WRITING

Dialogue

This dialogue was conducted with an interested student who had read most
of the available literature on the Technique during the previous couple
of years but who was unable at the time to have any lessons.


First email:

I tried the experiment in your article two years ago but did not pursue
them seriously. I read the article again last week, and started to think
seriously about it. I ventured on the experiments and it was a nice
experience. It gave me the impression that the AT is really something.
It is something that WILL work.

I have difficulty turning the head with my hands (one on the forehead,
the other one behind the ears). The head just seems like a heavy ball
stuck firmly to a pole. Maybe it is due to the muscular tension. I
cannot let the hands guide the movement.

I have a voice problem. I speak with a strained voice and people cannot
hear me. I have no physiological problem with the cords. Just muscular
tension. Speech therapy over 2 years did not help.


First reply:

The BIG thing the Technique does is enable you to become aware of
muscular tension you are employing unconsciously, which then enables you
to stop employing it. There's another article of mine either on Robert
Rickover's site or at www.dodman.org that explains how after my first
lesson I became suddenly aware of what I had been doing for many, many
years with my totally distorted shoulders!

Sometimes, it's quick, like that; other times, it's slow. I'm sure, if
you persevere, you'll benefit hugely; though how long it'll take,
without lessons, I've no idea. What I can be sure of, though, is that if
you give as much dedicated time to working on yourself as you would have
to do during lessons, progress is assured. The temptation is to devote a
few minutes once in a while and then wonder why nothing much has
changed!

Concerning 'head turning'. If you have a gentle friend who can assist
you could enlist them to turn your head (this cannot be done too
carefully) as I think I suggest in the article. If not, it doesn't
really matter, since the important thing is for you to "think of
allowing your head to be free to be turned" rather than actually turning
it. What I mean by this is that you "pretend" someone - whether you,
your friend, a mythical Alexander teacher - is reaching their hands out
to take your head and they ask you to "allow" them to turn it. You
"allow" them, to the best of your ability, without assisting in any way.
If no one else is present and you're not using your own hands, your head
need not - in fact, should not - move one iota.

However, an internal change will have been made, even if you can't feel
it. Your head will be less firmly cemented to your spine!

You do the same in pretending to allow someone to tilt your head
forwards and backwards from the point in between your ears. Again, no
actual movement is necessary; but the thought is crucial. Without the
'new thought', nothing will be any different to usual.

The more often you can 'do' this - which isn't a 'doing' so much as an
'allowing' - the more likely it is that your head WILL be free to turn,
and would be, if you or someone else tried to turn it.

Maybe you could try this and let me know how you get on?

Or, if what I say doesn't make sense, ask me.

Whatever you experience, it is likely to be subtle.

For what it's worth, I've twice had people come for lessons whose necks
were (it seemed to me) so abnormally stiff I could find no way to help.
One eventually went to an osteopath, with good results. The other, I'm
unsure about. Everyone else I've ever seen was able to recognise and
minimise excessive neck tension fairly easily.

I mention this just in case. The Technique isn't always the answer!
However, you could expect progress to be many times slower since you
don't have the advantage of a teacher. And, it would appear, you have
experienced an element of 'neck stiffening' when sitting or standing.
Those two people I mentioned: their necks were so stiff all the time
there was no increase or decrease in tension, when sitting, standing, or
doing anything else.

One other thing you could try, which isn't strictly Alexander, but which
I think could be useful, is, after you have 'allowed' your head to 'be
free to be turned' by the imaginary set of hands, imagine it IS being
turned by those hands. Again, no movement, please!


Second email:

Thank you for the detailed reply. I am reading it carefully and I'll try
the experiments. I have started to think of the imaginary hands before I
read your message. I am more confident that I am on a good path after
reading you. Let me get back to you with the experience soon.

(later)

It was such a funny adventure. I focused on the thinking whenever the
flow of life was static (sitting there working, on a bus ..) these two
days. I also kept written notes on how I felt. I am suddenly like a
student learning conscientiously in a school, with a note pad constantly
with me!

I had some idea about the point where my head rests on the spine,
although it is still a rough idea. The invisible hands worked very well
on me. I could feel the absence of the stiffness and sensed some freedom
on the joint. There is a feeling of lightness too but too vague to
describe. I successfully turned my head with my index fingers in the
holes of my ears! I heard some "clacks", I believe, from the joint too
(like those clacks you sometimes hear when standing up from squatting).

Imagining the head being turned gave me vertigo, sort of having nothing
to grasp on and I'm going to fall from height. If I try to experience
this further, I'll resort to doing and the muscles on my neck will react
and tense up.

So I all along stick to thinking the head being free and that it can be
turned. Today, I just put my fingers on my ears and that feeling and
experience reappeared in my thinking immediately. It is like, "And all
was calm again". The rough sea has become still again. I felt that life
was so beautiful and I smiled. As for what you wrote about AT not being
always the answer. I agree but I am not looking for any answer to my
problem. It is better than none. I can become more self aware and the
means whereby will give me a lot of insights. The end itself is not
important for me.

I have started to sense the tension in my neck muscles during movements
too. There is stiffness on my neck when I walk, sit and stand up. But no
idea how come it is there, when it creeps in or how to describe it.

Thank you for letting me share my experience with you.


Second reply:

Well, that all seems productive and useful. What you need to do now -
what we all have to do, continually - is more of the same! Believe me,
it's amazing how tensions that were unconscious can become conscious and
how shocking they can seem when they do.

Even more shocking in many ways is how they keep coming, again and
again. Did you locate that article I wrote about my first one or two
lessons? I couldn't have any more lessons for a year; but that didn't
matter, since I had the insight into my condition I needed; but what
astonished me over that next year was how persistent my shoulder tension
was.

So, I went from being completely unaware of it (for many, many years) to
being wholly aware of it, just like that; but then it took an age to
prevent myself from 'doing it' every time I stopped thinking about 'not
doing it'.

It might be worth your while seeking out either a real skeleton or a
book showing the head and top few vertebra. It amazed me to see how the
skull sat on the atlas bone (1st vertebra), and 'nodded' from that
juncture; and how the atlas bone sat on the axis bone (2nd vertebra) and
rotated at that point. Once you 'know' that's the way you are, it's
somehow easier to 'feel' it. I talk about this point being midway
between the ears; but it would probably help you to visualise this if
you had seen it for yourself in some form.

You've read pretty widely concerning the Technique; so you'll know how
important the head/neck relationship is, and how everything else follows
from it. So, all I would suggest you do, is keep paying attention, but
try to do this as subtlety as possible. I wrote a review of a book about
The Alexander Technique once, which was full of pictures showing rather
stiff looking people, and I remember saying something like "The key to
successfully applying the Technique is not to look as though you are"!

Please, any questions, about anything to do with the Technique, at all,
fire away ... I get huge pleasure from thinking someone can benefit
without having to have a hands on lesson.


Third email:

Your article "Before and After" on your experience has given me some
insights in my situation. On reading your story about having stiff
shoulders because of the hair style requirement at school, I remember
being told to speak up when I was small at school (the lady teacher's
voice would still resonance in my ears now, "speak up, little girl.") I
was born a soft speaker obviously. But I did not have problem of having
a strained voice until I was made conscious that I spoke too softly. To
please those people around, I tried hard to do what they taught me, to
breathe "correctly" by pushing out the abdomen and keeping the shoulders
fixed. They said I should breathe with my diaphragm and only the belly
should move, the shoulders should not move and the "support" should be
from the belly.

With your experiment of head turning, I began to realize what I have
been doing to myself over the years, just to speak in such "correct"
way. I overdo my neck muscles to sound louder and I hold my breath
during speech, to keep my belly hard to "support". The speech therapist
often reminded me to breathe in and not to use force to speak. These
have been vague remarks to me until now I realize what I am doing to
myself.

These bad habits sound too overwhelming. While the poise of the head
during the head turning experiment gives me the well being so wonderful,
I just keep losing it whenever I stop thinking about it and when I am
busy with my daily activity. I won't dream about changing the bad
habits. I just want the well being of being poised to stay a little bit
longer!

I must say that this experiment with you is a real key to
self-awareness. And it is a fruitful experience.

I would like to ask this. The "allow my neck to be free, allow my head
to go forward and up, allow my back to lengthen and widen" directions
described in the books, how do they fit in the present experiment? And
"inhibition", does it mean I have to pause before each activity and
simulate poise, and then decide whether I should engage in the activity?

I hope I sound clear enough to you. I'll be glad to clarify. It is
sometimes difficult to say it in English, which is not my mother tongue.


Third reply:

Progress is almost always a case of 'two steps forward, one step back';
and it can seem painfully slow. This is especially the case when you
have recognised some behaviour pattern you no longer want, but find it
tricky to stop.

Remembering my shoulder problem, I hope I made it clear in the article
that although it took a very short time for me to become aware of
something I had been blind to for years, it took me a lot longer than
that to stop doing it!

To turn to your questions. I have a slightly different view of
'inhibition and direction' to the commonly taught one.

Inhibition, as I see it, is the process of becoming aware of something
you don't want to be doing and then stopping doing it. For example, if
you habitually clench your fist, and that clenching becomes
subconscious, you cannot inhibit it. Firstly, it needs to become
conscious. As soon as you become conscious of what you are doing (as
with my shoulders) you can stop doing it, at least to some degree. What
you then commonly find is, as soon as you stop 'inhibiting' (that is,
paying attention to not doing something) the behaviour pattern comes
back. That's what you're experiencing.

All you can do in this case - which is the same for every Alexander
student - is try your utmost to remember to inhibit whenever you can.
Every little helps; and even when it seems as if you're getting nowhere,
progress is almost certainly being made. That progress endures even if
you feel you keep going back to square one.

I liken it to physical growth. When I was younger and I met uncles and
aunts maybe twice a year they always said how much I had grown though I
never felt any different. My growth was so slow it always seemed normal
and unchanging to me. So it is with whatever you inhibit. Believe me!

Concerning the head turning, I like to think that when you 'allow' your
head to be turned, you are inhibiting the habit of 'fixing' it to your
skull. The act of freeing your head is the act of inhibiting fixing it.
Does that make sense?

Now, as for directions, the primary one is allowing the neck to be free
in order for the head to go forward and up. When your head is free to be
rotated or tilted (which is what the head turning, and the imaginary
head turning, exercise is designed to achieve) it IS going forward and
up. In other words, the neck HAS freed. Once the head is going forward
and up, the spine WILL lengthen. So, 'giving directions', in my view,
for these things to happen, is best done by freeing the head in the way
I suggest.

