Preface to the first edition

I stand in absolute awe of the miracle of life. My wonder and curiosity have only increased during the more than three decades of immersion in the study of human movement. Whether our ever-evolving body was fashioned by an all-knowing if mischievous Creator, or by a purely selfish gene struggling blindly up Mount Improbable,^1-3 the ingenious variety and flexibility shown in somatic design and development leaves the observer shaking his head with a rueful grin of astonishment.

One looks in vain inside the fertilized ovum for the trillion-cell fetus that it will become. Even the most cursory examination of the complexities of embryology leaves us amazed that it works as often as it does to produce a healthy infant. Hold a helpless, squalling baby, and it seems almost unbelievable that so many escape all the possible debilitating pitfalls on the road to a healthy and productive adulthood.

Despite its biological success, the human experiment as a whole is showing some signs of strain. When I read the news, I confess to having feelings of ambivalence as to whether humankind can or even should continue on this planet, given our cumulative effect on its surface flora and fauna and our treatment of each other. When I hold that baby, however, my commitment to human potential is once again confirmed.

This book (and the seminars and training courses from which it developed) is devoted to the slim chance that we as a species can move beyond our current dedication to collective greed – and the technocracy and alienation that proceed from it – into a more cooperative and humane relationship with ourselves, each other and our environs. One hopes the development of a ‘holistic’ view of anatomy such as the one outlined herein will be useful to the manual and movement therapists in relieving pain and resolving difficulties in the clients who seek their help. The deeper premise underlying the book, however, is that a more thorough and sensitive contact with our ‘felt sense’ – that is, our kinesthetic, proprioceptive, spatial sense of orientation and movement – is a vitally important front on which to fight the battle for a more human use of human beings, and a better integration with the world around us. The progressive deadening of this ‘felt sense’ in our children, whether through simple ignorance or by deliberate schooling, lends itself to a collective dissociation, which leads in turn to environmental and social decline. We have long been familiar with mental intelligence (IQ) and more recently have recognized emotional intelligence (EQ). Only by re-contacting the full reach and educational potential of our kinesthetic intelligence (KQ) will we have any hope of finding a balanced relationship with the larger systems of the world around us, to fulfill what Thomas Berry called ‘the Dream of the Earth’.^4,5

The traditional mechanistic view of anatomy, as useful as it has been, has objectified rather than humanized our relationship to our insides. It is hoped that the relational view ventured in this book will go some little way toward connecting Descartes’ view of the body as a ‘soft machine’ with the living experience of being in a body which grows, learns, matures and ultimately dies. Although the Anatomy Trains ideas form only one small detail of a larger picture of human development through movement, an appreciation of the fascial web and balance in the myofascial meridians can definitely contribute to our inner sense of ourselves as integrated beings. This, coupled with other concepts to be presented in future works, leads toward a physical education more appropriate to the needs of the 21st century.^6-9

As such, Anatomy Trains is a work of art in a scientific metaphor. This book leaps ahead of the science to propose a point of view, one that is still being literally fleshed out and refined. I have frequently been taken to task by my wife, my students, and my colleagues for stating my hypotheses baldly, with few of the qualifying adjectives which, though necessary to scientific accuracy, dampen the visceral force of an argument. As Evelyn Waugh wrote: ‘Humility is not a virtue propitious to the artist. It is often pride, emulation, avarice, malice – all the odious qualities – which drive a man to complete, elaborate, refine, destroy, and renew his work until he has made something that gratifies his pride and envy and greed. And in so doing he enriches the world more than the generous and the good. That is the paradox of artistic achievement.’¹⁰

Being neither a scholar nor a researcher, I can only hope that this work of ‘artifice’ is useful in providing some new ideas for the good people who are.

Finally, I hope that I have honored Vesalius and all the other explorers before me by getting the anatomy about right.

Maine 2001

Thomas W. Myers