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..• Page 124
..• A Leap of Faith
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The Alexander Technique
by George I. ListerRecently, a student arrived for his first lesson and told me he had been doing some reading on the Alexander Technique and tried a suggested exercise, which helped him immediately. I, of course, was quite intrigued, so I asked him to describe this exercise and he told me that it was to 'Free your neck, allowing the head to go forward and up and the back to lengthen and widen'. I asked him if he would demonstrate and, after overcoming his embarrassment, he proceeded to push his head as far above his shoulders as he possibly could, severely straining the muscles of his neck. He also pulled his shoulders back, pushed his chest out and then pulled his head back, putting himself into a classic 'military' pose. I was concerned if he went further he might severely injure himself.
Herein lies the problem with learning the Alexander Technique. If we believe there is a better way to use our bodies, if we can be free and easy and have a beautiful, graceful, upright posture, if we can reduce or eliminate pain and discomfort, if we can enhance our endurance by reducing the overall tension with which we accomplish our tasks, why don't we do it? The answer is clear - we don't know or we have forgotten how.
The purpose of the Alexander Technique is to remind us of and to get in touch with the good postural habits and natural reflexes that are a part of each of us - we were born with them. During the course of a lesson the teacher will, through verbal and 'hands on' instruction, help the pupil to experience a feeling of ease and lightness that comes with an improved use of oneself and reminds us of freedom of movement perhaps not experienced since childhood. The student begins to recognize that postural habits, which may have interfered with consistent coordinated physical use, are within our control and the amount of tension used during a particular task is up to us. There is not just one way to go about our activities and with thought, consciousness and awareness, we become open to the many alternatives of physical use. It is with an understanding of these alternatives that clear postural decisions can be made.
Leaving yourself alone
by George I. ListerI am frequently asked "Just what is the Alexander Technique all about and why should I be interested in taking lessons?"
If one is curious about the Technique he or she may study the teachings and writings of Walter Carrington, director of the Constructive Teaching Centre in London and F. M. Alexander's partner. It was during one of Walter's classes a number of years ago that I first heard him use the words - 'Leave yourself alone with the intent of arriving at your proper shape and at your full height'. Of course I was quite familiar with this notion (if not the exact words), as I had enjoyed the experience of countless Alexander lessons and read many books and papers on the subject. But the meaning, the application, the essence of the concept had always been a bit of a muddle. For whatever the reason, Walter's words that particular day rang bright and clear and a new and remarkable pathway abruptly opened.
Learning to leave ourselves alone - precisely what we come to the Alexander Technique to discover. From our very first lessons, we are taught that if we don't interfere, we are perhaps able to realize the best of our physical, mental and emotional resources.
Of course, in order to agree to leave ourselves alone and not hinder our best use, we must be willing to consider the possibility of change. Our habits, our usual reactions to things, are very much a part of us - we've been practicing for a long time. We have come to rely on our habitual way of thinking and conducting our lives without taking much opportunity to consider whether there are useful alternatives. It's here that we might encounter difficulty. Things may have gone along quite well for the most part so what possible reason is there to make the considerable effort to think about change? Perhaps the answer lies in our consideration of ourselves if we ask the question - 'Am I functioning at my best and fulfilling my potential and, if not, how might I get there?'
If one is willing to ask this question, he or she is at the starting gate and ready to get on with the thoughtful process of considering where the winds of change might lead. Alexander called this process 'inhibition' - the decision to not proceed with business as usual. The choice to say 'no' is a difficult one. To abandon our reaction to a particular stimulus such as an order or suggestion, question or demand, to embrace the possibility that saying 'no' is not a fault or a failure, does not respect the normal or familiar pattern for many of us. We are trained and socially expected to respond quickly and certainly; we may feel that we are wrong if we do not. Alexander referred to this as the 'too quick and unthinking reaction'. However, in embarking on the study of the Technique, we are giving ourselves permission to consider our decisions and our methods of dealing with the complexities of our lives. It's risky business as, along the way, we are likely to encounter feelings and understandings not experienced for a very long time. However, with a willingness to experiment and a healthy curiosity, the study of the Alexander Technique becomes a captivating and rewarding experience.
As a teacher and especially as one who trains others to take on the responsibility of teaching, I am firmly committed to 'Leaving ourselves alone' as the foundation of Alexander's work. Without it, without allowing ourselves to touch that wonderful, graceful part of us, nothing else will work well. Armed with the knowledge that with consciousness and motivation we have the ability to do our best, we arrive at the spirit and vigor of the Alexander Technique.
Walter
by George I. ListerMy teacher Walter Carrington died August 7th.
I met Walter during the summer, 2000 when I attended a 'Teachers' Refresher Course' at
the Constructive Teaching Centre in Holland Park, London. I had been warned that he would not be teaching this course as he had done a long year's work, taught the refresher course the week before, was 85 years old and deserved a rest.