So, when you ask:

"The "allow my neck to be free, allow my head to go forward and up,
allow my back to lengthen and widen" directions described in the books,
how do they fit in the present experiment?"

I would say they are there, but not actively expressed. If you read my
article on directing (on the website, called 'learning to apply the
technique', you will realise I went through many stages. The stage I'm
at now is the result of many blind alleys! However, it may be you would
find it useful to direct in a more formal manner. It's worth
experimenting with.

I sympathise with you saying:

"I just keep losing it whenever I stop thinking about it and when I am
busy with my daily activity."

That's inevitable! Just keep coming back to it, whenever you can. It's a
discipline, like any other. One way of thinking about it is remembering
just how long and hard you worked to set up the poor habits in the first
place. In your case, to do with making your voice louder. That required
hard, conscious work and persistence, which eventually became automatic.
That's what you now have to undo.

When you ask:

"And "inhibition", does it mean I have to pause before each activity and
simulate poise, and then decide whether I should engage in the
activity?"

Well, you can do this. I found - and find - it results in a certain
stiff, mechanical way of behaving; but it's certainly useful in
instilling discipline. The main problem is that in 'real life', you
can't usually decide whether or not to pursue an activity. Waiting to
cross the road, you can't 'inhibit' half way across and decide whether
or not to go on. Cooking a meal, riding a bike, it's the same. But,
certainly, at home, it can help to not automatically do whatever you
first think of, 'simulate poise', as you put it, and then decide whether
or not to do what you planned, something else, or nothing at all.

However, 'remembering' to come back to yourself, whatever you're doing,
is the big problem. I've tried many devices in the past, to trigger my
memory; but it all comes back to self discipline.

I'm not sure if you lie down in semi supine at all? Is this something
you've tried?

Also, have you come across what is known as 'the whispered ah' in your
reading of Alexander literature?


Fourth email:


The act of freeing the head is the act of inhibiting fixing it. This
certainly makes sense to me. The thought of letting the imaginary hands
move my head freely can now bring me into a tranquil state where I am
more in touch with the present moment and the things around me. Just
like what you say in your article "Learning to apply the technique" (I
have read it carefully many times and I am going to read it again. The
ideas are quite abstract to digest.), I have to let myself go through
stages in learning to apply AT in my life. I understand that everyone
pathway may be unique and mine will not necessarily correspond yours.
But I agree with you that it is important to have a clear mindset from
the onset that the technique has to be applied in daily activities
right. And I have to find a way to "keep the directions going" (in your
term, "remember to allow the invisible hands turn my head and not fix my
head" in my case), through experiments and perhaps through many blind
alleys like you.

I have explored and read about AT for 2 years. I know it clearly that I
should not carry out the directions in action. Over two years, I have
tried to give myself those directions in my brain whenever I remember to
do so. The directions (neck free, head up and so on) are in English, and
I have to mentally translate them into my language each time I think of
them. I just can't do it in a momentary manner, just as what you
describe in your article. It results in no particular change in me, even
the subtlest one, except some kind of stiffness on the neck and the
feeling of being a puppet.

Reading your article on head turning and doing your experiment has given
me a taste of the experience of being poised. I am working the other way
round: experience first, not caring about the verbal directions, and as
exactly as you put it, "when my head is free, the neck HAS freed, the
head IS going forward and up, the spine WILL lengthen." This has led me
to a new ground I have never explored.

The key to remind myself to inhibit is exactly this new experience. I
have started to lie down semi supine and do the head turning experiment.
In a very short span of time, I reached a point that I felt my body
"thicken", that my torso occupied more space. I could scan my whole body
and notice the tension on my neck and on my face. I allowed my thoughts
to trace down to how they came about. I found I was sort of telling my
body to do it. As soon as I found that, it disappeared without any
necessity to even stop it. This is just a very short fleeting moment.
When I am in my daily life. When I remember telling myself to allow my
head to be turned, I suddenly remember how I felt during that fleeting
moment. The experience seems to replicate in me and I remember to tell
those thoughts tensing up my neck and face to stop. My body seems to be
re-educating itself. I know that my spine has inclined to the left
(people told me about that after a chest X-ray). I think I can slightly
feel it now, when in that semi supine position.

I have been lying down with my eyes closed. As soon as I open my eyes, I
lose the focus on my body. I'll try to open them more and more. I like
playing with this idea.

As for the whisper AH, all I can see in those books are pictures with
people having their mouth wide open and some descriptions that seem
quite vague to me. Is the Ah audible (how much is "whisper")? How to
allow the jaw to open?

I'll perhaps have the chance to work with an AT teacher visiting my area
later this month. Just one brief session, perhaps. Will certainly share
the experience with you.

This AT experience is great. Things just happen. How good it is not
having to concern about progress.

I also would like to know about Monkey and the Lunge, perhaps at a later
stage.


Fourth reply:

It sounds as though you're making useful progress. I've never been
entirely clear whether the verbal directions work, even slightly! It
seems to me there are two possibilities: one is that the repetition of
the words, while being worked on by a teacher, enables the same words to
produce something similar when away from a teacher; the other is that
the body 'hears' the words and deciphers them on an unconscious level.

Neither of these strikes me as satisfactory. There is the other issue of
whether, when we repeat the words, we ought to be 'thinking' of what
they mean, or what we think they mean. Some teachers suggest we
shouldn't; that the words are not to be interpreted; others that it is
only the meaning behind the words that matters.

It's a very confusing area; and no two teachers have exactly the same
ideas. For me, I've come to the conclusion that the words are the
expression of what, generally, we don't do. Most of us, most of the
time, are tightening our necks, pulling our heads backwards and down,
etc, etc. Before anything else, what we need to do is stop tightening
those necks. Strictly speaking, that is inhibition; but we can only stop
doing something to the extent that we are aware of doing it in the first
place.

So, let's say we are aware of 1% of the unnecessary tightening we are
doing; and whenever we remember, we stop that 1%. What about the other
99%?

That, for me, is where direction comes into play. I think it's largely
futile to repeat words (but, having said that, I highly recommend
getting hold of a booklet by Joe Armstrong on the subject, who believes
just the opposite) and that what is needed is something more like
desire.

The 'desire' for the remaining 99% of the neck (or part of it) you are
unaware of tightening to be free is really just a continuation of
stopping tightening the initial 1% you are aware of. The two sort of
meld into one. In practical terms, whatever you do to undo the
tightening you are aware of, you simply carry that a tiny bit further
...

That 'tiny bit' is hopefully encapsulated by the 'allowing your head to
be turned' process. Each time you go through this, you increase the
likelihood of the 1%/99% ratio becoming, say, 2%/98%.

I think you might find the Whispered Ah, or a variant of it, very
useful. The Lunge and Monkey are really just devices for ensuring all
the joints of the body are used optimally. If you have any experience of
Tai Chi, there are lots of similarities.

The Whispered Ah can seem quite complicated, and in my opinion, takes
emphasis away from the central issue, which is what we do with our
breathing in everyday life. For the moment, maybe I could suggest a
short procedure I found useful?

I'm not sure what your personal circumstances are, whether you live
alone, have children, or whatever. The ideal would be if you had tiny
children you could read aloud to but who wouldn't mind if you read very
slowly, with a changed emphasis!

To do this, you need to chose a piece of writing and to read it out
aloud. It's crucial that you be prepared to read much more slowly than
you would normally do.

Take your time. Get comfortable. Firstly, avoid the initial desire to
take a breath before beginning reading. Simply start when you like. Read
at half or a quarter your normal speed; use normal tone and intonation,
so that what you are reading makes sense; but don't structure your
breath to suit the reading. What I mean by this is, as soon as whatever
air in your lungs begins to run out, don't take a rapid inbreath and
continue reading! Instead, stop reading and allow - ALLOW - fresh air to
fill you up. This influx of air should take several seconds, which it is
useful to count mentally. As soon as your lungs are full again, you can
restart your reading from where you left off. Continue reading out loud
until your breath begins to run out again; again, stop reading and allow
your lungs to fill.

Carry on with this for as long as you like. Treat full stops and commas
and new paragraphs with decent sized pauses. Generally, when we read out
loud, we do a lot of straining and gasping to get the sentences to fit.
We're also usually in a tremendous hurry. Both of these tendencies
should be avoided.

The way the lungs work is extremely interesting; but what's truly
important to know is that almost zero effort is required to breathe in.
In this exercise, you make an effort to speak, and as you speak you
necessarily breathe out; as soon as you stop making that effort, as soon
as you stop squeezing the lungs in order to expel the air that creates
the spoken word, atmospheric pressure will ensure that fresh air floods
back in.

In other words, breathing in requires no effort at all, so long as you
don't get in its way, which of course most of us do!

Maybe you could let me know how this exercise goes?


Fifth email:

I've had my first lesson! The teacher was visiting and had time for just
one lesson. I am now saving up money for a residential course for one or
two weeks in the future, perhaps in two years' time.

I have experienced the "poise". It was the same as what I achieved in
the "head turning", but much easier. The teacher pointed out to me that
my whole pursuit in trying to attack the problem with my voice by
applying AT is by itself an end-gaining process and suggested that I
gave up the desire of speaking well. The teacher also found that my eyes
focused too much on things. When I was asked to stop staring at things
and ALLOW things to flow into my eyes, and just ALLOW things in life
come to me, I felt relaxed and released of the burden that I had been
carrying over the years without knowing it. The teacher said I started
breathing and my head returned to where it is supposed to be on the
spine. I did not feel that. I only felt relaxed and relieved. It was
amazing to be poised without even having started the hands-on work. This
indirect procedure sets me on a new outlook on life. Life can be so
easy. It is like picking up a box full of milk, with much preconceived
effort, only to find that it was empty and one has used too much effort.
This experience is beneficial in the sense that I can always tell myself
to stop end-gaining in life and allow myself to return to such poised
state simply by letting things come to me. I think I can achieve much by
myself with this new attitude to approach life. This is the right track
for me.

The teacher then ended the discussion and started working with me
standing. I was then started off walking. I liked to walk that way and I
would not want to stop. I know that this kind of work needs the help of
a teacher. And it is no use trying to recapture the experience now.
Re-educating the body will take time and I am prepared to it.

Returning to our thread of discussion, I would now replace the "allowing
my head to be turned" process with the "let things flow into my eyes"
procedure and carry on with it. The feeling I get from the latter is the
same: I am more at the present, relaxed but alert, and breathing becomes
easier and automatic. But it is much easier.

Thank you for suggesting the breathing procedure. It helped me realise
that one do not have to gasp for air and hold it, and one can actually
survive with so little air. When the head is poised, breathing is subtle
and automatic, I can't even feel it going on. But to be poised and speak
at the same time is difficult for me. I can only do it semi supine. (I
read something that I have learnt by heart. No one was present).

