Developing the Power to Choose.

Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” ― Viktor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning
How to allow myself to find this space of which Frankl speaks?  Finding my breath and observing it  a few times is one way.  Using the Alexander Technique concept of inhibition is another.  Slowing down our habitual responses to life's activities,  allows an opportunity to see what one is doing and to maybe even have a choice in how the activity is carried out.  This is paramount for a musician.  Habits useful or not are so easily formed, but not so easily released.  I want the time remaining to play my instrument to be effective, to serve music and this musician in a sustainable manner.

As I pick up my guitar case I decide that I will focus on practicing Alexander Technique Inhibition throughout this session.  When I place it down I pause, first to calm my thinking, then to direct my thinking about how I want to open the case.  Is this important?  Yes.  When I begin my practice with quality, then this can spread and grow throughout the session.  As I sit on my stool, I hold the thought "I am not holding onto any outcomes for this session."  For a goal directed person, this tweaks my being.  But I want the freedom to see, learn from and develop how I am playing.  And yes, I  want certain pieces to be ready to record next week, but if I allow this goal to be the key rather than how I get there, the goal may be compromised.

As I begin playing through The Call I notice mental chatter.  If there must be chatter then let's direct it.  Slipping in thoughts of length and freedom between the phrases I'm working with, rather than judgements seems an informed use of chatter.  Sensing this blog post was developing I reach for my clip board to make notes.  Then I inhibit my need to do.  I see how I am holding the clipboard, guitar about my body, leaning to the right.  I make  different choice and remove the guitar.  Inhibiting again and directing my thinking along AT lines I then make notes.  Noticing the extent of my awareness I am grateful and continue to inhibit after I put the clipboard down.  May seem trivial to some, but the aliveness in my being was a sign to me to continue.

As I reach for the guitar, I think of my edges - the fingers, toes, head, skin - are they alive right now?  Free?  I include my mind and heart.  Can I approach unity in my action?  I continue in this manner as I practice bringing my thoughts back to how I am using myself as I play; as I take off the guitar; as I walk to the kitchen to get coffee.  The reward is heard in the notes.  As I reflect at the end of the session I formulate this thought.  Change will happen - am I directing the change or merely devolving into old habits?  Are you?


Photo by Sammiblog

Laying Down the Visualization

Another nap after work this evening to rejuvenate my ailing body.  Delicious homemade soup with pumpernickel bread for dinner, followed by more resting while working the crossword puzzle.  Then I hit the floor for an Alexander technique lie-down.  After a few minutes with my back settling into the floor and my right arm relishing letting go, I decided to work with visualizing the piece Senseless Loss.  This may have been the first time that I've ever worked with visualizing a piece during a lie-down.  With freedom in my body I could see my fingers moving on the fretboard in my mind's eye.  My right arm remaining relaxed, my right elbow free,  my neck happily resting on the paperback books.

Towards the end of the piece, my visualization faltered as I was uncertain of one of the fingerings.  Yet in the prone position on the floor, I was able to remain focused and free about what I was undertaking.  When I moved to play my guitar, I decided to begin with Senseless Loss.  But first I just held my guitar between my legs and inhibited my desire to play.  I gave myself the Alexander Technique directions to free my neck and spine, my back, my legs, my shoulders and my arms.  Then after I moved my arms to the guitar, I paused again, quickly running through the directions.

After playing a few bars I paused to turn on the recorder.  As I began to play my tone was soft and even, the notes flowing from my fingers.  I began to think how I might write this up for the blog.  And yes my playing deteriorated rapidly.  As the Guitar Craft aphorism aptly states - We begin again constantly.  And so I did.  First taking time to find my breath; to work with the Alexander Technique directions; and to just be in the moment with my guitar, with myself. With the recording device running, I played through the piece again.  Then I moved on to improvising with chords based on fourths.

After a short break I returned to the guitar.  Taking time to reconnect with my body and my guitar through breathing and the Alexander Technique,  I then turn on the recorder.  Playing through Senseless Loss one more time.  As much as possible keeping my attention directed, my body free.  Though I have not listened to this run through, I suspect this is the best that I've ever played this piece.  I will not listen to the recording tonight.  The process is what matters most, not the end result.  Perhaps I'll play a bit more, perhaps I'll rest.  I'll make that decision in a moment.