He showed up every day.
What a marvelous and unexpected treat. Walter welcomed everyone, taught many private lessons and each day gave a 'turn' to every attendee and teacher on the course. I was captivated as he brought life and energy to Alexander's writings. The atmosphere was one of grace and respect - for the work, for Walter, for the staff teachers and for each other.
The experience of the refresher course gave me a big boost; I came away feeling validated about my teaching, believing I was heading in the right direction. Frequently, seminars or courses leave me a bit skeptical, questioning the value of my time and effort. Not at CTC. Every day was exciting, compelling and full of dignity and good humor.
I have returned often to Lansdowne Road both as a visiting teacher and as a student participating a second time in a refresher course. Every journey has included at least one private lesson and many in-class 'turns' with Walter. Through the years I've gotten to know him a bit and value his kindness and gentleness. Although our separations were sometimes many months, he recalled precisely where we had left off.
Most recently in July of this year, I returned to CTC as the director of my own training course. I had scheduled a lesson with Walter as did my wife Sally (this was to be her first with him), and was disappointed to learn for health reasons he might need to cancel one or both. Fortunately, he pulled through, was teaching as usual and made time available for both of us. Sally's scheduled lesson was Thursday, July 21st, the day of the failed terrorist attacks. She was delayed on the tube and risked being disappointed, missing this long awaited opportunity. When I mentioned to Walter that Sally was late, he assured me not to worry and everyone pulled together to make sure she got her lesson.
When I received the news that Walter had died, I was sad but not shocked. He was 90, had had a bad fall the previous week and the prognosis was not good.
Walter and the people associated with him have meant a great deal to me and to my career since we first met five years ago. His work, his presence will continue to be a part of my life and his talks are required study in the curriculum of my training course. Anyone who has attended the training or refresher courses at Lansdowne Road may think of Walter as he enters the main room at noon, sits in the straight backed wooden chair by the door, and brings us with him as he journeys through Alexander's work. When I read his talks, when we chat about them in my training course class, I am transported to that room. I hear his voice and marvel at the understanding, elegance and humor with which he approaches this work.
On a very personal note for Sally and me - our reflections on our final lessons with Walter will remain a shared powerful and at the same time sad experience. He was only a number of days from death and his work was clear, compelling and inspiring.
I have been most fortunate in my career in the Alexander Technique to have met, worked with, learned from and gotten to know a few of the great teachers and inspirations of my profession. Two are now gone - Troup Matthews and Walter Carrington, and they leave a legacy which will be a challenge to sustain. I will be forever grateful to have known them.
Page 124
by George I. ListerPublished in the spring 2008 edition of the AmSAT News - the quarterly publication of the American Society for the Alexander Technique. Copyrighted - all rights reserved
Not long ago, we had the pleasure of hosting a visitor to our training course who had taken many Alexander lessons and was considering studying to be a teacher. She was visiting courses to begin the process of deciding where she wished to spend the next three years. She was a lovely addition to our course that day, and seemed to enjoy herself. She contributed to the ongoing discussions and made herself available as a willing “student” for the trainees.
When class ended, I spent a bit of time with her to talk about the day. Her first and only comment about her experience was “You only said forward and up a time or two. I like it better when teachers say it a lot.” When I asked what “forward and up” meant to her she replied, “You know, neck free head forward and up” demonstrating by moving her head vigorously from side to side. I had the impression that she added a bit of unintended muscular stress and tension to the directions “neck free, head forward and up.”
It seems clear from Alexander’s writings that he found no amount of excess muscular stress or tension would allow anyone to free the neck or direct the head to go forward and up. These “directions” are states of being that become available when we learn to access them. Perhaps there’s a contemporary issue with the word “direction.” It’s possible we take it a bit literally, something to be followed unconditionally and without much consideration.
John Dewey in an introduction to Alexander’s Constructive Conscious Control of the Individual states that the principle of the Alexander Technique is so badly needed because:
“…in all matters that concern the individual self and the conduct of its life there is a defective and lowered sensory appreciation and judgment, both of ourselves and of our acts, which accompanies our wrongly adjusted psycho-physical mechanisms. It is precisely this perverted consciousness which we bring with us to the reading and comprehension of Mr. Alexander’s pages, and which makes it hard for us to realize his statements as to its existence, causes and effects. We have become so used to it that we take it for granted.” *
The difficulty in studying the Alexander Technique (which Dewey believed everyone should do) is that we tend to bring along our usual thoughts and considerations, judgments and reactions. It seems likely that our training course visitor had certain preconceived notions about head forward and up. Perhaps if she were able to let go of these predetermined ideas, she would be open to experiencing something other than what she expected.
