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13 Oct 2024
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How the Brain Links Gestures, Perception and Meaning

 

Remember the last time someone flipped you the bird? Whether or not that single finger was accompanied by spoken obscenities, you knew exactly what it meant.

The conversion from movement into meaning is both seamless and direct, because we are endowed with the capacity to speak without talking and comprehend without hearing. We can direct attention by pointing, enhance narrative by miming, emphasize with rhythmic strokes and convey entire responses with a simple combination of fingers.

The tendency to supplement communication with motion is universal, though the nuances of delivery vary slightly. In Papua New Guinea, for instance, people point with their noses and heads, while in Laos they sometimes use their lips. In Ghana, left-handed pointing can be taboo, while in Greece or Turkey forming a ring with your index finger and thumb to indicate everything is A-OK could get you in trouble.

Despite their variety, gestures can be loosely defined as movements used to reiterate or emphasize a message — whether that message is explicitly spoken or not. A gesture is a movement that “represents action,” but it can also convey abstract or metaphorical information. It is a tool we carry from a very young age, if not from birth; even children who are congenitally blind naturally gesture to some degree during speech. Everybody does it. And yet, few of us have stopped to give much thought to gesturing as a phenomenon — the neurobiology of it, its development, and its role in helping us understand others’ actions. As researchers delve further into our neural wiring, it’s becoming increasingly clear that gestures guide our perceptions just as perceptions guide our actions.

An Innate Tendency to Gesture 

Susan Goldin-Meadow is considered a titan in the gesture field — although, as she says, when she first became interested in gestures during the 1970s, “there wasn’t a field at all.” A handful of others had worked on gestures but almost entirely as an offshoot of nonverbal-behavior research. She has since built her career studying the role of gesture in learning and language creation, including the gesture system that deaf children create when they are not exposed to sign language. (Sign language is distinct from gesturing because it constitutes a fully developed linguistic system.) At the University of Chicago, where she is a professor, she runs one of the most prominent labs investigating gesture production and perception.

“It’s a wonderful window into unspoken thoughts, and unspoken thoughts are often some of the most interesting,” she said, with plenty of gestures of her own.

Many researchers who trained with Goldin-Meadow are now pursuing similar questions outside the University of Chicago. Miriam Novack completed her doctorate under Goldin-Meadow in 2016, and as a postdoc at Northwestern University she examines how gesture develops over the course of a lifetime.

No other species points, Novack explained, not even chimpanzees or apes, according to most reports, unless they are raised by people. Human babies, in contrast, often point before they can speak, and our ability to generate and understand symbolic motions continues to evolve in tandem with language. Gesture is also a valuable tool in the classroom, where it can help young children generalize verbs to new contexts or solve math equations. “But,” she said, “it’s not necessarily clear when kids begin to understand that our hand movements are communicative — that they’re part of the message.”

When children can’t find the words to express themselves, they let their hands do the talking. Novack, who has studied infants as young as 18 months, has seen how the capacity to derive meaning from movement increases with age. Adults do it so naturally, it’s easy to forget that mapping meaning onto hand shape and trajectory is no small feat.

Gestures may be simple actions, but they don’t function in isolation. Research shows that gesture not only augments language, but also aids in its acquisition. In fact, the two may share some of the same neural systems. Acquiring gesture experience over the course of a lifetime may also help us intuit meaning from others’ motions. But whether individual cells or entire neural networks mediate our ability to decipher others’ actions is still up for debate.

Embodied Cognition

Inspired by the work of Noam Chomsky, a towering figure in linguistics and cognitive science, some researchers have long maintained that language and sensorimotor systems are distinct entities — modules that need not work together in gestural communication, even if they are both means of conveying and interpreting symbolic thought. Because researchers don’t yet fully understand how language is organized within the brain or which neural circuits derive meaning from gesture, the question is unsettled. But many scientists, like Anthony Dick, an associate professor at Florida International University, theorize that the two functions rely on some of the same brain structures.

