Digging into Neuroplasticity

Last year I attended a conference about muscular dystrophy.  Despite what may sound like gloomy subject matter, it was incredibly exciting with researchers talking about what they were working on and what they have achieved with such positivity and hope.  In and amongst this positivity and hope and details about amazing new findings were honest discussions about what we don't know.  One researcher, talking about genetics of muscular dystrophy, said that genetic research was like digging a hole - as you dig deeper, you unearth more information but you don't necessarily get to the bottom of the hole, you just get a bigger hole with more possible information to unearth, and that at present the hole still seemed bottomless.  

The concept of neuroplasticity has made its way into pop culture, seemingly without the same honest discourse about the bottomless hole of what we still don't actually know, what has yet to be unearthed.  One minute the earth is flat, the next minute it is round end of story...  I feel like everybody has jumped on the neuroplasticity wagon - and the promise of neuroplasticity is being used to sell everything from exercise to rehabilitation to learning an instrument to counselling to crystal healing to healthy food without anyone knowing or understanding the concept as anything more than 'something that's good for your brain'.  

Certainly my professions, Conductive Education and exercise, have both been linked to neuroplasticity - so I suppose I should be excited that what I do is so avant guard and cutting edge that it makes your brain grow.  It isn't that I don't think these things, my things might actually promote neuroplasticity.  It's more that I cringe when something so interesting and important as a concept as neuroplasticity is being bandied around without real meaning; I almost expect to see things like 'neuroplasticity guaranteed' or 'book now so you don't miss out on your chance for this neuroplasticity opportunity'.   I also cringe at the reductionist idea that something as all encompassing as education or exercise or well-being can be reduced to neurobiology as if neurobiology trumps every other psychosocial or human experience.  What if, when we are actually able to assess whether a practice or intervention promotes neuroplasticity, we find that dancing the tango is just dancing? Does the music stop?

Don't get me wrong - neuroplasticity is exciting business, especially for people with neurological conditions or brain injuries, the people who love them, and the people who work to support and rehabilitate them.  That our brains are capable of protecting, rewiring or repairing themselves and that there are things we can do to promote, nurture, enable, and even enhance these processes are amazing and fascinating and exciting.  And yes, we understand a little bit about some of these processes, and yes we are digging deeper and unearthing more, but we have only just started digging and the hole is only getting bigger - the bottom is nowhere to be seen.  I actually hope that we never find the bottom of this hole - that we never understand everything about our amazing brains, that neurobiology doesn't explain everything... that we continue to unearth mysteries about our minds, our souls, and ourselves as humans.

My original intention when I started writing today was to open the conversation about what we do actually know about the effects of exercise on the brain... Sorry, I have digressed.  I will revisit that topic in my next blog post.  But for now...

FIXING A HOLE

Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust

It makes me sad that so many well intentioned charities and non-profit organisations struggle because they rely on old school models of financial viability - begging, donations, hand outs, grants, and philanthropy -- instead of developing sustainable models of self sufficiency through things like social enterprise and responsible capital ventures. It makes me sad that these organisations are so stuck in this old way of doing things that even in times of financial crisis that threaten their very survival they cannot change. In the same way that a practice like Conductive Education is a paradigm shift from a medical model approach to managing disability, charities learning to think like businesses is a paradigm shift and it makes me sad that there is so little help for charities who need to come around this corner if they are going to survive.

Don't get me wrong - I like the idea of living in a world made of "faith, trust, and pixie dust" as much as the next person. In fact, those who know me well would probably tell you that in my head and in my heart that is the world that I live in, and I would respond by saying that believing in that world influences the way that I choose to move through this world. This world needs people who create potential for "faith, trust, and pixie dust" by creating ways to make important things happen -- and that includes finding ways to cover the costs of whatever these important things are. We don't have to all agree on what those important things are, but we do have to agree that sometimes opportunities need to be created and where appropriate capitalised on, so that more important things in this world can get done -- so that there is more pixie dust to go around. That is my personal definition of entrepreneurship.

For some people, the important thing is about human exploration, getting people to mars; others try to invent things that will make our lives more efficient; some want to influence the world through the establishment of an essential service, for others the important things are to do with music and art. Everyone has their passions and priorities. In my world those important things that need to get done are around helping more people through Conductive Education and through exercise and movement. I've left the non profit sector because I believe that out here in the real world I can build something that will create more pixie dust; in the charity sector I was wasting time waiting for pixie dust, begging for pixie dust, and then having to filter my portion of pixie dust through hoops and red tape and then still bow down to the pixie dust purse holder who dictated how I could use that dust. By this time the pixie dust feels more like regular dust - the sparkle is gone.

I look to people in my field who seem to leave a sparkly trail of pixie dust wherever they go -- people who have created business models that have enabled them to conductively help more people, and to do so on their terms, while adding to the available pool of pixie dust. I always look to them for inspiration, to admire what they have done and created, to admire their work ethic, determinism, and can-do attitude, and to admire their courage to step into this world and to do something different instead of letting themselves wither in dystopia of the other. I look to these conductive entrepreneurs to admire their ability to cherish and uphold the ideals of "faith, trust, and pixie dust while carving their own path of "second star to the right and straight on 'til morning”. 

