Is it CE? YOU tell ME!

When people ask me what a conductor is, I usually say something along the lines of "a conductor is an educator and re/habilitation professional that specializes in teaching movement strategies and skills to people with neuro-motor disorders such as cerebral palsy, Parkinson's Disease, stroke, acquired brain injury, MS".  Who am I kidding - I don't usually say that, I always say that.  Sometimes I substitute "disabilities caused by conditions like..." for "neuro-motor disorders such as...", but the limited list of conditions and the automated emphasis on movement strategies and skills is always the same and I no longer really believe that this is what a conductor does.  People rarely ask for more details - let's face it, that's a pretty good small talk conversation killer - and I am left with this empty feeling of a missed opportunity to elevate Conductive Education (CE) by talking about the subtle but essential and  essentially human aspects of what I do beyond teaching movement -- the conductive magic -- and its applications beyond the motor disordered population.

Wait a minute - so am I saying that CE is not about teaching movement to people with motor disorders?  Yes - sort of.  In traditional CE people with motor disorders come to learn to move better and on the surface the obvious skills and strategies being learned are motoric.  And yes, I certainly spend the bulk of my time working through movement and teaching movement strategies and skills, though I do not limit myself to working only with people with motor disorders.

However, teaching movement is only the obvious 'on the surface' part of what CE is, of what I do.  Below the motoric exterior, psycho-social change - conductive magic - is happening, not accidentally, not as a side bonus, but as part of my what I am purposefully trying to do, as part of what conduction is.  The movement and the magic are intricately tangled and inseparable.  It doesn't feel like CE unless that conductive magic is there too - those changes that happen under the surface when somebody starts to have hope, have confidence, to connect, to think differently, to believe in themselves, to problem solve, to be positive, to be willing to try.  Those changes don't always happen, even when somebody successfully achieves a movement related goal.  And -- perhaps more tellingly -- those changes sometimes occur even when somebody does not achieve their movement related goal, and these changes may in fact actually be pre-requisites for that person's success.

When that conductive magic is there, regardless of the person's diagnosis or lack thereof, it feels like 'we are doing CE'.  Let's push the boundaries shall we -- here are some examples.

Of all my clients, LE is the one that I feel most conductive with.  LE is 46, rather autistic and rather prone to anxiety.  His mind imprints memories and experiences differently to how yours or mine does.  This makes it really difficult for him to un-learn or un-associate experiences that leave a mark, particularly negative experiences such as a recent fall on a slippery surface.  He also has vertigo -- so understandably going down escalators is a major trigger for his anxiety, especially considering he is looking down at his feet to avoid tripping or slipping.  LE's carers and family were finding it impossible to take him on recreational outings as the panic attacks (which included screaming, crying, and repetitive self injuring at the top of escalators or on reflective floor surfaces) were becoming unmanageable; LE was becoming more isolated and depressed.  My role is to help him regain confidence walking around the local shopping centre and on the escalators so he can resume going on recreational outings.

Through strategic trial and error LE and I have worked out a system for managing escalators and shiny floors.  We choose a landmark on our approach to the escalator or shiny floor where we begin marching and singing (we started with 1-2 buckle my shoe because it was easy, subconscious, but LE has since informed me that he likes ABBA so we now march to the dolce tones of us singing 'Dancing Queen').  As we get closer (still marching and singing) I remind LE to keep his head up and give him something specific at eye level to look at - he repeats what he is looking at while still marching, looks down briefly to check his feet and looks at that focus point.  The marching never stops, the singing resumes and on we go.  If necessary LE knows to march on the spot for a few steps before stepping onto the escalator but doesn't stop moving or singing when at the top (the singing and the concentration needed to keep marching mean that the anxiety a.k.a 'bad thoughts' can't come into his head -- we literally are stamping and drowning out the anxiety with ABBA).  If LE starts to freak as we approach, with the simple command 'detour' we march away, regain composure and approach again.  If we are successful I am over the top with praise and high fives.  If we are not successful I acknowledge the effort, don't react to the panic attack (this takes an incredible amount of concerted energy on my part) and as soon as possible try again until we have a good one because I don't want to risk him imprinting a negative experience of escalators and panic and me, I want to leave him with a positive experience to imprint.

