Body Language, New Massage Bodywork Techniques
from
Erik Dalton, Ph.D.
Myoskeletal Alignment Techniques ® (MAT) is a breakthrough
for all deep tissue bodywork therapists. The Bodywork article
below was a feature in Massage Magazine 2001. MAT was also the
feature article subject in Massage Magazine for three straight
months in 2002.
“Body Language... An excursion through the alphabet in somatic
terms.”
by Thomas Myers,
Massage Magazine, Jan/Feb 2001
Copyright © 2001 Massage Magazine
| For our bodywork
pioneer this issue, we present Erik Dalton, Ph.D.
Although he may not be as
well-known as some of the others in our bodywork alphabet, he
will stand for a diverse group of somatic explorers of depth in
the way that Columbus stands for a whole host of seafaring
explorers reaching across the Atlantic.
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Why choose Dalton? In searching
around the bodywork field, there are a number of teachers and
practitioners who stake a claim on depth, in the literal sense of
"deeper into the body". Dalton's method is termed Myoskeletal
Alignment Technique (MAT), which surely by its very name claims to
be deeper than, say, Myofascial Whatever or Whoosis Neuro-Muscular.
I suppose if you follow this argument, you would be left with the
chiropractors as the masters of depth, since they deal consistently
with the deepest level of tissues we spoke of above, the bones and
the ligaments right around the bones. However, I am not going there.
For one thing, my intuitive sense balks at characterizing the
chiropractors as a group - however sensitive and nuanced some
individual practitioners of the art may be - as masters of depth
healing. For another, I want to stay in the domain of soft-tissue
manipulation.
In the realm of the recent
soft-tissue renaissance in hands-on healing, structural integration
(Rolfing and its derivatives, the heirs of Ida Rolf, Ph.D.) have
been widely perceived - correctly or not - as going the deepest into
the body, among the many methods available. Sometimes this
assessment is made in admiration, sometimes in condemnation - “Oh,
yeah, Rolfing - isn't that the one where they tear the muscles off
the bones and make you scream about your mother?” Dalton is one of
those heirs of Ida Rolf, who is making a particular claim to tissue
depth in his teaching, so let us hear his story briefly told, and
see what it can tell us about depth healing in general.
From the outset, let me be clear that
I am not saying that Dalton's MAT work is a knock-off of Rolfing.
Each of the heirs of Ida Rolf - even those who claim her mantle -
have built upon her work and made innovations (and maybe even lost
some of her broad perspective, though who will admit it?). In
Dalton's case, though some of the technique and outlook may have
come from his Rolfing training in 1983, his additions and
developments have come from his subsequent self-exploration after an
injury, from osteopathy, and from the pioneering Czech soft-tissue
researcher, Vladimir Janda, M.D.
What Dalton shares with other
structural integrators is the concept, as his ads proclaim, of
"Don't chase the pain!" MAT's emphasis is on prevention -
recognize the strain patterns, says Dalton, before they become pain
patterns. Of course there are many other similarities in the
emphasis on good body use, listening to the tissue and working with
the Golgi tendon organ response, and obviously in the goal of total
body alignment and ease. Where Dalton starts to carve his own trail
is in bringing the soft-tissue worker closer to the individual joint
facets in the spine.
In the late 1980s, Dalton sustained two martial-arts injuries:
one to his lower-back ligaments; another, far more serious, was a
non-displaced fracture at C4-5 that occurred when he tried to resist
a judo throw and landed on his head. Although following the injury
he wore a halo to stabilize his neck, he had continuing radiating
pain down his right arm. As a Rolfing practitioner, he kept
stripping and working the tissue around his own upper back and neck,
which would bring temporary relief, but soon the drive-you-crazy
pain was back, and Dalton was out looking for the miracle that would
take it away more permanently.