Of course, our visitor is not alone in this experience. It seems that many of us are tightly attached to our habits, and rather than consider the difficult and challenging alternative of letting go, we continue our usual journey, often with the murky understanding that we are not making a very good choice. about how to proceed.Since our habits are customary, how do we give ourselves the opportunity to look at things in a different way? The answer to this question is crucial to the understanding of the Alexander Technique, and it is what I stress in training teachers.
Alexander provides a statement about the process that allows us to reconsider our habits on Page 124 of the Mouritz 1996 edition of Man’s Supreme Inheritance. In the section titled “The Processes of Conscious Guidance and Control,” Alexander describes what he calls the four essential stages “in the performance of any muscular action by conscious guidance and control.” This seems to be a key to Alexander’s thinking. Virtually everything that we do includes muscular action, so it appears Alexander is suggesting that if we follow these steps, we can be in control of all our activities. Perhaps the best way to proceed is to reevaluate Dewey’s observations and not try to do these four steps in our usual way; but rather to give up anxiety, anticipation and muscular effort, and replace with little expectation and lots of curiosity.
Step 1: the conception of the movement required. Alexander acknowledges that our lives are filled with purpose, and he never disavows the importance of intention and goals, without which we would not get far.
Step 2: the inhibition of erroneous preconceived ideas which subconsciously suggest the manner in which the movement or series or movements should be performed. Using the term “inhibition”, Alexander suggests we not proceed in the usual fashion, allowing us the opportunity to detach from our habitual patterns. In the preface to this same book, Alexander states that “the use of the inhibitory processes is the necessary first step in the reconditioning of human behaviour.”** Only through the practice of stopping and reconsidering can we hope to liberate ourselves from our habits. The challenge is enormous. Our lightening quick reflex to stimuli is a valued characteristic of the growth and development of recent civilization, and we are reluctant to apply anything that we fear may slow us down.
In his writings, Alexander indicates that in order to be clear that we are not carrying along unintended ideas, thoughts, and methodology we must stop and take time to reconsider. Frequently, we have the luxury to take a great deal of time before continuing on with our actions; but at other times not quite so much. The inhibitory process of stopping and not proceeding with the normal and familiar action needs to remain in place regardless of the time we have available. Both my personal and teaching experience have shown that we can get so good at inhibiting that we learn to abandon what we don’t really need. Rather than inhibition becoming a time consuming burden, we learn to use it as a tool to help us function more efficiently.
Step 3: The new and conscious mental orders which will set in motion the muscular mechanism essential to the correct performance of the action. Each of us has our unique pattern of thought and action. Alexander seems to suggest that through the process of inhibition we give ourselves time, and with that time we can encourage the thoughts that will allow the neck to be free, the head to go forward and up, the back to lengthen and widen, and the knees to go forward and away from each other. These instructions to ourselves (or directions, orders or wishes) are crucial to the proper functioning of the whole system, and they help us to not rush and not careen thoughtlessly through life’s activities. We must take care that the directions do not become ends in themselves, but rather available states of being which we have given ourselves permission to choose.Step 4: the movements (contractions and expansions) of the muscles which carry out the mental orders. And now after carefully considering the previous steps, we get to decide what to do about our original intention. It’s possible the road to that objective won’t look the same as it did, because once we stop to reconsider, we may find that we have many choices about how to proceed. In the end the Alexander Technique is about taking time to think, and once we do take that time, we find that we have room for choice.
Ultimately, the choice to embrace Alexander’s few steps helps to liberate us from our reliance on our usual and habitual ways of doing things. On our training course, we often acknowledge Alexander’s four-step process to help keep us on a thoughtful and reasonable track. The suggestion, usually simply referred to as “page 124”, serves as a valuable reminder of what is essential to each of us in the study of the Alexander Technique.
© George I. Lister 2008. All rights reserved.
Endnotes
1. Alexander, F.M. Constructive Conscious Control of the Individual. London, Mouritz, 2004, xxv.
2. Alexander, F.M. Man’s Supreme Inheritance. London, Mouritz, 1996, xiii.
Gravity/Anti Gravity
by George I. Lister
From a talk by George I. Lister at The Northern California Center
for the Alexander Technique - March 2007
Newton’s third law of motion states that “For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.” We can demonstrate this quite easily by stepping off a boat onto a dock and observing that as we move in one direction, we need to be very careful as the boat will tend to move in the opposite direction. We have created the action that takes us one way while the same force at the same time sends the boat the other way.This identical force is called gravity and is what allows us and all living creatures (and everything else), to maintain our place on the planet. Gravity will act as the influence which will keep us from drifting away. Whatever we or any other object weighs is the force in one direction and the earth will respond by giving us an equivalent amount of energy in return. In order to take advantage of all this we must be in equilibrium with the forces of nature.
Living beings all come with some amount of movement. We walk, we crawl, we swim we fly and, as in the case of trees and plants, although usually not moving from one place to another, expand and get longer and broader.
