"When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."
- Viktor Frankl
I just finished my third ever 10 Series with a client from the public. The completion of these sessions goes along with the completion of my basic training at the Rolf Institute and the end of a life chapter beginning more than a year ago. It's been a long time coming and it'll be a short time going back home. With all of this and other big changes in mind I've been thinking a lot about the word closure. Being a natural lingerer I never really had a knack of ending things. In most settings I always kind of just waited until I was the last person to go so I didn't have to say goodbye. I just wanted to hold the space and keep holding it until the people that left returned. The same applies to how I operate throughout the day. I never really had a knack of ending my day. I just keep doing things until I pass out because I don't want the day to end. I want to hold onto it and make it last as long as possible so there's more opportunities for people, places, and things to continue adding to my experience of it. It's a bit tiring to say the least but oftentimes feels rewarding. So even though I've been thinking a lot about closure I still don't believe I understand it or how it applies to my life. Some wisdom began brewing within me when it was introduced as one of the key principles in Rolfing.
There are many moments in my life where I find myself living with a Zen like rhythm. Most people experienced something like it before where in the midst of an activity they realize they could just keep going. It could be a long run or hike. It could happen while painting a picture or jamming with friends. It could occur while lovers are enjoying the company of one another. It could be someone getting on a roll with projects at work. I think it's a wonderful feeling; even more so when I have a real passion for the activity. With such engaging delight it's difficult to know when to stop or when the right time is to be finished. Is there ever a right time? If so, what determines that? How do I know when the moment is done when there's so much more that could be done? Am I ever finished?
I guess we could say that nothing is ever entirely finished. There's always more to do. Even with more to do we could also say that there's a point where we don't have to do anymore. Take something like da Vinci's Mona Lisa. Yeah it could be added to but I think the general consensus is to leave it as it is. Just like Leonardo did when he realized he was done. There are points when we know we're finished as creators and time is not always the determining factor. Time is indeed influential in how we finish things but there are still a lot of ways in which the developing art of closure can make that limitation seemingly non-existent. We need closure. We need it not just as a means to navigate personal relationships but as a means to navigate through many of our daily practices. Even things like going to bed require a certain form of closure that allows us to let go of the current day thereby enabling us to wake up for the next.
There are places where I've wanted to remain forever and moments I never wanted to end. There are sessions where I feel like I could keep working with that Zen like rhythm. Sometimes I feel like I can dig deeper and keep uncovering new territory but something stops me. It's not just the time, the overload, or the realities of getting tired and hungry. It's for the sake of growth. Things need space and time between interventions if they are to evolve. The silence between experiences is just as important as the moments themselves. That silence, that nothingness, is being in its purest form. The form responds to the interventions made by us. When we let go of that form and free it from the confines of our intentions it can then grow into what it wants to become.
This is getting heady but the main point I wanted to make is that the word closure has come to mean something more to me than what it did. As a principle of Rolfing closure guides my work in letting me know when to stop and let things be. It's just as important as what I choose to do and how much of it. I'm reminded of one other highlights of my time training here. During our second phase of learning the work we were assigned partners for giving and receiving the 10 Series. These were our first sessions done in class with instructor supervision. We were instructed to keep sessions under an hour but by the first round of exchanges we found out how challenging it really is to stop working. It was around the third session exchange that we had where again many of us were 45 minutes into session and had only done one side of the body. I personally felt overwhelmed and incomplete looking at my partner lying there on the table with half of his body looking aligned and the other looking like a crime scene. Then out of nowhere I heard our instructor Tessy say to the class with a Zen like smile on her face "You know...there's always more to do." You could instantly feel the energy shift from everyone in the room.
We remembered the hard truth, life doesn't begin and end in a Rolf Session. It gets back up, puts back on its clothes, and walks out the door to live some more.
I keep closure in mind, not just at the tenth session of a series but in every session, in every intervention, and in every touch. In every experience there's a beginning, middle, and end that forms a completeness and Form loves completeness. Rolfing is not just an art of doing, it's also an art of not doing.
Comments