I motioned Suze aside and took her place facing Christie. “Partners, you’re going to step forward—one step only—and as you breathe out, put your palms on your partner’s shoulders and push, like so.” I stepped forward and pushed Christie so that she swayed slightly. “When you feel yourself moving backwards, go with it. Christie, you push me.”
Christie stepped in, pushed—she even remembered to breathe out— and I slid my right foot back a further eighteen inches.
“Note how I simply widened my base. Your turn.”
They pushed each other.
Sandra, instead of gliding back, turned in and to the side, a flinch built of a thousand blows. I adjusted her body as she moved.
I went down the line, pushing, letting them push me, so they could feel how to melt backwards from the thrust, reminding them of chins, knees, shoulders.
I motioned Sandra aside. “Now we’re going to step up the force a little.” I nodded for Therese to push me. She did, both hands firm on my shoulders and body behind the thrust. I moved back—right leg, then left leg— and had to rein in the automatic diagonal step, turn, and throw that would have put Therese on her back. I breathed. In and out. It was good to feel the living moment between two bodies, to feel the feedback, play with some of the strength. I smiled. “Good.” I gestured for Therese to ready herself. I pushed, a solid thrust. Therese stepped smoothly. “Very good. Now you try. Imagine you’re a train just sliding back on a rail in a straight line. Easy.”
Except Suze wasn’t finding it easy.
“It’s not a fight,” I said. I reached out slowly and put my hands on her biceps and triceps. “Breathe.” I shook her, very gently, until her arms unlocked and she stopped tilting her torso forward, stopped resisting. “Good. Now step back.” I guided her. “And again. And again.” I guided her more quickly, and again, until she was walking smoothly backwards. I brought her back to the line and motioned Christie in to push Suze. “Good. Balance isn’t about never going down, it’s about free movement, self-determined movement.”
She let Christie push her. And again, and started to get it right.
I clapped for attention. “Watch.” I stood straight, and in one movement tucked my chin, raised my arms out before me, squatted with a gushing out-breath, and toppled onto my back, turtle-like, rocking. I reversed the movement and stood. “It’s not hard. We’ll begin with squats.”
At first it was as though they had never squatted in their lives, but after three or four tries, muscle memory took over.
“Next time you go down, stay there. Arms out. Chins tucked. Squat as deeply as possible. Get your backside as close to the mat as you can.” I squatted opposite Therese and pushed her very gently so that she tipped over backwards. She rocked. I tipped Suze, who went over like a rolling puppy. She laughed as she bounced back up. I tipped Christie, and Tonya, then Katherine, who went down with a thump, straightened out with fright, and bumped her head on the mat. “Keep your chin tucked. Feel the difference? Good.” Pauletta. Kim. Nina. Sandra watched me as I squatted opposite her. “Chin in.” She tucked, and her eyes unlocked from mine. I found myself reluctant to touch her, but did anyway. I pushed. She went over as though committing herself to the deep, a giving-over of her whole self. It made me want to wipe my hands on the carpet. I moved quickly to Jennifer, who went over with a thin gasp and found herself amazed to have survived.
“And again, only this time you let yourself fall backwards without me touching you.” They did that, some more readily than others, but once they’d all done it at least three times, I had them stand. “Now we’re going to put it together, all of us at the same time. Breathe in, chins tucked. Arms out. Breathe out, and squat, and over backwards.” Neither Katherine nor Jennifer went over. I pretended I hadn’t noticed. “And up. And breathe in, chins in, arms out, squat and breathe out, and back.” Jennifer went over. Katherine swayed. “And up again.”
And again, and down Katherine went. And again, and again, until none of them was hesitating.
“Sit up, please.”
Most of them were grinning. I was, too.
They seemed to have forgotten how vulnerable they had felt about their naked feet.
“Anyone dizzy?”
“Bit,” Katherine said.
“It’s to be expected. Take a minute to breathe.” I motioned them back, so they scrambled off the mat, then I did an easy forward shoulder roll and back to my feet. I did it again, backwards, and again, forwards, on the other shoulder.
“Show-off,” Nina said.
“Yes,” I said, and grinned.
“I can’t do that,” Jennifer said.
“We’ll start slowly. Watch.” This time I squatted. “I know you can do this.” They smiled. I reached forward and down with my left hand and then under my right knee, almost a scooping motion, until my left forearm lay along the ground. I touched the palm of my right hand to the mat directly in front of me, between my left elbow and my knees. “Now I tuck my head and turn it so that I’m looking back under my right armpit. Then I bend and bend and bend until I can’t stay on my feet any longer.” And over I went, in what as a child we had called a tipply overtail. “We’ll do it one at a time. Make a line. Jennifer, you first.”
She looked panic-stricken but I ignored it.
“Squat. Left arm here, right hand here, tuck, look back under—no, as far as you can, I want you to be able to see the wall behind you. Good. Keep your head tucked and your abdominal muscles tight. Just curl up and let me push you. Over you go,” and I pushed her backside lightly and she went over like a ball of wool. “Off to the back of the line. Next.”
We got all the way through the line—Suze, Sandra, Tonya, Christie— without serious trouble, but then, to my surprise, Nina balked.
“I’m old,” she said. “What about osteoporosis?”
“All the more reason to learn to fall properly. You won’t spend your old age terrified of icy pavement and polished tile. Squat.”
“But…”
“Squat. Left arm here. Right hand here. Tuck your chin. Breathe. In and out. Can you see the wall behind you?”
Pauletta said, “She’s so old and decrepit she probably can’t see it without her trifocals anyhow.”
Nina practically shoved her head under her armpit and I pushed her over. “Whoa!” she said, and shot to her feet, and realized she was in one piece. “Son of a bitch! I want to go again.”
And so we all went again. At the beginning of the third round I had them squat not so deep, and the fourth less deeply still. “Faster,” I said. “And this time push off from that front leg.” And they rolled merrily. “Now a volunteer to get on all fours at the front of the mat.”
Both Suze and Christie stepped forward.
“Two of you, then. All right.” I got them to crunch down next to each other, like cars lined up for Evel Knievel, and then I dived over them in a roll, smooth and soundless, and faced them. “To go over an obstacle, all you have to do is push off hard. Anyone want to try?”
Suze stood up. “I can do that.”
“Suze, remember all the…”
She just hurled herself over Christie and described an arc big enough to have overflown a Volkswagen. She landed a little harder than necessary but it was a sound, safe, sturdy roll.
“Whoo! That’s a rush!”
Some of them were white-faced and tentative, some sweaty and boisterous, but one by one they threw themselves over one another and emerged unscathed. The tang of adrenaline rose through the room like mist and the air conditioner labored to hold back the building heat. I couldn’t believe how well they were doing. I’d expected at least two of them to refuse. I began to feel responsible for their brilliance.