The "voice" is something that I do not dare to go too near. I always try
very hard to do it as I am too anxious about it. It is difficult not to
become end-gaining with it in my case. The more I want to do about the
voice, the more interference I'll make on the breathing. At a certain
point, I had to stuff my ears with cotton balls so that I wound not hear
the end product, and I could concentrate more on the refill of the lungs
when the speech stopped. This worked better. And I could keep the
playful attitude towards myself and withhold the judgment that is
sometimes too harsh on myself.

Looking forward to hearing from you.


Fifth reply:

It may sound like heresy from an Alexander teacher but I am firmly of
the opinion that if we are fully present, taking in what is out there
through our eyes, as well as our other senses, we will be every bit as
balanced as any amount of inhibiting and directing could bring about.
Alexander work helps us become more present, because we can't inhibit or
direct other than now; so we're forced back into the moment in order to
apply this work; but what I've come to realise over the years is that
the process operates in reverse. By this, I mean that, as soon as we
come into the present, with the intention of inhibiting and directing,
there's actually little need to do either, since they will happen
automatically, by virtue of our being present.

Being present is far from easy, however! For me, what defines it is how
we're thinking. Chiefly, I differentiate between 'thinking of' things,
and 'thinking about' them.

For example, if you 'think of' your kitchen, the state of the world, or
a two week residential Alexander event, they exist in your mind as
realities. You don't need to consider them, though you can, if you like.
They simply exist, and you're familiar with them, or the idea of them.
You could even 'think of' something you're unfamiliar with, such as my
kitchen, without knowing anything about it.

Something like this can and is done by us and by all sentient beings (I
believe) constantly, while we stay very much anchored in the present
moment. However, as soon as we start to 'think about' any of these
things, we immediately take ourselves away from the present moment, into
an imaginary - usually past or future - state.

'Thinking about' is vital to human development (it enables us to build
bridges and organise our days) but it is also (I believe) the root cause
of poor use, because it takes us away from the present, and in
particular, our sense of ourselves. I would guess that when we are born,
we do no 'thinking about', during childhood, we learn it in detail, and
as adults, we can do little else. I would estimate that whenever we are
not directly involved in something so exciting or meaningful that it
swallows us up, we will be 'thinking about' something other than what is
going on. I reckon most of us spend the vast majority of our waking
lives 'thinking about' things. We 'think of' them, too; but usually,
'thinking of' something leads pretty swiftly to 'thinking about' it.

The 'sense of ourselves' I mentioned is what will have provided us with
accurate feedback as to when and where we were going wrong in the past.
Because we will have been absent ('thinking about' things) from a fairly
early age, we will have failed to heed that sense. As we grew older,
this failure to heed would have become more and more commonplace, until
we become where most of us are today, barely in touch with ourselves at
all. Really, it's amazing we function as well as we do!

I was on a walk yesterday, 'thinking about' this (!) and I tried - once
again - to work out how to describe the process involved in preventing
such thinking from occurring. I used to believe it happened via the
eyes. There's definitely a correlation between the way we see and the
way we think; also the way we breath; and obviously, our use generally;
but I've come to the conclusion that all this - sight, breath, use - is
determined by the way we are thinking rather than the other way around;
that there are only two ways for us to think; and that one way leads to
freedom of sight, breath, use, etc, while the other way causes
restrictions in all three.

It does work the other way around, though. By deliberately looking at
the world in a particular way (I call it 'Seeing in 3D', and I've
written about it elsewhere) we are not only brought into the present,
but use and breathing both alter. In order to 'see in 3D', we can't be
'thinking about' anything. As soon as we start 'thinking about', the
seeing - and breathing, etc - is lost.

Similarly, if we 'allow ourselves to breath' in a certain way, this
seems to produce changes in the way we see, and our use generally.
Again, it doesn't allow for the possibility of 'thinking about' things.
However, both 'seeing in 3D' and 'breathing in a certain way' suggest we
are already seeing and breathing in a not useful way because of
something we are currently doing.

For me, that 'something' is our thinking, which is what determines the
way we are. By changing use (whether how we look at things, how we
breathe, or how we hold our heads) although the way we think may alter,
because we haven't addressed the thinking pattern directly, it is likely
to return, and this can be disappointing. Of course, changing the
thinking pattern directly doesn't mean it stays forever changed; the old
pattern quickly returns, too; but it is the cause of poor use rather
than the effect. In other words, it seems more sensible to address the
cause than the effect.

An analogy might be a hosepipe with water gushing out of the end.
Squeezing the hose will stop the water flowing; switching the water off
at the tap will do the same. The truth is, we can't satisfactorily
'switch the water off'. The sort of 'tap' humans have is one that as
soon as the intention to switch it off lapses, it automatically switches
itself on again. However, to me it makes more sense to 'switch the water
off', even if only for a few moments, and alleviate the water pressure,
than squeeze the hose, which has the same effect of stopping the water
flow, but requires more effort.

Anyway, all this was simply to say that whatever method you use to
become more present, it is as well to remember that you don't become
present by 'doing something' so much as by 'stopping doing something you
are already doing'. For you, let's say you stop staring, and you find
yourself more present. I would like you to try to see if, when you stop
staring (by 'allowing things to flow into your eyes') you don't also
stop 'thinking about' things. And that when you find yourself starting
staring again (in other words, you forget to 'allow things to flow into
your eyes'), you haven't at the same time started 'thinking about' other
matters.

Actually, maybe the first step would be for you to try and recognise for
yourself how you do think in your life. Are you able to appreciate the
difference between 'thinking about' and 'thinking of'?

This may seem a bit 'off course'; and, naturally, it may not interest
you as much as more orthodox Alexander work. Something you said made me
write all that! Now, back to business>


The breathing/speaking procedure is designed to increase awareness of
what we are doing with our breathing whenever we speak. It's worth
carrying any insights you gain into the world. For example, when asking
for fruit or vegetables at a grocer, how rushed are the words? Is there
a gasp for air because a sentence isn't finished? At work, or in social
situations, are you able to retain a sense of yourself while speaking.
Are you rushing the inbreath to get a sentence completed?

Maybe this is for the future, though. As you say, if you don't want to
examine the voice too closely, maybe it would be useful for you to do
this:

While in semi supine, or any other time, too, try the following:

1. Allow your lower jaw to hang open. This may give you a faintly
'village idiot' feeling! It doesn't matter how far the jaw hangs. As you
let it hang, 'think of' it moving away from your neck region.

2. Allow your tongue to sit with its tip nestling against your lower
teeth.

3. Allow whatever air is in your lungs to be expelled while you make a
'whispered ah' sound. This is a very much quietened version of the sound
you may have occasionally had to make at the doctor, when he or she
examined your throat.

4. As the sound finishes and there is no more breath to expel (there's
no need to wring your lungs dry), close your mouth, stop whatever effort
you had been employing to cause your ribcage to contract, and allow the
ribcage to expand again as you allow air to flow into your lungs through
your nose.

5. As your lungs inflate, allow your trunk to widen. Once the inflation
is complete, begin the process again with (1).

Two key points: Avoid 'taking a breath' in order to start the process.
Begin it with whatever air you have in your lungs, even if the first
'ah' lasts a nanosecond And allow (1), (2) and the beginning of (3) to
happen all together, so the process flows.

Personally, I find it useful to place the backs of my hands on either
side of my ribs, to remind me just how much they can move.


If you're in a public place, and you want to do this, the same procedure
can be followed, but:

1. 'Think of' the lower jaw releasing and dropping, without actually
letting it do so.

2. 'Think of' the 'ah' sound, without articulating it and breath out
through your nose rather than your mouth.


Concerning your experiences of the 'allowing my head to be turned"
process and the "let things flow into my eyes" procedure and how you
find the results much the same but the latter easier.

It's crucial that it is easy, so you're probably on the right track
there. I strongly suspect that both these procedure have the ultimate
effect of stopping you 'thinking about' something completely separate
from what was going on! The best way to do any of these processes
(whether 'letting things flow into your eyes', allowing your 'head to go
forward and up', or whatever) is to think 'of' rather than 'about' them.
For example, if I was to ask you to 'think of' a pineapple, and to 'hold
that thought in your mind' for the next fifteen seconds, while you go
about your ordinary business, you should find it fairly easy, unless
you're doing something else that requires all your attention. Certainly,
you don't need to 'think about' the pineapple in even the slightest
detail.

I'm not sure how useful what I've just said will be. Although it's easy
to stop 'thinking about' things for a few seconds at a time, the demand
is huge - in me, and most people I've known - to start the process up
again. It's largely what determines us as humans, but it's also our
curse.

Something I've wondered is: are you able to squat, comfortably, with
your heels remaining on the ground? If you are, can you do this, while
keeping one hand on the back of your neck, to feel what happens there?
If you're not able to squat, how about if you try it while holding onto
something like a set of door handles - the door open, and you holding
one handle in each hand? As you squat down, simply pay attention to what
restricts you from going further.


Sixth email:

The lesson has given me a new experience. But before reading from you I
had been wondering how to get on from there. I then really got a lot of
insights from your message.

What you have written describes exactly what was going on in me. It is
easy to allow things to flow into my eyes, and be at the present, but it
is as easy to return to my original state soon afterwards. I realized
that even before reading you. In fact, the new experience has unveiled
from the most inner thoughts of me, many episodes of the experience in
the past, even from the earliest years of childhood. Like a movie, the
scenarios replayed themselves and I realized how all those end-gaining
attitudes developed in me over the years. I had been modifying my
general approach to life and the use of my body (most unconsciously) to
"adapt' to life, to live up to people's expectation, and more
importantly, to my own expectations of being a perfectionist (life
should be so and so, I should be so and so). All these have wrapped
themselves up in fleeting end-gaining desires before every action and
every reaction to a stimulus, while myself having no knowledge or
feeling of it. Is this "think about" in your sense? I have read your
message over and over again to make sure that I get what you mean. I
think I am exactly as "barely in touch" with myself as you described.
(Before reading you I could only vaguely describe these thoughts.) I had
been wondering how to stop these end-gaining thoughts before reading
you. After reading you, I think I can say, I am thinking about without
even thinking of it (without even knowing that I am thinking about)! And
I agree very much "you don't become present by 'doing something' so much
as by 'stopping doing something you are already doing'".