Dalton's miracle came, in the end,
from his own hands. One morning, working his way through the
paraspinal muscles, he encountered bone-like knots in the soft
tissue down near the level of the joint capsule, in the deepest
layers of the multifidi and rotatores muscles, knots he had not
encountered before. "As an experiment," writes Dalton in his manual,
Myoskeletal Alignment Techniques, "I slowly began to steadily apply
pressure directly to one of the bony knots in the laminar groove
about the C5-6 level. Suddenly, it felt as though the vertebral
segment was pushing back at me. My fingers resisted the bony recoil
in the same way I had resisted during deep tendon work many times
before. To my surprise, the bone reacted in much the same manner as
the tendons - it retreated. As the vertebra retreated, I gently took
up the slack and waited for the recoil against my fingers."
Dalton continued to experiment with
this deep probing process of resistance and then taking up the
slack, adding a respiratory component, working with the breath
until the knot had disappeared and the bone had settled. Dalton
worked on a few more of these knots over the following quarter of an
hour, and then, sensing that his body had had enough, left it alone
to settle. From that day forward, his pain lessened and his function
improved, though his journey to understand what had happened had
just begun.
Eventually, with more work and more
experimentation, Dalton realized that the fibrotic lumps in the
fourth layer of spinal musculature - the deepest layers of the
transversospinalis - were a key to assessing and treating underlying
vertebral dysfunction. This makes the link between osseous
manipulation - chiropractic and osteopathy - and the soft-tissue
work of massage therapists and bodyworkers. Dalton's work focuses on
the usual myofascial balance that structural integrators aim for,
plus this near-bone musculo-ligamentous layer - a "bony intent" that
sees bone as a soft tissue - the deepest layer, and a slow-changing
layer, to be sure, but still a layer of connective tissue. This is,
of course, the actual fact, but the artificial division between hard
and soft tissues is one that has informed most of our education, and
led to some separation between those who work with one
(chiropractors and osteopaths) and those who work with the other
(massage therapists and bodyworkers). Dalton's work, by progressing
more deeply to the junction between the two, is beginning to bridge
the gap.
Bridging the gap, but not crossing
it, as Dalton is quick to point out. "One of the things that sets
the MAT method apart from other modalities", he writes, "is the
emphasis placed on restoration of function to joint capsules;
particularly, restoration of joint play to the capsular
articulations. Obviously, all our joints have a capsule of some
kind, often consisting of fibrous, fatty, membranous or
cartilaginous tissue". Although massage therapy schools commonly
teach treatments for joints such as the glenohumeral,
temporomandibular, clavicular or the knees, MAT techniques "are
directed primarily at the articulations of the vertebral, rib and
sacroiliac capsules", Dalton says. "Even though capsular routines
are a major part of our program, I want to stay away from comparing
the MAT program to chiropractic". Dalton devotes ample space in his
manual to separating the two. "We work to restore mobility to the
soft tissues of the joint capsules. When applying pressure to the
articular pillars of the cervical spine, our intent is to not only
mobilize the joint capsule, but to help release 4th-layer muscles
like the intertransversarii that commonly cause joint fixations".
"Therapists should not be digging on the intertransversarii
because of the neural structures surrounding the transverse
processes, but these extremely important and frequently hypertonic
muscles need to be worked, to help restore cervical function," he
continues. "Therefore, we use the bones as levers to release
these hard-to-mobilize soft tissues. This is a different concept
from chiropractic, where their focus is on localizing down to the
dysfunctional lesion and thrusting the joint into a non-physiologic
range of motion to unlock facets often stuck from adhesions caused
by repeated friction to the articular cartilages. The [American
Massage Therapy Association's] rules make it clear that massage
therapists are not allowed to take the joint into a non-physiologic
range of motion. I intentionally do not disobey this rule, and this
is what keeps the Myoskeletal Techniques within the massage therapy
scope of practice."
While zeroing in on these specific
and deep soft tissues, Dalton keeps a broad focus: "My intention
is to help today's therapist recognize that most of these chronic
pain problems are much more involved than trigger points [or] muscle
toxicity. Concentrating on neck and back dysfunctions, I try to
teach that it is a waste of time to view chronic pain as emanating
from a single structure. So we use (Janda's) muscle imbalance
theories, ligament work and capsular release techniques to achieve
that goal."
