

What’s giving you strength or keeping you grounded these days?

What keeps me grounded is daily meditation and prayer and regular connection with emotionally supportive people, including my husband. To balance me out and uplift me emotionally, I listen to meditative music and watch travel videos and old sketch comedy videos on YouTube. I listen to fun music that makes me happy while I go about my day. I reach out to elderly friends and neighbors to find out how they are and if they need anything. I also get out in nature and watch the plants beginning to break ground in our yard for the spring.  Lastly, I have been getting more in touch with how grateful I am for what I have. It is not all of what I want, but I have so much that is helping me get through the day and supporting me in my dance practice.

Any other thoughts, resources or worries you’d like to share?

I hope that this significant pause in our lives helps me deepen further into who I am as a person and inhabitant of this planet where I gain clarity about my life in ways that will serve me and the greater good. I also hope this happens for all of us. We are running out of time in a lot of areas, especially with regards to making sure our planet is habitable for humanity and all living creatures; it’s essential that we elevate our relationship to everything if we are to survive and flourish.

Photo by Rob Davis

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Malinda LaVelle in Taos, NM

How has the coronavirus personally affected your dance practice?

I am in my final semester of graduate school for dance/movement therapy and counseling. My dance/movement therapy internship at a children’s hospital has been put on hold and it is likely I will not be able to return onsite. My school has been incredibly supportive and proactive, developing alternative ways for us to graduate on time. However, I am grieving the sudden loss of patient relationships and a very crucial culminating piece of my education. It is difficult to accept an incomplete, and expensive, graduate school experience.

How are you creatively coping?

Lots of silliness via bouncing, shaking, rocking, and swaying to an abundance of favorite music.

Otherwise, personally, the last few years have been difficult, and my fatigue has been slowly growing. Suddenly, after tucking it away in a small box buried deep down inside me, this fatigue has permission to release and expand. I can feel the echo of the hustle living inside my body, but the fatigue is commanding me to feel relief. That feels like a strange paradox – relief by force. Also, it somehow feels forbidden to feel relief right now – uncertainty and grief do not mix well with it. Anyhow, I am coping by being slow and quiet, and resisting the influx of messages urging me to use this time to get things done, prepare, make a routine, be creative, respond, and stay engaged. In fact, I feel myself disengaging. I feel like a slippery, thick, murky blob. Or maybe more like a barren, dried up field. I do not know. This is my honest experience – I accept it and am working with it.

What are you most worried about financially?

This question causes a flood of overwhelming thoughts and feelings. It is hard for me to articulate. I am worried on a micro and macro level – for myself, for friends, for family, for communities, for countries…

What’s giving you strength or keeping you grounded these days?

1) It may be cliché, but looking at the big mountains out my window – they are symbols of stability for me.

2) Seeing and understanding human resiliency, resourcefulness, and interdependence in a new way.

3) Humor.

4) Trusting myself.

Any other thoughts, worries, or resources you’d like to share?

My thoughts and concerns about so many things change daily, hourly. There is so much to consider. I guess I am inclined to share a couple of quotes. I like quotes. Here are two of them that feel timely. I read them daily:

1) This one comes from a school reading I revisited: “The major problem of life is learning how to handle the costly interruptions. The door that slams shut, the plan that got sidetracked, the marriage that failed. Or that lovely poem that didn’t get written because someone knocked on the door.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

2) This one continues to resurface over and over again: “If you are invested in security and certainty, you are on the wrong planet.” -Pema Chodron

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The post Coping, Hoping, Creating and Relaxing appeared first on Stance on Dance.

Rebecca Haseltine is a Body-Mind Centering practitioner and teacher in the Bay Area who developed Body Learning, a comprehensive practice of hands-on bodywork, movement therapy, and somatic education. Here, she shares more about the application of Body Learning, including with people with disabilities, and how she supports a spectrum of movement choices.

Photo by Rosie Dienhart

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Can you share with me a little about your personal history – how did you become interested in somatic intelligence?

I was always a mover – running, jumping, climbing, dancing as a kid. I studied dance seriously in college and was dreaming of a dance career. I was interested in the intersection of many disciplines, so I put together a special major including dance, art and science, and was concurrently preparing for a teaching credential.

My dance career was cut short by injuries and by a shift in my personal life; I worked full-time to support my then–husband through law school. After we split, I went straight back to dance.

