Full Disclosure

Maybe you saw this blog and video from the MD Anderson Cancer Center last week:

The accompanying article on the CancerWise blog appears here.

Perhaps you also saw this "rebuttal" in the blogosphere, in which the author condemns the Feldenkrais Method as quackery. You can read MD Anderson's official response in comment number 92, and mine in number 108. Oh, well. I guess you can't expect that everyone will like you.

To point out the obvious, neither the blog nor the video make a health claim that the Feldenkrais Method cures anything. It says that the Feldenkrais Method may be helpful for patients dealing with treatment-related side-effects. That statement is based on the survey responses of class participants.

Apparently, the offending sentence in the CancerWise blog, which I contributed, was " his [Feldenkrais's] findings have been confirmed by research in neuroscience." I should have been more careful. I wanted to be concise, writing for a popular and interested audience.

While I'm not going to worry about Dr. Very-Righteous-and-Indignant-and-Doesn't-Use-His-Name, I feel an obligation to be clear to you, my regular readers. As you know (or can easily find out by reading the sidebar to this blog), I am not a scientist, nor am I a researcher. I am a teacher, and an observer and "reflect-er" on the human condition. I am also a curious and inquisitive person. Many people -- including some with education and pedigrees in the hard sciences -- are intrigued enough by the results or effects of the Feldenkrais Method that they have asked, "Why should this be so? What could explain this phenomenon?" This curiosity and willingness to explore the unknown is the beginning of all scientific inquiry.

There's not a lot of research -- yet. There are, however, over 30 published studies that speak to the issue of whether or not the Feldenkrais Method actually can and does work for individuals with specific concerns. The most complete listing I know of appears on the web site of the International Feldenkrais Federation. In my statement on the CancerWise blog, I should also have credited some of the recent, research-based popular books on neuroscience (The Brain That Changes Itself by Norman Doidge, for example), where it is easy to "connect the dots" or perhaps weave together strands that connect to the findings and writings of Moshe Feldenkrais. When my colleagues and I read of new research in neuroplasticity, learning, and the apparent link between movement and brain development, we cheer. And, we go looking for research partners to help us "build the bridge" and bring the ideas of the Feldenkrais Method to more widespread public awareness. Dr. Doidge has listed numerous studies and articles in the "Notes and Resources" chapter of his book, so I will not list them here. None of them specifically mentions the Feldenkrais Method. As my colleague, Ryan Nagy, points out, that fact is meaningless. All the studies, and the work of Moshe Feldenkrais, point to the same thing. No room to elaborate on that on the CancerWise blog!

I am certain that within the next five to ten years, there will be more solid research to prove the effectiveness of the Feldenkrais Method. Until then, what are people to do?

Well, I hope you'll continue to come to Feldenkrais classes and lessons. You are reading this blog, and so I am preaching to the choir here. You are already curious. You have already experienced something of the Feldenkrais Method, or are thinking about coming to a class or to lessons. Typically, you are someone who would like to have choices in how you deal with difficulties, with roads of inquiry leading away from surgery or drugs, if possible. You're willing to try something different.

Since I don't have a medical background, I am careful not to identify myself as a "healer." I don't give treatments, or adjustments, or therapies, or follow protocols. I teach people, and lessons, in that order. I engage with people at the level of whatever it is that they would like to learn about themselves, and how they do things, and how they might have things more the way they want them to be. I see improvements big and small every day in each of my clients. I don't know how to quantify it. Maybe somebody does. I'm more interested in the individual case, the outlier, than in the big-picture, one-size-fits-all, broad brush approach. That's why I do the work I do.

Quantitative and qualitative measures are different types of data, and each is suited for particular purposes. You don't demand that every job be done with a screwdriver when a wrench will do the trick for some. So -- there's some quantitative data on the effectiveness of the Feldenkrais Method, and we'd love to have more. We have more qualitative data, and we'd love to have more. Until then, we trust you to do your own "research." In our method, intellectual rigor and non-judgment walk hand in hand. Come to a class where your experience and your perceptions are important. Come to a class where you can prove to yourself that change is possible. If you need to have some hard data before you come, we'll give you what we've got. However, you'll probably be waiting awhile. If you're willing to come and make up your own mind, we're ready for you, right now.

Related articles by Zemanta

• Michael Merzenich: Exploring the re-wiring of the brain (brainandlearning.blogspot.com)
• Book Review: The Brain That Changes Itself (LearnThis.ca)
• Dr. David Gorski, King of the Quacks (FeldenkraisBlog)
  

You Wanna Talk Fireworks?

