"Noticing" In Action: The "Learner" Is In Charge!

As someone who taught elementary school for 23 years, I can reflect on all the lessons I planned, all the decisions I made, about how and what to teach. I was in charge of my classroom. I had my kids’ best interest in mind, but I was the main decision-maker.

Imagine my surprise when, as I was taking classes in the Brain Gym® work, I realized that my approach was lacking a key element: allowing the learners in my care to notice what they needed, and make decisions for themselves. This was huge.

I’ll share this excerpt from my book, Educate Your Brain, that illustrates this point.1

Noticing and the Learning Process

Many people are familiar with the concept that certain exercises are “good” for the body. It’s a common occurrence to go to a physical trainer and have him or her observe our physical condition and prescribe activities that will help build muscle.

With the learning process, however, the dynamic changes. While it’s true that certain movements help develop specific skills (practicing the Lazy 8s pattern is very helpful in developing correct letter formation, for example), when a learner feels stuck, the most important movement to do is the one he is drawn to.

Following a Brain Gym workshop, Carson, a special-needs teacher, couldn’t wait to include the Brain Gym movements in his work with children. He opened each student session with the PACE warm-up and found that his students were suddenly more ready to learn; it seemed to him that they began benefiting even more deeply from his other techniques—the ones he’d been doing all along with them.

But his biggest surprise came when he began allowing students to choose their own path to achievement. He and the child would identify the skill to work on that day, and then Carson would offer the child a list of perhaps ten therapy activities—always including Brain Gym—and allow the child to choose. Carson could not believe how quickly his young students began improving in core skills, as they selected one activity after another, essentially directing their own learning.

Carson wrote, “One day I was working with Jonathan, age ten, who wanted to improve his handwriting. He said that writing was exhausting, and it took him a long time to complete his assignments. The sample he wrote for me had small, cramped letters, reflecting perfectly the way his elbow was compressed to his side and his hand gripped on his pencil. Tension radiated from his shoulder down to his fingertips.

“I showed Jonathan a poster with all twenty-six Brain Gym movements on it and invited him to choose the one that would be ‘best for him right now.’ Out of all those movements, he chose Arm Activation, an isometric activity that releases tension from the shoulders.

“After Arm Activation, Jonathan’s writing sample was very different; his letters were larger, and his handwriting overall was more fluid. His arm was relaxed, and his hand had a lighter grip on the pencil. He said, ‘That was easier! Can I do this every day?’"

Later, Carson told me, “When I looked closely at myself, I realized that, on some level, I had always been focused on figuring out what was ‘wrong’ with kids and ‘fixing’ them. My biggest ‘aha’ moment was realizing that every child arrives at my door ready to show me what he can most benefit from—that day. When I support the child in noticing and choosing, and follow his lead, amazing things happen.”

I wish you all the pleasure of deep inner noticing about what would benefit you in this moment, now, and seeing what happens when you offer this opportunity to others in your care. 

And -- curious about Arm Activation? You can read about it in my book, Educate Your Brain, or Brain Gym® Teacher's Edition by Paul and Gail Dennison.

Warm regards,

Kathy 

Kathy Brown, M.Ed.

Educational Kinesiologist

Licensed Brain Gym® Instructor/Consultant

Author of Educate Your Brain

WEB: www.CenterEdge.com

BLOG: www:WholeBrainLiving.com

BOOK: www.EducateYourBrain.com

1. Brown, Kathy. Educate Your Brain. Phoenix: Balance Point Publishing. 2003. 79-80.
Photograph Copyright© Kathy Riley Brown.

"What Would It Take?" A Question to Expand and Focus Intention

I was working with 8-year-old Celia, who really wished that reading was easier. I asked her for a sample of her reading and she chose a book she had brought with her. She stumbled her way through a few lines: awkward, miscalling words, ignoring punctuation.

Out of all the Brain Gym® options I offered her, she selected a variation of the Lazy 8s activity—walking that pattern on the floor. If you are new to the Lazy 8s activity, you may want to check out this previous blog post before you read any further. 

