一條皮拉提斯的繩子，讓我突然理解「核心」
最近在練皮拉提斯的時候，因為我的核心還在學習要怎麼出力，於是我的教練用了一些穩定繩來協助我，一開始要練的是躺著，躺在皮拉提斯床上，身體與腳呈現Ｌ型的姿勢，用腳來推動讓身體往上，基本上這會誘發核心要出力，但試了幾次之後不盡理想，這時教練在我的左右大腿上個別綁了輔助繩，目的就是藉由繩子與彈簧的的拉力，迫使我的核心出力。我當下整個人有一種腦大與身體大通的感覺，原來為了要讓我的核心出力，其實我需要很大的外界拉力，才能真正的讓我核心出力並好好的使用核心！！！！
這也讓我直接連接到我的內在核心，這與心理韌力不也就是這樣嗎？一直以來我都很害怕外界的聲音紛擾，不自覺的會一直受影響，常常想逃到國外或是整個消失，很常焦慮害怕，拖延，睡不好，而不管是身處在國外或是逃到世界的天涯海角，我知道我也還是會受影響。而當我的身體為了穩定我腿上的彈簧與繩的的拉力時，我的核心居然才真正的出到力氣並且完成鍛鍊！
這一剎那我突然理解，原來這些外界的聲音以及批判，就是在鍛鍊我的心智，迫使讓我內在的信念出來 (OMG! )，這些外在的拉力就像是輔助繩 一樣，是在輔助我，讓我啟動與鍛鍊我的內在核心不被拉走。我就像是蜘蛛網的中心點，不管外在的風怎麼吹，大樹怎麼隨風移動而拉扯到我的網子，我都必須好好地守住我整張網子，不讓他被拉走變形甚至是破掉，而如果有人黏在我的網子上，我就把他吃掉！（這說法會不會太血腥 !?) 我就把這些黏在我網子上的障礙物除掉。也就是從我腦中/心中除掉。
其實也就短短一秒鐘，當教練告訴我他要綁輔助繩在我的腿上時，沒想到開啟我這麼大宇宙噴發的領悟，突然可以很理解為什麼很多人喜歡做運動鍛鍊或是很多很厲害的運動員對於人生的體悟跟堅持，真的在身體鍛鍊這個過程中，跟心裡的鍛鍊也是一起的。
這也讓我重新看待 運動 與 鍛鍊 我突然更理解 運動 與 鍛鍊 到底是什麼，我想應該也會讓我更有毅力的撐過去。
突然想到19歲在外地唸書的時候，我在學校的技術老師應該就有看出我的心裡韌性不是那麼的穩固，而他當時用了很堅定的口氣跟我再三確認並且說你確定嗎？這不是正常的做法，你確定要我幫你這樣做嗎？沒想到當下我被他的口氣跟態度嚇到。我居然妥協，馬上改成正常的做法，但之後我就後悔了，但我一直的想法是，對方為什麼要測試我，與為什麼不聽我的指令，我甚至還跑去跟其他老師告狀，委屈地哭。我想當時的技術老師應該是怕了，因為很怕被說是種族歧視吧，之後就對我特好。
在往後的幾年裡，我其實也被同學們提醒我太軟，"太細緻" (Dalicate) 而我還不太高興，想想同學真的已經對我用詞很好了，而且也願意提醒我。
過去曾讀過韌力 Resilience by Dr. Steven Southwick & Dr. Dennis Charney & Dr. Jonath M. Depierro 這本書，書的副標是 " The Science of Mastering Life's Greatest Challenges " 中文書所寫的副標 “ 釋放創傷、挺過挫折，在逆境中前進的復原力 ”
Quote 博客來網站上的介紹：
壞事總會發生，重要的是該如何因應！
科學實證 × 實用技巧 × 案例示範
有關「韌力」最全面、最具科學性的權威之作
鍛鍊韌力，就是培養你的──
➤正向力 ➤耐挫力 ➤情商力 ➤恆毅力 ➤調適力 ➤變通力
三位研究身心創傷及心理韌力的世界級專家，
凝聚數十年實證精華，提出10項重要的心智技能，
為大腦打造全新應對系統，更有彈性地面對挑戰，
成為擊不倒、復原快的強韌者。
當時看完之後還沒有這麼深刻的體會，沒想到再一次的身體肌肉鍛鍊之下，把之前所讀進去的書真真實實地用生活的體驗，活生生地印在了我的身體跟心理。
A Pilates Rope and My Sudden Understanding of “Core” (translate by Ai)
Recently, during a Pilates session, I had a small moment of revelation about the idea of “core.”