Using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) scans of brain activity, Dick and colleagues have demonstrated that the interpretation of “co-speech” gestures consistently recruits language processing centers. The specific areas involved and the degree of activation vary with age, which suggests that the young brain is still honing its gesture-speech integration skills and refining connections between regions. In Dick’s words, “Gesture essentially is one spire in a broader language system,” one that integrates both semantic processing regions and sensorimotor areas. But to what extent is the perception of language itself a sensorimotor experience, a way of learning about the world that depends on both sensory impressions and movements?

Manuela Macedonia had only recently finished her master’s degree in linguistics when she noticed a recurring pattern among the students to whom she was teaching Italian at Johannes Kepler University Linz (JKU): No matter how many times they repeated the same words, they still couldn’t stammer out a coherent sentence. Printing phrases ad nauseam didn’t do much to help, either. “They became very good listeners,” she said, “but they were not able to speak.”

She was teaching by the book: She had students listen, write, practice and repeat, yet it wasn’t enough. Something was missing.

Today, as a senior scientist at the Institute of Information Engineering at JKU and a researcher at the Max Planck Institute for Human Cognitive and Brain Sciences in Leipzig, Macedonia is getting closer to a hypothesis that sounds a lot like Dick’s: that language is anything but modular.

When children are learning their first language, Macedonia argues, they absorb information with their entire bodies. A word like “onion,” for example, is tightly linked to all five senses: Onions have a bulbous shape, papery skin that rustles, a bitter tang and a tear-inducing odor when sliced. Even abstract concepts like “delight” have multisensory components, such as smiles, laughter and jumping for joy.  To some extent, cognition is “embodied” — the brain’s activity can be modified by the body’s actions and experiences, and vice versa. It’s no wonder, then, that foreign words don’t stick if students are only listening, writing, practicing and repeating, because those verbal experiences are stripped of their sensory associations.

Macedonia has found that learners who reinforce new words by performing semantically related gestures engage their motor regions and improve recall. Don’t simply repeat the word “bridge”: Make an arch with your hands as you recite it. Pick up that suitcase, strum that guitar! Doing so wires the brain for retention, because words are labels for clusters of experiences acquired over a lifetime.

Multisensory learning allows words like “onion” to live in more than one place in the brain — they become distributed across entire networks. If one node decays due to neglect, another active node can restore it because they’re all connected. “Every node knows what the other nodes know,” Macedonia said.

Wired by Experience

The power of gestures to enrich speech may represent only one way in which gesture is integrated with sensory experiences. A growing body of work suggests that, just as language and gesture are intimately entwined, so too are motor production and perception. Specifically, the neural systems underlying gesture observation and understanding are influenced by our past experiences of generating those same movements, according to Elizabeth Wakefield.

Wakefield, another Goldin-Meadow protégé, directs her own lab as an assistant professor at Loyola University Chicago, where she studies the way everyday actions aid learning and influence cognition. But before she could examine these questions in depth, she needed to understand how gesture processing develops. As a graduate student working with the neuroscientist Karin James at Indiana University in 2013, she performed an fMRI study that was one of the first to examine gesture perception in both children and adults.

When the participants watched videos of an actress who gestured as she spoke, their visual and language processing regions weren’t the only areas firing. Brain areas associated with motor experiences were active as well, even though the participants lay still in the scanner. Adults showed more activity in these regions than children did, however, and Wakefield thinks that is because the adults had more experience with making similar motions (children tend to gesture less when they talk).

 

 

 

“We, to my knowledge, were the first people looking at gesture processing across development,” Wakefield said. “That small body of literature on how gesture is processed developmentally has important implications for how we might think about gesture shaping learning.”

Wakefield’s study is not the only evidence that gesture perception and purposeful action both stand on the same neural foundation. Countless experiments have demonstrated a similar motor “mirroring” phenomenon for actions associated with ballet, basketball, playing the guitar, tying knots and even reading music. In each case, when skilled individuals observed their craft being performed by others, their sensorimotor areas were more active than the corresponding areas in participants with less expertise.

