Do you ever feel lost in your own life? In spite of the privilege, the accomplishments, the satisfaction in certain key relationships, people often tell me that they feel disoriented or confused about how they got to where they are or how to move forward, and what steps they should take to do so. Although specific situations sometimes prompt this feeling, it has less to do with external circumstances and is typically more about how one relates to those circumstances.
Generosity is a wonderful thing to keep in mind, because it instantly transforms the attitude and energy of any given situation. Although we typically think of financial giving when we hear this word, there are many ways to be generous. One of the most powerful ways is to give full attention to something or someone.
People who come for Alexander lessons anticipate that their balance will improve, and that's almost always a predictable result. Yet most people are surprised to learn that balance is dynamic, not static. One doesn't maintain balance by holding on, but by letting go. Or, to be more precise, by letting flow.
If you study and practice the Alexander Technique, it will change your life for the better.
This is a statement I can make with complete confidence and zero doubt. I can say this to absolutely everyone, no matter their condition or circumstances. There is no one who can't benefit from the principles and the process created by F. M. Alexander and developed over the past century by those who have followed his path.
That’s quite a claim. Read on.
Are you sitting right now? Chances are good that you are, and if so, let me ask you something: Did you choose the way you are sitting, the arrangement of all the body parts? For most of us, the answer is no. Sitting is so common, and we have been doing it for so long, that we really pay almost no attention to it until something hurts, or until someone asks us to notice. (Did you change your position when you read the question about choice just now? Bet you did.)
I sometimes wonder about the description of the Alexander Technique as "a skill set that can be applied in every situation" — how might that sound to someone unfamiliar with the work? It's a pretty big claim. Every situation? Really?
Yes, really, because Alexander work teaches a way of being, in the same way that practicing meditation creates new ways to be in relationship with reality.
Most people practice sitting meditation, either in the classic crossed-leg lotus position, or in a chair. A majority of meditators complain about pain or discomfort while sitting in meditation, at least after more than 20 or 30 minutes, and/or over a long period of practice, such as on retreat. While the practice encourages the acceptance of discomfort as it arises, and there are mindful ways to respond to pain during meditation, it makes sense to establish a balanced, easy pose in the first place. What does Alexander Technique offer in support of this?
Whenever I notice my jaw clenching, I let it go. It's a simple solution that works every time. There's nothing subtle or complex about it. Releasing the jaw is easy to do, when you know what it is you want to release. Here are some facts that are important to understand if you want to ease your jaw tension
Someone recently asked me what is the most frequent instruction I give my Alexander students. "That's easy," I replied. "I ask them to pause, and then notice." True as this is, my friend was not satisfied. She really wanted to know what physical habits of posture or use I see most often, and what I teach my students to address these issues. This is not as easy to answer, because everyone is different. But like any AT teacher, I typically see a lot of locked knees, shallow breathing, head/spine misalignment, tight jaws, and generally overworked muscles accompanied by low-level anxiety.
One common misunderstanding I've seen in nearly everybody involves the heels. I'm grateful that my own teacher emphasized heel structure over and over again, because most of us think of our heels as being under the ankle joint. While it is true that the heel is below the ankle, it's crucial to understand that it is also behind the joint. The calcaneus bone (the one that gives the heel its distinctive shape) functions like the kickstand on a bike: it extends at an angle down and out away from the ankle joint. Alignment and balance depend on this, and it is essential for free movement of the ankle joint, which in turn makes the knees less rigid and the hips open up more powerfully (everything's connected).
Heels provide stability in standing as well as walking, and certainly make it possible to "release up," as AT encourages us to allow. Sensing into center (the middle of the pelvic bowl), I feel my sitz bones drop toward my heels. Feeling the connection to the earth through my heels, I can let go and sense how the back of my head is supported all the way from the ground up.
