Real question, do any of you get tired from going in the shower? Not like oh I had a long day this is just one thing too many today, tired. But I am moderately ok going in, but the second I get out, bam gone are all the spoons.

See I live with people who think taking a shower is refreshing. May in fact boost their energy levels. For me however it’s instant loss of all energy for the day. No matter if I just got out of bed or not.

I don’t know what exactly does it either. Is it the movement, the stretching? It could be I suppose, although you’d expect a more gradual decline. Or if it is my body’s usual way of just going all soufflé as soon as we are done, you’d expect it to hit when you go sit down. But nope. The second I step out of the shower it’s like, I need to sit down or I’m going to be lying down in 0.2 seconds flat.

I’ve considered it might have something to down with the temperature shift, but idk. What I do know is that it’s exhausting and annoying. And I’d like to know if it’s just me.

Ninety Minutes in a Float Tank

Yesterday I went to a float spa.  My sister gave me a 90-minute float for my birthday back in October, and it only took me two and half months to find a way (time off, a sitter, the gumption to do something nice for myself) to get there.  Here’s my experience, for my future self’s reference when the noise starts creeping back in. 

I made the thirty minute drive listening to the opening chapters of Girl, Wash Your Face (I know—it’s so popular that it risks becoming a cliché, but one of my most treasured friends loved it and shared her Audible copy with me, so I’m diving in).   I walked in fifteen minutes early as recommended by the website (“to give yourself time to check in and transition into the space”), and I was greeted by a wide open waiting area and bright-eyed Montel, who walked his bare feet right up to me and shook my hand.  He welcomed me, asked me to remove my shoes (and leave them by the front door, under his supervision, I hoped), and then invited me to sit anywhere that was comfortable.   There were too many options (couches, wooden chairs, loveseats, benches), so I went with the nearest sofa and sat, open to the experience but still resisting actually letting myself be comfortable.  I sat on the edge of the cushion, legs crossed, leaning into the armrest, fully aware of my body language despite the nice conversation I then had about writing and music with the Montel (he has a BA in vocal music).  I did what was familiar: walked the edge of a conversation that could have felt good, but kept my follow-up questions and anecdotes to myself because, after all, we weren’t going to spend much more time together, and it’s not like we were going to see each other again in any kind of social context, so… At least this time I learned from how awkward this made me feel.  Surrounded by incense and all the signs of holistic healing at work, where is there a BETTER place to leap into a conversation about our passions?  Why hold back?  Why not spark those fires at every chance we have?  What the hell was I doing? 

After waiting for someone else to arrive (who, as far as I know, never did), we went back to the rooms and I got the tour, the tutorial of how to do this, where to look for reminder instructions, where to hang my towel should I get salt water on my face, the button to push if I want the light back on, the button to push that does absolutely nothing, despite the music note decal above it.  

Before he left me to it, he shook his head with a big smile (not that it ever really left his face) and shrugged and said, “I’m so excited that you’re a writer,” because THAT was what he clung to: I’m a teacher, sure—that’s how I make money, and I love it.  But what he saw was a writer.  Artists recognizing artists.  Awesome.

I showered, dried my face as told, opened the sealed door, stepped into the room (it was a room, not a pod, though he showed me what those look like, too), laughed to myself at how slick the floor was and the fact that I hadn’t anticipated that, latched the door completely, and lowered into the water.  

I pushed the only working button, and the teal light gently faded away as zen-inducing music came in.  

For a long time, I had pictured myself in this setting: closed eyes (like it mattered in the pitch blackness), neck and shoulders finally straight and relaxed, arms drifting a few inches from my hips as I found my center, or peace, or nirvana, or whatever it was that I was supposed to find when my physical senses were finally given a chance to rest.  Instead, I spent the first I-want-to-say half of the experience with my arms up over my head (because that’s where they kept drifting, forcing me to finally understand where the “Dead Man’s Float” got its name), bending in different angles at the waist because I suddenly felt so flexible and free, and since I couldn’t see anything, hell, maybe I WAS a contortionist all of a sudden!  Montel had told me that at the end of the session, the light would come back on and some piano music would come in, and at that point, I should just let loose and play: bounce off the walls, try to float on my stomach, swim around and be silly.  

