I have been thinking a lot lately about posture. Blame seeing too many photos of myself with round-y shoulders, blame an ever-increasing (sometimes aggravating) awareness of how my body is moving through space, blame the simple fact that I'm teaching yoga, so I feel like I probably shouldn't be, um...slouching. All. The. Time.
Whatever the reason, it's been on my mind.
When I first started noticing my own sometimes suspect shoulder slumping, I asked Paul, (no demanded, actually), if he would please point it out to me if he ever saw my posture go all wonky. Which he, dutifully, did...but only on a few occasions, because I don't think he could stand the look of abject horror that crossed my face if he happened to remind me at the wrong moment. Oh, I'm sorry, whaaaaaaaat?! My posture isn't good enough for you? Well, excuuuuuuuuuuuuse me!
Poor guy.
First, let me just say that my own particular misalignment, turns out, is not an uncommon one. My shoulders round slightly, my head pokes forward, and the back of my neck compresses. (Pretty!) The result is the picture an eager-yet-uncertain student. Or of a person endlessly reaching for something with the tip of their chin...or...ugh. It's depressing, just writing about it.
I take some small comfort in the fact that Drew Barrymore and I share the same affliction.
(Oh, Drew...sigh. Just one of the many things we share in common, I'm sure. Why can't we be besties?)
So, okay, so I'm interested, obviously in having good posture for all of the body-mechanical benefits. I want fluidity in my body and efficiency in my muscles, but I'm MUCH more interested (surprise sur-freaking-prise) in the psychological and emotional what-fors behind the whole thing.
Here's what it feels like in my own body: it feels like some part of me thinks that my head reaching forward is keeping things under control, like that if my head can beat my body--can cross the finish line first--then I'm going to be in control of whatever is in front of me. My head, in this position, is in front of my heart. It is, in some ways maybe (and I apologize for the necessary cliche-ness of this next statement) it is protecting my heart. I mean, of course it's NOT. But it feels like it might be. Because I'll tell you what, anytime I remember to lean my head back in a yoga class or, like I did just before sitting down to write this post, I stand against the wall with my butt and shoulders touching it and then press the back of my head into the wall...the vulnerability I feel when I get my head in proper alignment...is marked.
In the yoga philosophy, the front plane of the body represents the individual, the egoic, self, and the back-plane of the body represents the universal, the larger self. If this is true, then the larger self is something we only have to lean back into, and the little "I" self is always something that's just out in front of us. And while I'm sure you could diagnose a head-reaching-forward posture as something which is simply the result of too much time on the computer or in the car, or talking to people who are taller than you (I made that one up), I'm going to venture out on a limb here and say, maybe...maybe it's something bigger than that.
Maybe Drew Barrymore doesn't feel totally safe resting back into that big unknown. Maybe Drew is a bit of an overachiever (being famous at age four, or whatever, for being totally adorable...I think that could do it), and maybe the only way she's known how to navigate is by reaching and grasping and "me first" ing. And maybe this used to be something that helped her survive, but maybe now it's just doing more harm than good. Maybe her little system would like a break. Maybe if Drew could just, exhale, and lean her little head back...who knows what might happen.
I'm talking strictly about Drew Barrymore here, obviously, not anyone else. Just to clear up any confusion. If any of you thought I might be talking about...someone...else. I'm not. I'm really just going to keep my analysis to the postures of celebrities. Tune in next week when we'll delve into some deep discussion about Jennifer Aniston's lumbar curve. Wowza!
(Alright, I'm talking about me.)
I have no real solution to this posture dilemma, except that I am trying to remember to sit up straight, and to tell my little head (softly) that maybe she doesn't need to work so hard all the time. Maybe the world won't end. Maybe her life won't go slipping out of her grasp if she just...rests back every once in a while.
Now if someone could just send me Drew Barrymore's number...I could tell her, too.