(Paradoxically, some experiments observed exactly the opposite effect: Experts’ brains reacted less than those of non-experts when they watched someone with their skills. But researchers theorized that in those cases, experience had made their brains more efficient at processing the motions.)

Lorna Quandt, an assistant professor at Gallaudet University who studies these phenomena among the deaf and hard of hearing, takes a fine-grained approach. She breaks gestures down into their sensorimotor components, using electroencephalography (EEG) to show that memories of making certain actions change how we predict and perceive others’ gestures.

In one study, she and her colleagues recorded the EEG patterns of adult participants while they handled objects of varying colors and weights, and then while they watched a man in a video interact with the same items. Even when the man simply mimed actions around the objects or pointed to them without making contact, the participants’ brains reacted as though they were manipulating the articles themselves. Moreover, their neural activity reflected their own experience: The EEG patterns showed that their recollections of whether the objects were heavy or light predictably influenced their perception of what the man was doing.

“When I see you performing a gesture, I’m not just processing what I’m seeing you doing; I’m processing what I think you’re going to do next,” Quandt said. “And that’s a really powerful lens through which to view action perception.” My brain anticipates your sensorimotor experiences, if only by milliseconds.

Exactly how much motor experience is required? According to Quandt’s experiments, for the straightforward task of becoming more expert at color-weight associations, just one tactile trial is enough, although reading written information is not.

According to Dick, the notion that brain motor areas are active even when humans are immobile but observing others’ movements (a phenomenon known as “observation-execution matching”) is generally well-established. What remains controversial is the degree to which these same regions extract meaning from others’ actions. Still more contentious is what mechanism would serve as the basis for heightened understanding through sensorimotor activation. Is it coordinated activity across multiple brain regions, or could it all boil down to the activity of individual cells?

Mirror Neurons or Networks?

More than a century ago, the psychologist Walter Pillsbury wrote: “There is nothing in the mind that has not been explained in terms of movement.” This concept has its modern incarnation in the mirror neuron theory, which posits that the ability to glean meaning from gesture and speech can be explained by the activation of single cells in key brain regions. It’s becoming increasingly clear, however, that the available evidence regarding the role of mirror neurons in everyday behaviors may have been oversold and overinterpreted.

The mirror neuron theory got its start in the 1990s, when a group of researchers studying monkeys found that specific neurons in the inferior premotor cortex responded when the animals made certain goal-directed movements like grasping. The scientists were surprised to note that the same cells also fired when the monkeys passively observed an experimenter making similar motions. It seemed like a clear case of observation-execution matching but at the single-cell level.

The researchers came up with a few possible explanations: Perhaps these “mirror neurons” were simply communicating information about the action to help the monkey select an appropriate motor response. For instance, if I thrust my hand toward you to initiate a handshake, your natural reaction is probably to mirror me and do the same.

 

The actions of others are perceived through the lens of the self.

 

Alternatively, these single cells could form the basis for “action understanding,” the way we interpret meaning in someone else’s movements. That possibility might allow monkeys to match their own actions to what they observed with relatively little mental computation. This idea ultimately usurped the other because it was such a beautifully simple way to explain how we intuit meaning from others’ movements.

As the years passed, evidence poured in for a similar mechanism in humans, and mirror neurons became implicated in a long list of phenomena, including empathy, imitation, altruism and autism spectrum disorder, among others. And after reports of mirroring activity in related brain regions during gesture observation and speech perception, mirror neurons became associated with language and gesture, too.

Gregory Hickok, a professor of cognitive and language sciences at the University of California, Irvine, and a staunch mirror neuron critic, maintains that, decades ago, the founders of mirror neuron theory threw their weight behind the wrong explanation. In his view, mirror neurons deserve to be thoroughly investigated, but the pinpoint focus on their roles in speech and action understanding has hindered research progress. Observation-execution matching is more likely to be involved in motor planning than in understanding, he argues.