Faced with the darkness and impending silence (the music was going to fade out eventually), I instead told myself that my spirit is too playful to lie still like I was supposed to, and I gave myself permission to move however I wanted, instead of berating myself for wasting this opportunity on movement.  

The music died away, and in the silence I could hear my breath extra loudly, thanks not only to the water, but to the earplugs I wore to protect me from it.  I felt like I couldn’t get my neck to relax, so I tried the floating headrest.  It was fine for a while, and I started to grow still, but it threatened to give me a headache once my head started to feel heavy for some reason, so I reached for the wall (there it is. No, that’s the door.  That means it’s to the right.  Here we go. The hook was above the light. There’s the light.  No, that’s a filter jet.  There’s the light.  That means the hook is…how far…?) and hung up the headrest only to have it fall and splash a drop of salt water on my face.  Part of me knew immediately that this droplet would not bother me.  I’d practiced enough mindfulness meditation that I could just let it go, but a louder, more controlling part of me said, “This is part of the experience!  You have to use the spray bottle and the towel he recommended hanging near the door to wipe your face so you aren’t distracted by the itch of drying water!”  So I did.  I also pushed the music note button, and sure enough, it didn’t do anything.

Looking back, I think it was at this point that my maternal self looked at me lovingly and sternly, with “Alright.  That’s enough,” on her face, and I finally felt like I was ready to stop doing the float and just be floating.  

It grew quieter in my head, all the gnat-like thoughts flitting and staying away for longer and longer, and in this new, different silence, I surprised my future self. I said (in my head), “Alright, god. Here I am.”

You probably don’t know me too well (so it surprises me that you’d have read this far), but I am not a religious person.  And this isn’t a religious piece, at least not as I understand it.  I was not taught to foster any kind of relationship with a god, and I never really spoke to one growing up unless I wanted something.  I was great at bargaining with a hazy, distant god vaguely introduced to me by my born-again Pentecostal grandma, and sometimes I let myself be comforted by the notion that someone might be looking out for me, but for my adult life, the idea of g/God has been like kombucha for me: I know it does some people real good, but I just can’t make myself like it.  I don’t mind if you enjoy it; I’m going to say, “No, thanks.”

I also said, back-to-back with my announcement to that god, “Enlightenment, or whatever you are, I’m here.”  This is less surprising, because I know myself well enough that while I don’t dismiss most things New Age or holistic, when faced with the opportunity for enlightenment, I’m so tired and tense and perpetually drained lately that I would approach it with glibness, that I would look it in the face and say, “Well???”

I’d love to say that I then had some kind of vision or realization, that some fog had lifted for me and everything felt clear and right again.  Some people hallucinate; I did not, aside from thinking that I was seeing light come in through the door when I definitely wasn’t (the door wasn’t where I thought it was when I made that trip for the towel).  I may have fallen asleep, or started to, more than once because I felt myself come back to my body (this is the only way I know how to describe the feeling of waking up when opening my eyes was no different than closing them) without realizing I’d lost awareness of the water around me.  No god spoke to me in any voice, my own included, but when I used my last conscious thought to announce that I was ready to listen, I did finally go still.  I did finally just exist without exertion and breathe without listening to my own breath. For ninety minutes, I unplugged from everything I could, and got as close as I’ve ever been to some intangible, indescribable peace.  My nose started to grow a little stuffy, I breathed too shallowly and had to take some catch-up breaths here and there, my joints popped and cracked as I shifted here and there and it was loud in the water, and all of that was no longer worth thinking about.  It was all genuinely okay, and that was enough to put me in a daze.

The room lit up soft blue again, and I had no concept of how long I was in my two states.  I am hopeful that I was quiet longer than I was restless, but it doesn’t matter.  I tasted the stillness and confirmed that even in me, in ever-reaching, ever-worried, ever-wanting me, it’s there. The promised piano music was instantly familiar: a softer version of The Pixies’ “Where is My Mind?” The choice made me smile—my husband introduced me to this song when we started dating eleven years ago, and I’ve never stopped loving it.  And you’d better believe I took Montel’s direction.  I pushed off the walls and glided across the water, bouncing here and there, waking up my limbs in the most fun way I could imagine until the song ended and I was left in the light.  