My core muscles are still learning how to engage properly, so my instructor introduced a set of stabilizing ropes to help guide the movement. The exercise began in a lying position on the Pilates reformer: my torso and legs forming an L-shape, pushing through the legs to lift the body upward. In theory, this movement should naturally activate the core.
But after several attempts, it still wasn’t quite working.
So the instructor tied assistance straps around each of my thighs. The purpose was simple: the tension created by the ropes and springs would force my body to recruit the core in order to stabilize.
And suddenly, something clicked.
It felt as if my brain and body connected in a single instant. I realized that in order for my core to truly activate, I actually needed a strong external force pulling against me. Only then did my core finally engage and do the work it was meant to do.
That moment connected directly to something deeper inside me.
Isn’t psychological resilience a bit like this?
For a long time, I’ve been afraid of external noise—criticism, opinions, expectations. I’m easily affected by it. Sometimes I feel like running away: moving abroad, disappearing somewhere far from everything. Anxiety creeps in. I procrastinate. I sleep poorly. Yet even if I escaped to the other side of the world, I know those forces would still reach me.
But in that Pilates moment, as my body stabilized the tension of the springs and ropes around my legs, my core finally engaged with real strength.
And suddenly I understood:
Those external voices and criticisms might actually be training my mind.
They are the forces that call my inner beliefs into action.
The external pull is like the assistance ropes.
They aren’t there to drag me away.
They are there to help me activate and strengthen my inner core.
In that moment, another image appeared in my mind.
I am like the center of a spider’s web.
No matter how the wind blows, or how the trees sway and tug at the strands of the web, the spider must remain at the center—holding the entire structure together so it doesn’t warp, collapse, or tear apart.
And if something gets caught in the web…
Well, the spider eats it.
(Perhaps that metaphor is a bit violent.)
Let’s say instead: the spider clears the obstacles from the web.
In the same way, the obstacles that stick to my web can simply be removed—from my mind and from my heart.
The entire realization probably lasted only a second. When my instructor casually said he would attach the assistance ropes to my legs, I never expected such a small moment to open an entire universe of insight.
Suddenly I understood why so many people love physical training, and why great athletes often speak about life with such clarity and conviction. When the body trains, the mind trains with it.
This moment also changed the way I look at exercise itself.
I feel as if I finally understand what training really means.
And perhaps this understanding will give me the endurance to keep going.
It also brought back a memory.
When I was nineteen and studying away from home, a school technical instructor once sensed that my psychological resilience might not be very strong. I remember asking him to do something in a way that wasn’t standard practice. He looked at me very seriously and asked, more than once:
“Are you sure? This is not the normal way. Are you certain you want me to do it like this?”
His tone startled me. I backed down immediately and switched to the conventional method.
Later, I regretted it.
At the time, my only thoughts were:
Why was he testing me? Why wouldn’t he simply follow my instructions?
I was so upset that I even complained to another teacher and cried about it.
Looking back now, I suspect that instructor may have become cautious afterward—perhaps worried about being misunderstood or accused of discrimination. From that point on, he treated me extremely kindly.
In the years that followed, classmates also told me something similar: that I was too soft, too delicate. I didn’t like hearing that at the time. But in hindsight, they were actually choosing their words carefully—and they cared enough to point it out.
Years ago, I also read the book Resilience by Dr. Steven Southwick, Dr. Dennis Charney, and Dr. Jonathan M. DePierro. Its subtitle is “The Science of Mastering Life’s Greatest Challenges.”
At the time, I understood the ideas intellectually, but the insight wasn’t yet deeply embodied.
Now, through something as simple as a physical exercise, the knowledge I once read in a book suddenly returned—this time written not only in my mind, but in my body.