My intro to Body-Mind Centering (BMC) happened in two ways: I received BMC bodywork to try to heal some of my injuries (some of them from my active childhood), and my main dance teacher brought BMC into her teaching. After applying to grad school in art, with many ambivalences, I called the school for Body-Mind Centering to inquire about their training program, and Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen herself picked up the phone. We talked for half an hour, and at the end of the conversation I knew I would study with her, and with no ambivalence. I’m still practicing BMC daily after 27 years.

How would you describe Body Learning to someone unfamiliar with it?

Body Learning is a somatic approach that includes hands-on bodywork, movement therapy, and movement education. I work with babies, children and adults with a variety of questions, issues and curiosities, but often it is pain that brings the adults to my door, and often it’s concerns of some kind that brings parents with their kids to me. I cultivate long-term relationships with clients and students, and the work we do together will change over time, based on their needs. I usually ask the person what they are interested in, or what they are looking for, and we develop a conversation about how we might work together.

Body Learning is about 95 percent Body-Mind Centering. I say that to people who know what Body-Mind Centering is. The other five percent is work with qi, derived from my practices in Tai Qi, Qi Gong, and other Qi practices.

Photo by Cheryl Leonard

How does your application of Body Learning vary depending on the demographic you are working with?

My work has developed some long branches in certain areas. I started out with a particular vision: to do dance with children with disabilities. I started as a volunteer at the Children’s Movement Center (now closed), became a teacher there, and then ended up teaching at the Bridge School, a school for children with severe physical and verbal impairment. I taught at the Bridge School for 11 years, doing a dance class that also included music, theater, and a lot of ball games. I also taught art there with a multisensory focus.

I also worked privately with children with cerebral palsy for over 10 years. During that time, I encountered kids with sensory processing needs, and I began to develop my work around that particular area and shifted from CP (cerebral palsy) to SPD (sensory processing disorder) as my focus for many years. During that whole time, I also worked with adults who came to me with a variety of concerns, usually pain, movement restriction or neurological challenges.

To answer your question, with the kids with CP I used a multi-sensory approach. It was all exploration and play-based with an emphasis on experiential learning and discovery. We offered sensory and movement experiences to them when they were unable to move themselves. I instigated an approach to supporting movement from an invitational place, rather than a forcing or overpowering place. In the art classes, I instituted a ‘hand under hand’ approach to change the traditional ‘hand over hand’ way of supporting a kid in a manual activity. This was to give the kids more agency during the activity. Private sessions with kids with CP were a combination of hands-on and movement work. With the kids with SPD, it was more play-based using lots of balls, stretchy bands, stretchy suits, etc., and I tailored my sessions to the kid I was working with. With adults, it’s often a hands-on session, usually on a massage table, but sometimes I do movement work with them also.

I also have taught classes in BMC and am now teaching in the BMC training programs. My classes are all experiential with a lot of verbally guided explorations, partnering, time to process and discuss, and also sometimes looking at anatomy books.

As an Infant Development Movement Educator, how might an understanding of embryological or infant movement patterns apply to an adult?

I am applying my understanding of development all the time when I work with adults. Often, I don’t even mention it, but it will emerge in my experience during a hands-on session, where suddenly I feel as though I am holding a baby’s head or an infant’s leg. It helps me focus in a more comprehensive and gentle way. When I do discuss with the client, they often can relate to what I am describing. Our history lives inside us. The embryological, fetal and infant developmental patterns are deeply effective during healing because they can offer us a memory that lives in the body that is pre-trauma. It is a reference point to invite forward to support healing in the present.

Photo by Saliq Savage

Why is knowledge of somatic modalities like Body-Mind Centering important for dance artists?

Dancers are some of the most intelligent people on earth. There is something about working with the body in such a detailed way that they can do almost anything. (I’m not biased or anything!) Becoming more deeply aware in the body always informs dance practice, no matter what the form is. I’m currently teaching ballet teachers, and they are absorbing the BMC material like sponges! Somatic awareness gives us more options, a broader spectrum of available ways to move and, importantly, gives us a multitude of ways to move with more integrated support so we avoid injuries.

From your point of view, do somatic modalities support the social model of disability or the medical model of disability? Or perhaps a new way of looking at disability and ableism?

This is a very interesting question, and I would answer it similarly to my answer to the above question. I feel that when there is disability, (I don’t like that word, but unfortunately that is the current word) there is added intelligence. When there are complications in movement, there is greater attention to how to move, so there is often an appreciation for more options and more support. Somatics offers us a deeper and wider spectrum of choices for movement and inquiry into movement support. So it may be medical, it may be social, you get to choose what your involvement is, and what your expression is.

You are also a visual artist. How does your personal somatic practice and visual art practice inform each other?