For now, I’ll simply offer this refresher: Tracing Lazy 8s—an “infinity” pattern—is a way to cultivate the use of both sides of the brain at the same time. 

Doing this activity, the learner starts on one side of the visual and kinesthetic field, and flows across the midline to the other side, and back again, over and over. Someone with learning challenges will often begin this activity quite awkwardly—jerky movements, hesitations, reversals. 

When this skill is easy, automatic, and natural, all kinds of cognitive and coordination activities become much more fluid, even effortless. For example (and greatly simplified), once the two brain hemispheres are teaming more easily, the eyes team more easily as well, allowing them to converge on the same point (letter or word) and track correctly together (left to right) so that reading is easier. 

Over Celia’s previous visits she’d traced this pattern many times on the various Lazy 8s boards I had in my office, initially with some hesitation and a few misfires, but then mostly with success. She still was not automatic and fluid with it. 

Sometimes, what helps is to involve the learner's entire body in the process! By walking this pattern on the floor, they can approach it on a deeper kinesthetic level, by literally moving through the Lazy 8. Perhaps that's why Celia instinctively chose it. 

I began by laying out the 8 pattern on the floor using heavy yarn that would stay in place on the carpet of my office (larger than the one in this illustration). 

We stood together at the center point of the 8—the midline. I asked her if she knew what she needed to do, and she said Yes. Celia was an active child, constantly in motion. She was delighted to be moving! 

Not quite sure about the pattern

She quickly stepped into the middle of the 8 and began walking around the left-side loop. But—rather than crossing over to the other loop of the 8, Celia circled around that left side again! 

As she was returning back to the midline she slowed down, and then stopped entirely, with a puzzled look on her face. I did not tell her what to do. I asked her what she would like to do. She said, “Can I start again?” I said, “Yes, indeed.” She began again, with the same result. 

I got the sense that Celia had started the Lazy 8s pattern without focus, with no preparation, just launching herself into the activity. There she stood, approaching the midpoint of the 8, with no idea how to get from where she was, on one side of the 8, over to the other side.

Here I’ll pause and explain: Even though a learner may be able to see the entirety of the Lazy 8, when the brain is not sufficiently patterned to use both hemispheres together, there seems to be an interruption in perception of the whole pattern. They may get “stuck” on one side or the other, simply making circle after circle. How to resolve this? 

A key question

Again, I didn’t tell Celia what to do. I asked just this one question: “What would it take, to get from this loop, where you are, over to the other loop?”

She stood there, just looking and looking at the pattern in front of her. Then her face changed: I could almost see some part of her brain “switching on.” It took a moment, but she finally stepped forward and crossed the midline, over to the right-side loop. She followed it around and back toward the midline, and slowed again, and paused, and stopped, a confused look back on her face. 

I simply repeated my question: “What would it take, to get from this loop, where you are, over to the other loop?” After just a short pause, she stepped deliberately over the midline and back onto the left side of the 8. 

She continued walking the Lazy 8s pattern, at first slowing down each time she encountered the midline, but soon was on a roll: she wasn’t slowing at all, just flowing easily from one side of the 8 to the other. 

I said, “Let me know when you feel done.” She eventually stepped out of the 8, and with a big grin, said, “That was fun!” I asked, “Was it fun in the beginning?” She thought a moment, and then said, “No, but it got fun when it got easier.” She had a look of great satisfaction on her face. We celebrated with a happy “high-five.” 

Why this approach?

I am a firm believer in allowing children time to figure things out for themselves with a minimum of coaching. This requires patience. No micro-managing. Children are clever, and if they’re already working on something where they’re actively exploring and learning, I don’t want to get in their way. 

I didn’t tell Celia what to do. I didn’t point, or direct. I didn’t say, “Just step across!” or “Look, just follow the line.” If she’d followed a direction like that, she might have stepped across or followed the line—but she would have lost the chance to figure it out on her own, and truly make it her own.

