Butterfly on a Wheel

I've always found this title very evocative - the idea of using massive force to do something that requires minuscule effort.

As I watch myself and others live our lives, the phrase comes back to me more and more insistently. We're using so much effort to do so little! In a converse of the 20/80 rule, 80% of our efforts bring in 20% of the desired end. Why would someone use a clenched fist to hold a tea cup?Or cling to the newspaper as if it were a lifeline?

Time and time again, if I stop whatever I'm doing, and simply ask myself,' Can I do this with less effort?', I find that indeed I can; not just that, but the quality of the action changes radically, becoming easier, smoother, lighter and altogether more pleasurable.

It seems that somewhere deep within us we have internalised the idea that life should not be pleasurable in this simple and satisfying way, that it is actually intended to be a struggle. So when we are able to access this quality, we don't really see it as something we can learn to bring more and more into our lives. We see it as an aberration - an enjoyable, even desirable one, but an aberration nevertheless. By definition, an aberration is something that's not normal - we can't take it for granted.

Which is why, when we experience the lightness and ease in the release of a long held muscle, we tend to tell ourselves,' Oh, that's lovely, but of course it's not going to last. That's not now I really am,' and straightaway go back to the comforting familiarity of tightness.

Tone vs. Tightening

One big Alexander hurdle - how to have your muscles engaged and working well, but not use unnecessary effort and energy in the process.
All my pupils have had this problem, whether they were aware of it or not. I had it too when I started training.
You're standing, being worked on, and the teacher says, ' Ask your neck to release'.
You do, and don't feel any change. But she says, ' Great!' leaving you with the suspicion that she is just being nice, and that you're actually lousy at this.
Part of the problem is that we're not used to paying such close atention to our bodies. So many of the shifts and releases that happen simply slip through our awareness, like little fish that swim through the spaces of a net.
But another aspect of the problem is that we confuse tone with tightening, and think our muscles are tight, when in fact they're only using the appropriate effort required for the action being done. So if we're standing, and we ask our muscles to release, it doesn't mean that all our muscles go completely floppy. That would just make us end up in a heap on the floor.
No, it just means that the extra effort we're putting into that action melts away, leaving us using just the right amount of effort that's needed.
This melting away of the extra effort often goes unnoticed, especially if we're at the beginning stages. That's when we feel that our thoughts have had no effect. Naturally we feel confused when the teacher beams, 'Well done!' at us!
But as time goes by, and our kinaesthetic awareness sharpens, we learn to recognise when release has taken place, whether we're moving or standing still. We experience the pleasure of having our muscles working smoothly and freely, centred and purposefully engaged.
Best of all, we get that extraordinary feeling of effortlessness, the sheer pleasure of the action having done itself.

Beyond Awareness

In this work, we are working with habits built up over a lifetime, and so ingrained, that we identify ourselves totally with them. They are an integral part of our identity - of the way we experience ourselves every instant. As far as we are concerned, they are us. This experience is not intellectual or mental; it goes far deeper than that, and for that reason, is not available to our conscious mind.
The habits I'm talking about are not what we usually think of as habits - whether they be actions (such as drinking tea every morning) or mannerisms ( such as tapping our feet on the floor when we sit).
These are very deep, inner habits of the muscular system and are involved in the simplest actions of daily life - standing, sitting, reaching out for something, speaking, listening.
For instance, as you sit there reading this post, your muscular system is working in a particular way that is uniquely yours, to hold you balanced in your chair. It works in a different way to support you when you reach out for something, when you read or write, when you get out of the chair.
The fact is that in most people, the muscular system works by shortening and tightening, so that too much effort is expended for even the simplest non-action, like just sitting still.
We need to reach down this deep, to a level which we are not otherwise aware of, and cannot otherwise control, to access the working of our self, to allow it to unravel, and to let a different way of working to establish itself.

AT junkie

What fascinates me about the Alexander Technique is - well, there are heaps of things, but what caught my attention immediately when I first came across it, was this thing about not using effort. That really grabbed me, because I'm incorrigibly lazy. All the usual rhetoric about hard work, determination, knowing what you want and going for it, leaves me cold. But I'd reconciled myself to some form of the daily grind, mainly because I didn't know there was an alternative. So the minute I came across something that insisted that you've to put in less, not more effort, I said to myself, ' Hey, that's for me!'
Anything that tells me not to work hard gets my vote everytime!
The other thing about it that I really like - this took me some time, because I had to understand a bit about it first - is the fact that it can be used in anything that you do. It doesn't ask for an hour, or two hours, of your exclusive attention. You can use it in your daily life, your routine chores. You can use it for simple acts like sitting, standing, walking, talking, breathing. But it doesn't prohibit you from doing anything else. So you can continue with your Yoga, or your daily walk or jog, and the probability is that it will make these activities even more pleasureable and effective. And then again, you can also use it in complex activities like playing a game or a musical instrument, in singing, dancing and theatre. Not only does it prevent damage,but it also improves performance in a very subtle and powerful way.
It's the subtlety that's fascinating. Lots of other disciplines give power. But that subtle shift, that transforms life radically, yet leaves you asking,'Did that really happen, or did I imagine it?' - that's what got me hooked.