One Small Victory

I was going to slip in a short guitar session before dinner today, but decided first to read through a section of Missy Vineyards book dealing with the prefrontal cortex and inhibition.  As I read, I would pause and follow along with her thinking experiments.  Sitting in a chair with no guitar, I began to apply her thinking first to "not playing the guitar" but then decided to apply inhibitory thinking to my right arm & hand.  After 10 minutes or so, of gently playing with these thoughts of "forward & up to the prefrontal cortex" and not holding onto my arm, then my elbow, and then my hand, I returned to the whole arm again.  During this time I had a sense of my head on top of my spine and at times sense a lightness in my torso similar to what I believe she was describing.  My relationship to the room also appeared to change, a different sense of the space around me.

Then at one point, a muscle on the right side of the back of my neck let go.  Though I can not name this muscle, I know it since it has been sore at times of extended playing and/or typing.  Just a simple release of tension, certainly unnecessary tension as all I was doing was sitting, occasionally reading, and thinking inhibitory thoughts.  This muscle is part of the habit I named "The Lean" last week.  Could this muscle tensing be the cause of putting the system out of balance on my right side leading to the execution of "The Lean" as I move my arm into position to play?

Certainly a small victory in line with what Alexander said: "This is the principle of the whole work - not to do something but to think.  We redirect our activity by means of thought alone.  This principle is the hardest of all to grasp.  People just don't see it. Yet we know that it works.  It is demonstrable." (Thanks to Missy V. for this quote that Goodard Binkley attributes to Alexander in his book The Expanding Self.)  I have had this experience before with working with AT inhibition and direction, but it continues to surprise me when a muscular release arises by thought alone. 

When I did move to the guitar, as soon as I sat with my instrument and practiced inhibition again, I noticed my relationship to the room changed spatially once more.  I lack the descriptive power to elaborate on this, but this happens to me with the hands of an AT teacher and occasionally through arriving in the present moment.  I began to play Senseless Loss and was enjoying the act of making music, listening to the melodies,  being present with my activity.  Then the fantasy thought arrived - "Could I do this in Missy's upcoming workshop."  The connection I had with myself, the guitar, and music was short circuited as this thinking rattled on.  I stopped playing and began again.

On the second run through, I kept the thinking and chatter down, but then noticed the tension developing in my left hand as the piece neared the end.  "Should I stop playing now?"  "Or develop my stamina with this piece?"  Needless to say the ending fell apart.  Which is fine, the overall process was successful and will lead to deeper revelations and releases I am certain.  In the words of Todd Rundgren "Give us just one victory and we're on our way ..."

Not Holding Onto Love

A friend is suffering from a loss that is so difficult to understand and process. While words offer some relief, I sense that much more is needed.  I'm not certain I have what is needed. But I do what I can.  Tonight as I sat with my guitar practicing AT inhibition with "I am not holding onto my neck" I thought of him.  My intention was to play Gathered Hearts as an offering to his suffering.  After inhibiting the movement of my arms to the guitar, I brought them to her.  I was about to offer up the direction "I am not playing the guitar" when out of nowhere "I am not holding onto love" arrived.

I repeated this thought and then began to play.  Towards the middle of this piece a mistake arrived that could have disrupted the flow, but I thought "Love does not hold onto mistakes."  After I completed the piece I thought "If only I could live my life with this way?"  Then with thought of another person and another piece,  I began to play and let it go again.  

The Lean

I began my morning practice by sitting down and audiating Senseless Loss.  This process informs me how well I know a piece.  Today audiation showed me that I now have a firm grasp of how I intend to play this piece.

Standing with my guitar and working with Alexander Technique inhibitory thinking I began to working with the beginning of this piece.  After a few minutes I sat down and continued to work with inhibition. I am not holding my neck followed with I am not playing the guitar.  Bringing my hands to the guitar and inhibiting again.  I then turned on the tape machine and inhibited again.  Just as I was to play the first note I notice myself moving slightly forward and to the right side of my body with a slight downward crunching of my upper torso into the pelvis.  Do I do this often?  Was I just quiet enough this morning to notice this subtle but definite movement that as I played a customary tension in my right leg arose. This movement which I dubbed "The Lean," would account for tightening and tension that I notice regularly on the right side during or after playing.