I smiled as I carefully pulled myself up and pushed open the door.  I smiled as I took my second shower, washing away all the salt water that threatened to really dry me out in the middle of winter. I smiled as I toweled off, put my clothes back on, took a deliberate last look around the little room, and stepped out into the hallway.  

I smiled when Montel found me in the quiet nook filled with cushions on the floor, mixed and matched blankets and a salt lamp decorating the small, cozy space intended to ease me back into the world.  He offered me water, and I smiled when I took it from him.

Had I not had a sitter waiting on my  return and a chiropractor appointment set later than afternoon (read: a life to return to), I don’t know how long I’d have stayed there.  When I first passed it, I didn’t think I’d use that room at all. But when I sat there on the floor drinking that water, I could still feel traces of the stillness sitting below the light headache that was setting in—a happiness hangover—and I wanted to live there.  

I don’t live there, though, so I walked out into the bright front space, hair still damp and messily finger-combed, face bare and relaxed as I found my shoes where I left them by the door.  I sat where Montel had in the beginning and made myself comfortable while I put them on, and he took my earlier seat and said a little bit more about how he loves the experience, throwing in a few lines about a membership that on another day might have irked me.  I didn’t mind.  We thanked each other, we said our goodbyes, and I stepped out into the wind to make my way back to the car.  I conformed to my seat a little more than usual on the drive back, and when someone almost clipped me on the highway, I let it go a little more quickly than usual. (Still, later that night, when someone ran a stop sign on my street, I honked at them and then flashed my brights at them, so you win some, you lose some).

I don’t know exactly what my takeaway is or why I’m always so determined to have one. Maybe it’s the writing teacher in me always trying to find a moral for my stories.  What I’m settling on is this: my muscles stiffened up later in the afternoon and an old ache in my hip was not permanently cured.  I woke up a little tense this morning, and I’ve yelled once or twice already.  I am not a changed woman.  But I did open myself to an experience that is not altogether unfrightening.  To be alone for ninety minutes without the anchors of sight, sound, or sensation could have pushed me into an anxiety spiral, it could have made me sad, it could have convinced me that  I am hopelessly tired and destined to be so forever.  But it didn’t.  I let my flighty, easily-distracted self play, and when she got all of her bullshit out of the system, what was left was the being that I’d deeply hoped was still in there somewhere: a part that did not need to examine or process, a part that could be not just comfortable but openly happy with the most permanent thing to which she is bound: herself.

7 Simple steps to Meditate for Beginners

September 12, 2015 by Savannah

When I first decided to meditate I was very confused. I kept hearing about it in my studies and how important it was and all the benefits it had, so I definitely knew I should practice it, but what was I suppose to do?

Everything I looked at just told me more benefits and said to practice it. It’s like everyone assumed the execution part was common knowledge or self explanatory.

Most people think of meditation as something very time consuming that requires tons of focus and practice. I sure did. They picture a bald monk dressed in cloaks, sitting cross legged on top of a mountain. Wind chimes in the background as he sits stone faced, deep in a meditative state, engulfed in the stillness of his peace.

Although practising meditation is going to definitely make it easier and effortless, you most certainly do not have to shave your head. In fact, in some cultures, the length of your hair represents spiritualness, but that’s a whole different blog post.

Meditation doesn’t have to be difficult at all. It doesn’t require free time or differing from your daily routine. Although making 10-15 minutes daily for it would get you the most of the benefits.

My personal meditation practice takes place sometimes while I yoga (if I’m lucky enough to be alone), in the shower, if I get tired during the day I may lie down with my son while he’s napping for a bit and meditate and I always, always, always meditate in bed until I fall asleep at night.

Why Meditate

Meditation has tons of benefits for your health, your mind and…well, everything. A study showed that people who meditate regularly lower their risk for mental deterioration as they age, such as alzheimers or dementia. I could go on about this topic for days and still find things to tell you but let me sum it up a bit and I’ll write a book or something later.

