Push-me-pull-you & Other Figments of Intention

There is a certain feeling that besets a fellow on the freeway the minute he realizes that he never disengaged the parking brake after leaving the garage... better suffer this feeling than fail to notice altogether.

Lamentably, analogous circumstances arise in our bodies all the time. Patterns of tension & inhibition contend one against the other & conspire against our conscious intention—every step represents a sixty-forty split, with a substantial portion of our effort squandered simply to overcome our own sub-consciously habituated resistance, to function on the remnant 20 percent capacity is a tall order. In a Volkswagen, to barrel down the highway with our feet on both pedals is to encourage a hasty demise of the car's mechanics. But in this case, we just order new brake pads from Europe & frack wildlife refuges to compensate for the extra fuel expenditure. However, even a Physical Therapist can't provide a replacement for a worn-out Achilles tendon. We only get one body, and we gamble with its longevity every time we execute a movement with intention, thus fragmented against itself.

If I take a step, does the bottommost piece of my posterior chain mutiny against the mission of everything above it? Does my soleus resist the forward step, pushing back against the body's natural course? Then, I am operating with all the efficiency of a Yemenesian bureaucracy. It's tantalizing to take a hatchet to it. Or a (gentle) elbow. Or whatever tool is best suited to invite optimal coherence in the body as a movement system? This is The Way of the Elbow. "How can this movement be easier?" must be our constant koan. There are plenty of difficulties & challenges in life; we don't need to generate more through senselessly deleterious biomechanics.

For a movement that is lithe, blithe, & unencumbered, call The Way of the Elbow today!

Comic of the push-me-pull-you metaphore.