Saturday, March 24, 2012

In the Place of Not Knowing



Most people, after an introductory lesson, say they feel taller, or have an increased sense of lightness and well being. A fair number sign up for more lessons because they want more of that. It seems really unfair then that a couple of lessons on, they begin to feel tired, or feel a soreness in the shoulders or back, or just feel strange in a way that they are unable to put words to.

They are in the place of not knowing.

When your Alexander teacher puts her hand on your neck, she immediately alters your balance. Throughout the lesson, as you follow her instructions, you are challenging and temporarily setting aside deep seated habits of moving and being. Easy enough to set something aside - the problem is, how do you find something else to put in its place?
The result is confusion, a sense that you don't know how to walk, or get up from a chair, or lift your arm.

I've experienced this myself - I spent the early weeks of my training miserably convinced that everyone on the street was laughing at my strange way of walking - and seen it in AT students. When we start chair work, it's quite usual for the person to just sit in the chair when it's time for them to get up, saying,'But I'm not quite sure how to do this!'
There's also an inexplicable sense of strangeness; we're aware that something is different, we're not sure what, and we're not even sure if this difference is good or bad. We can't make out because it feels... well, different!
The best way to deal with this disorientation is to welcome it, to remind ourselves that it's all part of the process, and to take an attitude of,'Well now, isn't that interesting! Let's see what happens next!'
A lot of our discomfort is cultural - we've been conditioned to value confidence and security, even in our classrooms, and of course, these two are the first casualties when real learning happens.
Once we're able to let go of the need to be comfortable and right all the time, we can relax, and enjoy the process that we have set in motion. We stop worrying about when the bad back is going to get better, or when we can work at the computer without getting pain in the wrists.
We forget to worry because the discoveries we're making everyday are so fascinating.

Welcome to the place of not knowing.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Walking Away to Get There



I think I'll go and meet her', said Alice, for though the flowers were interesting enough, she felt that it would be far grander to have a talk with a real Queen.
"You can't possibly do that," said the Rose: "I should advise you to walk the other way."
This sounded nonsense to Alice, so she said nothing, but set off at once towards the Red Queen. To her surprise, she lost sight of her in a moment, and found herself walking in at the front door again.
A little provoked, she drew back, and, after looking everywhere for the Queen (whom she spied out at last, a long way off), she thought she would try the plan, this time, of walking in the opposite direction.
It succeeded beautifully. She had not been walking a minute before she found herself face to face with the Red Queen, and full in sight of the hill she had been so long aiming at.



A lot of the time, when people land up for lessons, they're desperate to get better. They've tried a lot of other things, nothing has worked, and the doctor's just told them,'Improve your posture,', or 'Take lots of rest,', or 'Don't strain yourself'...
All comments that are useless in practical terms.
So by the time they think of Alexander lessons, they have a single point agenda - make the pain go away. Often, they don't even listen too closely to what I'm telling them; at some level, their minds are still busy with the thought, 'Is there something else that I can try that will make me better faster?'
One young woman who was a brilliant IT professional and was terrified at the thought of losing her job told me that what she'd really like was if she could just have surgery and make it all go away.
Fortunately, or unfortunately for her, the doctor she consulted wasn't a big fan of surgery, and had told her to get physiotherapy done. But I could see she wasn't happy about it, and even had the vague suspicion that he was being difficult on purpose.
It's very difficult to convince such people that what they really need to do is to look at the way they do everything - not just working at the computer, or singing, or dancing or whatever. That they way they sit, and stand, and read the news paper, or brush their teeth, is the way they sing, or dance, or play the piano, or work at the computer. Only they do it with much more tension in these specialised activities because those call for a greater degree of skill, and therefore impose a greater degree of stress on them.
In a stressful situation, what do you fall back on to help you? Why, what you're most familiar with, of course!
Only in this case, that's exactly what's causing the problem.
It takes real determination - in a very gentle sort of way - to deliberately step back from the thing that's uppermost on your mind, and look at something apparently totally unrelated. To have the courage, the imagination and the trust to turn around and walk in the opposite direction.
Surprisingly, though, when you're able to do that, sometimes the thing you want seems to come up and meet you.

To get what you want, you sometimes need to stop grabbing for it.













Thursday, March 1, 2012

Everyday Alexander



More and more I'm beginning to appreciate the fact that the way to optimise the use of Alexander Technique skills is to use them in the most ordinary actions in our lives. This is not to say that it has no relevance in specialised fields; it certainly does, and often can make the difference between being able to continue in work, and being forced out of it.
But even for people who are looking for help in specialised fields, the best way to get it is to use it outside of the area of expertise.
That really makes sense - it's the same habits that we use in daily life, that we take into computer work, music, dance, theatre, riding or anything else. Only we would use them a lot more strongly in the area of expertise because the stakes are higher there.
It's also easier to start this way - the old habits are so deeply integrated into our expertise that just thinking of it would be enough to start them functioning. Ordinary acts are not linked in our minds with such high stakes, and so we're better off challenging ourselves there.
Two AT teachers have written about how we can misuse ourselves in the routine actions of our lives ... the ones we do with our minds on other things.
Don't Fight with Carrots - We wouldn't think chopping veggies in the kitchen for a nourishing stew would give us RSI, surely? Yes, it certainly could. The thing is that it gets worse when we take the same habits into working at the computer. Ease up at the kitchen counter, and we'd probably be able to do ease up at the work desk.
The kitchen is 'the perfect place to practice the Alexander Technique', - Alexander Technique in the Kitchen - because it's usually not a very high stimulus environment. However, we still tend to use too much force to wash, cut or grip, or to reach for things. Staying gently aware of the way we're doing our kitchen chores is a perfect Alexander opportunity to release, lengthen and widen.
Integrating these skills into our daily routine gives our Alexander practice a sound base in reality. From there we're then free to expand into the areas of our choice.