I have enough AT experience to know that this tension involves the neck, but have not detected how I use myself to generate this tension.  Seeing "The Lean" I noticed the neck and shoulder areas that have been stressed at times, and how also this downward direction of my upper torso into my pelvis might account for the tightness in my right leg that has plagued me for years when playing seated.


Letting go of the guitar I did a few minutes of Qi Gong .  Sitting down again with the  tape on I began to go through a series of inhibitions again.  I am not holding onto my neck, my arms, my body. At one point I arrived at just I am not holding.  I moved my arms to the guitar and worked with "I am not playing the guitar."  Simply holding this thought, I noticed sensations particularly in my right arm, which seemed to allow a slight lengthening & lettting go. I also noticed a slight tilt of the head towards my right shoulder.  Might this tilt of the head be the predecessor to "The Lean" it thought? Removing my arms from the guitar, I became aware of my right hand and then the left.

Deciding to wake them up with movement a bit I began to flex them and then rotate my hands about my wrists.  I could hear an occasional audible click arise from my right wrist. Allowing my hands to return to the guitar I again held "I am not playing the guitar. "

At one point I allowed my right hand to play the first note and then flowed into the piece.  Senseless Loss was being played beautifully when the thought arose, "oh but I could never inhibit that long in a performance."  Ah the state shifted, the monkey mind finding a branch to swing out of the moment on.  Working to continue playing while struggling to quiet the monkey mind I noticed I was tensing, so I let go of the playing.

This evening I returned to the guitar, aware of the tendency if not a habit to invoke "The Lean."  Inhibiting and directing were successful, but then I noticed how another habitual use of my right arm that I have had some success with changing had arrived once again.  And so it goes ...

The Place of Waiting

 

How do I wait?

With awareness.

Though

sometimes I am lost

bouncing about

within

body & mind?

Why do I wait?

To learn.

When do I wait?

Not often enough.

Ahh but when I do ...

Can I inhibit movement as an act of waiting?

Can I direct my thinking as a way of waiting?

Will I calm my heart?

Do I wait?

Or plunge?

Or both?

Maybe even plunge into waiting?

Why do I wait?

To find out where I am.

To listen to my thoughts.

Maybe even to listen to my speech.

To release the unnecessary and perform an act with ease.

To see.

When do I wait?

When I remember.

How do I remember?

Practice

By reflecting on the fruits of waiting.

Practice

With the help of others.

From the guidance of a tradition.

Practice

Practice

By finding myself in a jam and waking.

Quiet.

_ _ _

 Retreat.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Where do I wait?

Inside 

My

Thinking

Body

Heart.

Who waits?

_____________

Inhibitory Experiments

 I'm still moving through Missy Vineyard's excellent book on the AT and today I began playing with her "Acts of Inhibition."  Mind you that I have worked with "inhibition" frequently and have blogged about this in the past.  Perhaps because of my study of science in my youth, when the word "experiment" is mentioned this grabs my attention.  Scientists publish their results for the community to examine and attempt to replicate. So when Missy mentioned that "first you will practice two intermediate inhibitory acitvities. These are experiments ..." she had my attention.

Laying down in the semi-supine position, I quieted my thoughts.  Allowing my attention to focus on the what she terms "the attic," I worked to maintain my focus on my thinking rather than getting caught in the sensation of the movement.  Slowly bringing up my right arm just a bit as I held the thought "I am not moving my arm."  Pausing to focus again, move a bit, redirect the thought, I kept this process going over the course of minutes.  Occasionally noticing tension, I would pause and redirect.  I did these experiments three times and then once with my left arm.

Then I played with this process of bringing my right arm as if I was to play the guitar.  Reminding myself I am "not playing the guitar" as I also kept the direction alive of "not moving."  Noticing different areas of my back, neck, shoulders, and upper arm let go a bit as I did this.  Fairly early in the act of bring my right arm to the guitar experiment, I noticed that my right hand had a clenching quality to it.  What was this about I wondered as I let my hand and fingers release and lengthen.   Chuckling as I had to remind myself that this is not about getting it right.  Rather I am setting the conditions to "let the right thing do itself" as F. M. Alexander so wisely described.