I like your approach to differentiate "think of" and "think about". They
are simple, short and direct. I do not need to translate them mentally
when I come to examine how I think in my life. I think I understand the
words you wrote literally. But I am not sure whether I can really
appreciate the difference between them. Let's see if I understand them
correctly by applying them to my case of using the AT as an end-gaining
pursuit to solve my voice problem. Each time I try to fix the voice with
AT work (directions, inhibitions, stop staring, let things flow into my
eyes, imagine head being turned), I can't resist the temptation of
trying to see how it works, how different I feel, whether this AT stuff
works, whether the end-product (the voice quality) will be different, or
am I doing it correctly (checking from the mirrors). All these are
"think about", right? As for "think of", should I be just letting go of
those thoughts, keeping the desire to be at the present and the desire
to allow things to come to me, and forget about the voice?

You asked whether I stop thinking about things when I stop staring. Yes.
There is calm and lightness too. I can just let things go by themselves.
No need to use so much energy. "And when you find yourself starting
staring again, you haven't at the same time started 'thinking about'
other matters." This is as well true.

I really agree that the thinking pattern is the root of poor use rather
than the effect. It also sounds very logical that we should address the
cause than the effect. But other than the options 1) addressing the
cause only; and 2) addressing the effect only, will there be an option
3) addressing the effect and then addressing the cause? I hope you
understand what I am trying to say. I mean a mixture of both one after
the other. The "let things flow into my eyes" (addressing the effect)
easily brings me back to the present. Can I then switch to giving up the
"think about" thoughts and allow myself to "think of" instead? By this
stage, the initial desire of "let things flow into my eyes" will become
a vague desire if I can think of its existence only without going to the
slightest detail or checking its effect on me.

Also, where I an read the 'seeing in 3D"? Now back to business>

I'll keep doing the procedure of whisper ah and squatting. Some
questions and some insights for this stage:


Whisper Ah:

Ok, avoid taking a breath to start the process is easy. Yet after the
lungs are refilled, have to allow the jaw to open and the tongue tip to
touch the lower teeth, during this lapse of time, should I continue
breathing in, or start breathing out and then aspirate the ah after the
jaw and the tongue are ready? Or should I have the jaw and tongue ready
at the same time while allowing air to go into my lungs?

I know that I have to avoid taking a breath to start the first ah. Yet
as the process goes, do I have to wait until the air has come in before
articulating the ah? Do I always have to wait until all air is expelled
when breathing out and the lungs are full when breathing in during the
process? Or can I just articulate the ah at any moment I wish and stop
to let air come in at any moment I wish, without concerning about the
"remaining stock" of air in my lungs?

The first insight in this process is that the jaw is bigger than I ever
know. I tried to feel for it in order to release it. The sideburns are
so long and go up to the earlobe! I always thought it was only along my
lower teeth like a horseshoe!

People have been teaching me how to speak. They all said I have to
support the voice with air when I speak, and that I have to let the
belly go out to breathe in. I then breathe out hard when I speak in
order to physically sense the outflow of air, just to make sure that it
is there. I push the belly out by overdoing the muscles, without such
effort I cannot physically sense that I am breathing in and I will have
a feeling that I'll die for short of breath. What's worse is that I
never know about this. During the whisper ah procedure, my hands on the
rib cage tell me that I am breathing out as soon as I speak (as soon as
there is voice), but I cannot feel that. I feel that I am breathing out
only at a later stage, when I force that voice with the muscles in order
to sound longer and louder (a subconscious habit). Same case for
breathing in. As soon as I stop the voice, my hands feel the expansion
of the rib cage, but I do not sense it. I sense it only later when I
start holding my breath (another subconscious habit).

I even try to think of letting the breathing go all by itself without
thinking of the details, and just speak and stop, and just feel the rib
cage with my hands. First, I had a feeling that I am dying without air
and no breathing was going on in me. Soon I felt I was floating and
relieved, sort of like having removed a heavy armour unnecessary for
life. When I really speak to people, I have started to be able to feel
that things went wrong. It was mostly the breathing. I push in my belly
to speak, and push out my belly to breathe in and prepare for the next
sentence. All the time holding the breath, not allowing air to go out or
go in.

I'll continue with this. I can approach my voice comfortably with it.


As for the squat:

I can squat all the way down to the heels. I just feel a pull back
action midway down and another pull back action midway up with my hands
on the back of my neck. The head was pulled backward and it seemed to
bounce back each time before I reached down or up.

Enough for now. Enjoy reading from you.

Thanks a lot too.


Sixth reply:

Good to hear from you.

Firstly, the 3D writing. Unfortunately, all the pieces I've written
about my experience 'seeing in 3D' were to AlexTech. Recently, I had a
hard disk failure, and a portion of my records, including emails sent
and received, were lost. So I have no trace of some of these pieces. I
believe AlexTech archives exist somewhere; but I've never located them!

What I could find was this. It followed on from a discussion about the
Bates method. I said:

"I know nothing about the merits or otherwise of Bates work; but I do
recall a single day of Bates instruction we had on our training course.
The visiting teacher went through all the exercises - palming, etc -
which I found a bit of a yawn; but then he started talking about seeing
in 3D. I initially thought, well, of course we see in 3D; but he had us
all stand at the window (which was in a house on a hill) and look out
over the South Downs; and as he explained what he meant I suddenly, and
for the first time for many, many years, saw depth in what I was looking
at.

It was an awesome moment; and perhaps the most awesome fact of all was
that I could switch it on or off at will. The knack was rather like the
knack of seeing those magic eye pictures, only far easier. What it did
require, however, was an effort of will to choose to do it. Now, this
possibility is open to us every moment of every day; and while I can't
speak for anyone else, I can confidently say I spend most of my time
looking at the world in anything but 3D.

It has been my experience that seeing the world in 3D alters the way I
think and act. I suspect perception may affect conception as profoundly
as conception does use. Anyway, it's food for thought."

Someone replied to this asking for more details:

"I am curious how the Bates practitioner taught or explained "how" to
see in 3-D. I have heard many ways to do it, but would like to know
what worked for your class."

My reply was:

"It's a long time since this happened; but as I remember there was no
formal teaching of anything so much as a reminder to do what we all knew
how to do anyway.

As I said, it was like learning to see magic eye pictures. That took me
some time; but when I 'got it', I was able to do it again and again.
Seeing in 3D - or what I mean by seeing in 3D, which is really no more
than fully appreciating depth - seems to me to be a similar matter of
focus. Sitting here in my living room, there's an assortment of chairs,
plants, rugs, and doors to other areas of the house, all of which can
either be viewed in 'flat screen' mode, which is what I usually do, or
3D mode.

I find it's a matter of choice; and to chose 3D seems to involve a
recognition of depth that is connected in some way with changing focus.

I find I can switch it on as easily as a tap; but it's like the dead
man's train brake lever: it works while it's on, but as soon as I forget
to keep it on, it reverts to off. Off is definitely my default mode."

Dos this make sense to you?


Concerning thinking 'of' and 'about'. You ask:

"Let's see if I understand them correctly by applying them to my case of
using the AT as an end-gaining pursuit to solve my voice problem. Each
time I try to fix the voice with AT work (directions, inhibitions, stop
staring, let things flow into my eyes, imagine head being turned), I
can't resist the temptation of trying to see how it works, how different
I feel, whether this AT stuff works, whether the end-product (the voice
quality) will be different, or am I doing it correctly (checking from
the mirrors). All these are "think about", right? As for "think of",
should I be just letting go of those thoughts, keeping the desire to be
at the present and the desire to allow things to come to me, and forget
about the voice?"

Yes, I believe you've grasped the essence of this. In the context you've
chosen, what you need to do is exactly what you describe in your last
sentence. It's not a question of stopping thinking altogether, since you
have to have the thought 'of' engaging in a process to do it at all.
Where it potentially falls apart is when you start thinking 'about' the
means or the consequences of what you are doing.

Of course, during any initial learning process, thinking 'about' the way
you do things is necessary. As, for example, with the whispered ah.
However, once the actual structure is clear, the less you think 'about'
it, the better. Naturally, continuing to think 'of' what you are doing
is essential in order to keep doing it.

You add:

"... other than the options 1) addressing the cause only; and 2)
addressing the effect only, will there be an option 3) addressing the
effect and then addressing the cause?"

Yes; and I think that would especially be the case with anyone who's had
a bit of Alexander experience, because they would naturally be more
aware of effects. But there's also option (4); which is addressing the
cause and then, maybe, the effect.

The reason I suggest this is that I met and talked to another Alexander
teacher recently who I hadn't seen for a long time. I was mentioning my
ideas about thinking being the cause of poor use and he said he knew a
lot of people involved in meditation, Buddhism, Guerjieff work, etc, all
of whom were dedicated to 'being in the moment', and many of the
apparently most successful had appalling use!

His implication was that merely stopping 'thinking about' (which is what
ideally happens during meditation, attention to now, etc) doesn't
necessarily result in good use.

My response was that maybe these people weren't as successful at
stopping 'thinking about' as they believed; but also, that poor use is
the end result of many, many years of dedicated hard work on our part,
and that it would be unreasonable to expect it to undo all at once. In
many ways, we create these muscular shells to live in, and even if we
stop doing whatever created the structure of the shell, it's habitual
and convenient to remain within their confines.

For those that have meditated for many, many years and claim to be more
'in the moment' than not, yet still have aches and pains and wretched
use ... it may be that they are paying more attention to what they see,
hear, smell, touch, etc, than what they sense; and that they're simply
unaware of living in a muscular shell that was created by past thought
patterns. Many meditation techniques emphasise sensing the body
internally, but not so much how it manifests itself externally.

Maybe having the additional awareness of what constitutes good or bad
use that comes through Alexander work means that, once a person has
addressed the cause, they can then consider whatever effects (which will
probably be habitual effects, by which I mean the effects of past
causes) are present that they might like to address.

For myself, I tend to oscillate between all four options. Thinking about
them, I suppose they all turn into each other, eventually.


Concerning your questions about the whispered ah:

"... after the lungs are refilled, have to allow the jaw to open and the
tongue tip to touch the lower teeth, during this lapse of time, should I
continue breathing in, or start breathing out and then aspirate the ah
after the jaw and the tongue are ready? Or should I have the jaw and
tongue ready at the same time while allowing air to go into my lungs?"

What seems to happen after some familiarity with the process is that at
the point where the lungs are full, there is a momentary lull. It's like
the moment on a bike when you reach the top of an incline, stop
pedalling, and wait for gravity to take you down the other side. Or you
hit a tennis ball in the air and it stops for a moment before dropping
back down. During this lull, there should be enough time for the lower
jaw to drop open and the tongue to find its place; but if this coincides
with the beginning of the air coming out again, that's okay.

I wouldn't start getting the jaw and tongue ready while you're still
drawing air in through your nose. Better late than early.