My somatic work and my artwork are intimately entwined. My artwork is all body-based, somatics-based, and movement-based. And my individual sessions and classes feel like artwork – they are another expressive form for me.

Photo by Rebecca Haseltine

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To learn more, visit www.bodylearning.net.

The post Supporting a Spectrum of Movement Choices appeared first on Stance on Dance.

BY EMMALY WIEDERHOLT

Marybeth Weinstock has a PhD in Clinical Psychology, a Master’s degree in Dance/Movement Therapy, and has been practicing since the 1980s. She currently lives in Pacific Grove, California where she runs a private practice, though she has lived and worked on both coasts in a variety of settings. In this interview, she shares the ins and outs of dance/movement therapy and why she sees it as a transformative mode of therapy.

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How did you enter the world of dance therapy?

I started dancing when I was a kid; I studied both musical theater and ballet. When I was an undergrad at Goucher College in the 70s, my dance history professor showed Janet Adler’s film “Looking for Me,” as well as a film on Anna Halprin’s San Francisco Dancers’ Workshop when she was experimenting with race relations through dance. I sat there with my mouth hanging open after both films. I knew this was what I wanted to do with my life. I previously couldn’t decide what my major should be: dance, theater, education or psychology. When I found there was a perfect melding of my interests and that I could actually help people through my beloved art form, I was astounded. I spoke with my dance teachers and psych professors about it, and they found me an amazing internship with Arlynne Stark, one of the mothers of dance/movement therapy.

How would you describe dance movement therapy to someone unfamiliar with it?

Much like art, music and drama therapy, dance therapy focuses on the healing aspects of the art form. There are many ways in which we communicate through movement, and there are also many ways in which we can improve our mood and relationships through movement.

Dance/movement therapy is a form of psychotherapy. Practitioners have studied psychological theory and clinical psychology the same way any psychotherapist has, but additionally we have studied how movement and non-verbal communication can be applied. However, it’s creative movement, which is different than somatic therapy. It’s not just about moving the body; it’s about moving the body in a way that expresses oneself. It can be done individually or in groups. There are many applications for many different diagnoses.

Is dance/movement therapy marginalized among other therapy modalities?

For sure, though not as much as it once was. The American Dance Therapy Association just celebrated its 50th anniversary last year. When I moved to northern California 25 years ago, I found dance/movement therapy had a greater presence in psychiatric facilities on the East Coast. That has been slowly changing, with shifts in licensure challenges.

That being said, dance/movement therapy is marginalized the way all art forms are. Art and dance have been seen as less important in certain circles, even if they provide a highly effective means of healing. I’ve always found this startling. Part of the problem might be there isn’t as much evidence based research available as cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). When what is considered “evidence” shifted from more qualitative means to quantification, methodologies (such as CBT) that already provided numbers had a leg up to “prove” their efficacy.

What do you perceive are some of the strengths of dance/movement therapy?

My specialty has been working with people who have acute and chronic psychiatric diagnoses, and many of them have a very difficult time being verbal. Using nonverbal means can be highly effective; 85 percent or more of what we communicate to others is nonverbal. The fact that dance/movement therapy is nonverbal can be helpful for both the patient and therapist. As a therapist, I can bypass a lot of defenses that are encased in verbal habits. People can hide much more easily behind their words than behind their movement. Movement is an easy access to expression.

In my practice, we do a lot of mirroring, which correlates with Carl Rogers’ form of psychotherapy. Every therapist has to be able to reflect back to their patient what they’ve just heard them say; it’s a necessary skill. Dance/movement therapists get to do that through movement. To me, that’s one of dance/movement therapy’s greatest strengths, that I can feel at times what it feels like to be the person I’m working with.

Boundaries are an issue for so many people in terms of relationship. Through movement, people can start to discern bodily boundaries. If you can feel something in your body beyond just having an intellectual experience, you’re more likely to be effective at changing your life. We know about neuroplasticity now, that people can actually change the synapses in their brains. But you can’t do that just through speech; you have to do that through the whole nervous system. The central nervous system has to be stimulated in order to make changes in the brain.

What do you perceive are some of the weaknesses of dance movement therapy?

Sometimes I have to call it just “movement” because the word “dance” scares people. I commonly work with people who have eating disorders. People with eating disorders often don’t even want to be in their bodies, so saying the word “dance” can be terrifying. Or, conversely, they think they’re going to burn calories. I have to be judicious about the words I use. I’m not just going to put on music and ask people to dance in front of me. That’s terrifying to most people. I have to use means that feel less scary.