1. Healing

Meditation helps calm the body which brings down stress levels and allows the body to heal. This is why if your sick or injured they tell you to “get lots of rest”.

Everything takes energy. Your thoughts require energy and so does healing. You only get so much energy at a time to work with. When you allow that energy to flow from your mind and to whatever needs healing, you’ll heal faster and more efficiently.

Meditating is essentially just resting your mind and body. When you allow your body and mind to relax, you allow it to focus on making the necessary repairs to whatever needs repairing. This allows things to heal properly and in less time. Therefore, if you meditate on getting better (this means just sit quietly and think about it or clear your mind with the intention of healing) you will actually get better sooner.

2. Pain Relief

Accompanying the above reason, focusing on your breathing (also a form of meditation) has been scientifically proven to be a natural source of pain relief. Breathing deeply will also give you a bit of a natural high and improve oxygen flow which in turn also helps with healing.

3. Mood Improvement

Meditation helps improve your mood in all sorts of directions. It lowers stress levels which balances hormones and allows you to maintain balance emotionally. This is a win, win for everyone haha. Not only will you feel better with more stability in your mindset but everyone around you will too!

You’ll find yourself happier, less anxious, and virtually worry free.Learning meditation along with yoga has all but cured the severe anxiety that I’ve battled with my entire life.

It also allows for a sort of reboot which means you’ll also be more well rested. Which leads to more energy without the nap in as little as 10-15 minutes.

The reasons go on and on but I’ll move on and save the rest for my book. So now that we know why we should do this very incredibly important thing, how do we do this in a simple, non evasive way?

How do I meditate?

There is no one correct way to meditate. There are copious (My high school history teacher would be proud of this word) methods of incorporating this regularly into your life. Just like everything else in life, you have to experiment with different things and find out what works best for you and your schedule. Whatever jives with your soul.

    1. Do Nothing

(Pretend this is a numbered list. I dunno why it’s giving me such a hard time. I’ll meditate on it.)

Sit back and get comfortable.

Close your eyes and try not move.

Completely relax your body and sink into the couch or chair or wherever you have gotten comfortable.

Feel the weight of your body against the surface.

Ideally, quiet your mind but don’t force it.

Let the thoughts come and go naturally and once you notice your mind has wondered, gently quiet it again.

Sounds easier said than done, right? A trick to help quiet your mind is to focus on your breath. You can notice how it feels to inhale and exhale, feeling your lungs fill up and deflate. Or you can simply count the breaths. Pick a number like ten or twenty, count up to it and then start over at one and count to it again.

    2. Breathing Exercises

Continued from above, you can do breathing exercises anywhere, any time you think about it.

You can do the focused, detailed exercises (which take a lot of practice and concentration). There are tons of very specific meditation breathing methods. Or you can just make a point to breathe deeply. You can do this during any activity with ease. Breathing is probably the most convenient method of meditation.

    3. Passive Meditation

Examples of passive meditation are taking a walk or colouring. Anything you can do that you don’t have to think about. Showering is a good example. Where your physical body is occupied but your mind doesn’t have to do anything and can relax. Colouring is a really popular meditation tool right now. They’ve even created colouring books specifically for meditating.

Any passive exercise (something that doesn’t require much thought) that is calming is going to be great for you.

    4. Guided Meditation

There are tons of guided meditations out there. Basically, you sit back and relax (see “Do Nothing” point) and listen to a guide tell you how to feel or what to think about. Most people find this pretty helpful. I definitely think it’s a great way to start out. Listening to guided meditations is an easy way of learning different methods.

    5. Mantras and Mala Beads

A mantra is a word or phrase you repeat over and over again. For example, “Happiness is all around me” “I am Beautiful and confident” or “Money, money, money”. Whatever rocks your boat or whatever aspect you would like to improve upon.

Mala beads are beads on a string usually of 108 which form a necklace designed to keep you focused. One bead is larger or different than the rest, which is your starting point. You say your mantra once for every bead until you get around to the large bead again. At which point you can either continue with your mantra or switch to a different one.