You also ask:

"I know that I have to avoid taking a breath to start the first ah. Yet
as the process goes, do I have to wait until the air has come in before
articulating the ah? Do I always have to wait until all air is expelled
when breathing out and the lungs are full when breathing in during the
process? Or can I just articulate the ah at any moment I wish and stop
to let air come in at any moment I wish, without concerning about the
"remaining stock" of air in my lungs?"

Mmm. There are no hard and fast rules; but I think the procedure is one
that should be adhered to in (ie, it's better to allow full inspiration
and full expiration) artificial, practice circumstances; however, during
'real life', especially when speech is involved, it might be different.
However, from what you say, there's a lot of 'history' in the way you
speak and breathe! I would strongly suggest keeping the whispered ah
long and full.

You mention belly breathing. I would pay a lot of attention to how your
ribs move, especially the ribs around your back. Using your hands - or,
if that's awkward, taking a scarf and holding it around your trunk,
gently tightening it as you breath out and then allowing your expanding
ribcage to gently 'force' the noose open when you breath in - to sense
how much movement does take place in your back. It's even worth placing
the palms of your hands on your front (one around the belly area, the
other on your chest) as you proceed with whispered ahs, just to sense
how much movement there is, and how much is necessary. The answer is not
very much! Feel free to experiment with deliberately not allowing your
belly to inflate as you breathe in, and see if air flows elsewhere.
Alexanderwise, breathing is largely a back activity.

The more you practice, the more you will sense what is happening, even
if at first you need your hands or the scarf to verify matters. So it's
worth persevering.


Concerning the squat. You say:

"I just feel a pull back action midway down and another pull back action
midway up with my hands on the back of my neck. The head was pulled
backward and it seemed to bounce back each time before I reached down or
up."

Squatting is a fascinating action. As a child, everyone first learns to
stand out of a squat. For ages, we do little but squat and stand and
hover in between. Then, adults start putting chairs in our way! That's
how we learn to 'sit'.

It strikes me that the 'pull back' you mention is occurring at the point
at which you would ordinarily arrive at, or leave, the chair seat. Is
that correct?

I often suggest to students that they put themselves in front of a chair
or stool, and then pretend that chair or stool is not there. I suggest
they then decide to squat. It's important they genuinely squat as if
they had no knowledge the chair was beneath them. Hopefully, so long as
they do this fairly slowly, they should find the chair arresting their
progress. I ask them to watch out for breath holding or head retraction
around that time.

Similarly, in rising from a chair, I suggest people allow themselves to
fold forwards at the hips to a point that feels to them like they are
half way up to standing from a deep squat. Then, again watching for
breath holding or head retraction, carry on 'out of the squat' and
stand.

Maybe you could try this? It's worth remembering that every time we sit
(and we sit countless times each day) all we're really doing is a
variant of a truncated squat. However, because we usually know the
presence and height of the chair or bench we're about to sit on, we tend
to 'fall' the last few inches. Each time we 'fall' we go out of balance
and tighten up instinctively. We do this so much we're no longer aware
of it.

This means, if the chair we were about to sit in was whisked away
unknown to us at the last minute, we would fall over. Yet, when we
learned to sit as children, falling over while going from standing to
squatting was most unlikely. So, something we have learned to do since
we were children takes us out of balance which causes us to tighten up.

When standing, we tend to leave the chair well before we are over our
centre of balance. You can test this by slowing the movement down and
taking yourself to the point just before you would ordinarily stand up.
What effort is required? I suspect you feel some 'thrust' (normally
supplied by the rapidity of the movement) is required. The more you come
over your centre of balance, the less thrust is necessary.

My view is that when we sit or stand we are usually several steps ahead
of ourselves, busily thinking of the next thing to do. We rely one
hundred percent on our bodies to look after us. Why don't our bodies
'squat' as they used to? The answer seems to be 'impatience' and
'practicality'. It takes more time to sit or stand in a balanced
fashion. Also, in 'real' life, when we sit or stand we like to keep our
eyes focussed, or at least aware of, whoever we're with, or whatever
place we're in. To do this, it helps not to have to bend too far forward
from the hips. This prevents true balance, which puts pressure on our
musculature. This tends to pull our heads backwards, which also assists
us in keeping our eyes on where we are.

This is especially true with other people around. The simple answer to
most of this is, if we can't squat traditionally, because of
circumstances, to introduce the 'adult squat'. This simply means being
inventive with the feet. By moving one foot backwards in space, well
under or to the side of the chair, a person's centre of balance changes
dramatically and there is much less need to lean forwards from the hips.


I hope this provides food for thought. I enjoy responding to your posts,
because they force me to reconsider what it is I believe; though of
course, you must remember, I am not a font of knowledge!

All the best.


Seventh email:

Thanks for the reply.

I've had a lesson with another teacher, also a visitor to my area. While
the last teacher focused largely on my thinking patterns, this one
performed mostly bodywork with me. The teacher said that I had very
round shoulders which are tensed up and pointing to the front,
constricting my breathing by limiting the space for my rib cage to move.
The lesson began by my being asked to sit down and stand up by myself.
Then the teacher asked me to allow them to move my head upward, put back
my shoulders and help me get up from the chair. The adjustments made
were not subtle I would say, as I felt that the teacher was pushing my
head up by pulling it and pulling my arms off. It was totally different
from the other teacher's work. The second teacher kept asking me how I
felt after each movement, but I really could not say that I felt
anything. I just felt the pushing and that I stood up and sat down with
some slighter ease, sort of my body was doing it all by itself, without
my telling it how to do so.

The teacher also worked with me semi supine. It was different from my
own semi supine. My head was really supported by the books. When I do it
by myself, I always felt the little pointed bump behind my head on the
books and it was not comfortable. With the teacher, my head seemed to
have become flat and was lying squarely and steadily on the books. Same
sort of bodywork. The teacher told me to soften my shoulders and then
pushed them down. The teacher pulled my head up and I felt my whole
spine pulled up with the head, down from the pelvis.

I do not mean to criticize this teacher. But I would say that this type
of work requires long practice and many lessons for a student to be able
to get on his own, not to mention putting it into practice in real life.
If I am saying it correctly, AT work is not only bodywork, it is work on
the whole self, mind and body together. I do not have the money to take
so many lessons and most of all, I do not want to become a puppet who
would have to worry about where to put my head and shoulders in every
movement. I also want to address the thinking patterns that are integral
in the movement itself.

But I would not say I got nothing from this lesson. The teacher asked me
to pause and think of the directions (when he started reciting those
words "soften the neck, head up, spine lengthening, shoulders wide,
knees .." ). I noticed that I started moving immediately without being
conscious of it. I like this idea of pausing and observing how I react.
Pausing is a new experience to me. Besides, the teacher said that our
body is designed for movement and sitting is in the middle of a squat
(like the "truncated squat" you describe), and that the ribcage is
hanging on the spine. These are enlightening remarks. The teacher also
said the effects of lessons are accumulative. At least this is
encouraging.

So this is the lesson. You said in "Before and After" that you only had
a lesson before having the next after one year. I wonder whether you
felt the same way as I do now. I cannot find another teacher. I've
tasted how wonderful it was when the body functioned in a co-coordinated
way, but sadly, only with the help of a teacher. I know I cannot make
the good thing happen again without a teacher, shall I just wrap up this
packet and put it away, and wait for the time when I can have lessons
again? This is frustrating.

Returning to our thread of discussion, I have a clearer idea about the
breathing thanks to your explanations. I like your description of the
lull after breathing in (the bicycle and the ball). I sensed it too. It
is amazing that when you allow that lull to pass, things slow down and
you do not have to force things on. They just happen. Breathing out just
follows naturally.

I tried putting a scarf around the trunk and kept sensing with my hands
when I did the whispered ah. Although I still need the scarf and the
hands to feel the movement of the ribs, I have started to sense that
breathing actually requires less effort than I usually use. I
deliberately tell myself to stop feeling the breathing, sort of to feel
I am not breathing, but actually I am breathing because the scarf and my
hands tell me that my ribs are moving. The movements are little; they
are so subtle that I cannot feel it myself except with the hands and the
scarf. I started to feel such subtle movement today without the hands
and the scarf, but just a little bit, and the lightness and calmness
that go with it. It is amazing to notice that I do not need the usual
effort. This is just a vague feeing. But it is a good beginning to
rediscover how breathing is supposed to be naturally without
intervention.

As to where the air goes, I tried not to move the belly deliberately.
The scarf is tightening on my back just around the shoulder level. It is
a funny experience. I seem to have an air bag below my back. When it is
full, I feel like being a hunchback!

Now, about squatting.

You ask:

It strikes me that the 'pull back' you mention is occurring at the point
at which you would ordinarily arrive at, or leave, the chair seat. Is
that correct?

My answer is yes. When I carried out your experiment of sitting down, it
is difficult not to think of the presence of the chair. The body seems
to be expecting the existence of such and is preparing itself
automatically by holding the breath and tightening up generally (I just
felt a general tightening around my shoulder and neck and head
retraction without knowing precisely how it was) when it reached the
seat level. Similar for standing, when I reached the moment of "getting
up" from the squat, I needed the thrust to stand up. Again holding the
breath and general tightening. I also tried coming over the centre of
balance more than I usually do, less thrust was necessary and I felt my
ankles and calf supporting more of my body weight.

I agree to your analysis on how we were taken out of balance by chairs.
A child can be well poised and balanced staying in the middle of a squat
and will not fall without a chair. But if we adult want to stay in the
position of being in the middle of a squat, we need to make an effort to
hold ourselves in such position by tightening the muscles, in order not
to fall down. But in fact, it is this tightening that takes us out of
balance. I tried to do without the tightening while staying in the
middle of a squat (like when one wants to avoid sitting on a dirty
toilet seat when urinating), I nearly lost balance and fell down! What a
pity that chairs have become something that we cannot do without.

I'll go on with the whispered ah procedure and the sitting and standing.
Worth exploring more.


Just two questions,

The adult squat, is it meant to be something to get round the problem of
not being able to squat traditionally in front of people, i.e., a
solution to maintain balance while we can't squat?

The 3 D is interesting. How does seeing in 3 D affect our use?

I enjoy reading your posts too. It is inspiring. Looking forward to
reading from you again.


Seventh reply:

When I was a trainee teacher it was impressed upon me that the most
important thing for me to do was 'give' each student the 'experience' of
what you call "the body functioning in a co-coordinated way".

The point behind this was twofold. One, to give people a taste of the
way they could function that was so attractive to them they wanted more,
and would therefore return for lessons, particularly if they had no idea
how the experience had come about, which is usually the case. Two, to
link up the repetition of those experiences with the student giving
'directions', in the hope and expectation that by 'giving directions'
outside of lessons similar experiences might be enjoyed.