I also commonly work with people who have trauma. Anybody who has been through physical or sexual trauma is at odds with their body and will have a hard time with certain stimuli. I have to be very careful about that as well. However, I wouldn’t say that’s a weakness of the technique, but just one of the challenges. I don’t think there are any weaknesses per se. Dance/movement therapy can be used with so many populations. Because of its nature, any psychotherapeutic orientation can be applied to it.

Can you tell me about your Creative Transition workshop? How did it come together?

When I was in my doctoral program, I took a class on human development. Most development classes stop at childhood or adolescence, but this particular class went into the psychology of young adulthood, middle age and seniors. When the instructor was talking about midlife and what happens to women in particular, my jaw was on the ground. There were so many things happening to me I hadn’t attributed to going through the transition of midlife. It was wonderful to hear it spoken about so openly. I ended up focusing my dissertation on the topic of women aging.

In the following years, while I was taking classes at Anna Halprin’s Mountain Home Studio, Taira Restar and I had the idea of doing workshops together for women transitioning into midlife. Together, we embarked on a series of workshops over the course of two or three years called Creative Transition: Women in Midlife Converse Through Dance. On average, we had ten women in each daylong workshop. Many of the workshops took place on beaches and in woods, as well as in Anna’s studio. Having space to acknowledge our wisdom and kvetch about our aches and pains was powerful. The cumulative shared knowledge was mind-blowing. It felt like we delved into sacred ground.

Looking forward, in which direction do you think you’ll expand your work?

I plan on expanding my private practice, leading groups, teaching dance classes, as well as hosting the Creative Transition workshops again. I also want to continue dancing in this body of mine, being in communion with my own body and honoring what it can and can’t do now.

Any other thoughts?

I studied with Alwin Nikolais, Murray Louis and Hanya Holm when I was a young dancer in New York City. I can’t express how amazing it was to be at the feet of such masters. What I learned from them continues to flow through my work. Anna Halprin’s work was similarly influential. Passing along their legacies to those I work with feels very important to me.

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To learn more about Marybeth’s work, visit www.CreativeTransition.net.

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Why did you decide to go into physical therapy? Was it based in your experience in dance?

My experience with physical therapy (PT) started when I was 14. I developed tendinitis and bursitis in both my hips. My young age and the overuse of my hips from dancing about eight hours a day at a summer ballet school was not an ideal combination. In addition to resting from dance, I tried PT for several weeks. Since I was not making any progress with PT, my mom took me to see her Pilates instructor. Within a few Pilates sessions, I was able to relax my hips and let my core musculature support the movement at my pelvis, decreasing my hip pain. My positive experience with Pilates later led me to pursue a certification in Pilates after I finished my degree in modern dance. I taught Pilates for about a year before reaching a roadblock in my knowledge of the human body.  This was when I decided to pursue my doctorate in physical therapy. I spent two years teaching Pilates while taking my prerequisites for PT school. I have been working as a PT for nearly a year now.

How can a background in dance aid in a better understanding of physical therapy?

My background in dance has helped me to empathize more with my patients. I connect with each patient’s personal goals and work with the patient to formulate functional and practical goals for rehab. Dancing helps me to see a patient’s form and to kinesthetically feel their form in my own body. I then apply different learning tools – visual, tactile and verbal – to assist each patient in performing a movement with improved biomechanical alignment and form. My dance experiences have enabled me to think more creatively; I always ask for feedback and provide modifications for patients if an exercise is too easy or difficult. Since I am passionate about movement, I am an advocate of “motion is lotion.” I encourage patients to get back to moving, whether it be the simple act of turning one’s head to look side to side or returning to jogging or swimming as a recreational form of exercise.

Vice versa, how can an understanding of physical therapy aid in a more comprehensive knowledge of dance?

My education in physical therapy has made me more acutely aware of the relationship between the mind and the body. I have seen many patients who are limited in their movement due to fear, pain avoidance or depression. These psychosocial factors can play a huge role in the pain cycle, feeding into lack of overall movement. Recognizing this behavior, providing encouragement as appropriate, and helping enable my patients to be more self-sufficient has helped me to become more confident as a person and a dancer. I am better able to recognize my own struggles and fears and to acknowledge and confront them through dance. On the other hand, I am better able to appreciate the gift of dancing and the body that I have been blessed with.

What sorts of pains and stresses (both physical and psychological) have you often seen in patients?