In regards to Newton’s theory, this makes the plight of living beings quite tricky as, in order to be in sync with gravitational forces, we must at all times use ourselves perfectly. Of course, most beings living on the earth do just that. They are absolutely suited to their environment and, although they may not always appear so, they are moving in perfect balance with the forces of gravity. Fish and sea mammals move through water, birds and other winged creatures fly through the air, trees and plants grow towards the light sometimes over, under or around other objects. Land creatures move over their terrain in a beautiful ballet of grace and elegance. It is a well synchronized world, moving and flowing in harmony with the natural environment of the earth.
This equation pertains to the human species as well who, unfortunately through the ages, has managed to learn to be unsynchronized with his environment. Rather than acknowledging and using it as an accommodating force of nature, we have come to consider gravity our enemy – something to be struggled with and fought against. The challenge is that no matter what, be it extravagant power and strength techniques, overwhelming propulsion or any of the advances science and technology bring to us, while living on the planet Earth, we cannot escape the force of nature that holds us together and in balance – the force of gravity.
And according to Newton, the rule of gravity says that we will only get back what we put in.
Now imagine that you weigh 150 pounds. If the theory stands, the energy you will receive back from the Earth will exactly match what you weigh so that you will be receiving in return 150 pounds worth of energy which you can use to come to your full height and to propel yourself from one place to another, sometimes at astonishing speed. This presupposes, of course, that all your physiological resources are working to their optimum and you are not wasting energy by interfering with the natural balance of things. If you are not in balance, you will be demanding more of the Earth’s resources than it’s prepared to give. This is when the struggle sets in. The more we labor to find an appropriate upright stance, the more tension we introduce into the system therefore demanding more and more of gravity. Unfortunately, no matter how hard we struggle, we are only entitled to exactly what gravity knows we’re offering and, in this case, it’s 150 pounds.
The answer to how the Alexander Technique might help us in this equation is that by taking advantage of the principles of the Technique we learn to achieve balance. Many of us through the course of our lives have picked up habits that interfere with balance and take away the equilibrium our systems thrive on. We make ourselves feel that the most basic necessities of life – supporting our own weight and moving from place to place, are filled with pain and hardship. Through the study of the Technique, we learn that we can make choices concerning these habits, and that although our usual way of doing things may have been around for a long time, acquired habits are subject to change. When the interference goes away what’s left is exactly what’s supposed to be there, and the system re learns how to use itself in the best and most efficient way possible.
When I began my study of the Alexander Technique and experienced my first lessons about 20 years ago, I felt that my equilibrium had been thrown off and I had lost my sense of balance. It was astonishing that along with this sense of disorientation, I noticed that I didn’t have to hold on to myself to not fall on my nose. This flood of information was too much for the sense of things I had available at that time. As my learning experience developed, I realized that what I had at first thought to be a complete disruption of my balance system was, in fact, re learning and re adjustment of my body’s physiological comprehension. Alexander termed this “debauched kinesthesia” meaning what we feel as balance, uprightness, etc., is not always accurate.
It is the job of an Alexander teacher to help guide students through this period of adjustment. We own our habitual ways of doing things and the challenge of change includes being clear that new kinesthetic experiences are not necessarily wrong, just unusual. By embracing the principles of the Technique, we give ourselves the opportunity to experiment, learning more and more about ourselves along the way. It is through this learning process that the benefits of the study of the Alexander Technique are to be fulfilled.
A Leap of Faith
by George I. Lister
Published in the winter 2007 edition of the AmSAT News - the quarterly publication of the American Society for the Alexander Technique. Copyrighted - all rights reserved.Not long ago, during a lesson I was explaining to a student that according to F. M. Alexander we really don’t have to do much to find the wonderful grace and elegance of the proper use of ourselves. Good use is built into our system so all we have to do is not interfere and the whole thing will work just fine.
My student came to the Alexander Technique because he wanted to better himself. He seemed to be suffering from a familiar state of affairs - he believed that if he wished to make things better, if he wanted to have “good posture”, he needed to try harder. He thought that in order to stand or sit fully upright, he needed to pull things up rather violently, head and shoulders back, chest out, knees and legs locked. The prospect of doing none of this but instead, allowing the body’s natural upright processes to take their own course, was rather daunting and, it seemed impossible to him. His response to my suggestion to not do the things he was doing and see where it all might take him was “That’s a real leap of faith”.
And so it is a leap of faith – but, I believe, one that we have little choice but to pursue. If we wish to reach our full potential in supporting our very basic needs, if we trust that the resources to carry our own weight, to move from place to place and to perform the many varied tasks we ask of ourselves each minute of every day; then we must use ourselves to the best of our abilities and waste little effort.Years ago, during my first Alexander lesson with Troup Matthews, he and I were chatting and sitting on stools in the teaching room in his house on Macdougal Street in New York City. The room had the feeling of age and seasoning and it seemed to move gently with Troup as he walked about. The floorboards creaked with every step. I’d had enough Alexander lessons to know that Troup was going to stand behind or to the side, put his hand on me and by using some gentle magic, float me lightly and easily out of the chair. Troup seemed to know what I expected, and he did nothing of the kind. Instead, he told me to get myself out of the chair. Troup had changed the game plan. He had encouraged me to take the time to think - as a matter of fact, he insisted on it. Eventually, I got myself up. I have no idea how long that took, but, when I finally did rise, the movement had qualities similar to those I had experienced in my previous lessons.
