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Doing without balance, without a functioning primary control, makes it all
more difficult, from being able to concentrate to simply being able to
breathe efficiently. Over time, this unnecessary extra effort can lead to
disabling musculoskeletal problems such as sciatica, tendonitis, and
chronic back pain. Allowing the primary control to spring quietly back, by filtering-out the noise added since childhood, takes time, even with expert help. That, remarkably, Alexander managed it on his own is now being recognized as a breakthrough of enormous importance in our understanding of ourselves. And that he didn't, at first, succeed, was central to what would become his life's work. His mirrors showed him that despite his good intentions, he was unable to prevent that habitual neck-stiffening reaction when he'd begin to recite. To solve this mismatch between what he'd decided not to do, and what he was doing anyway, Alexander had to come up with a brand new kind of self-control. The means he found within himself to achieve this new control he called "non-doing" and "directing." Instead of adding even more "doing," more effort and strain, to try to hold his head in place against habit's tugging, he learned to meet the stimulus of reciting by first doing nothing whatsoever, not even opening his mouth. With his habitual reaction temporarily suspended, he'd remind himself to continue suspending any behavior that interfered with his neck being free, his head rocking forward and up. Again and again, he'd patiently stand in front of his mirrors, bring himself to the point of reciting, and then not recite, but simply repeat his directions. When he could reliably replace an unconscious reaction with a conscious choice, his problem was solved: He never had laryngitis again. His voice, in fact, had gotten so powerful, and his use of it so effortless, that when Alexander returned to the stage he became known as "the breathing man." Soon physicians began sending folks with respiratory ailments to him. The deceptively simple procedures he developed to teach them non-doing and directing are now being practiced around the world. When asked to either stand or sit, students from every walk of life are learning to deliberately pause before starting to move. It's in these moments of neuromuscular non-doing that the directions can effect the progressive release of disruptive tension. The gentle guidance and support of the teacher's hands amplify the directions, and the student gets the often surprising experience of letting go and "falling up" into balance. With practice this consciously chosen lively quiet can then be incorporated into every activity, enhancing every performance, whether from behind a desk or in front of a camera, on a snowboard or on a keyboard, while sinking a putt or singing an aria.  |
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