Pain can be caused by biomechanical faults, overuse of a particular joint or muscle, or even disuse.  Pain is perceived by each patient differently and causes limitations in his/her daily life. These limitations cause more pain to circulate, creating a vicious cycle for patients. This same cycle is present for all patients, no matter if they are postoperative, suffering from back pain due to poor body mechanics at their job, or recovering from an autoimmune disease. Often the first step to breaking the pain cycle is to acknowledge each patient’s pain. Once his/her voice is heard, I then offer tools that can equip the patient when facing his/her pain. I challenge each patient to complete several exercises at home on their own. This simple act of giving homework to my patients puts them in charge of their success with therapy, and oftentimes leads to self-satisfaction and reduction in pain.

What does well-being look like?

I perceive well-being as a balanced relationship between the mind, body and spirit.  If one of those dimensions is struggling, it won’t be long until the other two suffer as well. Consideration of the whole person is integral in healthcare. Connecting to each person and understanding what he/she values is vital to one’s healthy recovery.

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Abbey Richard‘s dancing background began in the Ozarks at The Springfield Ballet and Ozark Area Dance Academy. Later, she received a BFA in modern dance and minored in arts administration from Texas Christian University. After college, Abbey became a fully certified STOTT Pilates instructor and taught several years in Texas and Missouri. She also became an active performer/choreographer in the Springfield Dance Alliance. She received her doctorate in physical therapy from Southwest Baptist University, and is now working at Peak Sport and Spine in Columbia, MO. When Abbey is not dancing and rehabilitating patients, she is passionate about spending time with her family and friends, especially while hiking, biking, canoeing, doing yoga, and cooking.  

Photos courtesy Springfield Dance Alliance and Jessica Miller

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Self-care is usually prescribed to relax, calm down and escape the hard work we endure (or impose upon ourselves) on a daily basis. A lot of the time, we utilize other people or practitioners to do this healing for us. We schedule to get a massage and leave without wondering how our bodies are a mirror for the emotions that build over the course of a workweek or even a lifetime.

One morning when I was in sixth grade, I woke up to the home I grew up in with my mother to see it burning down. For the following year, my mom sent me to all kinds of healers with the hope of undoing some of the trauma from the experience. I was lucky enough to receive craniosacral therapy, massage, acupuncture and chiropractic in conjunction with my dance training. Maybe this is when I began my personal journey of questioning how bodies are the containers that store emotional histories.

Years later, I was introduced to a form of bodywork that I had never heard of before: Rolfing® Structural Integration. The founder of this work, Dr. Ida P Rolf, applied her extensive knowledge of biochemistry with other wellness approaches including osteopathy, yoga, chiropractic, Alexandertechnique and Alfred H.S. Korzybski’s study of consciousness. She discovered that by manipulating the fascia, or connective tissue, not only would a person’s physical structure change, but there were concurrent shifts in the emotional and spiritual bodies as well.

When I initially experienced my first 10 session series of Rolfing (the traditional protocol), it felt like a strange unpeeling of the masks I had collected and used to avoid the more vulnerable parts of myself. Through accessing deep untouched parts of my physical body, I was forced to feel and confront in myself much pain, angst, sorrow and anger. But because I had an amazing practitioner guiding me and supporting me through these “unwanted” feelings, I felt safe enough to head into them and see how they informed the way I carried myself. I still struggle with old patterns, but I like to think that I have more access to dropping into my own truth. I’m not afraid of engaging with the more challenging parts of myself because I know it will only lead to deeper personal growth, or maybe a broader perspective and more subtle understanding of our collective experience.

After my first sessions, I knew this was what I needed to study and practice. I wanted everyone I knew to feel the same remarkable sensations I had, especially dancers. To think we all have tremendous vaults of experience to draw from when making movement choices! How could this impact dance education, shifting it from imitation or shape-making into a more personal, creative and ultimately healing process?

How does Rolfing essentially work? What Rolfing is known for is the consideration of the entire structure of the body being out of balance with gravity, bringing on certain symptoms that can become chronic if not addressed. For instance, a man comes in with the main goal of addressing his chronic sciatica. I try to see the client as a “whole.” Upon first glance, where are the most obvious imbalances structurally? What language is he using relative to his physical experience? I look for the physical misalignments and their energetic/emotional correlations to find the meaning that holds them together.

What makes the work most successful is if the client is as equally engaged as I am in the exploration and conversation during and after the sessions. Most of the time, people are disconnected from their bodies and just feel and identify with “having sciatica” without realizing that they are clenching their jaws or pushing their pelvises forward of their feet. These subtler, underlying postural sensations become solidified as normal when a habit is held long enough, making it difficult to bring the clients’ awareness back.