“You’ve only got to wish for it, my boy,” Troup said. Perhaps that is what the Alexander Technique is all about - giving ourselves time to wish for what we want. And if we can get what we wish for, if we do have in us the stuff to make our wishes come true, that really will be a leap of faith.
Marketing the Alexander Technique
by George I. Lister
Published in the winter 2008 edition of the AmSAT News - the quarterly publication of the American Society for the Alexander Technique. Copyrighted - all rights reservedRecently, I completed and returned the marketing survey sponsored by the Marketing and Media Committee of the American Society for the Alexander Technique. The survey is billed as a tool to “help teachers become more efficient in their marketing efforts, thereby eliminating the tendency to reinvent the wheel in an effort to enlarge our practices.” The message also states that this study raises many of the same questions that appeared in a 2006 survey conducted among AmSAT members.
While I am not a fan of surveys, I do recall participating in the previous one and reading the results published in AmSAT News. I responded to this present survey when I received a plea from Donald Kieffer explaining that the deadline had been extended because of the 475 AmSAT members e-mailed the questionnaire, only 24 had replied. I wonder why if the ’06 survey was useful, so few members responded to the 2008 version.
Perhaps the lack of a serious review of what we are bringing to our marketing endeavors raises a thorny issue. The promise of enlarging our practices by making standard marketing efforts seems an end to be gained without the vital means. Maybe reinventing the wheel is precisely what is needed.
The survey reminded me of questions I posed to my sales force when I was working in marketing research: Make enough calls, pound on enough doors, and you’ll probably find people who will be willing to work with you. While some sales folks had modest success doing this, the real winners were the true marketing research professionals who knew, understood, and lived the business. And that seems to be the missing link with the present survey. Are we true professionals living by the principles we all care so much about or are we attempting to use standard marketing techniques just to make a sale?
In marketing research the most successful sales people are those who create repeat business rather than only a single project. In order to do this, sales people must stay involved, shepherd the projects through the shop, and make sure the client looks good to his superiors. In this regard, selling marketing research and marketing the Alexander Technique are not so different. To succeed at selling the Alexander Technique, we must live by the principles. If we’re going to teach and hope to establish a successful practice, we must do good work on ourselves, and help our students to find the best of themselves.
I disagree with much of the present marketing strategy I’ve encountered, and I am concerned that in order to sell the Alexander Technique, we are tempted to compromise. Prior to utilizing all the typical marketing tools, we need to consider whether we are sticking to Alexander’s principles and whether what we are offering is really the Alexander Technique or an end-oriented concession.
I base my concerns on the many questions raised by colleagues and by me regarding what we are telling the world about the Alexander Technique. I accept that it is challenging to describe or define the Alexander Technique and to get the point across without alarming or confusing the listener. Marketing the Technique frequently includes recommending a defined course of lessons. I can only assume that the motivation is to avoid scaring anyone away by revealing that the Alexander Technique is a life-long study. We are reluctant to bring to prospective students’ attention the need to reconsider previous education and perhaps even the way they live their lives. But no less a spokesperson than Walter Carrington said that "you can only introduce a pupil to the new pathway when they absolutely finally abandon trying to follow the old pathway….This isn't a short journey. They may reach that point after one hundred and fifty lessons, something of this sort." *
In the chapter “Education and Re Education” in Constructive Conscious Control of the Individual, ** Alexander made clear how much reassessment of the entire educational process he believed was necessary. I suppose this frightened some people who were not willing to embark on such a journey. However, from his writings, it seems Alexander did not give up on his beliefs in order to “enlarge his practice.” His focus and emphasis were on what he truly believed, and, because he was not willing to compromise his principles, his reputation and his practice grew. If a prospective student was not willing to consider all that was involved in the study of his Technique, Alexander would not take him on.
Through my years of teaching, I believe I have been guilty of many compromises for the sake of growing a practice. During my first teaching year, I accepted a temporary assignment in New York City. I was at the early stage of creating a practice in San Francisco and was averaging about 10 lessons per week. This assignment sometimes required that I teach 10 lessons per day. Fortunately, it didn’t last long, and I can’t imagine what those students took away from their experience. My experience was memorable. By the end of most days I could barely stand. The temptation to take on this teaching assignment was so great that I obliterated my stated intention of gradual growth.
