Listening with My Hands

One of the most important aspects of my work is listening—not just with my ears, but with my hands.

When I work with a patient, I’m observing how all the parts of the body move together. I’m paying attention to where movement flows easily, where it becomes restricted, and where unnecessary effort interferes with what should be a simple, natural action.

Sometimes, despite our best intentions, we simply cannot let go of habitual patterns of movement. Even when we become aware of what we’re doing, something deeper seems to keep those patterns in place.

A recent session with my patient Alex illustrates this beautifully.

When Effort Gets in the Way

Alex was lying on the Feldenkrais table, exploring a simple movement: rolling his pelvis to the right.

As I observed him, I noticed a tremendous amount of unnecessary effort coming from the left side of his pelvis. Instead of allowing the movement to happen smoothly, he was recruiting muscles and creating tension that didn’t need to be there.

I tried directing his attention to different aspects of the movement, helping him become more aware of what he was doing. But no matter how I guided him, the excessive effort remained.

He understood what I was asking, but his body continued to respond in its familiar way.

This is something I see frequently in my practice. We develop habitual patterns of movement over many years, often without realizing it. These patterns can become so deeply ingrained that simply trying harder—or even consciously trying to relax—doesn’t change them.

Listening to What the Body Needs

Rather than continuing to work with the movement, I decided to take a different approach.

We moved to the craniosacral table, where I began a session of Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy.

Through gentle, attentive contact, I listened with my hands to the subtle movements and tensions within his body.

I became aware of what we call an inertial fulcrum in the left side of his pelvis—an area where the body’s natural movement and organization seemed to be held in a fixed pattern.

As I continued the work, that fulcrum gradually began to fade. The holding pattern softened, and I could sense a change in how his pelvis was organizing itself.

There was no need to force anything or instruct Alex to move differently. The change emerged through the process itself.

A Different Kind of Movement

We returned to the Feldenkrais table, and I asked Alex to roll his pelvis to the right again.

This time, something remarkable happened.

The unnecessary effort was gone.

His pelvis rolled smoothly and easily, without the extra muscular activity that had been interfering with the movement just minutes earlier.

But something even more important had changed.

Alex now knew what he was doing. He could sense the movement clearly and intentionally move in the direction he wanted to go.

He wasn’t struggling to make his body cooperate. The movement had become natural, coordinated, and effortless.

The Whole Body Responds

When Alex stood up, the difference was immediately apparent.

He stood erect, his chest open and wide, his head balanced comfortably over his torso.

He felt taller. Wider. More at ease in his body.

As he walked around the room, his pelvis moved freely, allowing his legs to glide along without the restrictions and compensations that had been present before.

He felt much better.

What began as a simple exploration of pelvic movement had become a change in how he experienced his entire body.

Why I Integrate These Approaches

This experience illustrates why I don’t view the Feldenkrais Method and Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy as separate, unrelated techniques.

They complement one another beautifully.

The Feldenkrais Method helps us discover how we move, recognize habitual patterns, and explore new possibilities through awareness.

Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy offers another way of listening to the body, working with subtle patterns of tension and supporting the body’s inherent capacity for self-regulation.

Sometimes movement and awareness are enough to create change. Other times, as with Alex, the nervous system seems to need a different kind of support before a new movement becomes available.

By integrating these approaches, I can respond to what the individual needs rather than trying to fit every patient into the same treatment.

For me, that’s the essence of listening with my hands.

It’s not about imposing a correction on the body. It’s about paying attention, recognizing what’s getting in the way, and creating the conditions in which the body can discover a more comfortable, efficient way of functioning.

And when that happens, the results can extend far beyond the original movement.

There can be a sense of freedom, ease, and renewed confidence in one’s own body.

That’s what makes this work so rewarding.