6. Mindfulness

Mindfulness is a whole subject on its own really, but just as a simple overview, it basically means paying attention. Pay attention to your body. How does it feel? Scan trough it and take note of every little detail. Is any part in pain? What emotions are you feeling?

Pay attention to your surroundings. What do you see? What do you smell? What do you hear?

I heard a monk one time describe mindfulness as paying attention to absolutely everything just as you do when you drive a car, only all of the time as you walk through life. It was the best description to date I have ever heard of mindfulness.

Try to make a point to be completely aware of everything around you as you journey through life day-to-day. Take note of what makes you happy, what calms you, try to stay focused on these types of aspects and allow negativity to blow away with that wind I hope you noticed.

    7. Visualisation

Visualisation is a great and simple technique and one of my favourites.

It’s basically daydreaming about things you would like to happen. AsVishen Lakhiani taught me, envision your perfect day, step by step every morning the way you would like for it to turn out. Then envision what you want your life to be like in three years. He has a great meditation he likes to do and teach people that you would greatly benefit from looking up.

The magic is in the details so be as specific as possible in your day dreaming.

These are just some basics to starting a regular meditation practice for those of you who are new to it and don’t know where to begin. It doesn’t have to be hard and you don’t have to find time to sit alone and get all Zen. Find what works for you in your lifestyle and don’t stress over it.The whole point is to relax!