My previous professional experience was in marketing research. Without properly positioning our company, we could not hope to promote our expertise to potential clients. I was exposed to and participated in the half-truths, unfulfilled promises, and compromises that confound and confuse the world of advertising and marketing. It is not surprising that I brought this legacy with me as a tool to sell the Alexander Technique. In retrospect, I think my early group talks about the Technique were hideous. I was as uncomfortable and ill at ease as I had always been during presentations in my previous profession. I suggested that my audiences release tension and anxiety, but was at a loss to get rid of my own. I fooled nobody and no one signed up for lessons.
The most glorious talk on the Alexander Technique I’ve ever witnessed was Carrington’s keynote address at the Oxford Congress in 2004. Walter was not “selling” – he didn’t need to. He was doing what he always did – sharing himself with us. He was kind and gentle, knowledgeable about the Technique and full of excellent ideas and suggestions. His manner was soothing, and although the anticipation of having a lesson with him was highly charged, once the lesson started my anxiety disappeared. In my experience, Walter was the finest “marketer” and most significant inspiration for the Alexander Technique.
Other than dedicating myself to the principles of the Alexander Technique and being willing to share myself and my way of living, I have no magic marketing formula. A few years ago I agreed to give a talk on the Technique at a local YMCA in Palo Alto, California. I was not paid, but I considered this a return to the community that had been so generous to me. I thought I gave myself plenty of time, but did not consider the traffic from nearby Hewlett Packard. I was 20 minutes late, and by the time I arrived, there were only four people in the room. I suppose the 20 or so who had left had no particular investment other than time and had already given enough. My anxiety level was screeching and crescendoing by the minute. Talking to these four people was a nightmare; but I found a bit of composure and began to stumble through my usual dos and don’ts of the Alexander Technique. I realized this was going nowhere and I had nothing to lose, so I stopped, took some time, looked at four blank faces and said, “I’m not getting through to you, am I?”
It felt like the room took a collective sigh. Suddenly, people who moments earlier had been staring stone faced, begin to smile, and everyone (especially me) seemed lighter. The tone of the talk changed from one of lecturer to bored audience, to one of five people discussing choices and possibilities. Two of these people came for lessons for quite some time.
The Alexander Technique is an instrument for life; and in real life, things don’t always go as planned. All we can ask of ourselves is to not get in the way, so that the best of each of us is available to make required decisions. This is not a concept that can be “sold.” It is an idea that only makes sense to others if we are dedicated to living it. Marketing the Technique is available to all of us, and, if we choose to be living examples of Alexander’s principles, many people we encounter will want what we have to offer. It is our responsibility as teachers to speak with a clear and powerful voice.
*Saying and Meaning No – The Act of Living, Mornum Time Press, p 139
** Constructive Conscious Control of the Individual, F. Matthias Alexander, Mouritz August, 2004 edition pp 69 – 82
Swimming without Pain
by George ListerMy first swimming experience was at an age when I had no fear, and the instinct of a 3 year old took over when I fell into the deep end of a pool. I managed to grope and paddle my way around without sinking or causing permanent damage, and my love and fascination with the water came into being. I recall the excitement and joy of spending childhood summers with my family on a New Jersey beach. I couldn’t accept the end of a beach or pool day and had to be dragged out of the water, shivering with my skin puckered, the color of an overripe plum.
When I was 9 I began formal swimming instruction and took quite well to the front crawl. It became my stroke and when I pushed hard I could move through the water very quickly. Soon I had my first experience with competitive swimming and my lessons went from relaxed and enjoyable to strenuous, hard work. There was little joy or playfulness – only stress and the fulfillment of winning races overwhelmed by the disappointment of losing. Swimming became a metaphor of my developing character and work ethic - I could do well if I worked hard and better if I worked harder. How much better was difficult to tell but I believed and was taught that the path to fulfilling my potential was extreme physical labor and emotional determination.
I swam competitively in high school and, although I was reasonably fast, I was frustrated because it seemed I had reached my limit. Coaches pushed and I trained hard. But no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many laps I swam or how much I worked out, lifted weights and did aerobic exercises, I couldn’t consistently move much faster. The stress, both physical and emotional was beginning to show and at 16 I was burning out. And, I hurt. The muscles in my neck and shoulders became tight and knotted throwing my body out of balance. My upper torso ached all the time, and I was beginning to have trouble with my knees. The imbalance was affecting all my activities, and I developed an unusual and awkward gait.
I quit serious swimming about that time and was rarely in the water from that age until when I was 60, my wife gave me a Christmas gift introductory membership to the local YMCA. During the previous year or so I had been considering a return to the pool figuring that with maturity and good sense I would be in a better place to take on the challenge. So, back to the pool I went, and of course, all the bad habits from 40 years earlier came along with me. I swam 12 lengths (300 meters) and thought I was going to die.
