Beth Burgmeyer shares a reflection on the profound impact Mark Taylor’s Life on Land: Vertebral Patterns had on her life
There are some experiences that are hard to explain unless you’ve felt them in your own body. This was one of those.
I recently attended a Natural Lifemanship training called Life on Land: Vertebral Patterns, led by Mark Taylor. Mark is a registered somatic movement educator with a background in dance and choreography. But what he brings is so much more than movement. He brings a way of listening. A way of sensing. A way of coming back into relationship with your own body.
At its core, the training focused on the developmental movement patterns we are all designed to move through in the first year of life:
Yield.
Push.
Reach.
Grasp.
Pull.
And then release.
Simple, right? But also… not simple at all. Because these aren’t just movements. They are the foundation of how we relate to ourselves, to others, and to the world around us.
When the Body Remembers What the Mind Can’t
We spent time crawling, scooting, rolling. Moving over the top of a yoga ball, reaching into space with a kind of abandon that felt both freeing and deeply familiar.
I remember thinking: How can something so simple create such a profound shift in my entire being?
But it did.
I’ve loved these patterns since I was first introduced to them through some other Natural Lifemanship trainings (including the Personal Immersion). I could stay in the rhythm of yield, push, reach, grasp, and pull all day. They feel complete in my body in a way that’s hard to describe.
But in this NL training, we went deeper. We slowed down enough to sense the subtle spaces within us: between the ribs, within the flow of cerebrospinal fluid, within the weight and presence of blood.
And I could feel the difference.
There were moments of lightness, almost like floating, when I connected with the fluidity of cerebrospinal fluid. And then moments of grounding, of being deeply held, when I sensed into my blood.
Both were true. Both were needed.
The Patterns Show Up in Our Relationships
There’s a quote that goes something like: how we do anything is how we do everything. These patterns don’t stay within the walls of the room where we practice these movements. They show up in our relationships.
Early in the training, we were invited to reflect on where we might feel stuck in one of these patterns.
For me, it was yield.
At the time, my young adult son was experiencing a relapse of severe depression after several years of stability. It was heartbreaking. Disorienting. And if I’m honest, it felt impossible to know how to be with him in a way that truly helped.
I realized something in that moment: I had skipped yield entirely. I had gone straight into push. Push felt safer, more proactive, like I was doing something. But it wasn’t helping. If anything, it may have been adding more pressure to an already fragile space.
Yield, on the other hand, felt vulnerable, uncertain. Like I might lose myself if I softened too much. And yet yield is where it all begins. It’s where connection begins.
Dancing Between Attachment and Detachment
We didn’t just explore these patterns on the ground. We brought them to the horses. With my horse, Leo, I experienced these patterns as a kind of dance. The rhythm of attachment and detachment.
And in that space, I began to understand something more deeply: Yield doesn’t mean collapse. It doesn’t mean losing structure or abandoning yourself. It means allowing, receiving, letting yourself be impacted while still staying connected to your own center.
Something Shifted
At the time of the training, I was also on the other side of cancer treatment. I had technically “healed,” but there were lingering effects: fatigue, brain fog, a heaviness in my body that felt hard to shake. Like my blood itself had been weighed down.
About two weeks after the training, I noticed something had shifted. I remember saying to my friend, “I feel different since Mark’s training.”
And I did. I had found my yield. It was changing my relationship with my son. I could be with him in a way that felt more grounded, more present.
But there was more. The fog of chemo brain had lifted. My body felt lighter and I moved better. There was a new balance between lightness and grounding, between flow and structure.
And perhaps most importantly I felt like I had stepped fully back into myself. Not back to who I was before cancer. But who I am now.
Some Things You Have to Experience
It’s been almost two months since the training, and I can still feel its impact. I still find joy in yield. In the full expression of all these patterns in my body and in my life.
It’s hard to explain this work in a way that fully captures it. Some things aren’t meant to be understood only with the mind. They’re meant to be experienced, felt, lived.
What I do know is this:
This was one of the deepest, most personal experiences I’ve had. I love somatic work, but what Mark brings goes to a level that few people reach. We are incredibly lucky to have him as part of the Natural Lifemanship community. I find myself hoping and praying that this series is offered again.
Because it doesn’t just teach movement. It brings you back to yourself.
Experience It for Yourself
Mark Taylor’s Embodied Developmental Movement training is offered through Natural Lifemanship. If Beth’s reflection stirred something in you, that may be worth paying attention to.
This training is open to anyone drawn to somatic work, whether you are a practitioner, a horse person, or simply someone who wants to come home to their own body.
Your body already knows the way. These trainings help you listen.
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