As I took my guitar out of the case, I reminded myself of the primary AT directions and followed this with various inhibitory directions as I settled into my chair.  This next experiment would be to move my right arm to the guitar and perhaps even play a bit.  After spending a minute to quiet my thinking, I began with the direction of "I am not moving my right arm."  After holding this thought a bit, I did begin to move my arm, and the next thought that arose was one I have played with in the past "I am not a guitarist."  I had meant to keep on with the "I am not moving ..." but the "not a guitarist" arose and so I followed this.

In my conversation with Robert Rickover of the Body Learning Podcast series, he observed how this negative or inhibitory direction of "I am not a guitarist" was a "meta-level higher" than the simple I am not doing directions."  Today I saw that this type of direction offered another, perhaps deeper freedom of movement for me since part of my issues arise from moving like a guitarist rather than a human being.  Though I absolutely will not fault the instructions given to me by various guitarists, it has been my internalizing and execution  of these instructions that has led to the aches and pains over the years.  In fact at times I have ignored sound advice rather than take the step backwards to be able to move forward.

I played with this experiment of "not being a guitarist" to bring my right arm to the guitar three times.  Again I noticed unnecessary tension in my right hand on the first two times.  On the third experiment my arm did something different in the area of my elbow.  I lack the technical terms to adequately describe this, and while I am not certain that it was "right" this was how my arm moved after nearly 25 minutes of intensive thinking aimed at inhibiting or disrupting my habitual use.  On this third time, I chose to play an actual piece, Senseless Loss.  About a minute into this piece, the mind began to wander.  Thoughts of how to describe this in the blog and pats on my back began to overtake me.  Old habits of monkey mind now beginning to gain speed.  So I stopped playing.  Took a few breaths and decided it was time for a break.

One major item I am taking away from this work today is  if I do not move as a guitarist, but allow this amazing system of muscles, tendons, bones, and brain to move according to design and principle I just might become a better guitarist.  Can I inhibit this guitarist enough to allow this ease and freedom to grow?  Can I inhibit this guitarist enough to let the right thing do itself?  Yes of course, but will I allow do this work is the tougher question.  Will you?

Missy Vineyards excellent book is available here:  How You Stand, How You Move, How You Live: Learning the Alexander Technique to Explore Your Mind-Body Connection and Achieve Self-Mastery

Be in the Space

Grateful tonight for simple conveniences such as lights and air conditioning after having done without the past two days. As I was taking my guitar out of the case I had a wish - May I be in the space where I am practicing.  So simple, yet so difficult to just be where I am.  To be alive in the space I am living in this moment.  Using the Alexander Technique principle of inhibition, I paused and directed my thinking, rather than just allowing my habitual responses to having a guitar in my hands to arise.

Using the negative direction of "I am not compressing my neck," I then moved on to "I am not playing the guitar."  From these thoughts and then thinking forward, up, and wide, I took in the space that has been offered to me tonight.  Enjoying the sound of my guitar in a different room, while lightly thinking to keep myself free.

Slowly the thought of "I am not playing the guitar," is offering glimpses of non-doing as I play.  While singing the bass notes of a tremolo piece as I played, I entered the piece in a new way; perhaps I entered the space within the piece.  Hearing what is possible for this piece and realizing I do not need to think about what the music means, but rather to play the meaning.  Slowly, ever so slowly, I learn.

Connection Found

Last night I was able to return to my Qi Gong class after missing two sessions after a week of flu.  After an hour & fifteen minutes, I was so connected.  My body relaxed, mind focused, and energy freely moving throughout the system.  If only I could live in this space.

Tonight I did a few minutes of Qi Gong before practicing guitar.  Always a good way to warm up my hands, bring my body/mind together, and to get my energy moving.  I was working on two difficult passages from two different pieces this evening.  After good progress was made on the first piece of work, I took a brief break and turned my attention to the second difficulty.

This section has plagued me for sometime.  Part of my problem is that as pieces are evolving I am developing insufficient knowledge of fingerings as the piece is not complete.  Frequently by the time a piece is complete, I have some habits that need addressing.  This is the case with this section.  As I was working on this tonight, I noticed I was lacking connection with myself, the guitar, and with the music.  I removed the guitar and sat for a few minutes to establish the connection with myself.  Then returning to the guitar, I directed with the AT directions, and considered how I might approach what I was doing.

