Photo: Feldenkrais Institute

There's a definite appeal to a workout that begins with choosing a blanket and a headrest, especially when the next requirement is finding a comfortable place to lie down and close my eyes. Having gotten these instructions, I already say an earnest mental "thank you" to my friend Tessa for giving me the hard Feldenkrais sell. Things keep looking up as I walk out of the reception area and into the studio: I find myself standing in the middle of a group of people -- of all shapes and sizes -- who appear to be blissfully sleeping. It's a little Land of the Lotus-eaters, and (given my harried, deadline-filled week) I'm feeling exceedingly on-board with that.

Despite its rarity -- there are only about 1,000 practitioners across the U.S. and Canada -- I've been hearing about Feldenkrais for years, mostly through health writing. Because it takes a pretty well-researched scientific approach to the mind and body relationship (it was developed in the 1940s by a physicist/engineer with an interest in martial arts), it's won some key champions among healthcare experts and professionals, including naturopathic guru Andrew Weil.

The driving idea here is that by paying close attention to our bodies as we perform certain movements over and over, we give our subconscious minds an opportunity to find the smoothest, most comfortable way to do them. Ideally, this can help us have a wider range of motion, become more coordinated and gain more control over how we move and interact with the world. The approach has become exceptionally popular among dancers, actors and even athletes (professionals as disparate as Yo-Yo Ma and basketball star Julius Erving use it to improve their respective performances).

The fact that people who are already so coordinated and good at using their bodies love this stuff is appealing (Tessa, as well, is an accomplished professional dancer). It also makes me wonder if there's a challenge that's yet to come. I think that's why I've waited so long to try Feldenkrais -- as though there must be some secret that makes it really difficult. Even now, drifting precariously close to slumber, I'm tensed up for some kind of "big reveal."

It doesn't happen, at least not with all those bells and whistles. Over the course of an hour, we go through a set of circular arm movements -- just three, done on each side. Tamala, our class leader, walks through and around us, repeating her instructions, occasionally rephrasing her words. We don't have to act in unison; the emphasis is on going at our own pace, and I notice that at no point does she stop and correct anybody.

From a physical and even technical standpoint, I'm not sure how a class gets much easier than this. Part of me is disappointed; historically, mind-body exercises have afforded some kind of (even minimal) effort, followed by an endorphin-fueled "click" moment where I get almost a high from the whole experience.

But that doesn't mean there isn't a payoff. As we worked through the motions, Tamala consistently asked us to compare the two sides of our bodies -- how they rest on the floor, how they feel. I can honestly say I notice a difference. First my right, then my left side, feels elongated and relaxed. And my mood has gone from frazzled to peaceful and even energy-fueled. All this comes into acute focus as Tamala asks us to stand up and slowly walk around the room. My shoulders roll back into what I sense is "good posture," and I find myself really wanting to keep moving my body.

Talking with both Tessa and Tamala afterward, I get some additional backstory: Because the driving force behind the discipline is for us to re-teach our bodies, class leaders are supposed to neither show us how to do an exercise nor correct us if we're doing one wrong. Rather, they'll just keep gently prompting and re-phrasing until we figure it out. For us, this translates into a brain benefit in addition to the body one. By actively engaging our thinking minds to solve these body movement puzzles, we're working that organ as well.

For me, maybe the greatest irony does, indeed, come in that joint mind-body context: I'd gone in tired and overstressed. I'm coming out so alert and energized -- I head straight to the gym.

Pluses: The exercises were easy and relaxing, and the experience felt like meditating with a movement thrown in. By the end, my body felt stretched and energized, my mind calm and clear. I especially liked the no-pressure approach, which seemed to make everyone in the room -- from beginners to people who clearly came often -- feel confident and at ease.

Minuses: Class leaders are the first to admit, Feldenkrais is an investment. There are countless exercise series to work through, targeting numerous parts of the body. Moreover, it's no substitute for cardiovascular work or strength training.

Takeaway: Converts say as little as one class here and there can have an impact. I'd look at this as a good add-on: If you're specifically in the market for something to enhance your physical performance -- or for some mood therapy, definitely give it a try.

Learn More: Feldenkrais Institute, The Feldenkrais Educational Foundation of North America, The International Feldenkrais Foundation.

Up for another relaxing, energizing workout? Try Qigong.