Best Vibes Always,

S.S.Blake

https://earthandwater.co/meditation/

A Quick History of Pilates

Pilates Biography Source(Google.com.pk) BIOGRAPHY A Summary;  His childhood;  Pilates an Anatomical model; Early Adulthood; In the late 20’s;  During the war years;  Training the Hamburg Police;  He moved to America at age 40;  The first Pilates Studio; The Golden years;  The Philosophy behind the ‘workout’; Modern Physiology confirms the wisdom; The death of Joseph Pilates;  Pilates Obituary New York Times;  The Joseph Pilates Fitness Craze;  The Real Joseph Pilates Legacy:- SUMMARY Pilates was enamoured of the classical Greek ideal of a man who is balanced equally in body, mind, and spirit. His experiences taught him to believe that the modern lifestyle, bad posture, and inefficient breathing were the roots of poor health. His answer to these problems was to design a unique series of life-enhancing physical exercises that help to correct muscular imbalances and improve posture, coordination, balance, strength, and flexibility, as well as to increase breathing capacity and organ function. HIS CHILDHOOD Joe was born in Mönchengladbach (a small town near Düsseldorf, Germany), on December 9th 1883. His mother, it is stated, "was a naturopath." Naturopaths believe in stimulating the body to heal itself, and it is likely that his mother's healing philosophy coloured his own approach to therapeutic exercises. Pilates was said to be a skinny, sickly child. He suffered from asthma, rickets and rheumatic fever. The older bullies taunted him with "Pontius Pilate, killer of Christ." He was too sickly to fight back or get away, and it was this situation that caused him to begin his life journey to fitness and health, and a desire to help people in similar need. PILATES TURNED INTO AN ANATOMIC MODEL OF EXCELLENCE A family physician gave him a discarded anatomy book: "I learned every page, every part of the body; I would move each part as I memorized it. As a child, I would lie in the woods for hours, hiding and watching the animals move, how the mother taught the young." He studied both Eastern and Western forms of exercise including yoga, Zen, and ancient Greek and Roman regimens. By the time he was 14 he had developed his body to the point that he was modelling for anatomy charts! Pilates with his niece (daughter of Fred Pilates, who lived in St. Louis Missouri). EARLY ADULTHOOD A boxer, gymnast, skier and diver.  Growing up in Germany, and working at the local brewery, he achieved some success as a boxer and gymnast in addition to being a skilled skier and diver. In the late 20's he moved to England, performing a Roman Gladiator Act.  In 1912 he went to England for further training as a boxer. He found employment there as a circus performer. By 1914 he had become a star and was on tour - he and his brother (Frederick Pilates: read about Fred's daughter Mary) performed as Roman Gladiators Joseph Pilates, age 59: demonstrating Classical Greek Perfection... During the War Years his life was spent as a Hospital "Nurse-Physiotherapist".  In 1914 after WWI broke out he was interned along with other German nationals in a "camp" for enemy aliens in Lancaster. There he taught wrestling and self-defence, boasting that his students would emerge stronger than they were before their internment. It was here that he began refining and teaching his minimal equipment system of mat exercises that later became "Contrology." He was subsequently transferred to another camp on The Isle of Man where his interests in health led him to help out in the sick bay. He became something of a nurse and worked with many internees suffering from illness and incarceration. His caring disposition led him to request that he help the patients in the infirmary with exercise. Bed rest was the norm in those days, so he was told, "you can do anything you like with them, as long as they stay in bed". So Joseph took the springs from the beds and rigged them up to the bed posts as exercise apparatus for the bedridden! Thus was born the Trapezium table ("Trap Table") later known as The Cadillac.  Joseph was both inventive and resourceful in solving the health and exercise needs of his friends and neighbours! When the 1918 'flu epidemic swept the world, (it killed millions, and an internment camp is an ideal breeding ground for such epidemics to hit hard), none of Joe's followers succumbed! Joseph called this approach "Contrology", and explained it in his book "Return to Life through Controlology, your whole body is in it." Pilates the Showman explaining another piece of apparatus... Training the Hamburg Military Police:-  After the war Joe returned to Germany and began training the Hamburg Military Police in self-defence and physical training as well as taking on personal clients. It was at this time that he met Rudolf von Laban, a famous movement analyst, who is said to have incorporated some of Joe's theories and exercises into his own work. In 1923 Pilates was invited to train the New German Army but, because he was not happy with the political direction of Germany, he decided to leave. The urgings of his American based relatives - his uncle (an influential catholic priest), his brother Frederick, and his sister Helen - would have played a part in his decision to move. The last half of the "Life of Pilates Bio" was spent in America... He moved to America at age 40, on the urging of boxing expert Nat Fleischer and, with the aid of Max Schmelling, Pilates did move to the U.S.  