Dalton further differentiates himself from both Rolfing and
chiropractic in two ways. One is through his concentration on
assessment of the muscle firing order in walking (as developed by
Janda, though the treatment is specific to Dalton). He also
distinguishes his work through techniques for generating muscle tone
via spindle-stimulating techniques (see Body Language, "C,"
November/December 2000), and frictioning techniques specifically
designed to stimulate fiber proliferation in lax ligaments and
capsules. Although the proximal and distal crossed syndromes of
Janda - looking for the muscle patterns that predictably contain the
strain patterns that lead to the pain patterns - are a very
important element in soft-tissue work, they will be considered in a
later column. Right now, we wanted to explore Erik Dalton's unique
contribution to depth.
DEPTH
Depth has been a problem for Rolfing
bodywork since its inception. Part of the reason that Rolfing
got such a reputation for pain is that Ida Rolf kept exhorting her
students to "Go deeper!" Those of us who were just starting out in
this business, in the first rush of pioneering enthusiasm, took "go
deeper" to mean "go harder." It was a limitation in her teaching,
and definitely a limitation in our understanding. More than two
decades later, the teaching of depth in Rolfing and structural
integration schools has changed considerably, though the reputation
lingers on.
My own journey into depth was changed by Ida Rolf herself in a
singular moment. In 1978 I was in the midst of my advanced
training with her. As it turned out, this was Rolf's last training -
she was to die of congestive heart failure and complications from
rectal cancer less than six months later at the age of 83. During
this training, she spent most of her time in a wheelchair, although
she could still walk for short distances. Mostly, she directed the
work of others, though she occasionally would do some hands-on work
herself.
On this particular afternoon, I was working with Tweed, my model.
Tweed was a nurse, a bright and gentle soul who unfortunately was
compelled to live with a severe ideopathic scoliosis, which had
strongly distorted her rib cage and spine. At that time, I was
living and working in Little Rock, Arkansas, and Tweed, who had
benefited greatly from our first 10-session series (I had learned a
lot too), had traveled all the way to Philadelphia to be my model
for advanced sessions under Ida Rolf's direction. This afternoon,
Rolf's eyes were going from watchful to baleful to increasingly
frustrated. Tweed was seated on a bench, slowly bending forward over
her knees, while I stood behind her, using the flat of my knuckles
to open the locked myofascia in her knotted erectors.
Ida Rolf was fidgeting in her wheelchair, saying "Get in there,
man!" - at which I would redouble my efforts, and Tweed would
grin and bear it as her back got redder - but not longer. Finally,
Rolf could take it no more: she wheeled her chair over closer to the
back of the bench, barking my shins with the footrests. She jammed
on the wheelchair brakes so the chair wouldn't move, and then leaned
way forward. At full reach from the chair she was just able to put
two gnarled fingertips on either side of Tweed's spinous processes.
Slowly her fingertips traveled down Tweed's twisted spine.
Tweed, who was bent forward and so did not know Rolf and I had
changed places, cried, "That's it, now you've got it!" as her
back started to let go of another layer of long-held tension. At
this moment I realized that depth was going to be an elusive and
hard-won property. If this failing little old lady could achieve
more depth with two fingertips at full reach out of a wheelchair
than I could in my young prime, standing right over the client with
my fists firmly placed in her back, then certainly going deeper and
going harder were not remotely equated. Of course, a truer language
of depth has suffused our profession in the years since.
Here is a summary list of my current
thinking on the components of depth, with a brief explanation
following:
1. The three ins: intention, invitation and information
2. Practitioner body use
3. Slower is better
4. Knowing the anatomy
5. Resonance
1) A clear intention precedes your
fingers into the tissues, so that mind and body are aligned. Do
you know what your intention is each time you enter the field of the
other person? Having a clear intent makes achieving depth so much
easier for both of you. Each move is also an invitation - I love
this word, it means bringing life in - an invitation to greater
awareness, greater movement, greater relaxation. If your hands are
suffused with the attitude of invitation as you come into the body,
the waves of tension and resistance part in front of you, and depth
is more easily found. And finally, each move informs - brings in
form. That is the uniqueness of bodywork, Deane Juhan tells us:
Nothing is added but information, nothing is subtracted but what the
body lets go of. Hands-on work is essentially an educative process.