Even those who continue to champion the theory of action understanding have begun to pump the brakes, according to Valeria Gazzola, who leads the Social Brain Laboratory at the Netherlands Institute for Neuroscience and is an associate professor at the University of Amsterdam. Although she is an advocate of the mirror neuron theory, Gazzola acknowledged that there’s no consensus about what it actually means to “understand” an action. “There is still some variability and misunderstanding,” she said. While mirror neurons serve as an important component of cognition, “whether they explain the whole story, I would say that’s probably not true.”

 

It’s a wonderful window into unspoken thoughts, and unspoken thoughts are often some of the most interesting.

 

Initially, most evidence for mirroring in humans was derived from studies that probed the activity of millions of neurons simultaneously, using techniques such as fMRI, EEG, magnetoencephalography and transcranial magnetic stimulation. Researchers have since begun to experiment with techniques like fMRI adaptation, which they can use to analyze subpopulations of cells in specific cortical regions. But they only rarely have the opportunity to take direct measurements from individual cells in the human brain, which would provide the most direct proof of mirror neuron activity.

“I have no doubt that mirror neurons exist,” Hickok said, “but all of those brain imaging and brain activation studies are correlational. They do not tell you anything about causation.”

Moreover, people who cannot move or speak because of motor disabilities like severe forms of cerebral palsy can in most cases still perceive speech and gestures. They don’t need fully functioning motor systems (and mirror neurons) to perform tasks that require action understanding as it’s loosely defined. Even in monkeys, Hickok said, there is no evidence that damage to mirror neurons produces deficits in action observation.

Because claims about individual cells remain so difficult to corroborate empirically, most investigators today choose their words carefully. Monkeys may have “mirror neurons,” but humans have “mirroring systems,” “neural mirroring” or an “action-observation network.” (According to Hickok, even the monkey research has shifted more toward a focus on mirroring effects in networks and systems.)

Quandt, who considers herself a mirror neuron centrist, makes no claims about how different experiences change the function of individual cells based on her EEG experiments. That said, she is “completely convinced” that parts of the human sensorimotor system are involved in parsing and processing other people’s gestures. “I am 100 percent sure that’s true,” she said. “It would take a lot to convince me otherwise.”

Researchers may not be able to pinpoint the exact cells that help us to communicate and learn with our bodies, but the overlap between multisensory systems is undeniable. Gesture allows us to express ourselves, and it also shapes the way we understand and interpret others. To quote one of Quandt’s papers: “The actions of others are perceived through the lens of the self.”

So, the next time someone gives you the one-finger salute, take a moment to appreciate what it takes to receive that message loud and clear. If nothing else, it might lessen the sting a bit.

 

 

Original article here


11 Oct 2024
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Light: Eating The Wild Electron

Light is the basic component from which all life originates, evolves, and is energized. Light and health are inseparable. Because we have managed to disconnect ourselves from the sources of light with our fluorescent lights, indoor lifestyles, glasses, contact lenses, sunglasses, tanning lotions, flesh foods, processed foods and even cooked vegetarian diets, many of us suffer from chronic “mal-illumination.”

Like malnutrition, mal-illumination deprives us of a level of nutrients and rhythmic stimulation that is essential for living as fully healthy humans.

Noble Prize Laureate Dr. Szent-Gyorgi describes the essential life process as a little electrical current sent to us by the sunshine. Without light there is no health. This statement is a key in understanding the importance of vegetarian live foods and of other ways of bringing light into our organism. We are human photocells whose ultimate biological nutrient is sunlight.

Dr. Szent-Giorgi, when referring to the current of sunshine sent from the sun, is referring to highly charged single electrons that are involved in transferring their energy to our own submolecular patterns without changing our molecular structure. The quantum physics model begins to validate our more intuitive model of recognizing vegetarian food as condensed sunlight which then is transferred to our human organism when we eat it. When the energy of the earth’s vegetation is transferred to us indirectly through flesh food, much of the bio-electric resonant energy patterns are destroyed. The sunlight energy is also lost if the bio-electric energy patterns of vegetarian foods are disrupted by cooking or processing.