(I always coach parents just to observe—not direct or prompt their child—during a session. This can be challenging for them, as many parents are prone to jumping in to "solve" every problem their child has!)

Calling deeply on your own resources

So, what did I do? I asked a question that prompted Celia to expand her focus. She stood, and just looked. Perhaps she looked at this situation differently than she had ever looked at anything before. I believe that, in this moment, Celia was calling deeply on her own resources, below the layer of automatic impulsivity, to more conscious focus. The result was her own answer.

The thrill of mastery, through accomplishing something new entirely on one’s own, is a treasure. If I had micro-managed Celia into crossing that midline she would have lost the joy of discovery and accomplishment. I would have robbed her of that. 

Yes, sometimes a child needs a little support. I’ve found that, when they want help they’ll look up at me with a questioning expression on their face. Still, I ask what kind of help they want. Regarding a math problem, for example, I might say “Do you want the answer, or information on how to get it?” 

And if a child is truly struggling, I’ll know that this activity is not the right one—they need something simpler, a smaller component, a building-block for that activity—essentially “backing up to move forward,” as Paul E. Dennison, Ph.D., founder of the Brain Gym work, would say. 

Back to Celia

After Celia fluidly walked that Lazy 8s pattern several more times, we went back to the book she had brought with her. She turned to the next page, which she read much more fluidly, miscalling only one word, and pausing or stopping appropriately with the punctuation. She was really pleased with herself. “That was easier!” she said. 

As her mother and I sat chatting, Celia continued to play on the Lazy 8s pattern. She picked up one of my Teddy bears and “walked” it around the pattern, saying, “….aaaaand across the middle to the other side!” Her mother and I just smiled.

In other circumstances

This same approach can be used in myriad other ways. “What would it take to…”

• make your “o” really round?

• see which puzzle piece goes in this space?

• write this word so it sits down on the line?

• kick the soccer ball into the middle of the goal?

• stack those blocks so they’re steady?

I have seen kids (and adults!) make amazing shifts when they call more deeply on their resources and adjust or focus their perception in a new way, inspired by being asked this simple question, and given time to process and figure it out on their own. 

Using this myself

Confession: I wish I remembered to use this same question more often in my own life! When I do, surprising things happen. What would it take to… 

• organize these tax documents?

• complete this list of tasks?

• get that new blog post written and up? 

And so on. Anyone, of any age, can learn to call on already existing resources and organize them in a new way, through a shift in perception. 

It’s just a question away—for you, and the kids in your care.

With warm regards,

Kathy 

Kathy Brown, M.Ed.

Educational Kinesiologist

Licensed Brain Gym® Instructor/Consultant

Author of Educate Your Brain

WEB: www.CenterEdge.com

BLOG: www:WholeBrainLiving.com

BOOK: www.EducateYourBrain.com

©Copyright 2024 Kathy Brown. All rights reserved.
Graphic images copyright© Kathy Brown
Brain Gym® is a registered trademark of the Educational Kinesiology Foundation • www.braingym.org

Understanding the Palmar (Hand) Reflex - and the “Grasp” Metaphor in Life

It’s always interesting to me to see when, in the context of a Brain Gym® session with a client, addressing a retained infant reflex comes up.

Most often, addressing a reflex has to do with specific coordination, postural, or cognitive issues that go along with it. For example, presence of a retained Palmar Reflex, the infant “grasping” reflex, is at the root of all kinds of fine motor coordination problems, especially handwriting, and all the awkward ways people come up with for holding a pencil.

Parents will likely recall how impossible it is to extricate glasses, necklaces, etc. from the grasp of a newborn. That’s Palmar Reflex at work: it’s the neurological command to “hold on for dear life.”

This reflex should be active at birth, and should disappear, or integrate, by about three months of age. 

