Okay, full disclosure: I’m Erin’s husband, so I have a a variety of deep-seated interests in Erin’s success as a NeuroMovement practitioner.

But that having been said, this work is life changing.

Grey, our son, was born very early. The “four pounds & ten ounces” kind of early. He was a difficult baby, and Erin and I both went a little crazy that first year. We finally got a diagnosis—Cerebral Palsy—shortly after his first birthday, although we had long since known that he wasn’t making the progress that he “should” be. He finally started sleeping through the night (occasionally) a couple months before Erin found the Anat Baniel Method while researching alternative therapies.

We figured it was worth a shot, and we started driving to Tulsa for the weekend once every three or four weeks.

We saw changes almost immediately. In fact, he crawled for the first time shortly after we returned from our first Tulsa trip. He slept—really slept through the night, which was amazing.

It wasn’t long after Grey began lessons when Erin brought up the idea of taking the training herself. She was passionate about it, so our family started the arduous journey that kept Erin busily studying in the evenings and regularly out of town for ten days at a time. We are tremendously blessed to be surrounded by family, without whom it wouldn’t have been possible.

And throughout Erin’s training, out of ready availability, if nothing else, I’ve been Erin’s chief Guinea pig. I was dubious that it would do me much good, although I had seen undeniable results in Grey. And also she needed a body. So I have received lesson after lesson from Erin. And, once I stopped to open myself up to the work rather than being merely a practice prop, I discovered that her work is really useful.

I’m more flexible than before. More aware of the way I use my body—and therefore less likely to abuse it. My back hurts far less than it used to, which is amazing since I’ve passed forty in the interim and I continue to whittle down a huge list of home improvement projects.

Lessons bothered me in the beginning. I kept wanting her to do more to me, to go ahead a fix me, instead of gently moving bits of my body around. Eventually I came to accept that the changes that most needed to happen were in my brain and its habits, rather than in my arm, or back, or neck. And as I’ve learned more from her, I’ve become healthier, stronger, and more physically capable.

NeuroMovement wasn’t what I expected. And it took a long time for me to understand it well enough to truly accept it as anything other than a kind of strange, gentle voodoo. But I am utterly convinced that my son has more successfully progressed because of it, and I am as sure as well that I use my body in a healthier, more sustainable manner.