Our cellular metabolism acts as a battery where our food brings the photon energy of sunlight into our bodies so it can be utilized as energy. The positive pole of the battery is energetically fed by oxygen. The negative pole is fed by the high electron photon energy collected from the sun and stored in our vegetarian live food. This high electron food releases its electron energy across the “cytochrome oxidase” system. The cytochrome oxidase system acts as a step down transformer to turn the electron energy into ATP, the basic energy storage molecule of biological systems.

The electrons are essentially drawn across the cytochrome oxidase system by the oxygen at the positive pole of the intracellular battery. The more oxygen in the system, the stronger the pull. Breathing exercises, eating high-oxygen foods, and living in atmospherically clean, high-oxygen environments increases our overall oxygen content. The cytochrome oxidase system exists in every cell and requires electron energy to function. This electron energy comes from plant foods as well as what we directly absorb. When the food is cooked, the basic harmonic resonance pattern of the living electron energy of the live food is at least partially destroyed. Once understanding this scientific evidence, the logical step is to eat high-electron foods such as fruits, vegetables, raw nuts and seeds, and sprouted or soaked grains. People who eat refined, cooked, highly processed foods diminish the amount of solar electrons energizing the system.

Perhaps the two highest solar electron-rich foods and foods which have the capacity to absorb solar electrons are spirulina and flaxseed in various forms, including flaxseed oil. Because spirulina grows at high altitudes in high-temperature environments, it has increased beta-carotene, other carotenoids, enzyme systems, and other biological components to better absorb the intensified solar and cosmic radiations. As a nondairy vegetarian, I find that bee pollen and spirulina are perfect high-protein concentrated foods to combine with flaxseed oil.

Our health and consciousness depends on our ability to attract, store, and conduct electron energy through eating foods with a high solar electron content. This is essential for the energizing and regulation of all life forces. The greater our store of light energy, the more energy is available for healing and the maintenance of optimal health. Light is our umbilical link to the universe.

A strong solar resonance field promotes the evolution of humanity to reach our full potential as human “sun beings.” Light supports evolution and a lack of photons in our bodies hinders it. As far back as the turn of the century, Rudolph Steiner, the founder of the Waldorf schools, anthroposophical medicine, and biodynamic gardening taught that the release of the outer light into our systems stimulates the release of an equal amount of inner light within ourselves. The more we increase our ability to absorb and assimilate light, the more conscious we become. This is the subtle secret of “conscious eating.”

 

 

Original article here


06 Oct 2024
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I’m not just faster, but taller’: how I learned to walk properly – and changed my pace, posture and perspective

 

 

In all the time I spent with Joanna Hall, she barely stopped walking. I would see her coming towards me in Kensington Gardens, London, gliding past the other strollers as if she alone were on a moving walkway. When she reached me, I would fall into step and off we would walk, for an hour. At the end, Hall would stride into the distance and keep walking, for all I knew, until we met the following week.

Hall’s WalkActive system, a comprehensive fitness programme based around walking, aims to improve posture, increase speed, reduce stress on joints and deliver fitness, turning a stroll into a workout and changing the way you walk for ever. She says she can teach it to me, and we have set aside four weeks for my education.

It is easy to be sceptical when someone claims you can reap huge health benefits simply by learning to walk better. You think: I’m already good at walking. And sometimes, I walk a long way.

But according to Hall, a fitness expert who enjoyed a three-year stint on ITV’s This Morning, almost nobody is good at walking: not you, not me and not all the other people in the park, who provide endless lessons in poor technique. I notice they are still managing to get where they are going. Are we not in danger of overthinking something people do without thinking?