By working to soften and reorganize the connective tissue, or fascia, we are literally dealing with the person’s physical armor, layers upon layers of “keeping it together” muscularly and emotionally. These barriers, though temporarily effective, mask the core issues that fester and can cause long-term manifestations of “dis-ease”. Consider the extra effort that is required to resist pain. It throws off the whole body’s sense of balance, complicating multiple levels of efficiency in the body.

Rolfing challenges old habits, ultimately threatening the pins that have held them together. Often this part of the work is perceived as painful. I think the pain is part of the holding, or maybe the remaining trauma from whatever injury or incident initially triggered the nervous system. It’s a dance between the practitioner and client to find the appropriate level of communication to help clear the blockage. I like to invite my clients to meet me with their breath, or expand through the pain, inhabiting that part of themselves. It takes courage to be present with vulnerability and discomfort, but the only way to expel it is to live in it and through it. When it’s done well, Rolfing can go beyond the manual therapy that we traditionally know as deep bodywork, and move more toward an unraveling of the unabashed truths that are stored within each person’s body.

Aline Wachsmuth is a Certified Rolfer and business owner of True Balance Rolfing® in Marin County, CA. She trained at the Rolf Institute® of Structural Integration in Boulder, Colorado. She also dances professionally with Alex Ketley’s company, The Foundry. She recently became a new mom, and looks forward to learning more about bodywork for babies. For more information about Aline’s private practice, visit her website: www.truebalancerolfing.com.

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BY ANNIE AGUILAR

After I came back from the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance last summer in 2013, I left all my local dance studios to commute to Sacramento for a preprofessional atmosphere. For one semester I commuted sometimes three hours a day and then quit quite suddenly after Nutcracker was over.

I was sick. I was sick with four years of sprinting to a finish line in an unknown location. I had worked myself too hard and fed myself too little, both literally and metaphorically. My skinny arms and legs showed no resemblance to my once super muscular and healthy body. And I lost control of my mind, also. Every thought I had was directed at finding a way to deteriorate myself.

I quit dancing, got help, began eating more, became addicted to Bikram yoga, injured myself, felt hopeless, then I found Ashtanga and Hatha yoga. My new yoga practice has healed my body physically and spiritually. My heart feels fuller.

I am committed to Middlebury College in Vermont, but am deferring for one year. During this “gap-year,” I will complete a yoga teacher training program in Cuzco, Peru. After the program, I will stay in Cuzco and attend a language school. Then I head to Bolivia to work for an ethical, fair trade manufacturing company and at a youth education center. Finally, I will go down to Chile to work on an excursion ranch. I am headed off by myself to take on the big world!

I didn’t miss dance during the first couple months of this break. I even discovered that I had a lot of pent up resentment. Whenever I took a Pilates class and did an exercise resembling anything remotely similar to ballet, I would become instantly angry and emotional. However, now that nine months have passed… I miss it. I miss dancing.

I know that I am going to come back to dance. I think I will even pursue it as a minor in college. I still love it. We had a bad break up. I needed time to heal, and now I’m ready to try again. A creative outlet will be good for me because I think I want to double major in Pre-Med and Spanish.

And when I return to dancing, I will have all this new life experience and insight to bring! I will try and remember to laugh every day. I’ve discovered the easiest way to let go of frustration is to find something to smile about.

Through all of this recent self-discovery, it finally occurred to me that with this one life I have, I want to spend it the way I WANT to…not the way I believe I have to. Dance somehow became forced, and that’s when I began to get sick. During recovery, I realized how much I sincerely missed all my family and friends that I had nearly been blind to when I was dancing. So, I decided to establish a new intention in life: to connect with people. I think that no matter what I’m doing, as long as I open my heart to others, I will feel good.

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Dr. Stephen Pruden has been in chiropractic practice for 30 years and has offices in Manhattan and Long Island, New York. It is a family practice that features sports care, particularly for dancers, runners and golfers. The practice also uses a multi-disciplinary approach incorporating acupuncture, nutrition, naturopath and the medical arts. I contacted him to learn more about how chiropractic can provide balance and care.

Emmaly Wiederholt: What sorts of stress (both physical and psychological) do you see most often in your patients?

Dr. Stephen Pruden: The most common physical stresses are repetitive in origin in that they wear on the same body parts over and over. They tend to adversely affect posture, making every physical task more difficult than it has to be, starting with standing. For some this is a sedentary problem, which often leads to back and neck pain, and for others this may be repetitive impact on feet, legs and hips, as with a dancer or someone who stands on a sales floor all day.