I disagreed with this approach then; and I still disagree with it now.
For me, it helps create, first and foremost, unrealistic expectations on
the part of the student; and, secondly, dependency on the teacher.

I was far, far more interested in enabling a student to learn something
- just one little thing at a time - that would allow them to stop doing
something in their lives that would result in better use. They might not
even recognise the change, it would be so slight; but it would be their
own achievement, which they could replicate at will.

Replication is so important. It's all very well having hundreds of
lessons, 'feeling great' and being 'put right'; but if you haven't the
sort of money or time or inclination that requires you to be at the
mercy of a teacher's hands for ever and a day, it won't get you far.
Even if you do have the money time and inclination, it's still something
of a dead end, in my opinion.

I would say, as a rule of thumb, the best Alexander lesson you could
have is the one that leaves you most easily able to replicate - later,
when alone - whatever you experienced during it. The more you need your
teacher present in order to do that, the less successful that lesson
was.

So, in many ways, your 'taste' of freedom is an unfortunate one! Since
you've had it, I would emphasise ALL it means is, for as long as it
lasted, you were not doing a number of things you habitually do. As and
when you stop doing those things as a matter of course, the 'taste' will
become normal. In a way, it's 'cheating' to have had the experience of
stopping doing so much all at once. You simply can't do it, without
outside help.

For the record, I didn't feel disappointed after having just one lesson
and then not having another for a year. The disappointment was when I
started lessons 'properly', and found after thirty or so that I was not
only no further forward, but that I had in many ways taken several steps
back!

The great thing about the first lesson was that it opened my eyes to
something I had been doing for years without realising it. It took me a
good year to stop; it was a massive habit. My reason for having more
lessons and then going on to train to be a teacher was because I wanted
to find more things I was doing that were equally counter productive. I
did, but only after much searching; and most of the discoveries I made
were made despite rather then because of my teachers.

I guess I'm unusual in that my experiences during and immediately after
lessons have not been that wonderful. I've felt lightness and ease and
generally better many times; but I've never felt fantastic; and I've
ALWAYS been left with a nagging sense that whatever I experienced was
done to, or for, me, and that try as I might I would not be able to
achieve anything remotely similar myself.

ALL we can do, alone, is inhibit and direct. We can learn how to direct
pretty quickly, but directing alone won't get us very far. Inhibition is
the true key; and I would say - though other teachers might not - that
it is impossible to inhibit something you are not aware of. You can
pause, which is a sort of preparatory inhibition, but as soon as you go
back into action, all the old misuses will flood back unless you
consciously stop them. By repeatedly consciously stopping something, it
will eventually stop happening automatically.

All the little things you've noticed about yourself over the time you've
devoted to Alexander work - whether during or after lessons, from
something I've said or suggested, books you've read, thoughts you've had
- will contribute to changing your felt sense of what you're doing. The
sharper this becomes, the further you'll get. It's as simple as that. If
you put what you've got in a box now, waiting to have a course of
lessons, it would be a real waste.

So when you say:

"I've tasted how wonderful it was when the body functioned in a
co-coordinated way, but sadly, only with the help of a teacher. I know I
cannot make the good thing happen again without a teacher, shall I just
wrap up this packet and put it away, and wait for the time when I can
have lessons again? This is frustrating."

I think it is perfectly possible for you to "make the good thing happen
again", without a teacher, but not all at once, so it might not feel
like they're happening at all. It's also important to remember that you
made it happen by stopping thinking and acting in certain ways. The
teacher merely helped. The trouble is, you had too much too quickly! You
can't possibly do things at that speed, alone. And, because you will
necessarily be advancing in tiny stages, you may fail to notice any
difference.

My brother rang me last night and we talked about his yoga. He's been
practising three mornings a week for two hours each morning at a local
club. It's astanga yoga, quite vigorous. I asked him how it was going
and he said progress was slow and he sometimes felt he was going
backwards. I said it was important for him to remember that change is
almost always slow. It's like growth. Everyone can remember their aunt
or uncle saying 'my, how you've grown' when they haven't seen you for a
year or so, while you feel exactly the same.

This is especially true with muscular change. Muscles are like a
perfectly fitting suit. If we change muscularly, whether through age,
exercise, or something like the Technique, it's often difficult to
remember how we were originally. We go out and buy new suits; but if we
were to dig an old one out of our wardrobe and try it on years later we
would be shocked at how we've altered. So it is with our muscular state.
If I or my brother were to try and slip into our muscular state of a
year or two ago we would realise we are no longer the same person. We
might be pleased or horrified but we would certainly be surprised.

I would hazard a guess that if you were to step into the person you were
before you ever heard of the Alexander Technique, you'd find it not only
physically, but mentally, a much tighter, less comfortable space.


Concerning breathing - I think you just need to carry on experimenting.
There is a fine line between not interfering with the breathing process
and interfering with it in the opposite way to the habitual one. What I
mean is, there is the danger of becoming afraid of 'breathing fully' for
fear of overdoing it. This particularly applies to the inbreath during a
whispered ah. Allowing the air to 'flood' into your lungs can feel like
making more effort than you might like; but it's important to allow this
to happen.

Concerning squatting - you say

"The body seems to be expecting the existence of such and is preparing
itself automatically by holding the breath and tightening up generally
(I just felt a general tightening around my shoulder and neck and head
retraction without knowing precisely how it was) when it reached the
seat level. Similar for standing, when I reached the moment of "getting
up" from the squat, I needed the thrust to stand up. Again holding the
breath and general tightening. I also tried coming over the centre of
balance more than I usually do, less thrust was necessary and I felt my
ankles and calf supporting more of my body weight."

Again, just keep experimenting. It's well worth stopping just prior to
the point where you feel like you need more 'thrust' or are about to go
out of balance. Try allowing yourself to come a little further over your
centre of balance than you are used to and go from there instead.

You ask

"The adult squat, is it meant to be something to get round the problem
of not being able to squat traditionally in front of people, i.e., a
solution to maintain balance while we can't squat?"


No, not really. It's to allow people to achieve their centre of balance
much earlier than would otherwise be the case, and without any need to
tighten in the neck. If you stand in front of a chair, and 'pretend' to
squat, you'll find you need to bend at the hips quite severely, and
you'll end up looking way down at the ground, or tightening your neck to
look up. This is particularly the case just prior to arriving on the
chair. The key moment, in fact, when, to avoid these problems, you'll
tighten all over, stop breathing, and generally 'fix' your musculature
out of balance! It's the same with getting out of a chair, assuming you
endeavour to do a 'reverse' squat.

However, if you place one foot, either the ball or the toes, behind the
other, tucking it under, or to the side of, the chair, before standing
or sitting, you should find you come over your centre of balance much
earlier, and that it's therefore relatively easy to move fluidly without
disturbing your musculature.

Tell me if this isn't so, as I may not have explained it well.

This is a practical solution to an act we repeat endlessly. Particularly
for females. Men can happily widen their stance, which has much the same
effect, but looks inelegant. For example, if you were wearing an above
the knee skirt, sitting amongst other people, the odds are your knees
and feet would be close together. That makes staying in balance when
sitting or standing - particularly if eye contact is being maintained
with others - virtually impossible. Shifting the position of the feet
can make a huge difference.

You ask

"How does seeing in 3 D affect our use?"


The answer is, I don't know, for sure! But a New Zealand Alexander
teacher, Peter Mansfield, has made an art form of linking sight and use.
He has a web site which is called something like www.eyebody.com which
explains this in more detail.

For me, I equate not seeing in 3D with 'thinking about'. The two seem to
go hand in hand. When I am seeing in 3D, I'm unable to 'think about' at
the same time. So, since I believe that 'thinking about' is the prime
cause of poor use, the same would apply to non 3D sight.

Since thought usually precedes action, I would suggest we would
automatically see in 3D whenever we're not 'thinking about'. Since we're
'thinking about' nearly ALL the time, that leaves so little 3D seeing we
barely recognise its existence.

Sometimes, though, it seems easier to switch on 3D seeing than stopping
'thinking about'. It's certainly clearer when it is and isn't happening.


Over the years, I've corresponded with loads of people about self-help
Alexander. Sometimes there's only a couple of emails, sometimes dozens.
It's a very individual process; and it obviously has severe limitations,
since it is entirely dependant on written feedback. What I mean is, I
never see what's happening!

So, if I don't say anything as specific as I might have done in the
early stages, it's because it is difficult to be sure if what I might
say to someone I was seeing personally would be appropriate for someone
I'm unlikely to ever see.

Therefore, if I end up suggesting you do 'more of the same', it's partly
because that's what the Alexander Technique is, and partly because you
are acting as your own teacher, and have no choice but to uncover things
yourself.

What I would say is that all the little things you have uncovered are
all you need to work with. They're there, already. However slight they
might seem, they're the tip of an iceberg that, if you persevere, will
show more and more of itself. But it happens slowly.

When you talk about "holding the breath and general tightening", it's
important to recognise what a template this is. Think of that as the
key. The more aware you are in everyday life of "holding the breath and
general tightening" the more often you will be able to inhibit it.
That's all you have to do!

If we relate that to my shoulder experience - all I was aware of after
my first lesson was my shoulders lifting and tightening virtually all
the time. So I worked at inhibiting this, and it took years, but now I
hardly ever do it. I still hold my breath and tighten up generally,
though, just as we all do. So, the tendency doesn't go away, but its
severity lessons from the first moment you become aware of it. Think of
it like water dripping on a stone: eventually, a hole will appear; but
not overnight.

What might be useful, if you wanted, is if you were to describe, in your
own words, a whispered ah, from beginning to end, just as you carry it
out, including whatever you experience, think or feel. Or the process of
standing from sitting; or sitting from standing. Or any other procedure
you like. I could then suggest anything I think might improve your
experience.

Only if you like!

Finally, you mentioned, either this time or last, semi supine, and how
much more comfortable you found it after your second lesson. I used to
teach evening classes and for part of the time I would get everyone in
semi supine and then work my way around them. During this time I would
put a tape on that I had recorded specifically for people on their own.
Basically, it (the tape) asked people to pretend they were being worked
on: to pretend their head was being picked up and eased away from the
rest of them; to pretend their legs and arms were being moved in turn.
This worked because they had had the repeated experience of me working
in just this way on them. What happens - or what is supposed to happen -
when teachers work on students in semi-supine is that muscular release
is initially encouraged by the teacher's hands and voice, that this
becomes forumulated as an intention on the part of the student, who
hopefully sends messages to this effect, and when the result of this is
sensed by the teacher, he or she 'takes up the slack'.