If you want to experience REAL fireworks, watch what happens when you try to change someone's routine.

Ooooohhh, LORDY! Stand back! And, unlike those displays you'll watch at the park, on your porch, or on the television later this week, the "fireworks" I'm talking about can happen suddenly, without warning, at any old time. And, it can happen to people who supposedly have this whole change thing DOWN. It's all cool, right, whatever? (Begin Twilight Zone theme. . .) People like you and me can go, well, a little bonkers. Ladies and Gentlemen, please allow me to recount a tale of my recent experience, which will shock and amaze you. What sets off your fireworks?

For the past two years, I've taught a Feldenkrais Awareness Through Movement class each week at the MD Anderson Cancer Center's Place. . .of wellness. The POW (as "insiders" call it, strangely appropriate this week, it seems!) is a wonderful place where anyone whose life has been touched by cancer can take advantage of free programs designed to reduce stress and feed the body, mind, and spirit. Yoga, Quigong, Acupuncture, and Feldenkrais Method classes have been regular fixtures for many years in this ground-breaking "complementary and alternative" wellness-based approach to cancer care. The POW hosts patients currently undergoing treatment, families and caregivers, and members of the community at large. I am privileged to be there, and I enjoy a cordial relationship with the regular staff. I really look forward to teaching my class there each week. I look forward to the experience, even though I must deal with (dun dun DUNNNNN!) The Medical Center.

Say, "Medical Center" to anyone who lives in Houston, and you'll get an understanding eye roll, or perhaps a shudder. It's the renowned Texas Medical Center, the largest in the world. The traffic is atrocious. The parking is expensive. For many people, just dealing with the place once is enough to send them, terrified, on circuitious routes to avoid the area. Yet, each day, countless people drive there and park, to spend an hour or the entire day dealing somehow with the realities of cancer. I used to become very impatient each week as I pulled into Garage 10, the one closest to POW. One day, I realized that the drivers were doing the best they could. They, or a loved one, are probably a patient, completely preoccupied with a serious life-crisis. Driving, Schmiving. It's the last thing on their mind. I've learned to chill out, breathe, and plan to spend extra time in the garage to make it to my class on time. However, I'd be fibbing if I told you I wasn't a little stressed out by my trips to the Medical Center.

So, last week, progress came to the Medical Center. The entire method of paying for parking has changed. You used to drive into the garage, push a button on the gate, and the machine would spit out a paper ticket with a magnetic strip. You had to take the ticket with you -- o god don't leave it in the car -- and later validate it and pay via a large machine in the lobby of the garage. Although I only mangled my ticket a couple of times, I learned the system, and even learned to joke about it with other sufferers. The kiosk's robotic voice sounded a lot like Stephen Hawking ("Your parking fee is Six Dollars. Please pay. With cash. Or Credit. Card."), which amused me, and I rather looked forward to talking to Stephen on my visits to the garage. Was he living in Houston now, inside that box? Or were we talking on the speakerphone? Whatever. Stephen and I had our thing. However, last Thursday, EVERYTHING changed. Or so it seemed.

I drove in the entrance, and the gate was different. I pushed the button, a new button, and a yellow plastic disc was dispensed instead of a ticket. What the hell? I put the token in my pocket, a bit shaken, but noticing the advantage of the non-mangling. When I was ready to leave, I inserted the token into a new machine. Although I was relieved that the experience of paying was about the same (the same slots were available for cash or credit cards), I quickly became rattled. Stephen Hawking was GONE! Did Stephen get fired? All that we had was now finished, just like that. Some new young guy is now in the machine. Oh, well.

Attendants were stationed in the garage lobby, and at the exit gate ("Just insert the token, Ma'am.") to help anyone who was on the verge of flipping out. I had to breathe. And I realized how I, even I, a helper of people who are in the midst of navigating change, was using my sense of humor to deal with a disruption of a routine I didn't even realize I had. Others were not able to access their sense of humor. They were perturbed. Some, explosively so. Apparently, we all attach to our routines. We notice when we must change.

The lesson is, a little perturbation is necessary in life to move us forward, and to help us to adapt to a changing environment. I'm glad I have my training in the Feldenkrais Method to help me play with change, discover possibilities, and enjoy my expanding capacities to do new things. Who knows? That new guy in the machine might be really nice.

Related articles by Zemanta

• Pre-Surgical Stress Management Improves Mood, Quality Of Life For Prostate Cancer Patients (medicalnewstoday.com)