Your Movement Vocabulary
When I start working with a new client, our initial conversation always includes a discussion around goals. What are their goals for our sessions together? The answers range anywhere from getting out of pain to being able to get back to physical activities they enjoy such as tennis or long walks. I recently started working with an older gentleman who had no real goals other than to gain some flexibility. He’s 75, not physically active since COVID, and he knows he needs to move more (he got a little push from his kids to start working with me). So in our initial conversation together, he told me he felt like he was in good shape and adequately had access to all physical capabilities needed to function in his daily life. There wasn’t anything specific he wanted to focus on, he just wanted to move more.
Within the very first session, which is usually an assessment session, I learned a lot of things we didn’t discuss in our initial conversation. He had debilitating back pain doing certain movements, he injured his foot a while back and doesn’t like to put a lot of weight on it, and he doesn’t feel confident with his balance. By the end of the session, he also learned things about himself as he was quite surprised at the things he felt he wasn’t able to perform well such as placing and picking up items from the ground. It turns out that he unknowingly avoids a lot of basic movements to avoid his pain. Little did he realize how that actually limited his movement vocabulary over time.
This was interesting to me but not surprising. Our daily activities are a direct function of our current movement vocabulary. If we don’t feel confident using our right arm, we will manipulate our physical activity to avoid using that arm. If we don’t feel confident in various seated positions on the ground, we will avoid being on the ground during daily life. These are most times very subconscious decisions, and it’s ok until we find ourselves in a situation where we need to be on the ground or where using our right arm is unavoidable. Then we’re in trouble. We may pull a muscle, fall, or end up asking for help doing simple tasks which quickly lends itself to losing our independence as we navigate the world around us.
The wonderful thing about this concept is that it works in reverse. I have a client I’ve been working with for several years. A couple of weeks ago we were remarking on how much his balance and sense of center have improved since we started working together. He said, “I don’t even have to sit down anymore while I put my socks and shoes on, I can just balance!” In our initial session together, he didn’t tell me putting on socks and shoes without sitting down was one of his movement goals. It was a movement that suddenly became available to him because his movement vocabulary increased over time. He used his vocabulary because he had it.
We interact with our environment with the options that we have. When I see a bench, I might choose to sit on it, jump onto it, vault over it, balance on the arm rail, or do pushups on the seat. I have the vocabulary so I will make use of all my options as I see fit. More practically, if you have the vocabulary to hop, balance, and maneuver uneven surfaces, you may choose to enjoy a hike with a friend that you otherwise would not. If you have the vocabulary to move your hips in many ways and to trust your arms, you may choose to climb your kitchen counter to access the top shelf instead of ask someone else to do it or use a stool. If you have the vocabulary to get on and off the floor easily, you might choose to interact with your grandkids differently. The more vocabulary you have and the more diverse it is, the more options you have to physically navigate your environment. This leads to a sense of self confidence which can decrease anxiety, as well as a sense of self efficacy— or the feeling that you can take the necessary actions to manage your body’s physical abilities and pain experiences —which also decreases anxiety. In my very biased opinion, having a large movement vocabulary enriches our lives tremendously.
Increasing one’s movement vocabulary isn’t reserved for athletes or young people in their 20’s and 30’s. It’s for everyone, any age, and any current physical ability. It’s also an unavoidable language to speak. We have to move. Daniel Wolpert, a neuroscientist and engineer argues that the human brain’s primary function is to move. Without movement, we cease to exist. (I highly recommend his TED talk here).
So. Maybe begin to examine your movement vocabulary. What daily decisions are you subconsciously making based on whether or not you have the movement vocabulary? How do you feel your vocabulary has changed over the past 5 years? Has it changed in a way you would like it to? Where would you like it to be 5 years from now?
Keep moving.