I decided to play just up to the transition that is problematic and then inhibit playing the next notes.  As I worked with inhibition, I sensed a greater connection with the piece, noticing how the energy was building and needed the proper execution of the next part to allow the piece to "take off."  One time I spoke instead of playing; another time I lifted my feet; and I made other gestures, all the while paying attention to what I was doing.  Then as I was leading up to this one more time, I noticed myself catching my breath, so I exhaled but continued to inhibit the playing.  Beginning the section again,  I followed my breath and began to exhale just before the problem part.  I played the notes beautifully.  A few more times of just staying with my breath, not attempting to time the breath with the part, but remaining connected and allowing the breath to support myself and the music.

This is not the first time I have learned this lesson, and possibly not the last.   Just happy to be learning, breathing, and making music.

Releasing the Hold on My Holding Hand

Yesterday and again today at various times I paused and checked in and directed my body with the AT directions.  I continue to notice the left hand assuming some type of position relative to the right.  The left elbow appears to be "held" to a degree resulting in tension, whereas in the right elbow this is not noticed.  Working with my guitar tonight I was reviewing how I bring my left hand to the guitar.

Using inhibition of the act, I did notice a slight tensing in my left shoulder as I thought of moving the hand to the guitar.  This is in the area beneath my strap, an area I had issues with years ago resulting from lifting the shoulder to meet the weight of the guitar.  My dear friend and dance legend Robert Ellis Dunn, noticed me doing this and helped me to correct this situation.  So I removed the guitar and began bringing my left hand to the guitar, looking to see if I can maintain my length and freedom while not having the weight of the guitar on my body.

Still I noticed a certain holding in the hand, but then again how long have I been doing this?  How long has this been "working" for me?  Then I began performing the same motion with my right hand and arm, as if I was going to fret the notes with my right hand.  As this arm does not usually move in this way, the habit of how my right hand would arrive at the fretboard is not ingrained in me.  After a few times with this motion on the right, I began to alternate between the right and left arms.  Slowly the movement on the left seemed to let go a bit, as if bilateral transfer was taking place.  Slight degrees of freedom being attained.

When I returned to the guitar, I mimicked bringing my right hand up to the neck.  Mind you, my right arm is not encumbered by the weight of the guitar, but I just wanted to play with the concept of bilateral transfer some more.  After a few times of alternating the right and the left I played a few notes.  The quality of these notes were noticeably better than my earlier playing.  Resisting my desire to end gain and keep playing, I continued to experiment with bringing my arms to the guitar neck, real and imagined.  Then I allowed my left arm to extend out away from my body along the line of the shoulder and then drawing my arm back to the body while releasing the elbow and turning the arm to bring the hand to the neck.  I'm certain I have never used my left arm in this manner before.

After doing this a few times, I began to play, the notes were beautiful, but then something happened, where I flinched my neck and/or left shoulder.  This was not a conscious choice, nor a habit, but did introduce tension.  Beginning again, I extended the arm and brought my hand to the guitar in this unorthodox manner.  I began to improvise and enjoyed a freedom of use which fed the improvisation.  From here I played portions of pieces and enjoyed the joy of music making.

Lengthening the Passage

Beginning with an AT lie down, I noticed a tightness in a muscle in my left arm close to the shoulder.  This is not new information, I usually notice this particular tension, as well as some in my left forearm.  I suspect this has arisen from how I have played the guitar.  The great news is that the major issues I used to have with my left shoulder and wrist have not manifested in a very long time.  During the lie down, I spent most of the time contemplating my left arm.  Looking to release these muscles to their full length.  Just thinking thoughts of lengthening, and not "doing" anything with the arm.

Deciding to begin my practice where I left off last night, I played the first three chords of the passage and then inhibited the move to the next chord.  Pausing to direct, and then another play through.  Part of me wanted to see if I could introduce the next chord, but I continued to inhibit.  Then beginning with the chord in the sixteenth position I did transition to the next chord but while I was making the changes with my left hand I was only strumming the strings with my right. Pausing and playing, I was looking to see if I got in my way.  When the left hand motion was  flowing, I let go and took a short break.  No need to push forward at this point.