'Taking up the slack' is the one part you can't do on your own, at least
not easily. What I mean by this is, if you have a tight musculature
lying down, which then 'let's go' to some extent, you can't, without
major effort, rearrange yourself to accommodate for the letting go. So,
if your neck and head were scrunched up when you first placed them on
the books, even though the internal state of your muscles may have
changed, their relative position on the floor and books won't. With a
teacher present, that relative position will change, as a result of
their ministrations.

I sometimes get around this by suggesting people lie in semi-supine,
then do the imaginary work, but while doing this, actually move the
different parts of themselves, though never the head on the books.
However, what they can do for the head, after maybe five or ten minutes,
and occasionally thereafter, is reach behind to the books themselves and
EASE the books away from themselves, with the FULL weight of the head
remaining on them. That replicates to some extent the teacher's actions.

For the pelvis, it's possible to bring the knees towards the chest,
reach the fingertips around them and EASE the bottom, by a gently pull,
away from the rest of you.

For the legs, I would suggest lifting one leg until the foot leaves the
ground, straightening it, then leaving it lying on the ground for a
while before returning it.

For the arms, I suggest raising them on the elbows, then reaching them
out to the side and turning the palms over, sometimes letting the palms
reach back to the sides of the ears.

You must have had a couple of semi-supine sessions now. They may not
have been much like mine; but the sequence as I used to describe it
went:

Imagine the head is being lifted, gently encouraged away from the spine,
and then replaced on the books. Then one leg. Then the head again. Then
the other leg. Head again. One arm. Head. Other arm. Head. Pelvis. Head.

Having imagined this, you could then actually move, first the books,
then one leg, then THINK of the head being taken, then move the other
leg, then THINK of the head again, then move the other leg, then the
books, then an arm, THINK of the head, the other arm, THINK of the head,
then move the pelvis, finally the books again; and then stay still!

Hopefully, that will 'take the slack' out of your system!

There's a lot suggested about how you might be thinking during all this;
but I would save that for later. What I would suggest, though, it that
whenever you come to an actual movement, as opposed to an imaginary one,
and particularly when you move a leg, monitor your breathing like a
hawk. Don't breath in any special way; but don't stop breathing either!
If in any doubt, do a whispered ah at the same time, to help maintain
the flow.

All this is entirely voluntary, of course; but I would enjoy hearing how
you get on.


Eighth email:

I have wanted to write earlier but have been busy. The message I last
got from you is very insightful to me and has provided much food for
thought. In fact, I am keener in this AT pursuit more than ever.
Although the last lesson has put me off a bit and it was a frustrating
experience, I am still convinced that AT is more than that type of body
work in respect of putting the body in certain shapes according to a
certain "mantra" (neck free, head forward and up...). It is not the
essence of it, I would venture to suggest. When FM Alexander carried out
his experiments, I think what is most important is in his self
observation and self discovery. He observed his own habits and
questioned it, believing that the habitual way should not be the only
way, and there could be other ways to do it. I think to change our
habits, we all have to go through the same process. Just as what you
say, we have to become aware of what we are doing before we are able to
stop it. When those habitual patterns become sharper, we have a better
chance of stopping it consciously. And the teacher is only there to
help. I agree to what you say, since I learnt about AT some 4 years ago,
I have become a different person now. I have no idea how my muscles have
changed but I am clear that my way of thinking is certainly not the
same. I look at things differently and I believe that as time goes by,
I'll be able to pause and react differently, although it does not seem
obvious now. Since I started correspondence with you, progress is much
more obvious (seems faster too, although it is still a slow process).
How encouraging to read that if I persevere, I can progress by tiny
bits. The little things I discover about myself do show up bit by bit,
very slowly. Yes, I'll not give up. And I am convinced that inhibition
is something I can do without the help of a teacher and "the good thing"
will happen one day. There is a saying "the dripping water will make a
hole in a stone", that means with time and perseverance, even the most
incredible things can happen.

I had thought of such saying before you wrote. It is funny that you seem
to know what I was thinking every time you write. Concerning what you
say about breathing, "allowing the air to flood in can feel like making
more effort than you might like", that is exactly what I was going to
ask you. I felt an "influx (I described it as such before you wrote) of
air, very strong in fact. But I was telling myself not to do anything
and allow my body to breathe in. It is a shocking experience; I seemed
to be overdoing it. I had intended to ask you about that but your
message has cleared things up. I am still experimenting in order to get
a clearer picture about that "fine line between not interfering and
interfering in the opposite way to the habitual one."

You write,

"if I end up suggesting you do 'more of the same."

I like this approach and in fact each experience in the same procedure
is a new experience for me. I get more and more insights each time.
Thank you for being there to listen to my feedback. I'll describe in my
own words the whispered ah.


Whispered ah

I'll tell myself that I am going to do the whispered ah. This mental
process always comes in automatically. I will then look out what my body
is like at this point of time, where my tongue is, where my jaw is, how
am I breathing, am I staring with my eyes (which is mostly the case).
I'll then remind myself to avoid taking a breath to start. At this point
of time, I'll feel that my upper and lower teeth are tightly closed,
sort of pressing against each other. Then my attention will go to the
jaw, where it is jointed to the ears. I will then realize that the
tightening of the teeth goes all up to that joint. I'll imagine that my
jaw has some weight and let it drop and hang loose. I do not feel it
hanging loose, I just feel that I am putting it in a position lower than
it usually is, and holding it in that place with an effort. I'll then
switch my attention to my tongue. It will not be touching the back of
the lower teeth. I'll then tell myself to allow it to touch the teeth. I
have to move it to get there usually. Do I just have to think of
allowing it to touch the teeth without really moving it and let it stay
away from the teeth (but imagine that it is touching the teeth when it
actually doesn't)?

Jaw and tongue ready, I'll then open my mouth and let air come out from
my lungs. I won't say out the ah. I just think of being in front of a
doctor examining my throat and I am making that ah sound. Air will come
out and I'll tell myself not to make an effort to breathe out and push
the muscles. I'll just imagine that air is coming out. The shoulder will
"sink" as air comes out most of the time, seems that it is released all
of a sudden. It is funny that I'll feel more saliva in the mouth at this
point, seems that a tap was opened from the time the jaw is lowered and
saliva is flowing to fill up my mouth. I'll then have to swallow it.
When swallowing the saliva, I monitor my breathing in order not to break
the flow of things.

Most of the time, I am not quite certain about the point when the air in
the lungs is exhausted. Yes, muscles do contract and I feel the
contraction pointing towards somewhere near the stomach level. But I
have no idea about which muscle is doing what. The tensing up is very
strong and I will fear that I am overdoing things. I'll then decide to
end the breathing out stage. The in-breath that follows is usually
preceded by apprehension; the influx of air is too overwhelming. It
gives a feeling that I am doing too much. I seem to be gasping than
allowing air to come in. I'll try to remind myself to allow air to come
in and not try to breathe in myself. I'll rely on my hands to tell me
that my lungs are expanding, while physically I do not sense anything if
the hands were not there. When in semi supine, sometimes, I'll feel a
movement all over my back on the floor at this stage, down even to the
pelvis that rocks with the in-breath (still vague about how it rocks,
but there is certainly movement).

It is easier to tell that the lungs are full. I just can't take in more
air. I'll then release the jaw and have the tongue ready and start
another cycle. I'll usually get a clearer picture about a released jaw
after the first cycle. I'll feel that my face has become longer as the
jaw has been dropped. I'll check my eyes at that time and have to stop
staring and allow things to flow into my eyes most of the time at this
stage. I'll remember what my first teacher said, "in your life, space
might be rare. But there is always space in your head, if you allow it."
I'll find this space again by this stage, when the jaw is release and
the eyes are "released" in the sense that they are not required to focus
on things. In fact, I'll feel that they "are dropped" back and return to
where they are supposed to be. I'll feel that my eyes are in fact larger
and they are brightened up.

I also tried the reading aloud version of the whispered ah. I can now
manage to focus on the procedure and forget about the voice. The voice
does come out comfortably. I have a strange feeling that someone else
other than me is speaking and the voice comes out from a position that
is lower and more behind than usual, although I can't tell you exactly
from where.

So here's the procedure in my own words. It is not easy to describe
things that are so abstract in English. Just tell me to clarify if it
does not sound clear.


And here's some interesting feedback and a question on sitting from
standing:

I do not understand what exactly is the "centre of balance". Does it
mean, "centre of gravity"? When you say going "further over" the centre
of balance during squatting down, does it mean, I should go down more
into the squat, or bending the hips more?

I've tried bending more in the hips when sitting down. It was a new
experience. The action was more like squatting than sitting down and for
the first time I could forget about the existence of the chair. The legs
seemed to be doing more of the job too, especially in the lower legs.
They seemed to be supporting more of my body weight.


The semi supine:

I do not have much time for the semi supine. I'll tell you about it
later. Your explanations are very clear. Just want to ask, when you say,
"it's possible to bring the knees towards the chest, reach the
fingertips around them and EASE the bottom", do you mean reaching the
fingers around the bottom or the knees?


Finally, I have started to appreciate the little pause that we can have
in every day life. When the flow of life is not intense, I can sometimes
THINK of the pause and realize that I can choose to do things in a
different way than I habitually do. But I cannot really pause. I just
react habitually all the time. However, I sympathize with the poor self
that goes to each action "headlessly", being too busy about the end to
gain and not conscious about the means whereby. I will not attempt to
force myself to stop the habits at this stage. Over the last few years,
I'm been trying to give directions to myself, hoping that some miracle
will happen to my use. I will not say that these efforts are a waste.
But I agree with you that "inhibition' is at least also as important as
"directions', if not more important. I believe the consciousness that I
now have about the possibility of pause in life is an interesting path
to explore. I also enjoy observing myself reacting unconsciously out of
habit. What you say is encouraging: this "will contribute to changing
the felt sense of what I am doing. The shaprer this becomes, the further
I'll get. It is as simple as that".

Looking forward to hearing from you. Thanks once again for being there.


Eighth reply:

Good to hear from you.

An analogy I sometimes use is of a bath filled with water. Think of the
water as being you. Then, a single drop of blue ink is spilled into it.
It quickly vanishes. Think of the drop of blue ink as being an Alexander
thought. It's going to require many, many drops to make the bath even
begin to appear mildly tinged with blue. By the time this happens, you
will have got so used to its new colour, you will have forgotten it was
ever anything else.

So, change happens slowly, and I think it's a mistake to suppose that
suddenly, one day, the 'good thing will happen'. Perhaps that could be
better phrased as 'suddenly, one day, you realise the good thing is
happening, has happened before, and can happen again'.