Checking for the Palmar Reflex
The presence of Palmar Reflex can be tested in various ways. When pressure is applied to the palm of the hand, primarily right at the base the fingers, they automatically flex and grasp very hard. You may also test with pressure along the crease that runs from above the thumb down toward the wrist, or against the web of the thumb. In early infancy, this reflex should be present.

Beyond those early months, the trigger for the reflex should produce no automatic grasping impulse. Any of these tests may prompt the fingers to slightly move—not as a reflexive, neurological impulse, just from the physical pressure on the nearby tissues. However, when the same pressure produces an automatic flexing and grasping action of the fingers, that’s a sign that the reflex is retained. The more automatically and strongly the fingers flex and grasp, the more fully the reflex is present.

And, as it’s a bilateral reflex (one that exists in features on both sides of the body) it’s possible for Palmar Reflex to be retained more strongly in one hand than in the other. 

Side note: 
A retained Palmar Reflex can result in a "fisted" grip on pencil or pen. The standard "pincer" grip is all but impossible to manage when the pencil comes in contact with the hand and stimulates it to grasp.

Stages of integration
The system for addressing retained reflexes that I use most often in my work is the one developed by Claire Hocking, who lives in Australia.

When using her system, a key pre-check is to determine (through muscle checking) the level of integration of the reflex. Each reflex goes through three stages, and must…
• emerge (become evident in the nervous system as a neurological prompting)
• develop (actually do the work that it was designed to do for the development of the child) and then
• integrate (the “training” period for this neurological patterning is finished, so now the same stimulus that has always prompted the reflexive action no longer does so)

A fully mature reflex will have gone through all three stages, and will now be fully integrated. At this point, the nervous system has a full range of choices: grasp firmly, hold just a little, or let go, as the circumstance calls for.

However, if the infant’s developmental continuum is interrupted, it’s possible that any given reflex may not complete this integration process. This means that a reflex may be…
• emerged and developed, but not fully integrated
• emerged, but not fully developed or integrated
• not even fully emerged, so certainly not developed or integrated

When any of these are the case, the full range of abilities associated with that reflex may never appear, leaving the person with stress-based compensations that sap energy and limit possibilities.

The opening for transformation
Once the session facilitator notes the level of development of the learner’s reflex, as part of a balance for a goal that he has chosen and cares about, she takes the him through his choice of learning menu options—selecting from a list of various activities that are known to have an integrating effect for that particular reflex.

In my experience, this kind of balance session has an immediate effect on the reflex being addressed. While with someone with more significant developmental delay it may take two or three successive sessions for a reflex to fully emerge, develop, and then integrate, it’s a common in my office to see great changes in a reflex, in a single session.1

Balancing to let go
Here’s an example. I worked one day with a girl named Gina, whose passion was gymnastics. She loved the balance beam and floor exercises. What she couldn’t do was work on the bars. Her problem was totally mystifying: when she was holding onto the bar, she simply couldn’t let go. Her coach was frustrated, she was frustrated (often in tears at the gym), her mother (who would take her several times a week for very expensive training sessions) was frustrated. They found my office and came for a session.

When working on this “letting go of the bar” issue, I wasn’t at all surprised to have Palmar Reflex come up. A check of Gina’s reflex patterns showed that, in both hands, this reflex was not just emerged, it was very strongly ON—but not the least bit integrated. That meant that, every time the palm of her hand felt pressure, her fingers compulsively gripped.

We have no conscious control over retained reflexes. The stimulus-response of reflexes is not routed through any of our cognitive processing zones that would allow us to use reason or conscious choice in regard to them. We likely have no idea that it’s a reflex that’s pulling our body in a certain way, we just know that some things take extra effort, or even feel impossible. I call retained infant reflexes “the invisible puppeteer.” We’re simply at their mercy.

To get a sample of Gina’s goal I got out a wide dowel rod that I happened to have in a nearby closet, laid it across two chairs that were a couple of feet apart, and invited her to put her hands on it and lean down. Her hands immediately went into a very firm grasp around it. I asked her to keep her hands pressing on the rod, but open her fingers, and she simply couldn’t.

