No Fixed Points - A Lesson On Flow

I always tease my husband about being like a well worn rock – the way things run over him like water no matter what’s going on. Most of the time, I am more like the random floating tree limb, constantly bobbing around the rock, bouncing off of it, sometimes settling, but inevitably looking for the next place to land, the next fixed point (a planned destination of course.) Lucky for us, we strike a lovely balance most of the time. We find a flow.

Except when we don’t. Then my bumping around goes something like this: “You’ve got to be doing something. What are you moving toward? Where is this leading? What’s the goal? Shouldn’t you be trying to be something? Move forward. Don’t be apathetic. Don’t waste time.” To this end it’s insidious.

You may know this feeling. Bumpy water can also be worry, doubt, fear, perfection (hah!), lack of motivation (this would be a slow muddy like bumping around). Anyway, you get the idea. If we are striving for a million fixed points, the pushing comes from inside. If we are worried or doubtful, the fixed points tend to bump up against us – the pushing seemingly coming from everywhere else.

Lately, though, with things in the world constantly and rapidly changing, fixed points out in the distance don’t really exist. Pretty much what we can set our radars by are the things right in front of us. For the rest, we just have to jump in and try not to get battered against the rocks. The less we resist the less tension there is, the more effective our efforts, the more we flow, the better the ride.

In Pilates flow is a fundamental concept. Flowing movement, control, balance, centering, rhythm are all underlying principles of what we are ultimately trying to achieve by moving with awareness. It’s efficiency, the balance of effort and ease.

In the body, it’s the same thing. When we apply too much effort, more than is necessary for the muscles to achieve the given movement goal, the excess effort is stored as tension.
Tension creates immobility and inflexibility. When the body becomes too fixed or rigid there is no room for adaptation, no ability to flow. The only other option then is to apply more and more effort to achieve simpler and simpler movements and then there is pain and ultimately injury.

A popular sentiment lately is that we humans have to be pressed up against the very edge, forced to stand on the precipice before we change. For me this is proving to be relatively true. The bigger the changes the more I am aware that flow is necessary, that adaptability is critical, ease is vital. Because if I can’t enjoy the ride what’s the point.