The Language of Movement
We have a brain for one reason and one reason only, and that’s to produce adaptable and complex movements.
Daniel Wolpert
When I was first learning about freestyle footbag in the late 90s, the language of the sport seemed completely bizarre and foreign to me. Torque? Symposium? Paradox? These words, which already carry dictionary definitions, were being used for different purposes; as references for expressions of movement. But without context for what they represent, they were gibberish; meaningless.
I’m sure for most, a symposium would mean a conference of like-minded individuals, and not what it means in footbag – a modifier to a dexterity component which would require the leg performing the dexterity to act as the support leg both preceding and following the dexterity.
This idea of context applies to all of the language we use to reference expressions of movement across all training, games, and sports. Deadlift. Slapshot. Free Throw. Triple Jump. Butterfly.
Picture for a moment that one does not know what “extension” means in the context of movement. If someone then asks them to extend their shoulder, the word itself, “extend”, does not inform them as to how to perform the shoulder extension. However, once they are shown how to perform the extension, the word begins to carry meaning.
It is the movement that informs the language; the language does not inform the movement.
Further, if we consider the origins of language to be vocal, then language itself is an expression of movement.
Dr. Erich Jarvis speaks to this in a talk with Andrew Huberman when discussing the discovery that animals who are capable of dance also have the capacity to sing. “We discovered that vocal learning brain pathways are embedded within circuits that control learning how to move.”
Movement is the medium through which everything we do takes place. Let’s think back to the shoulder extension example from above. It was movement itself that explained the meaning of the word to our brain and nervous system.
If it is movement that provides the explanation, how is the message being delivered? It is not through words, but through the forces applied to, and by, our tissues.
“Force is the language of cells, and movement is what you say.” – Dr. Andreo Spina
The different ways in which forces are applied to our tissues form the vocabulary of the language of movement. Picture each possible combination of forces as its own “definition” in the movement dictionary. Consider that movement has variability at the individual motor unit level. A single “muscle” such as the tibialis anterior could be home to upwards of 445 motor units alone.
Using this example, let’s say that we look at all possible motor unit combinations that would use 440 of those tibialis anterior motor units ( so only 5 motor units are not activated ). This results in over 142 billion potential combinations, and that doesn’t even take the order of motor unit activation into account. If a movement uses 439 motor units, the potential combinations increases to over 10 trillion possibilities, and it only goes up from there. This is an extremely narrow view of the possibilities for movement just along the front of your shin bone.
It would then appear that the combinations of motor unit firing patterns across all tissues is virtually limitless. The movement “dictionary” would require warehouse storage. There is a level of depth to the language of movement that no written or spoken language can properly translate.
To attempt to translate movement into a vocal concept requires immense simplification. These words must then be interpreted by the one hearing it, and their interpretation could be completely different from the speaker based on their own experience. “Dribbling” could apply to basketball as much as it could to a baby’s chin. Both interpretations do involve movement! Even within the interpretation of basketball, “dribbling” is a simplification of a broad range of movement options.
It is the translation of the movement into the written or spoken word that both allows for incredibly complex ideas to be communicated rapidly ( “Squat.” ), and for those ideas to also be widely misinterpreted ( “Squat.” ).
The words used to describe movement are simplifications that represent large buckets of movement possibilities, and there is room to explore within these buckets when using these words to guide one’s path.
Language describes movement, but movement is the original language.
Aggregate Agility is founded on the belief that who we become is forged by the aggregate of our experiences. The articles I post here are to pay homage to the educators and knowledge seekers that have provided valuable insight on my journey ( n = 1 ).
Research your own experience. Absorb what is useful, reject what is useless, add what is essentially your own.
Bruce Lee