We moved on to the learning menu for this reflex, and Gina chose some

activities from the Palmar Reflex list. By the time she had completed four of these activities, maybe twenty minutes later, she said she felt “done.” I had her lean her palms down on the dowel rod, and she was astonished to see that her hands stayed open: the impulse to grasp was all but gone. Over the next couple of weeks the vestiges of this reflex disappeared altogether, and Gina happily worked on her bar skills at gymnastics.  

Balancing to hold on—for handwriting
Ricky, age ten, had handwriting that was pretty much unreadable. He was constantly losing recess time at his school, to laboriously re-write things his teacher couldn't decipher. So when he arrived for his most recent session, he asked, "Can we fix my handwriting?" I told him I would do my best to work with him on this.

His pre-check of handwriting was really quite something: hardly a single letter was sitting on the line, letters were random sizes, and spacing between letters and words was off. But what got my attention most was the way he was holding his pencil—his fingers were almost straight, and it seemed he had little control over how the pencil moved. I wondered how he could manage to write at all.

I wasn't surprised that his balance called for addressing Palmar Reflex, but Ricky's case was different than usual. Most handwriting issues that call for addressing Palmar Reflex are about the reflex being firmly on—compelling the hand into a fist, like in the story of Gina, above, and resulting in a "fisted grip" on the pencil. 

The pressure-on-the-palm checks showed almost no finger curling in either of Ricky's hands. Under normal circumstances, this could indicate that Palmar was fully integrated. But I didn't think so, because reflexes don't come up as something to be addressed, if there's nothing wrong with them!

I went on to do the other checks, which showed that Palmar wasn't fully emerged in either hand, so it was no wonder that he was having difficulty holding his pencil.

Ricky told me he was taking tennis lessons, but his hand got really tired. I pulled out an old badminton racquet and had him grasp the handle. When I pulled away on the racquet, his hand slipped, despite tremendous effort. I could even see that he was "recruiting" muscles in his arm and shoulder to aid in the effort of holding on: his hand simply couldn't grasp.

Following completing his choices from the learning menu for Palmar Reflex, Ricky's muscle checks showed that the reflex was now fully emerged, and in the process of developing. His fingers were more curved as they held the pencil, and looked like they had more control. He created letters that were more accurately formed, and said, "That was easier!" We checked his grasp on the badminton racquet and he could hold onto it much more firmly when I tried to pull it away. His ability to grasp was finally developing.

It's likely that this reflex will need to be addressed again. I'll keep checking to see how much progress his own nervous system has made toward full integration of it, and do more work with him in future sessions, as needed. 

As this "not emerged" situation for Palmar Reflex is not common, I was surprised when, just a few days later, another client had the very same issue—in both a physical and metaphorical way.

Balancing to hold on—as a metaphor
Sometimes the presence of a reflex causes more than physical coordination issues: it may perpetuate a particular mind-set about what’s possible in life.

I was working with one of my longtime adult clients named Mark, who wanted to resolve a persistent fear he experienced about his future financial security. He is probably a couple of decades from retirement. He is highly skilled in his work, for which he is esteemed by his peers and well paid; has developed a lucrative side business; and is taking all the right investment and planning steps. Everything should be in place for a financially secure future; yet, he experiences periods of anxiety, envisioning financial instability.

The wording he chose for his goal was, “I have faith in a financially secure future for myself.” 

The next step in the balance process is a pre-check—getting a sample of the goal “issue” in action.

When a client’s goal is internal, I like to find a way to make it external, and concrete. For Mark, I picked up one of the patterned pillows in my office and held it about five feet away from him. I said, “Mark, this is your secure financial future. What do you notice about it?”

He said, “It’s way over there.” Muscle checking Mark, with the “financial security” pillow that far away, his muscle check held firmly (meaning, this feels familiar). When I brought the pillow close to him, the muscle check would no longer hold (meaning, having abundance this close feels unfamiliar). I was inspired to have Mark check out another statement: “I get to hold onto my abundance,” and he could barely say the words.