Hall tells me: “If you ask someone, ‘When you go for a walk, do you enjoy it?’, they will say, ‘Yes’, but if you ask, ‘Do you ever experience discomfort in your lower back?’, quite a few people will say, ‘Yeah, I do get discomfort in my back, or I feel it when I get out of bed, or I’m tight in my achilles or stiff in my shoulder.’ And those are all indicators that an individual is walking sub-optimally.”

What are we doing wrong? Most of us, she says, tend to walk by stepping into the space in front of us. “I want you to think about walking out of the space behind you.”

If that sounds a bit abstract to you – as it did to me, at first – think about it this way: good walking is an act of propulsion, of pushing yourself forward off your back foot. Bad walking – my kind of walking – is overly dependent on traction: pulling yourself along with your front foot. This shortens your stride, relies too much on your hip flexors and puts unnecessary stress on your knees.

The struggle to get me to absorb this basic concept takes up most of our first hour together. My opening question about optimal walking was: “Will I look mad?” I imagined great loping strides and pumping arms.

“I promise you, you won’t look mad,” Hall said. But when you stroll haltingly through a public park while someone instructs you on heel placement, you do attract a certain amount of attention. People think: poor man, he’s having to learn to walk all over again.

They are not wrong. It takes a tremendous amount of concentration to do something so basic, and so ingrained, in a different way. It begins with the feet: I am trying to maintain a flexible, open ankle, to leave my back foot on the ground for longer, and to peel it away, heel first, as if it were stuck in place with Velcro.

“Feel the peel,” says Hall. “Feel. The. Peel.”

Second come the hips: I need to increase the distance between my pelvis and my ribs, standing tall and creating more flexibility through my torso. Then my neck: there needs to be more distance between my collarbone and my earlobes. I need to think about maintaining all of these things at the same time.

 

 

Hall acknowledges that, for beginners, there will be what she calls “Buckaroo! moments” – named after the children’s game featuring a put-upon, spring-loaded mule – when too much information causes a system overload. This happens to me when, while I’m busy monitoring my feet, my stride, my hips and my neck, Hall suggests that the pendular arc of my arms could do with a bit more backswing.

“What?” I ask. My rhythm collapses. My shoulders slump. My ribs sink. My right heel scuffs the pavement. I can feel, for the first time, just how not good my normal walking is. How did I get like this?

Hominids have been walking on two legs for more than 4m years. It is more energy efficient than walking on all fours, and it keeps your hands free for other tasks, but this advance came with its own problems. Studies suggest that some common human back problems may stem from spinal characteristics inherited from our knuckle-walking ancestors.

Your walk can also be affected by the way you sit, especially when you sit a lot: favouring one hip over another at your desk, or in your car. “Small things we’re doing consistently create that default neuromuscular pattern, which is just a little bit out of sync,” says Hall. “And it may not translate into anything, but over a period of time it can manifest itself as discomfort.”

Also, she tells me, my shoes are wrong.

Between our meetings, I work my way through Hall’s WalkActive app, a mix of instructional videos, audio coaching sessions and timed walks set to music of varying speeds. At this stage, I’m still perfecting my technique. “Imagine that maybe you have a Post-it note on the sole of your foot,” Hall says in my headphones as I turn the corner at the end of my road. “And you want to show the message on the Post-it note to the person behind you.” Feel the peel, I think. Read my heel.

Hall conceived the WalkActive system more than a decade ago, during the double whammy of pregnancy and appendicitis. “As soon as I was pregnant, even prior to having the appendicitis challenge, I never felt I wanted to do high-impact activity,” she says. “So walking was a natural thing for me to focus on.”

She later applied the techniques to her clients, but the regime she developed was originally for herself. She says: “It came from a personal space of wanting to rehab myself, to try to walk myself through rehab and walk myself through a fit pregnancy.”