If - and I am talking to myself as well - we come into the body with
the intention of informing the tissues, giving them information they
might be missing, our work is very different from when we come in
with the intention of fixing it - breaking up that fascial adhesion,
stretching that spasmodic muscle, annihilating that trigger point,
whatever.
2) Effective body use on the practitioner's part is a second
essential element - use your muscles and your force to change
tissue, and the disturbance to the client will be much greater
than if you use your bones and your weight. Not only will you
generate resistance in your client if you muscle your way in, but
your hands and shoulders will likely not serve you well for a long
career. The absolute minimum force to get the job done while
maintaining maximum sensitivity to the many levels of the client's
state, both local and global, is our goal here. Good practitioner
body use, seen in this light, becomes more than a good idea, it's
the law.
3) Speed is the enemy of depth - the faster you go, the more
resistance you generate. Waiting and sinking and swimming slowly
through the tissue takes a little longer - but like the tortoise,
wins the race. How fast is determined by two simple questions.
First, is the tissue melting in front of your fingers? If you have
to pry it open, you are going too fast. If nothing is happening and
you are bored, you are probably going too slowly. If it is melting
just in front of your hand (or elbow or whatever), you are sitting
in the Goldilocks seat - just right. The second question is in your
perception of the client: Is she trying to get away from what you
are doing? If your work includes the client having what Ida Rolf
called "the motor intention to withdraw," then, in my opinion, you
are going too fast.
4) Admitting my prejudice - I am an anatomy teacher - I find that
depth is also a function of ever-more-precise knowledge of exactly
what is under your hands. If I can reconstruct the picture of
where I am in my memory and connect that image to what I am feeling
in my hands, my intuition and my ability to go deep improve by leaps
and bounds. If I am lost in a wash of tissues whose orientation and
purpose I am not clear about, my intuitions become vague and fairly
useless.
5) Last but by no means least is the
concept and experience of resonance. There are so many rhythms
in the body - the rise and fall of breathing, the beat of the heart,
the hum of metabolism, the buzz of the brain waves, the idling purr
of muscle tonus, the ebb and flow of the cranial pulse, the
irregular grumble of peristalsis, the reciprocal metronome of
walking, and perhaps a hundred more drumbeats, known and unknown.
Training your awareness to your favorite pulses and increasing your
sensitivity to the biologic rhythms allows you to enter a state of
resonance with your clients. When you are so linked, your ability to
make deep change, to obtain access to the deeper layers of tissue,
as well as the deeper layers of being, increases wonderfully.
What would you add? What is your
experience of depth, and how do you attain it? Depth is an
elusive concept, an artistic experience, a mysterious property. The
list above is my current one drawn from my practice, and developed
even more in my attempt to lead others to depth in my classes. These
are the doors to depth that will lead to opening new doors of
somatic experience for our clients.
For more information about Erik Dalton's technique, call (800)
709-5054 or click here to read more
articles
Footnotes:
1. Mysteries of the Alphabet, by Marc-Alain Ouaknin, 1999, Abbeville
Press, London, England.
Thomas Myers studied directly
with Drs. Ida Rolf and Moshe Feldenkrais, and has practiced
integrative bodywork for more than 25 years in a variety of cultural
and clinical settings. He directs
Kinesis
Seminars, Inc., which develops and runs international training
courses for manual and movement therapists. Myers served as a
founding member of the National Certification Board for Therapeutic
Massage and Bodywork, and as chair of the anatomy faculty at the
Rolf Institute. His articles have appeared in numerous magazines and
journals, and a book is now underway on his Anatomy Trains
Myofascial Meridians approach.
Please note: This article and the
accompanying graphics are not a substitute for hands-on training.
Readers are urged to seek training and/or to self-assess to make
sure they have sufficient education and experience to understand the
information presented here and to safely perform the techniques
described.
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