The psychological stress I see most frequently seems to be from our insistence on trying to do too many tasks in a single day. This time stress leads to poor food choices and a frequent dehydrated state that taxes the adrenal glands and is worsened by a lack of quality sleep.

EW: Does chiropractic care help remedy these stresses, and, if so can you elaborate?

SP: Effective chiropractic care needs to go beyond the spinal aspect of musculoskeletal care and look at balancing the whole body. Failure to balance the feet and gait abnormalities will undermine the best efforts to correct a back or pelvic problem. Also, the doctor must realize that these imbalances have likely caused the head to tilt effecting the neck and jaw. Of course, the addition of nutritional counseling, supportive stretches and exercises, and lifestyle changes, like ergodynamics of the work place or a better sleep posture, are all essential to the alleviation of the stress.

EW: How do you personally navigate between work and care?

SP: The work has quite a bit of physical demand for which I must remain fit. I have to “walk the walk”, stretching, exercising, and getting the right nutrition so that the work is enjoyable and not creating my own repetitive injuries to the back or wrists. Fortunately, the interaction with patients and their extended families and friends is very social and I find that enjoyable, softening the demands of a long day. I also need to seek the help of other practitioners on my own behalf. Of course some fun with my family helps the balance immensely.

EW: What does well-being look like?

SP: Well-being is an ease with which one can stand and move in a balanced, almost effortless way using the least amount of energy to stand, sit or walk. It’s the ability to recover from an upsetting situation rather quickly or the ability to sleep deeply enough to awake refreshed from a physically demanding day. The physical and psychological are always entwined and they must both be looked after to create well-being.

For more information on Dr. Stephen Pruden’s practice, visit www.drpruden.com.

Drawing by Maggie Stack

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As a dancer, I have chosen to pursue a career in physical therapy. I know that dance will always be a part of me; wherever I go, I am a dancer first. However, I have found that in a lot of ways physical therapy can be just as much if not more rewarding than dance. Physical therapists (PTs) are the movement experts of the healthcare world – we often know more about the musculoskeletal system then the general practitioner doctor. Because of our unique position in healthcare, we have the opportunity to really spend time with our patients, listen to their concerns and advocate for them and their needs. We restore movement back to our patients. Because we are beings that thrive on motion, physical therapy restores to patients a big part of what it is to be human.

This past summer I worked with patients in chronic pain. Treating patients with chronic pain is not necessarily about removing an individual’s pain. Rather, it is about educating individuals to better understand their pain. One thing that is important for patients to understand is the difference between good pain and bad pain. Good pain often results from exercise whereas bad pain is the chronic pain that can send a person into a cycle of hurt for days. In some cases, our patients cannot get out of bed some mornings. We educate them to have a physical routine that they can do regardless of whether they are having a good day, bad day or okay day with their chronic pain. This gives patients a sense of empowerment, something physical that they can do to get themselves going without the fear of exacerbating their chronic pain. Often for these patients it is the fear of worsening pain that keeps them from getting up and moving. But it is also this fear of worsening the pain that sends them into a cycle.

One of the patients that left an impression on me was a 35-year-old women who injured herself at age 20 when she slipped on some pajama bottoms after a shower. From that day on she has had chronic low back pain that has kept her from going to work and doing things a normal 35-year-old does. She walked in with a side legged posture and waddled from side to side with every step. Her motions were slow and guarded, more like motions you would see in an 80-year-old than that of a 35-year-old. She had struggled with this condition for over 15 years and had seen a number of specialists and therapists. She had been seeing a Pilates trainer weekly until a recent setback prevented her from doing her weekly training sessions. She said to us that she had probably done every lumbar stabilization exercise that existed, and we agreed that she probably knew most of the exercises out there. But we took the exercises that she knew from Pilates and adapted them in a way so that she could accomplish them regardless of her pain level. This was empowering for her, knowing that that there was something she could do even when she was feeling her absolute worst. She had an extremely bright attitude about her pain; she remained optimistic that it was something she could manage.

This woman wanted to spend most of her days painting. Generally she would paint for 20 minutes before the pain became unbearable. Then she would lie down, and she would cycle through this routine all day long.

I remember one session where we modified her position while she painted. Simple modifications included putting one foot up on a stool to unload the spine, placing the canvas closer and having the brushes in front of her rather than to the side so she wouldn’t have to twist to get to them. As a result, she was able to paint for 30 minutes instead of 20.

This is an example of how we as PTs help to remedy a patient’s pain. We may not take away the pain entirely, but if we can help the person do what they want to do for longer and with less pain, then we have restored some of that person’s independence. We have given them more control. This is our ultimate goal: that our patients may be able to do more of what they want to do.

