Every movement has a greater significance than one can
imagine. The ancient people, recognizing this fact, knew
the psychology of movement, and it is a great pity that
the science of movement and of its psychological effect
seems to be so little known today. Movement is life. Its
absence is like death. All that gives proof of life in whatever
form is movement. All that shows the sign of death in whatever
form is the absence of movement.
Movements can be considered from different points of
view, and there are several kinds of movements. There is
a natural spontaneous movement, which is mostly seen by
noticing the movements of an innocent child who has not
learned them from anywhere, who is not influenced by having
seen someone else making these movements, but just makes
them naturally, expressing its feelings which words can
never express. When feelings of astonishment, of fear, of
joy, of fancy, of affection, or of appreciation are expressed
naturally, they reveal much more than words can ever say.
Then there are the movements which can be regarded as
a language of people belonging to a certain community, a
certain family, a certain country, or a certain race. The
members of that particular community alone know that language;
others are quite ignorant of it. These movements which have
become expressions of language are not understood by the
people of another country, but they are not the natural
and spontaneous movements mentioned above which are like
a language for all. For instance, the Eastern way of beckoning
a person is with all one's fingers. It suggests, 'I call
you from my whole heart,' and when a person calls somebody
with only one finger it is not considered right. In Italy
and other Mediterranean countries there is the same way
of beckoning someone. In all the countries of the East the
movements may differ, and there may also be some movements
which are like those of southern Europeans; there are psychological
reasons why these movements should be alike.
There are also individual movements, the movements an
individual makes, showing thereby his particular state of
health and his particular mental condition; for one can
read a person's condition by the movements he makes. And
if one has insight into movements one can perceive by the
movements of a person whether his eyes and ears are in good
order, or whether he has anything wrong with any part of
his body. His movements will convey it. Movements also show
the characteristics of a person, his attitude, his point
of view, his outlook on life. The fineness or crudeness
of a person's character can be traced in his movements,
and deep characteristics such as pride and humility can
also be discovered from a person's natural movements. Is
it right to make movements? All is right, movements or no
movements, because everything has its uses, everything has
its meaning. It is the right use of all things that is right,
and wrong use of everything that is wrong.
No doubt there is also a meaning in controlling the movements.
If a person is allowed to go on with his movements, we do
not know where it will end, but at the same time by repressing
movements one can turn into a rock; and so there are many
people who, with beautiful feelings and fine thoughts, turn
into a rock because they control their movements too much.
Every day a greater stiffness comes over them, and this
works against their original character. They may not be
stiff by nature, they may have fine thoughts and deep feeling,
but they become stiff because they are taught to control
their movements too much, even to the extent of turning
into a stone. One sees this happen frequently.
By repressing a movement a person may have buried a thought
or a feeling inside him, but if it is an undesirable thought
or feeling it is just as well that by these movements it
should be thrown out instead of being kept inside. It is
better that it is extirpated than buried in the heart. No
doubt there is another way of looking at it, and that is
from the point of view of self-control; but this belongs
to asceticism, which is another subject altogether.
Then there are the more refined movements which belong
to art. This art, the art of movements, can be divided into
three different classes. To the first belong the grace and
fineness of movements executed with skill and subtlety,
the harmony that they express and the music that they have
of their own. The next is the movements which convey the
meaning of what one says more fully. When the art of speech
and of singing is separated from the art of movement, this
certainly takes away a great beauty and charm, for speech,
reciting, and singing go together with movements. And the
third class of movements is to illustrate the feeling that
is in music, to express or to interpret music in the form
of movements.
But the most essential aspect of movement is that movement
does not only suggest the meaning for which it is intended,
but that a movement, according to its nature and character,
can make an impression on the person who sees it or on the
one who makes it, an effect which can automatically work
to form a destiny in their lives. In ancient times, every
movement the priest made during the service or ceremony
had a significance, a psychological significance, and accordingly
it made an impression on those who attended the services.
In the ceremonies and rituals of ancient peoples every movement
had a psychological significance. Thus we do not only attach
a meaning to a movement, but a movement very often has a
meaning in itself, and that meaning has an effect. A person
can even harm himself or others, not knowing the significance
of the movement he makes.
How can we know which movements are good or which have
a destructive effect? All we want to know we can know and
will know. Often we do not know things because we do not
care to know them. The field of knowledge is so vast and
yet so near that once we are interested in a subject it
is not only we that go towards it, but the subject comes
to us. To begin to discover the significance of movements,
their character, their nature, their mystery we have only
to watch, and our sense of right proportion, our sense of
beauty and harmony, will begin to show us what suggests
destruction and what suggests to us harmony, sympathy, love,
beauty, or fineness. We have only to give our attention
to it and it will all come; but to describe which movement
is constructive and which is destructive would take volumes.
It is perhaps as difficult and as subtle as making out which
word is destructive and which word is constructive, and
what hidden psychological significance each word has besides
its common meaning.
Furthermore, our life as it is just now, so busy and
occupied with material things, gives us little opportunity
to look into the deeper significance of life. It keeps our
mind occupied on the surface all day long, so that we have
become ignorant of what is behind the veil of the life itself
which we are living, of the movements around us and of the
movements we make. It is a kind of intoxication, and it
keeps us floating on the surface, ignorant of the depths
of life, for we have no time to think of these things. Nevertheless,
these things have their meaning, their significance, and
their effect just the same, whether we know them or not.
The blessings given by the sages, the good wishes and
prayers of the masters, were always connected with movement.
The movements made the prayer alive; they insured that the
blessings were granted. No doubt if movement is without
silent thought and deep feeling it is less than thought
and feeling, it is almost nothing; but when a movement is
made with a living and sincere thought, and with deep feeling,
it will make the thought and feeling a thousand times more
effective.
checked 03-Sep-2006