This session took place on March 13, 2012.
Rolfing sessions 4 and 5 take apart and put back together the pelvic bowl and its connections to the lower and upper body, respectively. Shifts related to these sessions can be intense, physically and emotionally. For this reason, we scheduled my sessions just one week apart. I was thankful for this, and will explain why later.
First, session 4… From my rolfer’s website:
We move back to the legs in this session, focusing on the inside of the leg from the ankle to the pelvis, at a slightly deeper layer. The relationship of the foot to the pelvis is aligned; torsions at the knee and hip are addressed. Manipulating adductor attachments allows increased range of movement of the pelvis, which starts the pelvis on its way to becoming more horizontal. This session provides the feeling that the legs are supporting the abdominal space and providing lift for the upper body, a new experience for many back pain sufferers. This session can also be effective for hip and knee pain.
“When I put my foot down it no longer goes where it used to” is a familiar response after session four. Furthermore, clients occasionally report emotional extremes following this session—many people don’t realize how much physical and/or emotional tension they hold in the pelvis until this session disturbs that holding pattern. Although these physically and emotionally unsettled states are usually mild when they occur, it’s best to schedule sessions four and five about a week apart. Session five continues the work started in four, and brings the body to greater balance.
The image I got that I shared with Bethany during the session was of my pelvis as a bowl. That is indeed its shape, but I’d never had the spacious, supportive felt sense of it before.
The feeling/image I got that I didn’t share with Bethany as she worked on the inner plane of my left hip, deep into my abdomen, during session 4 was that of an eviscerated doll. Stuffing coming out all over the floor.
On one hand this is a nice feeling—clean, spacious.
On another hand, it is disturbing. Mortal injury, core gone, empty.
I attended second grade in three states: Louisiana, Washington, and Kansas. Each time we moved, we were supposed to be moving for good. That year broke me. I had fallen in love with Washington, our home on the edge of national forest, walking distance to the curious and otherworldly Mima Mounds. We were there just over two months.
I have a memory of going out to my moss-enshrouded play outdoor kitchen on the edge of the woods upon learning that we would be moving again, moving away. I was done. Done with pain, done with powerlessness, done with getting attached to things, done with loving, done with hope, done with believing I could have what I wanted. In that kitchen, I performed my own psychic and emotional evisceration. I took out the tender, feeling-full, squishy inner bits and buried them. I filled the cavity back up with stones and sealed the gash. I would feel no more.
It took me over 20 years to begin to fully realize the ramifications of what I had done—what I needed to do in order to emotionally and psychologically survive at the time—and to accept the work of reversing the procedure.
Bethany says that many people shield on the outer layers of their bodies, like armor. Penetrate that tense, tough outer crust, and the softness is just under the surface. What I heard her say is that my shield, my hardness, goes deeper than that, perhaps all the way through. This tells me that, though Mamacita gave me back my heart in the past year, I clearly have some other organs and stuffing to retrieve and replace. I see Rolfing as helping dislodge the rocks.
It was not until the intense solo quadrant dance of the Firekeeper’s round of Dance Lodge the Saturday following session 4 that I connected the eviscerated doll with the big dream I had in which the snowy owl fought me for a rock-hard backpack I carried on my chest. During the fight, the backpack opened and the owl began pulling out billowing ribbons of saffron fabric. In lodge I pulled ever more of that packed rich saffron silk out of my torso, creating more space for the desired stuffings of softness, connectedness, and love.
But where will those stuffings come from? Who will sensitively pack them inside of me? Nevermind my deep longing that someone else deeply care for and nourish me in this way; as before, the only person who can do this transplant is myself. Here there is mourning, but it emerged even more powerfully after session 5, so I will touch back on it while writing about that.
Movement education/practice: sit on your sit bones, on the very edge of this wooden bench, with your feet engaging with and rooting into the floor. Find the place where the bowl of your pelvis tips forward and suddenly the frame of your body is supporting itself with no effort, no strain.
Tears come as I feel the relief, the difference. I know immediately this contrasts with the immense effort I nearly always am making just to be, in some acceptable way, in space—to hold myself erect, braced against my own expectations. And all this time, this ease and effortless, painless support was quietly here, waiting for me to trust my body and settle into it instead of trying to rigidly hold it and control it.
Later in the week, recognition of old core belief patterns about not deserving to exist if I’m not living up to some vast, amazing potential.
Frustration with the illusion that any of these things get fully resolved. I remember the last time I thought I buried that particular pattern, yet here it is again, healthier than ever.
Further recognition of deep tensions within myself between the desire to connect, and the terror of enmeshment. Feeling crazily strung between the two. Seeing how this plays out in my intimate relationships, how I give mixed signals and behave inconsistently. Feeling like I must hie myself back to therapy to have any hope of making it safely back to ground.
Rage at the idea of more time and money spent on therapy.
Physically, after this session I was sore for a couple of days deep within my hips and abdomen. I began rolling over on my left ankle when stepping down on my left foot, but avoided any injuries.
And then, blessedly swiftly, there was session 5…