Whether it is dancing or painting, chronic pain or an acute injury, I’ve learned how physical therapy can restore and rejuvenate. There are enough things in the world that keep us from doing what we want to do, and if possible, pain shouldn’t be one of them. Physical therapy helps make that a reality.

Virginia Fung is currently studying Physical Therapy at Columbia University. She is originally from San Francisco.

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KimLien LaFitte is a certified Structural Integrator and Pilates instructor based in Durham, North Carolina. I contacted her to learn more about how Structural Integration can provide balance and care.

Emmaly Wiederholt: What sorts of stress (both physical and psychological) do you see most often in your patients?

KimLien LaFitte: I see clients of all ages and all levels of fitness. I mainly work with the fascial system and I believe most disorders, syndromes and injury can be linked back to imbalances in the myofascial web. Tightness and adhesions in an area can lead to compensations in movement and that can then create imbalances in strength, flexibility and mobility. This can also be in reverse however, where weakness may cause overuse of another area.

I see clients with joint injuries, joint replacements, muscle tears and strains, tendonitis, scar tissue adhesions, back pain, headaches and mysterious pain that no one can seem to locate or understand. The list is pretty exhaustive, but mostly my work right now is in pain relief. I work with a few different Physical Therapists that need a manual practitioner to help release fascial tightness so that they may help their patients move without pain.

Physical pain and stress can increase emotional and psychological stress and that can become a never ending feedback loop. Then again, emotional and psychological stress will cause physical stress. It is hard to know which comes first in most cases and it doesn’t really matter, but part of permanent healing comes from addressing all areas. I guide my clients into being aware that these areas are all related, but I do not counsel my clients. I have other practitioners and doctors I refer to for the psychological element if necessary. Most of my clients are aware when they come in that they have to work on all aspects of the body/mind. I think this is because Structural Integration is considered a bit of a “fringe” or alternative healing – which is kind of funny because it’s heavily weighted in standard anatomy, but the fascia has been a bit of a mystery in the past. Much more scientific research is being done now though.

EW: Does Structural Integration help remedy these stresses, and if so can you elaborate?

KL: Structural Integration works with the fascial system in a series of sessions to address any issues in the body. By always looking at how the layers and territory of the body are connected and in relationship to each other, we are able to help open up and rebalance the fascial web. Beyond that, we educate our clients on how to become more aware of habits that contribute to imbalances and how to begin self-correction. I feel part of our job when we work with clients is to hold them somewhat accountable from session to session through the series.

I was trained in a brand of Structural Integration called Kinesis Myofascial Integration (KMI), taught by Thomas Myers. One of the most well-known schools is The Rolf Institute, but there are many other schools and each has its own brand. SI was developed by Ida Rolf and later the term “Rolfing” came along. It’s important for the public to know that Structural Integration is very different than massage therapy and it is important to research and interview your SI practitioner to make sure they are a good fit for you. As a client, do your research and get referrals.

For more information on SI series, visit www.anatomytrains.com and look for the “KMI” link. For more information on Ida Rolf and Rolfing, visit www.rolf.org.

EW: How do you personally navigate between work and care?

KL: I can only see a certain amount of clients per day and per week.  This makes it hard sometimes to be financially secure, but it means I’m able to give my clients a well-rested and nourished practitioner as I do not get physically and emotionally drained. I have to have really good boundaries to be able to say no when my schedule is full for weeks ahead and clients want to get in sooner.

I also teach Pilates and I use Pilates as one way to take care of my own body. I get bodywork or acupuncture just about monthly, and yes, I even manage to structurally integrate myself sometimes. I make sure my home is a place of peace, happiness, and restfulness and laughter. All this helps nourish and regenerate me so I can be grounded and stable to do my work effectively.

EW: What does well-being look like?

KL: To me, when I see a person who looks well balanced, I see an ease in the way they move and how they are just being in that space at that time. This can look different depending on the personality of the person. Some people look lifted, some people look settled. I guess it’s more of a congruency in their mind, body and energy. It’s also how I feel in their presence. Like all the pieces are in the right configuration. I get a sense of harmony.

We live in a time of doing, doing, doing, going, going, going. It’s crazy. I don’t see a lot of well-being in my work because most of my clients are pretty far into falling apart by the time I see them. So maybe well-being looks like taking care of yourself before you fall apart? That being said, I’m always impressed and grateful for the levity with which most of my clients approach some pretty serious injuries. Maybe that’s part of well-being also – how people handle adversity.

Learn more about KimLien and her work at www.bodysystemintegration.com.

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