Once again I faced a swimming crisis. I love and have no fear but great respect for everything about the water - the feeling of being immersed in it, of moving through it. I’ve lived almost in the Atlantic Ocean on Long Island and now close to the Pacific in San Francisco. I’ve sailed my boat from New York to Maine watching porpoises play and whales breech, and recently experienced a humpback blow in my face about 10 miles off the coast of Mexico. My studio is practically in San Francisco Bay and each day I walk along the docks and seawalls and appreciate the smell, the movement of the tides and currents, the sun sparkling on the bay. I happily plunge into the coldest mountain streams and lakes, and I’m even fascinated watching the sprinklers play in my garden. Everything seemed in harmony with the water – except swimming without stress and pain.
Not long after I returned to regular swimming, I developed a familiar twinge in my right shoulder, and was diagnosed with arthritis. I was determined to explore the possibilities of swimming while utilizing my enhanced sense of myself gained from my study of the Alexander Technique. Instead of plowing ahead in a thoughtless quest for some unreachable goal, I did what practicing the Technique has taught me well – I stopped to give myself room to reconsider my situation and focus on how I was going to proceed. Although the pain was annoying and I was concerned it would get much worse, I decided not to quit. I realized I wasn’t up to swimming 300 meters with any speed, so I moved to a slower lane. I changed my priority from going fast and feeling I had to beat everyone in the pool, to developing an easy, rhythmic pace. In my early lessons, I had been taught that while swimming the front crawl face down, the water must cut across the middle of my forehead. I realized that in order to do so I would have to pull my head back, and if I pulled my head back I would no longer be going in the direction I had intended. In order to make up for going in the wrong direction, I would have to work much harder with my arms and shoulders, putting too much strain on parts that already weren’t working well. I wasn’t clear what I needed to do with all this information, but I was clear that the first thing I needed to not do was tense my neck and pull my head back.
I would like to report that the difference was immediate and perhaps in some unrecognizable way it was. However, it’s taken time and many miles of thought and paying clear attention, to abandon ancient habits and begin to swim with an easy, graceful rhythm. I’m now swimming fast enough, and my endurance increases consistently. I can cover 30 lengths (750 meters) without stopping, and my usual morning’s swim is a relaxed 1500 meters. This feels like a miracle because I’m asthmatic and I’ve been struggling with shortness of breath for much of my adult life. I’ve discovered a coordination that allows me to breathe in regular stress free patterns, and I rarely struggle for breath. Since I started swimming again I’ve lost 30 pounds without dieting or additional changes, and I’ve seen the benefits in other activities as well, particularly strength and endurance in hiking and backpacking. Walking the land and moving through the water – activities in which paying attention to myself, being at ease, and not trying to do too much are not all that different.
My morning’s swim begins about 45 minutes before I get in the water. From the time I wake up, I remind myself to go easy and not be in a hurry. I live about 10 minutes from where I swim so I take the opportunity to include the drive, shower, etc., as a part of the process. Paying attention and not rushing my preparation helps me to be in a good state of mind and not in danger of overstressing and burning out in the first few lengths. This regimen has helped improve my performance and endurance and I have gradually increased my speed without focusing on it. On days when it all comes together, I experience a sense of ease that I had imagined and hoped was possible. I feel no stress but continue to move faster like an expanding force is propelling me through the water. I know better than to try to hold on to this feeling, but rather to understand and appreciate the means that brought me to this place. It is clear that I am being guided by my dedication to the principles of the Alexander Technique .
However, some things never change – I’m still last one out of the pool!
Backpacking
by George ListerPublished in the Winter 2009 edition of AmSAT News, the quarterly publication of the American Society for the Alexander Technique.
September, 2008
At 8500 feet near the base of Pyramid Peak in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of eastern California, September days are beautiful and warm, filled with glorious sun and dazzling blue sky – wonderful backpacking weather. The nights are clear and cold. Jupiter leads the way across the heavens appearing just after sunset, followed by a symphony of twinkling stars.
I’m on a solo expedition with my dog, Max Detweiler. That first night we camp by a lake and wait for the moon to rise over the ridge to the east. A mountain moon has a unique way of announcing itself, first
by a subtle light preceding its entrance, then the eerie moon glow reflecting high off the trees. The light glides slowly down the trees and moves towards us across the open ground. When it reaches my feet, I look up to see this brilliant satellite poke its rim above the ridge. It’s so bright I can see the outline of branches in the trees high on the crest as more and more of the moon shows itself. I’m in a trance watching the heavens reflected in the stillness of the mountain lake.
We stay for three days, and the only people we see are a group of four hikers who show up at our lake, stay for a short time, bid us well in our adventure, and head back to where they cam from. Once they’re gone, I don’t know where the next closest person is.
It wasn’t always like this. For years, I longed to hike in the wilderness, but walking any distance, even carrying no weight, created a knife-like pain beginning in my neck and shoulder that worked its miserable way down my back. Even walking only a mile or so, I risked harsh pain and stiffness that could last of weeks. Carrying a backpack was out of the question, so I limited myself to very short walks and not much exercise.