Everything I say when I'm with LE is purposeful.  I don't know what bit of what I say might imprint in his mind, and he is echolalic (repeats certain things that are said over and over, sometimes with increasing volume) and has certain programmed learned verbal responses making his responses to what he is not repeating relatively predictable.  Which means while we are walking towards the shopping mall and the escalators I have time to get him repeating and affirming what I want him to be thinking.  It goes one of two ways.  I'll say 'LE, you've been doing really well with the escalators', he'll say 'well with the escalators, well with the escalators' (echolalia) or I'll say 'you are getting better and better at the escalators', he'll say 'yes I am' (programmed learned agreeing response).  Imagine the effect of me slipping and saying  'you don't seem scared anymore' and him repeating 'seem scared' or me saying 'no biting and screaming like last time' and him saying 'yes I am'.

LE knows the system we are using -- his memory is very good -- so while we are walking we break down the task ahead and go through the plan step by step.  He knows what's expected of him, what is going to happen, and what the back up plan is.  I ask him to visualize it happening perfectly and smoothly, while we are walking and talking about it, and to try to imagine feeling brave and confident and strong and proud of himself - I don't know whether he understands these 'feelings' but he gives me these words back as part of the dialogue we have when we are talking about the system or visualizing doing it and I ask him he feels.

I know it must sound odd, but it works so well to work conductively with LE - the manifestation of his autism lends itself so perfectly to working through repetitive intention and systematically broken down and practiced complex tasks.  Repetition of key words and phrases and systematisation of everyday tasks are weird for most people new to a CE environment but are perfectly normal to LE -- it's how he does everything.  Because I can manipulate the way he already uses language to affect his thinking, intention, confidence, ability and can use language so obviously to plan and structure his actions he becomes able to do things that seemed impossible to him and to those helping him.  I'm working with what he already could do - repeat things, memorize things, walk rhythmically - and using his autism positively instead of trying to stop him from being autistic.  His mom and carers have reported that he is managing better with them now and that he uses the exact system with whomever he is with, even 'explaining' it to new staff.

Is it CE? You tell me!  I'll give you some more 'unusual examples' of working conductively and of variations on the conductive magic theme in my next posting.  In the mean time you can LOL while you think about LE and I marching our way onto escalators singing....        http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REElUors1pQ


"Yes, I am a dreamer
For a dreamer is one who can find his way by moonlight
and see dawn before the rest of the world."
-- Oscar Wilde --

More about Conducting "Enable Me"

I know that my role in the "Enable Me" project is personal trainer / exercise lady.  However, I have been switching hats a lot lately -- mid session and discreetly taking my personal trainer hat off and slipping my conductor hat back on, barely stopping to notice how comfortable it feels, but noticing the change in my tone, the way sets and repetitions of exercises give way to rhythmically intended tasks, the subtle stylistic changes in the way the session is delivered.  The people I work with in this project are in their eighties -- if they notice the hat change they don't react though they certainly respond.  Whether what I am doing would look and sound normal in a CE group but seem a bit odd in the gym is irrelevant to these people for whom the concept of a personal trainer is as foreign as that of a conductor.

Don't get me wrong -- I am passionate about how valuable exercise is for people of all ages and abilities and firmly believe that exercise helps people stay strong and healthy and can actually intervene with what is often presumed to be an inevitable part of the ageing process.  But there are times when what is needed and what is more appropriate in a given moment or over a few weeks of working with a particular person is Conductive Education -- the learning, the structured approach to problem solving, the way of breaking complex movements into manageable segments, practicing them, and stringing them back together as fluent, purposeful movement, the use of speech and rhythm and intention and motivation as facilitation -- in other words the unique tricks specific to the conductive trade.

Mr LH's file says that he has had a frozen shoulder, has had a few falls, and has mild cognitive decline.  In reality Mr LH's movement and cognition is characteristic of something in the Parkinson's plus family of conditions -- I of course wouldn't try to guess or diagnose, that is certainly not my role, but I am pleased that the case manager and physiotherapist accept my experience based hunch that there is something neuro-motoric going on and have written a letter that Mr LH can take to his GP recommending further investigation.  I am even more pleased that Mr LH has spontaneously started rhythmically saying tasks and counting with me (it is often hard for me to get people to count and say tasks in individual sessions, especially if they have not experienced the power of rhythmical intention in a CE group); I am even more pleased that when he counts he can walk and swing his arms and get up from a chair and coordinate complex movements.  I hope -- as I often do about my 'hunches' -- that I am wrong and that there is no neuro-motor disorder creeping in.  Without my training and experience as a conductor I would have no entry point for working with Mr LH -- I wouldn't know where to start.