Of all the processes available through my work, Mark’s mind-body system chose to address Palmar Reflex. 

Palmar. The "grasping" reflex. "I don't get to hold onto my abundance." They go together—metaphorically. 

I started out doing the pressure-on-the-palm pre-checks, and Mark wasn’t reactive at all. No matter where I pressed on his palm, there was no flexion of his fingers, no gripping with his hands. 

As I said above, this could indicate that Palmar was totally integrated. But, just as in Ricky's balance session - reflexes don't come up as something to be addressed if there's nothing wrong with them!

In any case, I went on to muscle check for degree of integration for this reflex. In Mark's left hand, Palmar was emerged, but not developed or integrated. In his right hand, it wasn’t even fully emerged. No wonder I was seeing no flexion in his fingers—there was no impulse to grasp, at all.

Personal belief (metaphor) linked back to the physical
I asked, “When you were a kid, did you have trouble learning to write?” He replied that it was torture for him. Holding a pencil was all but impossible. Then I asked if he had trouble with any kind of sports. At first he said No, but then corrected himself, saying, “When I started playing baseball in about third grade, I’d go to hit the ball and the bat would go flying right out of my hands. Again and again. The coach kept yelling at me, “Don't do that!” and somehow I found a way to hold onto the bat. Playing baseball was exhausting.”

We carried on with the balance, and after doing a few activities he chose from the Palmar Reflex learning menu, Mark said he felt finished. The muscle checks now indicated that Palmar was integrated in both hands. He picked up and held some nearby objects in my office, including a plastic bat I just happened to have handy (which he swung a few times), and said it was “a whole new sensation of holding things.”

And on to the metaphorical again
We went back to the original “abundance pillow” pre-check. This time, when the pillow was even a short distance away, it felt wrong to him, and his muscle check didn’t hold; when I brought the pillow right up to him, he happily took it in his hands, and said, “It belongs right here.” That muscle check held firmly.

Now, when he repeated his goal, “I have faith in a financially secure future for myself,” he smiled and nodded, with a totally “on” muscle check. We celebrated with a happy high-five.

He was about to leave, and paused to mention a memory that had just popped up: “When I was a kid I was always in trouble for breaking things. My dad would get really mad, because I twisted knobs or faucet handles too hard, to turn them off or on, to the point where they'd break. I realize now that I was always working extra hard to make them turn, because I really couldn’t hold them at all.”  

And I thought—what kind of extraordinary effort had he had to exert throughout a lifetime of holding onto things? How much constant physical tension had he lived with? What had been the cost to his nervous system, and the rest of his ability to easily learn, grow, and enjoy life?

Improving life on every level
This balance session with Mark was just this afternoon. As I was typing this previous paragraph, an email came in from him:

     Hi Kathy,

     I have to tell you I am feeling like I’m still processing 
     what we did today and stress is flying off my body. I
     still feel a bit of stress but things are unwinding. I feel
     a new confidence that things will flow for me.

     Thank you for your help!

Whatever retained reflex may be draining our energy reserves, it’s also possible that it’s affecting what we believe we can do in life.

When I’m facilitating a balance with a client, and the session ends up calling for work on a specific reflex, I now have a new, reinforced awareness that we’re working not just on how this reflex manifests physically, but how that movement-metaphor unfolds in life, as well.

And that’s the ultimate purpose of all Brain Gym balancing: to live a more effective, comfortable life, on every level. 

And a side note: If you're interested in learning Claire Hocking's reflexes system, I'm delighted to share that she has authorized me to teach her Level I course. You're welcome to join a course that I offer here in Phoenix, or arrange to have me teach it for your group or agency. Follow this link to my Courses Page for more information.

With warm regards,

Kathy 

Kathy Brown, M.Ed.