Hall’s programme may be low-impact, but it is not low energy. By the end of our second session together, I am exhausted, because of the concentration required and the distance we have covered. A study that Hall commissioned showed that participants who completed a month of WalkActive training increased their walking speed by 24%. This alone amounts to a pretty big lifestyle adjustment – and you suddenly find that everyone is in your way. I’m not just faster, but taller, and my arms swing with a natural, easy rhythm, exuding a confidence wholly at odds with the rest of my personality. It feels, frankly, amazing.

One Friday morning, just before 7am, I join Hall’s twice-weekly WhatsApp group, along with several dozen other people also dialing in from around the country. I can hear birdsong in my earbuds as I walk out through my front door, while Hall guides us all through 30 minutes of brisk, optimal walking in real time.

“Leave that back foot on the floor,” she says, “so it’s a really sticky foot. Feel the peel.” I can feel it, I think, although I’m actually stuck at a level crossing.

By our fourth and final meeting I have the right shoes, as recommended by Hall. They are ugly, but they have a flexible sole and enough width to allow the toes to spread when the foot is on the ground. Today, we are concentrating not on speed but on varying our pace, slowing it down and shortening the stride, without compromising technique. This is because, during our third meeting, I mentioned that on ordinary walks I found myself outpacing the people I was with.

“I like to say the technique has a dimmer switch,” Hall tells me as we glide past the Albert Memorial. “You can turn it up or down, but it’s always on.” She has mistaken my boast for a complaint. I didn’t mean that I feel bad for leaving my friends behind. I meant that I am done with those people.

Perhaps the most significant claim Hall makes is that, in terms of fitness, walking can be enough. It can complement other forms of exercise, such as yoga and Pilates, but if you don’t do anything else, improving your walk can still confer major health benefits.

“I’m not anti-running, I’m not anti-gyms, I think they all have a role to play,” she says. “But I also think, sometimes, if we just think about the simplest thing that we could all do, and just get people to do it better, even if someone doesn’t necessarily feel as if they want to walk for longer, even if they just looked at changing their walking technique and applied it to their commute, that can be powerful.”

This is the real question: whether, after four weeks of training and new £70 shoes, I will continue to walk like this forever. But after I leave Hall in the park, I cross the street with my head high, feeling the peel with every step, all the way to my train, in case she is behind me, watching.

 

 

Original article here


04 Oct 2024
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5 Easy Vagus Nerve Exercises for Reducing Stress

 

If ‘more sleep’ or ‘less stress’ are goals for you, then you’ll probably have tried to introduce a few changes to your routine. You’ve hung blackout curtains, tried to finish dinner by 8pm and stopped scrolling on TikTok in the evenings. And yet, here you are, still feeling tired. Maybe that’s because you’re missing one crucial stress-busting element: the vagus nerve.

“The vagus nerve is responsible for a huge number of signals from the digestive system and organs to the brain and vice versa,” says Dr Deepak Ravindran, author of The Pain-Free Mindset. “It’s an important part of the parasympathetic system, the so-called ‘rest and digest’ part of the nervous system.

“While the sympathetic system is responsible for the ‘fight and flight’ aspect, we need the parasympathetic system in full readiness to support us when needed.”

You can engage this system through vagus nerve stimulation – non-interventional exercises that help improve the tone of the nerve. Dr Ravindran explains: “Vagal tone is an internal biological process that represents the activity of the nerve. Increasing your vagal tone activates the parasympathetic nervous system. Therefore, having a higher baseline vagal tone can allow the body to relax faster after stress.”

So, tone up your vagus nerve and you’ll be mentally and physically fitter to deal with stressful situations. The good news is that there’s a wealth of quick and easy DIY ways to achieve this – from yoga to massage and singing to cold exposure. Here’s what the experts recommend.

Hum, sing and vibrate for more calm

Singing, humming, chanting and even gargling can improve vagal tone because the vagus nerve controls your vocal cords and the muscles at the back of your throat, explains Dr Ravindran. A brain imaging study even found that the humming involved in the meditation chant ‘om’ reduced activity in areas of the brain associated with depression.