Mr GL had a major stroke 15 years ago -- at the time he was fit and healthy and his stroke baffled his medical team and shocked Mr GL and his family.  The 'Enable Me' case manager wasn't sure if this was something a personal trainer should be involved in and called to chat with me about how frail Mr GL was and about his increased risk of falls.  I reminded her that I had many years of experience working with people after strokes in my previous life as a conductor.  Today Mr GL and I had our first session -- within minutes it felt like we had been working together for years.  I knew right away which tasks would work and what tricks to start him with, where to put my hands, where to push him, what it must have felt like for him to have his posture and symmetry and weight bearing corrected after 16 years.  I saw his eyes light up when he conquered a task that moments ago had seemed impossible -- a few moments and a little conductive magic make a big difference when those moments are spent practicing and learning to apply nifty little CE tricks.

There have been a lot of people in the 'Enable Me' program that have been deemed too frail for personal training and who have instead received physiotherapy only instead of a combined approach -- there are a lot of people in the 'Enable Me' program that I would have been able to help if I had been given the chance to work with them.  I got the contract with the 'Enable Me' program because of my work as a Conductor -- somebody whom I used to work with at the local cerebral palsy centre referred me and people involved with the program saw me working at the gym with people in wheelchairs.  But I am contracted as a personal trainer, and what I bring to the table as a conductor is not fully understood or recognized, and therefore opportunities to help people as a conductor have been missed.  At this point I do not believe that Conductive Education will even get a mention when the reports about the 'Enable Me' project are written up.  I hope I can correct this but I am just not certain it will happen.   I wish that when the contract was negotiated I had had the guts to stand up for Conductive Education instead of just being glad for the opportunity to take part.

Over and over and over again I hear people relate the advice they have been given by well meaning professionals -- 'you have CP / MS / PD / stroke / old age / whatever, there is nothing that can be done, accept it'.  That is just not how we think in Conductive Education -- because I am a conductor I have a place to start and a unique bag of tricks and conductive magic, but more importantly I have a conductive attitude that makes me believe that there is always something that can be done, something that can be learned,  that it is worth trying, so I do start, and start again, and try something new if one thing doesn't work.  I'd like to think that I am the same when I am wearing my personal training hat -- and I know that if I am it is because that conductive attitude is so much a part of me now, or because no matter what role I'm in, I'm always wearing my conductor hat.

http://195.122.253.112/public/mp3/Beatles/14%20Let%20It%20Be/The%20Beatles%20-%20Let%20It%20Be%20-%2010%20The%20Long%20And%20Winding%20Road.mp3

rhythmic meditation

I have always loved the start of my adult CE sessions; the exchange of sincerely warm greetings and chit chat of friends catching up on life and the real world events from one session to the next; 'how are you's?' where the question is genuine and the response listened to; transferring or getting settled and ready to start; the tension of expectant silence before the first task which I always let linger for just an extra second or two so that we can all clear our minds, come together mentally, and prepare for the physical work at hand; and finally the first task delivered and repeated with rhythm so deliberate, connecting and uniting us, setting the tone, tempo, and mood for the start of the session.  I have learned that these moments are so precious, even if the session is not going to be a traditional session following a formal task series, and especially when the participant(s) are accustomed to formal CE.

AR -- my partner in crime (as well as in business an in life) -- is lucky enough to be the person who gets my unedited and often exuberant monologue response to 'Hey, how was your day?'.  A couple of weeks ago he said -- "...this rhythm thing you are always talking about, I don't understand it".  And I sort of froze.  Not because I don't know, but because I haven't been asked to explain it in such a long time, and because over the years it has become so intrinsic to what I do that I had to work out my response.  So, what exactly is this rhythm thing we talk about and how is it used in CE?  I wish I could explain it simply -- I can't -- but I can try to exemplify how I use it, as a traditional CE facilitation and otherwise, in this instance as a meditation.