It was en route to America that Joe met Clara who was to become his second wife (I know of no information about a reported first wife.) She was a kindergarten teacher who was suffering from arthritic pain and Joe worked with her on the boat to heal her and give her a new lease of life. THE FIRST PILATES STUDIO The first Pilates Studio was surrounded by Dance Studios:-  Upon arriving in New York City Joe and Clara took over a boxing gym at 939 Eighth Ave, in the same building as several dance studios and rehearsal spaces. It was this proximity that made "Controlology" such an intrinsic part of the life, rehab and training of many dancers: They were sent to Joe to be "fixed". THE GOLDEN YEARS OF THE PILATES BIOGRAPHY In the Pilates biography, 1926 until 1966 were the golden years - From 1939 to 1951 Joe and Clara went every summer to Jacob's Pillow, a well-known dance camp in the Berkshire Mountains. He was a friend and teacher to many renowned dancer/choreographers, and many required their dancers to go to Joseph. One - Hanya Holm - even incorporated Joe's exercises into her students' lessons. Joseph counted many socialites, plumbers and doctors, (just to list a few), as his clients as well. THE PHILOPSOPY BEHIND THE JOSEPH PILATES WORKOUT Joseph had a rough but kindly manner with his clients. Even the New York city slicker of those days could tolerate his exercise approach (unlike today, people back then still knew how to walk the sidewalk and climb the stairs). Exercise sessions with Joe were not meant to tire, but rather to invigorate. He would say at the end of the session, "One hour! Hit ze shower!".If he felt the client was in need of a lesson in personal hygiene or skin care, he was not averse to joining them in the shower, so as to demonstrate how to use the hard bristled scrubbing brush! Pilates in his late seventies. Able to squat and still full of Life... Modern exercise physiology confirms the wisdom of the Joseph Pilates approach - you cannot efficiently build muscle bulk/flexibility, while at the same time performing a hard aerobic workout - it doesn't work; just leads to unnecessary extra stress loading. Such sessions should always be performed separately. Joseph Pilates was something of a health guru. Nevertheless, he was renowned for liking cigars, whiskey (or was that vodka?), and women. He was the life of many parties, and was to be seen running on Manhattan streets, in the dead of winter, in his habitual "bikini bottom" training attire!  He believed in fitness supporting life's rich goals. THE DEATH OF JOSEPH PILATES The following is a quote by Pilates "Elder" Mary Bowen :- "The Fire" - People often ask me "Did Joe Pilates die in a fire?" One woman in London where I was giving a workshop at the Pilates Foundation of UK last May said she had read that it was so in The New York Times. To set the record straight - no, Joe did not die in a fire. He died two years later, in 1967, of advanced emphysema from smoking cigars for too many years (which he took up out of disappointment that he wasn't taken more seriously by the powers that be, especially physicians, during his lifetime). His personal friend, Evelyn de la Tour, shared that with me. There was a fire in 1965 in the storage room at the back of his floor. The studio and his and Clara's apartment were in the front of the building and were undamaged. Bruce King had an apartment near the storage room. He had to move out due to severe smoke damage. The day after the fire Joe went to inspect the extent of loss to his possessions in the storage room and one of his feet fell through a hole in the floor scraping his leg. That was the extent of his injury from the fire.  The fire was in January 1966. Joseph's actual death was in October 1967”. PILATES OBITUARY NEW YORK TIMES Joseph's New York Times obituary records that he died at Lenox Hill Hospital. He would have been (born December 9th 1883) 83 years old at his death. The obituary reads like an advertisement for Contrology - very fitting indeed! He is described thus: ‘a white-manned lion with steel blue eyes (one was glass from a boxing mishap), and mahogany skin, and as limber in his 80's as a teenager’ Pilates out Skiing, complete with one of the Cuban Cigars that eventually took his life. THE JOSEPH PILATES FITNESS CRAZE Clara Pilates, regarded by many as the more superb teacher, continued to teach and run the studio until the end of her life 10 years later, in 1977. Initially, Hollywood celebrities discovered Pilates via Ron Fletcher's studio in Beverly Hills. The Pilates fitness craze presumably blossomed from there. Joseph called his style of fitness "Controlology", but the public call it simply "Pilates." Where the stars go, the media follow, and when the media follow, fashion follows!  It was the late 1980s, and the Pilates fitness boom started. "I'm fifty years ahead of my time," Joe claimed - and he was right. No longer the workout of the elite, Pilates has truly returned to life and entered the mainstream of fitness, and has even established itself as a physiotherapeutic modality in its own right: Today, perhaps ten million people world-wide regularly practice "Pilates", and the numbers are growing! Its a great tribute to the Pilates Life and Biographical Life Story! THE REAL JOSEPH PILATES LEGACY Joe Pilates' greatest legacy remains his 34 Contrology Exercises. Many modern Pilates schools teach them differently. Very often, the exercises lose something in the translation. For example: the editor (Bruce Thomson) has considerable problems with tight muscles and trigger points. Many supposedly sound physiotherapeutic interpretations of Joe's work do not fully cater for the problem of tight muscles. But the Joe Pilates 34 exercises do. They do this by working the muscles over their longer range, and by "finding the stretch". Modern interpreters say that Joe's exercises are too difficult in their original form. But Joe had an answer for this: "Uncle Joe said when you did the hundred, you started with your legs 2 inches off the floor. If you could only do 10 repetitions, that's all you did that day....until you could do 11." Quote: Mary Pilates, Joseph's niece. Source: Personal Communication, from (Fran Perel: Parkland Pilates, Coral Springs South Florida). Pilates, age 82. This picture epitomises the Pilates life and bio! JOSEPH PILATES BOOKS In order to learn more of Joseph Pilates' philosophy and biography, you need to read his books. They are still in print, and make good reading:- Your Health: A Corrective System of Exercising That Revolutionizes the Entire Field of Physical Education (1934) by Joseph H. Pilates and Judd Robbins (Editor) Pilates' Return to Life through Controlology. (1945) Joseph H. Pilates, William J. Miller, Judd Robbins (Editor) (contains a set of 34 classic Pilates mat Exercises).