My worst experience happened 20 some years ago when I foolishly went on an overnight hike with a friend into the woods of western Maine. On the long ride form New York City, the pain and tension crept into my nick and shoulder, so by the time we got to the
trailhead I was a wreck. I hiked some distance anyway, and as night fell we managed to set up a tent. The pain got worse and there was nothing I could do about it. No rubbing, no groaning, no walking around or lying down or hanging upside down from a tree gave me relief. I was awake the whole night, and in t he morning I half dragged myself and was half carried out of the woods. We found a miniature hospital in a tiny Maine town, a doctor injected cortisone into my nick, and all the stars I missed form the previous night showed up in that room. He gave me lots of Valium and a neck brace, told me not to drive, and sent me on my way. The Valium put me to sleep at the dinner table.
The woods and mountains not seemed completely out of reach, and I realized that the physical therapists and chiropractors I had been seeing weren’t going to hear my pain. It was getting worse, and I was so desperate that I gave up my resistance and tried the Alexander Technique.
It would be sweet to report that the cure was immediate and that my dream of sustaining my self in the wilderness was instantly realized. Of course, the study of the Technique is not a quick fix, but requires patience, dedication, and an acquired trust in F. M. Alexander’s principles. Within a few months, after about 20 lessons, I noticed my bouts of pain were becoming less severe and not lasting so long. I gradually began trying activities that had been out of reach. As my studies of the Technique continued, it seemed that I could participate in activities that were more physically demanding. I don’t recall taking lessons so that I could hike or swim, but reintegrating these activities seemed to come as a matter of course.
I had been studying the Alexander Technique for a few years when I left New York City and moved to Killington, Vermont. I was now surrounded by notional forest, so I walked tentatively into the woods near my home. My walks eventually got longer, and hiking form my house to an intersection with the Appalachian Trail (about six miles round trip) became routine. I tired a couple of overnights, but it wasn‘t until I moved to California to begin my Alexander teacher training that the backpacking craze took hold of me.
The Sierra is too good to miss – one of the world’s great mountain ranges is only a few hours from my door. I discovered Desolation Wilderness about 10 years ago and Mokelumne Wilderness shortly after that. The two are fairly close together just west of
South Lake Tahoe, and you can see the high mountains in each wilderness for the other. There are no roads, so if you’re not willing to walk a bit you can’t see all the much. Even so, what you can see for Caples Lake on California Highway 88 or from the rim road in Blackwood Canyon south of Tahoe City is spectacular.
I often backpack with my friend, Craig Huntington, and our dogs. When we get to a trailhead, Craig usually offers to carry more stuff because he says I’m “old and can’t handle that much.” I’m happy to load him down with whatever he wants – hauling close to 40 pounds on my back and walking relentlessly up hill for five miles or so is likely to cause pain not matter how well I use myself. His jibes a re comfortable from our long and close friendship and the many packing and hiking adventures we’ve had together.
My emotions always run high as we hike past the sign designating the wilderness boundary. I know I’ve reached a place not many folks are willing to go, and I don’t know what I’ll meet on the other side. I will share this next period of time with only my companions, the creatures who permanently reside here, and few other travelers.
Recently, Craig and I and our dogs Bear, Rafferty, and Max hiked about four miles to the base of Round Top Mountain in Mokelumne Wilderness and established our camp site on a plateau near Round Top Lake at about 9200 feet. It was warm and beautiful during the day and cold at night. We slept beneath the stars to a brilliant quiet and woke to birds’ wings fluttering. I can’t describe all that happened during those couple of days, except for the sunsets.
Sunsets lasted about three hours. The first hint was a slight chill barely brushing us after the warmth of the day. The temperature dropped fast as the sun floated towards the ridge to the west. By the time it dipped below the horizon, we had gone from wearing shorts and T-shirts to long underwear, down jackets, hats, and gloves. The sky changed from
bright blue and golden sun to shades of red, orange, and rust. As the deeper blue slowly turned to black, the brightest stars and planets winked on as if they had been hiding behind an azure curtain. Behind us, pastel clouds floated away riding a gentle breeze, and Round Top stretched its majestic head to its full 10,380 feet catching the last rays of the sun and enjoying a view we could only imaging. We moved to the most open area of our site, where we had an unobstructed view all around, and stood silently gazing as the earth and sky put on this memorable show.
Why do I go to the mountains? I go where my soul is soothed, and I feel the earth at peace. I go where life begins and ends, where tranquility turns to turbulence and back again in the blink of an eye. I go where love is unconditional, and the animals and I tread lightly through streams and lakes leaving no footprint. I put my fears and cares aside and let this world embrace me.
George Lister with Rafferty and Bear on the trail© George Lister 2009, All rights reserved.
