The Map Is Not the Territory; Reflections on Bowen, Dissection and Art.

Facescape, 2025

A fortnight ago, I was working with a client and I made a move over her left latissimus dorsi, at the level of her armpit. My intention was to release a line of tension between her shoulder and sacrum and hopefully I helped with that, but what was more fascinating was the client’s observation that her right sinus had completely cleared after that particular adjustment. I am coming up to 16 years studying and practising Bowen and this therapy never ceases to amaze me and keep me curious about all things body. The Bowen ‘moves’ (gentle, cross fibre and punctuated with breaks) are anomalous and by this I mean they deviate somewhat from what is standard, normal or expected in many other hands on therapies. And yet, as a remedial and preventative therapy, it is extremely effective and aligned with much of the recent research into fascia, nervous system repair and regulation, the therapeutic pause and certain discoveries in neuroscience. As well as thousands of testimonials, there are research papers testifying to its efficacy for asthma, hamstring flexibility, TMJ function, frozen shoulder, migraine and much more.

And yet, even with all these ‘certifications’ and ‘character references’ the way in which the changes happen in a Bowen treatment and the pathways that the body takes to enable such changes remain somewhat mysterious and revelatory. I mean, I am yet to see an anatomy book that shows me why an adjustment of a muscle under the arm pit would clear the nasal passages. There are suggestions, suppositions, guesses and theories but no clear diagram that definitively proves the relationship of the left lat to the right sinus or why this clearing happens with one person and not another. What we have instead are the embodied and living experiences of our individual clients (and in the case of my client, someone who can blow their nose again!).

This recent Bowen experience reminds of the saying ‘the map is not the territory”, a  phrase first coined by the Polish American philosopher and engineer Alfred Korzybski (1879-1950). He used it to describe the difference between the actual world and our understanding of it and to demonstrate how our mental (and visual) models of the world (whether they be an anatomy book or a map of Italy), are not the same as the world itself; that they remain an abstraction of reality and do not capture all the intricacies and nuances of life such as the variation in weather or terrain, or the smells, sounds and textures of things. They also omit the complexity of relationship and the richness and wealth of our felt experiences. It’s not that the maps are wrong as such, but rather, we mistake the visual and literal representations and measurements of the world, the body, etc. as fact and not merely part of a system of diagrams that have been edited with particular biases; simplified, categorised and popularised over time, made to suit the status quo, and passed down through our education systems, professional organisations and popular culture.

Last November I attended a hands-on human dissection workshop with Fascia Focussed Anatomy Labs at The Plastinarium, in Guben, Germany and I was reminded, yet again, of the profundity of Korzybski’s words. The workshop was dedicated to exploring the Temporo-Mandibular Joint and the Respiratory System (a particular interest of mine) and was attended by an incredibly knowledgable and skilled group of practitioners that included dentists, anatomists, physiotherapists, lymphatic and vagus nerve specialists, yoga teachers, maternal care practitioners, Bowen therapists, fascialists and chiropractors.  Over the course of a week, our donated form, Albert, gifted us with an opportunity to explore the relationship of jaw and tongue position to posture, the wonders of the sinuses, the relationship of the vagus and phrenic nerve to breathing, and so much more.

Fascia Focussed Anatomy Labs, November 2024Fascia Focussed Anatomy Labs, November 2024

From left to right, Jihan, Roopa, Gus, Kasia, Fiona, me, Gary, Belinda, Andrew, Maria, Ana, Gys, Annelize

We referred to a lot of ‘maps’ over the course of that week; photographs and drawings and diagrams and 3d models and videos of the respiratory system and, with those in mind, we set out to compare what we knew, or thought we knew, with the three-dimensional, human tissue reality that was Albert. Thanks to the immensely talented and dedicated dissectors participating on this workshop, we saw all the breathing structures, supporting tissues and fascial connections first hand and in a radically new way. As the week went on we set our dissections up against the images from the books and, with our deeper understanding and more expansive knowledge, contrasted and compared what we were seeing with the diagrams and photographs and 3d models, recognising and affirming some aspects whilst disputing and re-drawing other parts. By the end of the week we had, as a group, developed new ideas and created alternate maps of the breathing body and were describing them using different words or the same words but in new ways.

In most circles and a large part of the world we call this progress; the movement to ever more accurate and detailed diagrams, maps, statistics and models which we take on board to be the markers of truth. And if a surgeon was about to operate on my heart I REALLY want them to be familiar with those latest ‘maps’. However, according to Korzybski, the problem with this approach is that the maps or models are not reality, and they keep going out of date which, in turn, leaves us with either an insatiable appetite for all there is yet to know or in an anxiety inducing position where we are always playing ‘catch up’ with the latest information and research.

To give you a visual idea of what I mean by this I have attached a few images that demonstrate different ‘maps’ of the respiratory system. I've noted some of the benefits and limitations of each diagram and how they may impact on our understanding our own bodies and what happens when we breathe.

Leonardo da Vinci c.1508. Early images of the respiratory system prioritise the lungs over any of the other breathing structures. The trajectory of breath and its relationship with other structures are absent.

For many this would be a very familiar image of the respiratory system with all the connecting structures clearly labelled. The different colours differentiate one section from another giving a segmented view of the body.

Here the respiratory system is seen in relationship with the circulation system. We have a better idea here perhaps of how our breath affects our whole body.

I took these 2 photos of the sinus cavities at The Plastinarium. I use these wonderful images to demonstrate the brilliant design and function of the sinuses and as a way of illustrating the importance of nasal breathing. It also helps me explain the importance of good tongue position for breathing and palate development and how mouth breathing can detrimentally affect our respiration, nervous system and much more.

Here we have a photograph of a lung space juxtaposed with a tree, alluding to the connection between our own interior physiology and forms within nature

As well as collectively re-drawing our anatomy maps we each had our own personal experiences with Albert, moments when our responses to what we were seeing were not defined by the map, when we let go of what we thought to be true, and immersed ourselves in that space where there isn’t a diagram to refer to. This is what Korzybski is referring to when he uses the word 'territory'; those precious moments of real presence and intimacy, when time stops and space is limitless. For me it happened when I held the silky smooth cartilaginous spirals of the sinus cavities, uncurled them with my thumb and then let them close in around my fingers, and when I teased apart, like a gardener, the brittle bronchioles within Albert’s tar stained lungs. It occurred when I draped the diaphragm across my forearms and when I cradled the pituitary gland in the centre of my palm. Most of all it happened when I drew, when my focus was entirely on following the lines and shapes and contours of Albert with my eyes and pencil, regardless of whether my drawing ‘looked’ like the jaw, the lungs, the rib cage or the vagus nerve. Under my gaze, Albert, whose lungs were in a terrible condition and suggested a severely compromised respiration system, did not look like any anatomy pictures I had ever seen but rather reminded me of an Australian landscape, earthy, fired and airy with a charred ,driftwood quality, both angular and rhythmic. As I drew him I was flooded with memories of childhood holidays camping by the sea, barefoot, sunburnt and salty.

Laura van Tatenhove, Albert, pencil on paper, 15 x 30 cm, 2024

Now I am no stranger to the anxieties related to not knowing enough, being out of date with my knowledge (the latest version of the map) and comparing myself with others but this is all the more reason why I hold on tight to my hands-on Bowen work and creating art. Whilst the diagrams and models serve a very valuable purpose, (especially if you are a surgeon!) my therapy and visual arts practises provide me with a qualitatively different way of understanding and appreciating the human body, one which is more about what I don’t know and am yet to discover.