Why so many students with a misuse of their heels? Shoes are a likely culprit. Most shoes have heels, even low ones. Heels were added to shoes because people used to ride horses, and shoe heels kept feet in the stirrups. There's not a good reason for them today, except that we have become accustomed to the shape they make when we wear them: they push up the back of the pelvis, emphasizing the buttocks, and they tend to make calves more shapely. This has become the fashion. Heels, especially high heels, do damage over time, forcing the knees to lock, the weight to press into the balls and toes of the feet, over-arching the lower back, and throwing everything out of alignment, including the head and neck.
That's why I rarely wear high heels anymore, and I advise my students to avoid them whenever possible. Yes, it's fun to wear kicks that elevate, especially if you're short like I am. There's a brief experience of sexy power that I've been conditioned to appreciate, but the discomfort always wins out, and the lack of balance and extra work that high heels force on my body is just not worth it. The only time I enjoy seeing spike heels on anyone is when they are worn in solidarity, like these Toronto gentlemen did:Another reason folks seem not to access the support of their heels is that we are all leaning forward a lot, even when we're slouching and pulling down. This is a kind of "leaning in" that should be avoided, as it is an indicator of what F. M. Alexander called end-gaining. In a hurry to "get 'er done," we forge ahead without thinking, unaware of the strain as we push and pull into whatever's next. We literally get ahead of ourselves.
Next time you're in line somewhere, or standing around bored at a party or your kid's T-ball game, pause and notice (see what I did there?):
- Are you accessing the support of your heels beneath you?
- Is the weight evenly distributed across the soles of your feet?
- Is it possible to let go in the arch of your lower back and let your tailbone hang?
- Can you feel a connection up to the back of your head?
If this makes sense and helps, or especially if it doesn't, consider taking some Alexander lessons. You might enjoy getting to know those little kickstands behind and below your ankles.
I set an intention of posting a mindful movement tip each day during December, but I neglected to post one yesterday, Day 10. So on Day 11, here's a two-fer: 10 things to become aware of, plus one. Sitting up or lying back (however you are reading this), rearrange the furniture of your bones, so that you are in balance. If you're sitting, align your weight on the sitz bones at the base of your pelvis. If you're reclining back, align your hips and shoulders as the four corners of your torso. Allow your spinal curves to lengthen up, from the tailbone to the crown of your head. Let whatever is supporting your weight to be a base for sending thoughts of lengthening and widening through your whole body. Notice where you are contracting, and let go. Open to however you are right now in this moment.
Bring your attention to your toes. Without a lot of wiggling or movement, just notice the toes on each foot. Sense into each big toe, become aware of the baby toes, include all the middle toes in your consciousness. You may feel tingling, pulsing, warmth or coolness, numbness, or no sensation. Are there some toes that seem impossible to connect with? That is not unusual.
Can you sense the connection of the toes into the bones of the whole foot? Do your toes feel different on the tops than they do on the bottoms? Can you expand the space around and between your toes, just by directing some thought there? Get curious about all 10 toes.
Now bring that curiosity to your fingers. Again, without moving them around, sense into all 10 fingers. Are they curled into a fist? Extended outward in an open arrangement? Are your palms down or up? Notice how bringing awareness into your fingers is similar to or different from the awareness you have of your toes.
Expand your attention to include both feet and both hands. Move your mind's eye from the fingertips and tips of the toes up into the hands and the feet. Notice how the pinky fingers relate to the baby toes, how the thumbs connect to the big toes. Can you sense the energy in the soles of the feet and the palms of the hands?
So for most of us, that was actually 20 things to become aware of. Here's the plus one: with full awareness of toes and fingers, feet and hands, include your breathing in the experience of this moment. As you inhale, picture the breath coming in through the toes and the fingers, moving into the feet and hands, up the legs and arms, and into your core. As you exhale, reverse the movement of the breath's energy, back out through legs and arms, feet and hands, out the toes and fingers.
Congratulations. You have just entered the digital age.
