It happens in Awareness Through Movement® lessons and in life...

Maybe you've noticed it, Reader -- when things are easy and going along smoothly, or maybe something was difficult at first, but then things start to flow. There's less friction. A noticeable shift.

That's when, all too often, one of two things happens.

One, a sense of "I've got it" arrives. The mind, ever goal or achievement-oriented, registers a sense of accomplishment.

Then, it's easy to start feeling antsy or ready to move on to the next thing. We're no longer present with what is, but rather jumping ahead, looking for the next problem, challenge or dopamine hit.

The second is subtler (and they often go together). The quality of our attention dims. A veil descends, awareness is muted. We become lulled and dulled.

This is not unusual or unnatural. Neurologically speaking, your nervous system is wired to track novelty, effort, friction and change. When those settle — when ease arrives — attention recedes. That's not a character flaw. It's just what nervous systems do.

But...

What if, instead of looking for the next dopamine hit or falling into a lulled, dulled state of being, we instead brighten and refine our attention, lift the veil and be aware?

The non-dual teacher Nisargadatta Maharaj said something I keep returning to: "Don't get bored with peace. Be in it. Go deeper into it."

Here, it feels to me that a kind of luminous aliveness is what I experience.

Obviously, I don't always organize myself thusly, but I have learned a little about what doesn't work.

It doesn't work to hunt for this luminous aliveness as though it were elusive prey to be captured.

You just have to not leave. Pay attention and be open.

Knowing that we can all tend to lull, dull and/or suffer from the next-shiny-object-syndrome helps us be mindful and return. It's easy to wander when things are simple and effortless. Instead, return. Soak in all that is in those moments. Open to the expansiveness of awareness.

This is one of the quieter arts that Feldenkrais® practice cultivates: learning to stay awake when nothing hurts. To find the lesson inside the ease, not just on the way to it.

Cheers,

Gisele