Thank you conductive entrepreneurs, and thank you J.M Barrie and Peter Pan too!

Gotta have Faith

It's a long way to the top and other lessons in humility...

A conductor is certainly a specialist, but there is a very big difference between being a specialist and being an expert - and I love that difference.  I specialise in teaching people with neuro-motor disorders strategies and skills to enable them to manage their bodies better.  I don't make up these tricks and techniques, they are not my intellectual property - and I see my role, my specialty, as being able to articulate and share these solutions as openly and as freely as possible, and to facilitate the process of sharing and tweaking solutions that have worked for other people with similar challenges.  I have learned some of these tricks from other conductors, but most have been learned by being a partner in a problem solving process with an individual, and more often by letting my clients teach me the tricks they have worked out for themselves.  This means that the expertise and success are not mine; it means that I am teacher-learner combined, it means that I'm always on the lookout for new tricks to add to my repertoire and therefore always open to learning and growing, and it means professional humility is a part of being a conductor and I love that.

Lessons in humility come packaged in many wonderful formats.  Last week BC, a private client decided to stop training with me.  BC is a woman with advanced Parkinson's who started training with me because she was having frequent falls and trouble getting out of bed.  After a few weeks of private in home sessions she had mastered the tricks and techniques we had been working on to the point that she is no longer falling and can now get out of bed unassisted, and she no longer needed me to come to her home and practice with her.  I could choose to dwell on not being needed - but in reality no longer being needed is the best possible outcome and I'm celebrating. Conductive humility means knowing it is not about me - and that it never was - and there is nothing better than being around somebody who learns something and stepping back to let them own it.

Lessons in humility are sometimes delivered by posties on motorbikes. RP is a stroke survivor and a Harley Davidson enthusiast who has set up a rehabilitation space in his garage with parallel bars and steps - a dream workspace for a mobile conductor.  Last week while I was there working with RP, the postie - a big burly guy on a motorcycle - came up the long driveway to deliver the mail.  This week the same postie came up the driveway on his motorcycle. He had no mail to deliver, just wanted to tell RP that a few years ago he had been in a bad motorcycle crash resulting in a brain injury, and despite what everyone told him he was now walking again, and was back on his motorcycle, and that RP shouldn't give hope.  That day, for the first time, RP and I walked all of the way down and all of the way back up his long driveway.  This week RP did it again, twice in one session.  Conductive humility is being able to celebrate that after months of RP and I working towards something together and of me encouraging and teaching RP, what got him over the hump was a burly postie on a motorcycle and his heartfelt act of kindness. 

It's a long way to the top - but he made it!

From Sydney with Love

I have always said how lucky I am that in my work as a conductor I have met some of the most wonderful people.  Today I received a letter from one of those wonderful people - someone who trusted me as a conductor, someone who has gone on to become a much cherished friend, someone who has taught me more than I could ever hope to teach her, someone I hope to make proud as I start again again in my new venture in Conductive Education.  

Maria has spoken at an international conference about how CE has benefitted her as an adult with cerebral palsy, has travelled the world competing with Sailability and more recently just for pleasure, and is working on an autobiography.  

But today she took the time to write these words, which I am humbled to share with you:

Maria writes...

My sincere congratulations to Lisa for launching her new business,Transformations: Movement for EVERY Body.  I wish Lisa every success in her new venture.

 

I met Lisa in 2003 when my husband and I were invited to take part in a pilot program of Conductive Education.  This program was aimed at adults with Cerebral Palsy, and was the first of its kind for adults in Australia.

 

I had heard about Conductive Education but really did not know what to expect or how the treatment could help me, but at the age of 48, I was willing to try anything that might help me to keep my mobility and independence. Despite being born with Cerebral Palsy, I have always taken great pride in my independence but as I age, my independence has become slowly increasingly difficult to maintain.

 

It was mid way through my second term of Conductive Education that I began to understand the fundamentals of the treatment.  I started to implement much of what I had learnt in Conductive Education to help me in my everyday life. I found myself using controlled breathing and counting in my head when I had difficulty in doing simple tasks.  It always works for me.

 

In December 2010 I made a submission to present a paper at the 7th World Congress on Conductive Education in Hong Kong.  My submission titled “Conductive Education Is Not Only For The Young” was accepted and with the support of Lisa and Alexander I travelled to Hong Kong and presented my paper.  I was very proud to present my paper and I enjoyed listening to other presenters speaking about the many aspects of Conductive Education.

 

Unfortunately I do not have access to Conductive Education any longer. I now attend a main stream gym and work out in the swimming pool weekly. In many ways both are similar to Conductive Education but they don’t teach me the tasks I need to remain independent.

 

I often wonder how different my life would have been if I had access to Conductive Education at a young age

 

Maria Dalmon.