A fundamental dysfunction in my biomechanics is often what I perceive in the transitional state between sleep and wakefulness, when my body is deeply relaxed and gradually regaining the ability to move, I become acutely aware of the most profound aspects of both bliss and dysfunction within my neuromuscular system. I can feel my nervous system and all the tissues with crystal-clear interoception, inner awareness. This particular state is my favourite for observing the intricacies of the body because it consistently provides a deeper intellectual understanding to accompany the somatic experience.

I also have a similar, although not as pronounced, experience during my yoga sessions. It is towards this state that I continually direct my journey.

So many obvious gems wash up to the shore, and I eagerly leap out of bed, proclaiming that this newfound inspiration will be the subject of my next article. Yet, as I start to write, I become acutely aware of how my language falls woefully short of encapsulating the richness of this experience. In my frustration, I briefly entertain the idea of pursuing a career in medicine, thinking that perhaps a deeper vocabulary of the human body and its intricacies would provide me with the right words to convey the experience. 

However, soon I reconsider; I realise that this is not the path meant for me and most of us don’t need the clutter of language, we need felt experience. This is why Im a Yoga teacher and I sit down, much like I am today, and make the conscious choice to attempt to convey this profound experience using the words I do know, infused with a touch of poetry of motion. My hope is that through this endeavour, I can inspire in you, dear reader, a similar understanding of the beauty and depth of the moment of deep observation and how helpful it is to be in continual dialogue with the physical form. Shall we begin?

This is about core activation, and it’s an inquiry I’ve been pursuing for awhile now. My core, it seems, is not engaged as it should be. Somewhere along the path, perhaps after childbirth, amid surgeries on my uterus, influenced by genetic factors and lifestyle choices, my core has become disengaged. Instead, I’ve delegated the task of stabilization to other parts of my body. For many, including myself and numerous students, the most apparent destination for this newfound responsibility is the back body. The back muscles pick up the slack and, over time, become overworked and stressed.

Now, let’s delve into the newly noticed strategy my body has devised to establish stability in the front body. When the need to move arises, I unconsciously take a breath and hold it before initiating the movement. Initially, this peculiar behaviour left me puzzled, and uncertain about what was unfolding. However, in the journey from sleep to waking, I’ve come to realize that it serves as a method my body employs to create stability in the front body, supporting the necessary movement.

This ingenuity of my body arises from a necessity as my back can no longer shoulder the continuous burden of being both the reference point for stability and the source of mobility. Yet, I am keenly aware that this is yet another manifestation of referred dysfunction. It affects my breathing pattern and places undue pressure on organs that should ideally remain undisturbed behind a strong, active core.

To illustrate this point, I devised an exercise that not only highlights the issue but also demonstrates the correct way to perform it, a potential remedy. While sitting in my chair, I take a deep breath in, expanding my chest. Then, I use this inflated space to attempt to roll over and push off. If you were to try it, you’d notice there’s minimal core activation in this approach.

Next, I try a different method, focusing on continuous movement during exhalation. It involves a series of front-body engagements that cascade down into the powerful quadriceps thigh muscles. Ah-ha! This is where proper mechanics come into play. I repeat each method and carefully observe the final stance I achieve – standing. Specifically, I examine how each method of moving informs the eventual position of standing, akin to the yoga pose Tadasana.

The two Tadasana poses appear markedly distinct. In the first one, it’s clear that dysfunction prevails. My weight seems to hinge within the spine, with the thoracolumbar joint (T12/L1) taking the brunt of this stress. Simultaneously, my pelvis tilts forward, and my belly protrudes, resulting in an exaggerated lumbar arch and an overall misalignment of the spine. The second standing position appears more contained, with the muscles responsible for initiating the movement remaining active in supporting the entire frame including the front body.  The spine is in a more obvious neutral position. 

And now, the exciting journey begins! It’s all about the continuous observation of this intriguing breath-holding pattern and the exploration of methods to reignite those core muscles. This has become the captivating trajectory of my practice.

As for the specifics, I’m brimming with curiosity about how this path will unfold. I’m gearing up to incorporate yoga techniques that promise to bring stability to my practice, and I’m diving into the world of Pilates movements to inform my core muscle development. This exciting adventure combines the best of both worlds, and I’m excited to see where it takes me on my quest for a stronger, more engaged core.

As with all of these pioneering journeys into the deep somatic inner space, I am interested in knowing how you, dear reader, have experienced similar observations in your body. How does back pain influence your practice? What techniques do you use for core stabilization? Have you conducted similar inquiries, and what did you discover?

This form of inquiry consistently enriches my teaching, as the experiences of other bodies provide valuable insights into how my findings resonate with the biomechanics of different individuals. I invite you to email me with any of your own intriguing discoveries.