Now that Way Opens Center is on Twitter, Facebook, and Linked In, I am learning how best to take advantage of these social media venues. It's a little daunting, but the Alexander Technique shows me how to learn something new by slowing down, observing, and experimenting. When there is something I don't understand, if I remember to notice the tension that arises around "not knowing," I can release it before it begins to cloud my brain with panic-based messages about how stupid I am. I feel this tension in my neck and behind my eyes; other people get upset stomachs or jaw pain or sharp headaches. I observe myself striving to understand a new way of doing something, using different controls, and in the striving, I tighten. So I let go of trying at the same time I let go of the tension in my neck. I have had plenty of opportunity to practice this lately with my new android phone. I had my old cell phone for nearly five years, and the same SIM card since 2000 (the guy at the cell phone store could not believe it). My muscle memory with that phone was awesome--I could access information and make calls (even play games) without having to think about what buttons to push. With the new phone I am very, very slowly getting the hang of it. At first I had to pay 100% attention to even answer an incoming call or place an outgoing one. It is a challenge to edit my contacts, all of which got lost in the transfer of my ancient SIM card. (oops!, said Phone Store Guy.) I downloaded my gmail contact info, but all the phone numbers are gone and need to be restored. I still don't know half of what this phone can do; I only know what I need it to do, and even that not so much. I realize that some people reading this might be internally rolling their eyes and thinking that this middle-aged person is a techno doofus. They'd be right. To be fair, however, I think everyone gets anxious when they have to learn something new, even if it is something they are excited about learning.
Bodymind experiment: Think of something new you had to figure out recently. Choose a physical activity, not an intellectual concept. It could be how to use a mechanical device, or it could be learning travel directions to a new location, like a friend's house or a doctor's office. How about an activity like assembling furniture from IKEA? That can be an adventure. Maybe you've been given some new physical therapy exercises to do, or you've taken up yoga or tai chi or running. There are many everyday examples of needing to learn something complex in a short amount of time.
Take a moment now and think back on your experience of trying to understand something new. How did that feel emotionally? What thoughts went through your mind while you practiced this new task? See yourself in this experience clearly, picture it in detail. Begin to notice your physical response in this moment as you remember the experience of trying to learn something new. What do you observe? Is your brow furrowed? Are you holding your breath? Grinding your teeth? Locking your knees? Clenching your abdomen? Where do you feel the most effort in your body?
How do you talk to yourself as you try to learn the new movement activity? If you're like me, you probably hear comments such as, "I'm a total idiot" or "this phone (computer, traffic, bookcase) sucks!" Feelings of frustration can be internalized ("I'm stupid") or externalized ("this phone is stupid"), and often a combination of both. My mind lies to me at times like this; I have thoughts like "I hate learning new things" (not true) or "I will never figure this out" (almost never true) or "you're so old" (not quite true, and irrelevant). Guess what? Tense thoughts create tense bodies. Tense bodies don't function well, making one feel clutzy and inept, leading to more physical tension, and on it goes into the viscious downward spiral.
When we can notice this happening, we have a choice. Whether unclenching muscle or mind, the most important thing is to stop. Slow down. Step back, take a look around. Take a breath.
So it's important to let go of striving, especially when taking in new information, or learning an old skill in a new way. Of course it's helpful to have a goal in mind (being able to answer my incoming calls is useful), but each step along the way is what really matters (first I have to recognize my new ringtone before I can even think about answering a call). Alexander called this "end-gaining" -- the pushy efforting I do to accomplish something that gets me ahead of myself and out of balance with reality. Instead, I can practice "non-doing". Non-doing allows me to function naturally and automatically from moment to moment. It helps me notice and let go of the tension in my neck and the pressure in my eyes, and release the need to gain any particular end. The non-doing way of being simultaneously opens my field of vision and sharpens my mental focus, thus making it possible to understand what I need to learn about the task or object at hand (swipe down the touch screen to get the call. oh.) And my neck and eyes feel better too.