For example, CW is an adult with mixed tone athetoid cerebral palsy who has been doing CE with me on and off for the past 7 years and who has accomplished some phenomenal things.  She is fearless and adventurous, quick witted and mentally agile, always open to trying new things, always working out ways to make something possible despite a relatively uncooperative body, particularly over recent years where suspected cervical myelopathy has wreaked havoc on her body.  We are working intensively at the moment to regain CW's leg strength following a hip operation, and she is awaiting major neck surgery.  We have agreed that our work will be more like 'physio' / rehab / training' for now -- focussed on regaining leg strength and nothing else, avoiding anything upper body because of the risk of doing further damage to her neck; repeating very specific movements several times and then resting and repeating; more like a gym session than like CE.  She is understandably anxious and frustrated.  I see it in her face, hear it in what she voices; when I arrive we talk about updates from doctors, and changing neuropathy, and how things have been since I've last seen her.  And then that pause; that expectant silence, and the first task, the tone, the deliberate rhythm, the counting.  I see her face relax as she counts with me; the familiar rhythm washes over her, the worry and anxiety and frustration shelved for later, the mind cleared and focussed and ready to take on that body.  For CW the rhythm is a meditation of sorts, powerful and soothing, without it I'd just be working with her legs, not her mind.

This meditative use of rhythm CW utilizes reminds me of a woman with late stage MS that my conductive mentor AB and I worked with years ago in Toronto who used rhythm in a very similar way.  I used video footage of this woman for a conference presentation years ago in South Hampton.  The video was of a session where this woman was working with myself and AB, all three of us verbally intending and counting over and over and over again, trying to coax a leg locked in extreme and painful spasm to relax millimeter by millimeter.  A senior conductor at that conference, in fact one of my university lecturers and the person who had taught me how to work with rhythm, challenged me on the use of repetition and counting in such an intense one on one situation.  At the time, I only knew that it felt right, and I was too intimidated to defend my choice.  Looking back, and I remember that session and the work with that participant so clearly, I recognize the same meditative thing happening that I now see with CW.  The familiar rhythm washing over her, giving her a way to use her mind to shift away from the pain of the spasm, to relax her mind so she could relax her body.  I remember that it was hard for her to count when the spasms were violent, but that when she 'caught the rhythm', breathed, counted that her face changed, softened; that her eyes were no longer squeezed shut, that her body stopped bracing, and if necessary tears could flow uninhibited.  The rhythm was not part of the task solution, but again the way in to the body, the body mind connection.


You have to be able to focus, to control your energy. You need to make it your ally, instead of trying to harness it, to muscle it. That wastes energy too. There has to be a harmony between you and your body. Your mind and your body, and your soul have to connect in order to move forward. And this comes through relaxation.
                                 ~ Elvis Stojko, Canadian world champion figure skater

Seeing is believing -- and believing is seeing

We often say seeing is believing -- and this is taken to mean that whatever we it is that we want to believe must first be demonstrated, must be proved, must exist, and must be objectively true.  Skepticism is considered healthy - be critical, suspend judgment, just the facts ma'am.  Our society values evidence over experience and intuition, and faith and hope are considered charlatan.  Conductive Education has been ridiculed and denounced and disregarded -- we haven't figured out how to quantify and clearly articulate what it is that we do; nor have external researchers, and why should they -- it is their job to be critical and objective.   And we, the 'global conductive community' -- for lack of a better way of describing the flotsam of people around the world working in the field of Conductive Education, supporting and fighting for Conductive Education, and benefitting from experiencing Conductive Education -- don't help the situation.  We talk about the intangible and psychosocial defining elements of Conductive Education and then try to find a tangible and objective way to be measured and defined so that we can fit in to wherever it is we are trying to eek out an existence.  Or we quietly do what we do and hope to remain unnoticed and therefore unscrutinized but never actually articulate what it is that we are so passionate about and protective of.

Where am I going with this ranting raving opening to this first blog, you ask?  I don't pretend to have the answers, just my experience, my stories, and my thoughts.  In this blog I plan to write about some of the unmeasurable and intangible conductive magic underlying the practice -- because it is important, because it is what makes us different, and because it is what makes me and many of the others that I have conducted love Conductive Education.  And I will start today with some thoughts inspired by KD about seeing and believing.