Educational Kinesiologist

Licensed Brain Gym® Instructor/Consultant

Author of Educate Your Brain

WEB: www.CenterEdge.com

BLOG: www:WholeBrainLiving.com

BOOK: www.EducateYourBrain.com

1. Occupational and Physical Therapists who learn this work are often astounded at how quickly they see reflexes resolve. Many tell me that they were trained in reflex-resolution techniques that call for repeated actions over many weeks or even months, and would most often see minimal gains. I explain that the difference here is that the Brain Gym balance system begins with the client himself setting a goal for change, and then selects his own pathway to get there, from the therapeutic choices available to him. It’s that kind of focused intention, and then calling on the innate intelligence of the learner, himself, that invites into the body the transformational effect of the activities he chooses to do. 
     
At one Reflexes course, an OT watched the first demonstration balance, addressing Spinal Galant Reflex, and observed as the volunteer balance participant shifted from being highly reactive to touch in her low back area, to no reactivity, in the space of perhaps 20 minutes. She said, “But that’s impossible! That would take months!” and then she said, “But I saw it happen.” I turned to her and with a smile I said, “Welcome to Brain Gym!” She later was amazed to experience this level of reflex resolution, herself, as she continued to learn and practice the techniques in class.
     All that said, the clients I most often use these techniques with are "typically-abled, with a developmental glitch." Children with more profound neurological issues would likely progress more slowly.

©Copyright 2019 Kathy Brown. All rights reserved.
Photographs copyright© Laird Brown Photography. All rights reserved.
Brain Gym® is a registered trademark of the Educational Kinesiology Foundation • www.braingym.org

About Physical Contact: Taming a “Touchy” Subject

In the sessions I facilitate with clients, and in the courses I teach, the topic of physical contact comes up.



Permission

In Brain Gym® workshops, for example, after everyone learns the Lazy 8s movement I often introduce the idea of doing Lazy 8s on each other’s backs. This is a fun activity, bringing this infinity-pattern into kinesthetic awareness.


Many people, especially young children, find it quite soothing. I’ve calmed many infants by tracing Lazy 8s on their back. Classroom teachers tell me that their students enjoy pairing up and offering this kind of friendly connection with each other. 



However, my instruction to those learning this activity is this: 


     Always get permission for physical contact 
     
     from the person you’re working with.



Language is everything.

Notice my words here: permission for “physical contact,” not “touch.” 

In our world, the word “touch” carries quite a charge. Depending on the circumstances, the words “He touched me” could be neutral information about a past action, or a highly emotional accusation.



So, when my students fall into language for this kind of permission by saying “May I touch you?” I suggest that they find clearer, more specific words.



Neutral and informative

Anytime there’s physical contact, the language around it should be as neutral and informative as possible. 

I like to give very specific information about the kind of physical contact the person can expect.



In the case of this particular activity, the language I recommend is simply: “May I do Lazy 8s on your back, with the flat of my hand?” These words provide a clear image of exactly what will happen, where it will happen, how long it's likely to go on, and a quality of contact and pressure to be expected.



And your verbal timing should provide space for the person to say “No.” There should always be a pause—an opportunity for the person to consider, and to answer back. No rushing through this. When someone does say “No,” I thank them for being so very clear about what works for them. 



Sometimes I’ll suggest an alternative: “May I do Lazy 8s on your arm?” Because this is a location that the person can see and monitor, it likely feels safer.



Watch for signs of stress
.
I have no idea who among my clients or students might have some kind of physical abuse in their past—or present. Without making a big deal of it, I simply have in the back of my mind a subtle monitoring for signs of discomfort: holding breath, turning pale, sound of alarm in their voice, or a long pause before a reluctant “Yes.” I’ve seen all these. 



For those I’m teaching, signs of stress may include standing too far from the person they’re working with, a jerky approach, lack of eye contact, or an uncomfortable giggle.



