Authenticity and Movement
The Problem of Copy–Paste Movement
Lately we’ve been reflecting with our teacher, Ido Portal, on the problems of our movement culture - so much copying and pasting things from outside, not really letting them emerge from a development of ourselves.
There is a lack of authenticity in the movement presented. Movements are copied (from tutorials, etc), and pasted without the internal development that would make them truly one’s own.
And the finger points back at us: we’re all guilty of this.
Take a simple acrobatic movement like the macaco or a cartwheel. Countless tutorials of these exist.
But who was the first person to discover a macaco? That person discovered this movement INSIDE their body. They didn’t copy a video. They had a practice that created the conditions necessary for the movement to arise.
The movement was autochthonous to them.
The Autochthones
The ancient Greeks had the idea of “Autochthones”: beings that live where they come from. They arise from the land itself.
We use the word “indigenous” to refer to who is first to arrive to a place, but autochthones are something else: a downstream differentiation of that place itself, a manifestation of it, ARE it, in a way.
This is relevant to the question of authenticity in movement.
Create the Conditions
Instead of copying and pasting the macaco, we can invest ourselves in developing the conditions that give rise to it: familiarity in certain positions, mobility, elasticity, other inversions, connections through the arch of the body.
The result is something completely different.
You might not see a difference when viewing it “straight on” - but do the movement with a slight twist, and the deficits of the “copy-paste” method will be revealed.
That’s not to say tutorials are the problem. You can copy something, and use it as a scaffold for growing inside of it. That’s what we’re in the business of offering with teaching movement classes.
Nurture the seed
Imagine there is a seed inside you, some essence.
When you see something impressive outside of you, the temptation is to copy that thing - at the expense of the seed.
Because this seed inside of you is not capable of this impressive feat, you replace it with a copy of what you see from the outside. Now, you can “do that trick”, but it’s not connected to anything else inside of you.
Now, imagine instead of replacing that seed, you start to nurture it. You use what is outside to indicate possibilities, as a roadmap, but you don’t replace the essential quality. You nurture that seed until IT is ready to perform the trick.
That is the autochthonous movement, bringing OURSELVES to the practice.
Connect the Pieces
It’s easy to misunderstand what movement practice is about.
It’s not just about learning novel exercises or collecting more tricks — “new,” but still just more of the same.
What makes a movement practice different is how the pieces connect. Avoiding the common trap of randomly mish-mashing things hoping that they come together to make something meaningful.
One overlooked ingredient for finding meaningful connections in movement is in-depth discussion — not talking for talking’s sake, but clarifying the links between seemingly disparate domains of movement.
These discussions, tied directly to physical experience, broaden your map of the movement landscape.
This creates a symbiotic loop:
the physical work becomes more meaningful,
and the ideas become embodied and pragmatic.
Combining in-depth discussion with hard work is octane for development, yielding fresh insight and integration.
On Evolution
Growth and evolution are not the same.
Growth is incremental - an increase of what already exists.
Evolution is something else - a reconfiguration that opens up new possibilities.
And evolution doesn’t come from repeating what we already know.
It comes from crossing thresholds — those moments where resistance peaks.
In my last post, I wrote about this resistance - a force that appears the moment we decide to move. I’ve been thinking about how this plays out every time I study with my teacher, Ido Portal.
In our day to day practice, we meet this resistance constantly.
Through it, we improve our strength, we build our coordination, we acquire new skills.
But rarely do we venture deep enough into the resistance to tug on deeper layers. The resistance stays simmering.
In an event with Ido, that resistance hits a critical mass.
By sustaining efforts in that unique context, something deeper begins to transform.
Evolution of Movement Potential
We’re not talking about anything esoteric, woo-woo or vague here.
We’re talking about our movement — our physicality, our bodies.
Which includes far more than how many chin-ups you can do or how long you can hold a handstand.
Because we’re not interested in maintenance, in a linear predictable trajectory of growth — adding weight to our lifts, collecting new tricks — but in pursuing the evolution of our movement potential.
Take strength, for example.
At first, we thought of it as the ability to lift weight.
Then it expanded — gymnastic strength, then organic strength, connectivity, etc.
Each step was a small evolution: first you become open to new possibilities — new ways to feel weak. And in that discovery, evolution begins again, allowing growth to unfold anew.
As we work through these layers, the depth and surface area of our real strength expand.
Ingredients for a Paradigm Shift
But this process requires letting go of prior models — or at least to our religious devotion to them.
That release generates resistance at many layers — physical, emotional, conceptual.
This is what paradigm shift is about.
And every event with Ido is a paradigm shift.
So treat this as a reminder for all of us, to consider what (and which version of ourselves) exists on the far side of resistance.
On Resistance
Movement practice gives us a container to work with the idea of resistance
Movement and practice - both involve an experience of resistance.
What is Resistance?
Resistance is the force that arises the moment intention does - the intention to move, or to engage in practice.
It doesn’t show up until the intention arises, but as sure as pushing on a wall makes it push back, this resistance appears.
The moment you desired, the universe began pushing back.
It’s not an evil force. It’s just a property of the universe; by other names we might call it inertia, or homeostasis.
Work Through Resistance.
Movement practice gives us a container to work with this abstract idea - to develop the taste to recognize these moments and the capacity to work through them.
Because to grow and evolve, we MUST work through them. There’s no other vector of meaningful development.
When you want to skip a session, the mind will construct so many rationalizations.
These are the voice of resistance, and the trouble is it often speaks in “truth”.
Yes, you are sore.
Yes, you didn’t sleep well.
Yes, the dishes need washing and there is an unread book on the shelf and a full inbox.
All true.
But the mind has a skill for turning truths into self-deception, the most destructive lie.
Because you can modify your practice session.
Because the dishes and books and emails will wait.
Because practicing tired is just as powerful, or moreso.
The Gift of Resistance
Let’s leave the demonizing to the storybooks: in truth, resistance is a gift.
If there was no property of inertia in the universe, lifting weight couldn’t make your muscles stronger.
If there was no property of friction, taking a step wouldn’t move you forward.
And without this resistance, showing up for your session day after day couldn’t transform you.
Stages Towards Mastery
This representation of the stages towards “mastery” reveals two useful insights for us. (There’s a breakdown of the stages below)
A. The feeling of moving from 1 to 2 feels bad, but is a step in the right direction. We often don’t like to slow down, or make other adjustments, that make things feel harder. They feel harder because they take us from unconscious incompetence, to conscious incompetence. That’s a step UP the ladder of evolution, but it “feels” like a step DOWN that ladder.
B. The beginning and the end FEEL the same: “unconscious”: there is a feeling of executing without thinking. Since they feel the same, how shall I know if I am in stage 1 or 4? Quite simply: if I didn’t go through stages 2 and 3, I’m still in stage 1!
*A quick breakdown of the stages, if it isn’t clear:
Level 1 (unconscious incompetence): cannot do it well, but I don’t know it.
Level 2 (conscious incompetence): cannot do it well, and I know it.
Level 3 (conscious competence): I CAN do it well, but only when I’m paying close attention
Level 4 (unconscious incompetence): I got nowhere left to go.