Thanks for describing the whispered ah. There are a few areas I might
comment on. The first is the tongue. I should actually place, rather
than merely think of placing, the tip of the tongue against the lower
teeth. It may feel 'forced' at first; but eventually it'll sit there
quite happily.

As for the jaw, you might like to experiment, when alone, with very
gently 'pushing' the jaw forward (away from your neck) as you allow it
to 'hang'. This has a simian or monkeylike feel to it. So as not to
overdo this, try first to do it as far as you can, really thrusting your
jaw out. Then, assuming that is 100%, and what you 'usually' do with
your jaw is 0%, allow, say, 5%-10% to happen. Concerning the 'hanging'
of the jaw. If this doesn't appear to be happening (check in a mirror)
you can exaggerate the movement and then let go whatever obvious effort
was involved in the exaggeration. That should leave the jaw hanging
somewhat with no appreciable strain.

Did I mention the smile? Looking back at old emails, I don't think I
did. I'm sorry about that. At this point of the process, think of
something funny, and allow your face to smile. That's all. It's a small
but important point.

As the air comes out of your mouth, with or without an audible 'ah',
allow it to be of the sort of force that would make the flame of a
candle sitting a foot or so in front of you to wobble or flicker. In
other words, the air coming out doesn't just fall around your chin, it
projects away from you.

A certain effort is required to contract the ribcage in order to send
the air out of your lungs. Obviously, this wants to be minimal. Again,
it can help to judge what is appropriate by deliberately making a big
effort, then making absolutely no effort, and then making the slight
effort that is requires.

So, for all these things - the position of the tongue, the jaw slightly
forward and hanging down, the degree of effort in contracting the ribs,
the force of the outbreath, it usually helps to deliberately overdo it,
then do 'nothing' and then experiment with doing as little as possible.

It's important here to keep experimenting. Decide at a particular time
what's appropriate but don't assume it will be appropriate on all
occasions.

If you come back with your impressions of my impressions, that might be
helpful. Of course, the one missing ingredient here is me hearing (and
seeing) you; but let's make the most of what we've got!

Now, on to your other questions.

Yes, by centre of balance I did mean centre of gravity. Although we can
have a false impression of where this is, it's generally pretty obvious.
In terms of the squat, what tends to happen is overall stiffening when
we go out of our centre of balance to prevent us falling over. We can
liken ourselves to those anglepoise lamps you may be familiar with,
where if you hold the head of the lamp and push down, the frame bends in
two or three places, so you can lower the lamp to the height you want
while keeping it in balance.

By 'further over the centre of balance', I mean coming further forward
from the hips. So, for example, when leaving a chair, you would rock
forwards from the hips until you reached a point where you would be over
your centre of balance if the chair wasn't already supporting you. In
other words, if you expended the effort (mostly in the thighs) to take
your own weight, you could lift yourself an inch from the chair and stay
there, in balance. If you were, say, six inches less forward from the
hips and you tried to do that you might succeed with immense tightening
but it would be very uncomfortable.

Of course, the ankles and knees have major roles to play here.
Certainly, you don't want to overdo the hips while barely bending the
knees! That's why a full squat is so useful; it, rather than you,
determines how, when and where the knees, hips and ankles bend. A good
way to test this is to stand upright and allow yourself to rock slightly
onto your heels. If you're like the vast majority of people, you'll
stiffen to prevent yourself falling over backwards. Instead, as you
rock, let your knees flex; your ankles and hips can then join in and you
can 'allow' yourself to begin to squat. Stop a quarter of the way down
(half way to a chair) and you'll be in 'monkey'.

Try that often. Starting from standing, beginning to rock back on your
heels, allowing your knees to flex, and sinking into monkey, with the
head 'leading' (ie, still going upwards). Maybe you could let me know
how it goes.


Concerning semi supine, you ask if I mean, when I say "it's possible to
bring the knees towards the chest, reach the fingertips around them and
EASE the bottom", to reach the fingers around the bottom or the knees?

I mean the knees. That way you should be able to reach out and apply a
certain amount of 'pull' on your bottom and back without any strain in
the neck. You use your folded legs as a sort of fulcrum. Gently does it,
should be the watchword.

Finally, you said:

"Over the last few years, I'm been trying to give directions to myself,
hoping that some miracle will happen to my use."

I think this whole area of direction giving is fraught with problems.
It's far too simplistic, especially when it becomes a sort of mantra. I
believe the best way to understand the directions is to see them in
reverse. In other words, assume your 'neck is tightening, pulling your
head backwards and down, causing your back to shorten and narrow'.

You're doing this to yourself through unconscious direction sending.
Rather than asking your 'neck to be free, etc' by sending new directions
you could instead 'stop' sending the old directions to tighten and pull
down.

Of course, we are unable to recognise the form these old directions are
being sent in so we have to address them through their effects. In other
words, if we sense our necks tightening (as a result of messages we are
unconsciously sending) we can stop tightening them (this will result in
us stopping sending the messages). It's a tricky concept to grasp, but
the unconscious messages being sent, and their effects, are actually one
and the same thing.


Ninth email:

Thanks for the reply.

I agree with you that the approach of applying directions to myself over
the last few years is fraught with problems. I have told you in previous
mails that it has become an endgaining pursuit itself. I suspected that
AT is not just giving directions and there must be "something else to
it", something that I have failed to appreciate. I begin to appreciate
that inhibition is at least as important as directions. And I can
actually go quite far by myself with it, although the progress will be
extremely slow. I also agree that I can see the directions in reverse.
That is what I am experiencing too. During the last three years, giving
directions to myself always resulted in a kind of tug of war. The old
habits tend to fight against the new patterns being imposed. The result
was stiffness and more tension. What's more important is that I failed
to see what my old patterns were; I was just trying to suppress them. I
have started to work in reverse with you. I allow the habitual patterns
to emerge and observe myself more: how I stare at things and how I tense
up when standing up from sitting and squatting down. It takes a lot of
courage to face one old self, with all the unwanted habits, while
resisting the urge to put oneself right. What is amazing to notice is
that, the non-doing is so simple. Once I am conscious of the habits, I
do not even have to ask myself to stop or put my body in a certain
shape. The habits (like staring) just disappears (for very short moment
most of the time).

I am also convinced that changes will happen slowly, so slowly that I
won't even notice. Each tiny bit of thought of AT will help. But may I
ask this can I also be equally assured that things will continue to
improve (even the process is slow), but not deteriorate?


The whispered ah:

Thanks for mentioning the smile. Now it always comes in naturally in the
process. The speech therapists always asked me to open my mouth wide in
order not to block the air passage. I never managed to do it. With the
smile, this has been achieved without effort.

I could project the air when breathing out too. The image of the candle
is helpful. The air going out is strong and steady. If I do it longer
when I have time, I can reach a point where I need minimum effort to
contract the ribcage but the air coming out is still strong. I can
describe it as more effective than the way I usually breathe, while I
try so hard to contract the ribcage and less air actually comes out.

Your suggestion of "overdoing" then "nothing" then "as little as
possible has been very useful, especially for the jaw. With the
"overdoing", I started to get the idea of how the jaw should be hanged
and allowed to go forward, and how different I could breathe out. It
requires more effort to do nothing than doing as little as possible. The
latter is the most comfortable. I may go stiff if I force myself to do
nothing.

I started to appreciate the flooding in of the in-breath too. Only
little effort is required. I notice that in my daily life, I am doing
too much to breathe in.

There is always a release of shoulders during the process, sort of
dropping down. I sensed the release of the pelvis once, when I thrusted
the jaw out.


Squatting and sitting:

I felt the general tense up when rocking back on my heels, although it
is not specific enough. I allowed my knees to bend the moment when I
felt I was starting to fall down. My kinesthetic sense told me that I
was inclining to the back at this point of time. The mirror told me that
I was straight. I then went down as if I was squatting. I was in Monkey
easily without the need to concern how much bending is required on the
knees, hips and ankles.

The awkward moment arrived whenever I reached the seat level. I would
stop squatting automatically and "rested" on the seat. The body seemed
to go through a kind of ritual, from the pelvis to the head, of being
seated. It was like tensing up and putting the body in a certain shape
(trying to sit up straight I think). I felt that this action went up
from the pelvis all the way up. I would then think of going on
squatting. I would tell myself that I couldn't because I was on a chair!
It is a funny experience but it is hard to describe it in words.


Semi-supine:

I always felt some pulling down of the head after I tried to ease it
away from the spine with its full weight on the books. It happened after
each step (pelvis, leg, leg...). I release it, it goes back to its
original place automatically.

When the head is eased and balanced, the ribcage tends to float. Sort of
feeling like wood floating on water. Think of this image, the wooden
blocks are frozen in a big ice cube immersed in water. The ice melts and
the wooden block (each rib) loosens and floats on the water. Funny
enough.

These are the new experiences I have recently. Perhaps you may wish to
comment on them.

By the way, a new teacher has become available locally. I believe they
have links to Barlow. I may be starting lessons soon.

Thanks and bye for now.


Ninth reply:

Sorry about the delay in replying. Generally, when I get an email, I
either reply straightaway, or I start replying and then pop it in the
draft folder for later. 'Later' can be very variable!

It's interesting to consider the element of chance involved in finding a
teacher and having lessons. You, for example, have had two lessons with
the only two teachers available, and they've been massively different.
Imagine if there were fifty or a hundred and fifty teachers, like, say,
London, and how difficult it would be to chose the ideal one.

I'm not sure I can guarantee you won't go backwards! As I see it, all
progress is a case of one step forwards, half a step back. So there will
inevitably be regression. I think I can say it would be virtually
impossible for you to return to your starting point. But there will
undoubtedly be times when you feel you're getting nowhere. Try not to
despair. It's a common enough syndrome, even if you're having dozens of
lessons.

Your feedback on the whispered ah and semi supine makes it sound as
though you're comfortable with the process. It's important you keep your
senses tuned for habit patterns that will be glaringly obvious when you
notice them but can be horribly difficult to see for the first time.
Often, they're right in front of the nose.

As an example, I could mention that for years - after many lessons and
half way through the training course - I became aware that whenever I
moved any part of myself while lying in semi supine (ie, a leg or arm) I
held my breath. I 'knew' I did this in everyday life whenever I exterted
even a small amount of effort, as in slicing bread, threading a needle,
changing gear in a car, etc) but not while working on myself at the
Technique. What was more embarrassing was the breath holding actually
made the subsequent movement much more difficult - but I simply hadn't
noticed.

In other words, after umpteen lessons, I still remained blissfully
unaware of something as fun