Is Direction a Thing?

Question:

Do you think direction is a thing or are you saying that direction doesn't exist as a concept and that everything is inhibition?

Answer:

Animals possess sophisticated neural networks that coordinate movement with incredible precision. Their nervous systems can process sensory information rapidly and send coordinated signals to muscles, allowing for quick reflexes and smooth, integrated motion.

We have a similar capacity for instantaneous reactions and smooth, well-orchestrated movement, but human life with its prolonged sitting, repetitive motions, and limited movement has evolved in a way that creates muscle imbalances, weakness, and stiffness. The bottom line is: we practice interfering with our natural coordination every single day, and we get better and better at that interference as the years go by.

However, our inborn natural ability to move efficiently still informs our daily movement; it's just "buried" under layers of habitual interference that we become so accustomed to that we are barely aware the interference is happening. But when we can inhibit our initial habitual response to the stimulus to move, we create a gap between intention and execution, and in that empty space our natural coordination can have a little more influence on the way we are about to move.

In that moment, we experience a sense of increased ease because our natural preparation for the movement we're intending to do requires less effort than our habitual way of doing that movement. That experience of easing represents more efficient coordination of the body parts involved. This happens because it aligns better with the vast movement intelligence we possess as vertebrate animals.

In my experience, if we can inhibit our initial, habitual response to a stimulus, and get a little curious about some area in our body where we are currently experiencing a bit of relative ease, we prevent our habit from superseding our natural coordination and then we can be moved by an unconscious form of direction that's usually obscured by our habits, but that's always ready to guide with ease us whenever we open the door for it.