KD is an adult with cerebral palsy -- she attended a CE group I ran here in Sydney a few years ago.  She is also an elite boccia player and has represented her state and her country at major competitions.  KD thrived in the Conductive Education environment -- she came into the classroom with a determination of steel and an attitude that roared "I will until".  And she did, regardless of who told her she shouldn't or couldn't.  I'll never forget the relief and joy she expressed when we first met for our initial consultation when she expressed her goals and her dreams and I said let's give it a shot.  She was amazed that I didn't tell her it was impossible, and I continue to be amazed that there are people out there like KD who despite decades of discouragement still have the guts to have goals and dreams, let alone express them.  Over a few years I watched KD go from a few assisted steps with two conductors and a walker, to practicing with a friend outside the classroom, to walking across a beach promenade with her walker, unassisted, as part of a fundraiser that she organized so that she could afford to travel with the boccia squad to compete overseas.

KD contacted me a few months ago asking if we could get started again.  She said that she had had a rough year -- not just any old rough year; frequent and severe seizures, injuries, hospitalizations, life support; we had nearly lost her on more than one occasion.  KD said that as a result she had lost a lot of motor and sensory function affecting her entire life and well-being and, most importantly to KD, her boccia.

When I met with her for consultation, it was clear that she had not exaggerated any of what she had described.  Her struggle and fatigue were apparent, there was less fire in her eyes -- it still flickered, but it was dim.  I imagine a couple of years of illness, loss, grief, fear, worst case scenarios, and being told that she was lucky to be alive but that no recovery of function could reasonably be expected would extinguish most people's fires -- but KD was still fighting, dragging herself up for the next round.  We struggled through a first session -- very basic movements.  It was challenging for both of us -- because the last time we worked together everything was very different.  KD got teary as we tried movements that she hadn't tried since her down turn, and added more things to the mental list she was keeping of what she could no longer do.  I asked about her goals for our sessions she met my eye (which in itself is a big challenge for KD at present) and said, pleadingly but with determination "I don't care what or how much, I just want to get some of it back".  And I saw the fire -- I stopped seeing all of the deterioration and stopped wondering where we would start -- I saw the fire in her eyes, and I heard myself say "you will".  I couldn't see, but I believed.  And because I believed, KD believed -- without question, without proof, without a promise, without seeing, she believed.

We believed in hope, in possibility, in potential.  I believed in KD -- more importantly, she believed in herself.  And because we believed instead of doubted, the next week when we worked together it was totally different.  Same bedroom, same body, same debilitating last few years.  But it was totally different.  Her ability to initiate and control movement was different; her pain free range of motion was different; her ability to stabilize non moving parts of her body was different; I'm talking about significant, noticable differences in her head, trunk, and limbs -- despite a stressful week of seizures so severe she nearly missed her own 40th birthday party.  I knew it, she knew it.  No miraculous recovery, but certainly some conductive magic.

When I commented (excitedly and amazedly) KD smiled and said she had been practicing.  Practicing basic movements physically when she could, in her mind -- visualizing -- when her body was too tired.  Thinking the movement commands to herself or having a friend repeat them out loud to her over the phone.  I lift my arm; I hold my head up; I move my leg.  There was no reason that this could not have been happening previously -- except that despair and frustration and hopelessness probably made trying and practicing seem futile.  A bit of belief -- an attitude adjustment -- refuelled KD's natural determination of steel -- I can; I will.

We talked that day about the verbal intention used in the CE task series -- not in terms of what rhythm was used or in terms of connecting intention and movement through  external and internal commands and involving higher brain functions.  We talked about the affirming power of the statements in positive present tense expressing and painting a picture in her mind of what she wants.  I lift my arm; I hold my head up; I move my leg -- out loud, in her mind, over and over again stating the goal in present tense as if already achieved, speaking what she wants not what she doesn't, replacing conscious and subconscious I can't with I am; I do; I will until.  Creating an image and holding it firmly in her mind's eye -- believing, seeing; seeing, believing.

We say 'listen, say, do' when explaining verbal intention --
Perhaps we really mean 'listen-say/believe/visualize-do'; perhaps the conductive magic is about what happens mentally in those precious seconds before the 'doing' starts.  There is no shortage on literature about the power of positive thinking, goal setting, and affirmation -- perhaps this should be included in our quest to define and make sense of Conductive Education.

"What the mind can conceive and believe, the mind can achieve"
   ---Napoleon Hill