That might mean humming your favourite tunes or taking time out to head to a yin yoga class that usually finishes with a spot of class chanting. Yoga instructor Scarlett Woodford tells Strong Women: “When you have a whole room of people chanting it can feel incredibly vibrational and healing.

“However, if this feels a bit overwhelming, the simple chant of ‘om’ on your own is perfect. Try to make each ‘om’ last as long as your natural exhale, with equal parts on both the ‘O’ with an open mouth and ‘M’ with a closed mouth.”

Alternatively, get your cat to do the heavy lifting by sitting on your chest. Not only is a purring cat an immediate comforter, but the furry little things have been proven to stimulate the vagus nerve. Petting your cat for just 10 minutes has been scientifically proven to reduce levels of the stress hormone cortisol, so we all win (well, the cat lovers do).

Give restorative yoga a go

Dr Ravindran recommends exercise, particularly yoga, for improving vagal tone. Yogi and founder of The Yoga Class Laura Dodd finds restorative yoga postures such as supported fish pose or legs up the wall are her go-to moves after a stressful day.

“They truly help me switch off my mind and find a deep state of relaxation,” she says. “As well as stimulating the vagus nerve, the heart-opening nature of these poses helps promote deeper, more effective breathing and relief for upper back and neck tension.”

How to do a supported fish pose (matsyasana)

  • Unlike full fish pose, this gentle backbend uses props to promote relaxation. You may wish to use a block under the head, one positioned between the shoulder blades or just a bolster down the length of the spine.
  • Lie down on your props with your legs straight and arms relaxed by your sides.
  • Feel an opening in the upper chest area and come to a slow, deep belly breath for at least five minutes.

Try applying acupressure to your ear

From massage to hugs, touch is believed to help stimulate the vagus nerve. Manipulating specific acupressure points, however, is thought to have the most profound effect.

“I often suggest massage points to my patients to help them stimulate the vagus nerve and restore calm in their daily lives,” says acupuncturist Saffron Pretty. “My favourites include the ear point ‘shen men’ found in the upper third of the ear just within the shaded part.

“Ideally, this area is best stimulated with firm pressure and an even circular motion using a finger or rounded object while seated or lying down. You can do this several times a day or when going off to sleep at night with attention on the breath to aid relaxation.”

Give breathwork a go

It’s no surprise that slow, deep breathing helps us relax, but a study by the National Yang-Ming University in Taiwan specifically found that slow-paced breathing enhances vagal activity and improves sleep quality in insomniacs.

If you find it hard to maintain steady, controlled breathing, another smart gadget is available. The Moonbird (£159) sits comfortably in your hand and guides your breathing. Once activated, the Moonbird comes to life slowly expanding and shrinking like a little lung (in a cute way – not a macabre one) encouraging you to breathe in and out in time with the movement.

When used with the app, you can breathe to a soundtrack of relaxing sounds while it gives real-time feedback on your body’s response. A plus point is that you can use it without the app so it’s perfect for holding in bed as you drift off to sleep but want to maintain a phone-free zone.

Ice your vagus nerve with cold water

“Exposure to cold activates the vagus nerve and lowers the ‘fight or flight’ response,” says Dr Ravindran. “ Cold water swimming is one option but you can simply turn your taps to cold at the end of your morning shower for 30-60 seconds or splash your face in ice cold water two or three times a day.”

Over on that hotbed of wellness hacks TikTok, the #VagusNervehashtag has chalked up over 175 million views. Ever since TikToker Frankie Simmons shared her experience of achieving an instant solution to insomnia after ‘freezing’ her vagus nerve, the ‘vagus nerve icing’ trend has had us raiding the freezer for the key to calm.

How to ice your vagus nerve:

  • Wrap an ice pack or bag of frozen peas in a towel.
  • Lie down and place the cold bundle in the middle of your chest.
  • Relax in this position for 15 minutes or as long as needed. Blissful sleep awaits…

 

 

Original article here


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