About
As all good things, Feldenkrais happened to me by chance and when I was least looking for it. Early in my twenties, I had just returned to Italy after writing my master thesis in Madrid. I went to my "usual" elite table tennis training — one which I had not regularly attended for months —, and then I inline-skated home. I was exhausted and, as young as I was, I had not yet learned to feel myself. The day after, I was broken: I was so stiff in my chest that I could hardly move without losing my breath. I had had lung issues as a teenager, and as a result of that I had become used to occasional tension in my torso, but this was out of any scale. I had been doing yoga for the past 5 years at that point, but I couldn't help myself out of that situation.
After 3 days in bed, my sister mentioned that she had a friend doing Functional Integration, and that it might help me. I was still a youngster dismissing everything not having a green stamp from academia, and Feldenkrais surely wasn't among those, but I felt like I had no other option. I went to see someone who, in my mind, was pretty much a witch. I did not feel like she was doing much, and was growing more and more restless. I didn't feel like much had happened in that hour and I wasn't feeling much difference after the session. I was shocked to find myself quite all right the day after. I tiptoed into my regular life again, had another session with her, and never thought about it again. She was, after all, just a special sort of physiotherapist.
I got through school and university and the beginning of my work life with all sorts of body issues, some of which I thought I just needed to co-habitate with. I had fragile knees, and was in for a knee surgery that luckily never happened; I had headaches due to stiffness in my shoulders, and used to take painkillers on a monthly basis; for two years I had pain in one hip and leg and, after that, to the other; I injured my wrist doing acroyoga, and I wondered if I'd ever be able to do pushups again; I strained my lower back and was unsure whether I'd be able to do things normally again. I visited many physicians, none of whom was able to fix me nor to give me any real reassurance that I would heal, and out I went again, thinking I'd have to accept my fragile body and still seeking somebody who could, from outside, set me straight. More and more, it felt like nobody could help me, and that I might be the only person capable of helping myself.
Fast forward several years, and into a period of major transition in my life, Feldenkrais kept popping up. Through a series of coincidences, I ended up enrolling into a Feldenkrais professional training, not quite knowing what I was going in for. Within the first month of training, if felt like all my previous experiences and skills were coming in and that I had, most unexpectedly, landed on something that matched a sensitivity I was never entirely aware of having. Paying attention, something which I had come to consider as a curse, was now being put to good use; Awareness Through Movement classes had the same architectural quality of mathematical proofs; the mentoring and personal help I could provide through individual functional integration sessions resonated with the tutoring and teaching work I had done with children and teenagers. Experiencing and looking at movement, its quality, its ease, and its smoothness, has become my daily joy.
One of the taglines of Feldenkrais is Awareness Through Movement, and that's no coincidence. Feldenkrais quickly trascended the physical aspect and expanded onto my whole person. It has made me more comfortable with the person I am, and in allowing the people around me to be who they are. Stepping out of the mindset of having to be right has been a huge gift. The Feldenkrais method has given me the tools to use myself better, to help others become more excellent at what they already can do, to enlarge their area of comfort and possibility, and to assist them on their path to health and joy.
Other than that, my background has been quite diverse (and distant!) from movement.
I hold a BSc in Mathematics, a MSc in Computer Science, and I did 3 years of research in mathematics for the climate.
I have been a teacher to groups and individuals in maths and science, from elementary school up to post-graduate level.
I did software engineering of various forms, and then focused on teaching engineers how to use particular technologies — to that end, I've written millions of words on the a variety of topics.
I was an assistant photographer, I founded a not-for-profit running science workshops for children, I played ping pong in an elite group for over 5 years, I spent many summers hiking hundreds of kilometers on long trails in Sweden, Spain, Ireland, Scotland, and played a little bit of classical music on the side.
After my theoretical studies I developed an overwhelming interest in body and movement. Yoga has been an alley for over a decade; acroyoga and dance popped in later on; the Feldenkrais method and its refinement of ability has been its culmination.
All these Very Different Experiences have given me tools to empathize with people's different walks of life and craft learning journeys that meet them where they are, and bring them where they don't yet know they could be.
I'm based in Stockholm 🇸🇪 and I often travel around (in and out of Sweden).
I had the privilege of meeting a variety of Feldenkrais trainers. Each has left a special mark on me:
From Mara Fusero, I learned to see the beauty I was overlooking in myself.
From Ettore Porcari, I learned the richness of touch as a language.
From Julie Peck, I learned to trust myself and to feel my neutral.
From Donna Ray, I learned to listen and be there for another person.
From Kathrine Hume-Cook, I learned to be aware of the space I'm taking.
From Scott Clark, I learned to be as soft as water.
From Yvo Mentens, I learned that we're fine just the way we are.
From Raz Ori, I learned that expectations are dangerous, especially when they don't match reality.