When I notice these things with a client I don’t necessarily say anything; however, I pause in the session and suggest that we both have some water, sit in Hook-ups, and take a few deep breaths. At that point, I ask if the person is ready to continue. I notice carefully, and go from there, adjusting as necessary. 



With a workshop student I may have a bit of a conversation with them about their comfort level with physical contact, and suggest the same water, Hook-ups, and a few deep breaths, as above. If there’s time, I may take the opportunity to do a mini balance with them on this topic.



Here are some examples of how I manage specific kinds of physical contact in my office:



On a first meeting

As an Educational Kinesiologist, muscle checking is a standard part of what I do. No matter the age of the person I’m working with, I make sure that their first experience of contact with me as a practitioner is them moving toward me. This is a very subtle, but profound, difference.


To do this, I demonstrate an arm position for muscle checking, saying, “Hold your arm in about this position.” Then I put my hand about three inches above their forearm and say, “now bring your arm up under my hand until we connect.” Then comes the rest of muscle checking using that arm.


Points on the body
One aspect of the upper-level Edu-K work is to check an "indicator" muscle (usually involving the arm), while contacting various points on the body, to detect stress in certain functions.



For example, to determine if there’s stress in the “Breathing Dimension” we muscle check the arm while holding fingers of the other hand to a spot under the left side of the ribcage. My practice is to explain that I’d like to “connect with where you breathe to see if it’s happy,” point to that spot on myself, and say, "Is this OK?" Following a "yes" or a nod, I carry on with the muscle check on the client. 



As the client becomes familiar with who I am and how the process unfolds, getting repeated permissions for the same kind of checking becomes unnecessary. However, anytime the process calls for some new kind of physical contact, I always ask permission.



Tracing patterns

Some of the techniques I use are the Developmental Building Block Activities from Cecilia Koester’s BG170 course, Brain Gym® for Special Education Providers.


Two of these techniques call for tracing along the body in specific patterns. For example, the Navel Radiation activity calls for tracing on the body (greatly simplified) from navel out to fingertips, back to navel, out to the toes, back to the navel, etc. 



Before I facilitate this on anyone of any age, I explain clearly where I’ll be tracing, and get permission. If the person looks the least bit uncertain, I model it first, tracing on my own body. I point toward my bodywork table and ask them if they want to lie on their back or their belly for this (kids love being on the table), and allow them to position themselves as they like. 



I begin the process and ask them to guide me: faster, slower, deeper, lighter. I tell my youngest clients, “Drive me like a car and tell me just what to do.” In this playful way, I give children authority to direct their own experience so it’s most helpful to them. (They always know exactly what they need.) 



When this kind of physical contact is confident, clear, professional, and done with respect for the personal boundaries of the person receiving it, recipients are able to relax deeply and reap the neurological benefits of this kind of therapeutic pattern-building experience.1 



The importance of personal clarity

As a practitioner, a key element is to totally know that what you’re offering is neutral physical contact, for a specific, helpful purpose. 

Any reluctance or discomfort you may feel will certainly be picked up on by the person you’re working with.


If you notice hesitation in this regard, I highly recommend going through a personal balance session, perhaps for a goal along the lines of, “I comfortably offer and receive support through neutral, helpful physical contact.” 



When I work with a client, I stand in the confidence that muscle checking and other kinds of therapeutic physical contact are a helpful component of facilitating a session. I move forward like it's a matter of course in my work (which it is). 

Wishing you all a comfortable, professional connection with your clients! 



With warm regards,

Kathy

Kathy Brown, M.Ed.

Educational Kinesiologist

Licensed Brain Gym® Instructor/Consultant

Author of Educate Your Brain

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1. Cecilia Koester has developed a one-day workshop to teach just these Developmental Building Block Activities, and I am one of the instructors she has authorized to teach it. If this material interests you, you're welcome to contact me about attending an upcoming course or scheduling one specifically for your school, group, or agency.

©Copyright 2019 Kathy Brown. All rights reserved.
Photograph copyright© Laird Brown Photography. All rights reserved.
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