I don’t remember exactly what led me to the Somatic exercise videos. Maybe it was an offshoot of the lymphatic drainage exercises on Facebook, or the meditation videos that were supposed to help me get to sleep (didn’t work), or the exercise videos I was watching in order to piece together a manageable daily routine (didn’t work), which led me to the Tai chi guy who led classes as if they were one continuous dance, and the one where the teacher kept hitting her head over and over again, and a whole bunch of yoga videos that seemed to believe I have a closet full of yoga props, just sitting there, waiting. But finally, I landed on a series of videos that didn’t annoy me too much and that attempted to explain the reason why the teacher was swinging her arms around her body like heavy ropes or punching her legs or swaying drunkenly with her eyes closed.
I went down this particular rabbit hole in the first place because I’ve been looking for better ways of dealing with my anxiety than just playing games on my phone all day – well, more productive ways, because the games work too well and stop me from doing anything else – and I came across these somatic exercise videos and found one that was only five minutes long, which is right at the limit of my attention span at the moment, so I gave it a try. This one teacher has videos aimed at various different mental or physical health issues: headaches, depression, dizziness, anxiety, etc., and I decided to try one or two a day and see if it was helpful. But first I had to give myself a stern talking to, reminding myself that I was going to give these videos a chance and not let my inner monologue take over, even though there were so many things that cried out for comment, like the white smoke that comes over the screen each time she finishes one exercise and starts the next, or the creepy smile on her face when she gropes her own arms (something she calls “havening”). But, being me, even sitting alone in my room it was hard to do the self-hugging exercise with a straight face, and I didn’t feel the comfort she was sure I would feel, but at least it didn’t hurt (until I tried to do the fifty repetitions she recommended and my shoulders creaked to a stop, cried, and refused to continue). But there were some arm stretches that felt good, and twists that seemed to loosen up my lower back for a second, and neck stretches that actually made my headache go away for a few minutes, so I kept going.
I would say that the underlying theory of somatic exercise (and somatic therapy, and trauma-informed yoga, and whatever other names these tapping and swinging and shaking exercises go by), is that emotions exist in the body and not just in the mind, and therefore they can be accessed through physical exercises. Of course, some of the emotions they tap into aren’t fun, like shame and anger and self-loathing and impatience, but I’m willing to give it a little bit more time, because sometimes the exercises actually help me feel calm, or steady, or even settled in my body. I still can’t get myself to do the lie-on-the-floor-and-shake-your-arms-and-legs-in-the-air-like-a-dying-bug exercise, but I’m doing my best. I just need to make sure I wear long sleeves for a while, because I bruise easily and all of the tapping and havening and shaking leaves a mark.
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 