When I returned to the guitar, I began playing the two chords with the right hand arpeggios. Continuing to pause and give myself the time and space to be free via the AT directions.  When these changes were comfortable I began at the beginning of this passage.  An ease of playing was now present and this part of the passage was being played well at tempo.  Then I began the transition for the descending line of this passage. This next chord was easily added and then I moved onto other guitar work.  Tomorrow I'll resume with the descending line.

I took a break and thought about the set list for my upcoming gig.  I've made a few attempts with a list for this gig, but none of them have felt right.  I discussed this with my wife who also happens to be my number one fan.  I've had a first piece, last piece, and three pieces that have to be included.  After our discussion, I jotted down a list, and then played it through.  Felt good while I was playing through, and I am grateful I had the recorder on.  I'll listen on my way to work tomorrow and see what I think about the flow.  Of course the Alexander work I had been doing, nourished me as I played the set.  A few conscious directions were made and when I began playing the piece with the difficult passage I've been working on, I had a sense of my shoulders widening. 

Finding Freedom, Finding Space

Tonight I was again working with inhibition in the Alexander Technique sense, to examine and understand how to play a difficult section of music.  This section comprises a jump from playing an arpeggio in the sixth position to the sixteenth position and then onto a yet different chord shape in the eighteenth position.  Generally my arrival in the eighteenth position is where the problematic playing manifests, yet I had a sense that my actual problem was beginning before then.

I began by only arpeggiating the chords in the fifth, sixth, sixteenth positions and then inhibiting myself from playing any more.  Pausing before beginning this sequence again, I would give the directions to lengthen and widen, with the aim of beginning with good use.  At one point I noticed a slight moving forward of my right shoulder as my left hand made the jump to the sixteenth position.  Why am I doing this I wondered?  An answer did not arrive, but it seems as if somehow my right hand was attempting to help my left hand.  As the right shoulder moved forward, this also causes my right wrist to arch.  Unnecessary tension was being introduced at this point.  I began to work with making this jump while allowing my shoulders to remain wide and free.  This took quite some time.  I noticed there was a bit of anticipation arising as I finished the arpeggio prior to the jump.  Was this emotional entanglement intensifying as the passage continued and also confusing my use?  As I was not playing the full passage I could not observe this, but have a strong hunch that it was.  When my concentration faded I let go of this work.

After a short break I returned, and played with making the three shapes in the sixteenth position with my left hand and merely strumming them with the right hand rather than playing the arpeggio.  Then I introduced the move to the eighteenth position with it's various variations, while continuing to just strum each chord.  As I did this, I noticed that while the area between the frets is narrow on this part of the guitar, I was finding greater space to move my fingers within.  Nothing had changed about the fretboard, but my experience was one of space.  I decided to leave this particular exploration at this point.  Both hands and arms had gained new information, and rather than end-gain and attempt to put the section together, I wanted my body to assimilate the information.

As I resumed practicing, I began to play through a few pieces.  Happily I noticed that the AT attention I had given to my earlier practice was continuing to manifest with good use.  Time to return to playing.

Maintaining Freedom

The more I study the Alexander Technique, the more I see what an amalgamation of habits I am. Working with a section of Senseless Loss this morning, I began using the Alexander practice of Inhibition. Several times instead of playing, I would pause and do another action.  Giving myself the AT directions, offering myself length and width.  After playing the section I would inhibit again. There is something about stopping an action, that keeps me present within my body.  In this presence there is the possibility of a release of a habitual way of using myself.  Then when I allow myself to move, there is a certain freedom.  I sense this freedom, I can hear it if I am sounding notes, but then at some point, the mother of all habits end gaining kicks in.  Happy with the results I want to get on with it, and then this gradual devolvement of my use occurs. Is this a habit of my learning process?  Two steps forward with one back?

When I just went to return to the guitar, I disrupted another habit.  As I was ready to put the guitar on, instead I just held it and began to walk around the room.  I switched the guitar from my right and to my left hand.  Smiling, wondering how much subtle habit my be triggered by the very act of putting on my guitar.  Writing this now with a certain lightness inside, wondering what might come next.

Moving back to the guitar, this time I did about 30 seconds of shaking Qi Gong to introduce a different element of freedom. Just because the walking was a successful disruption, I do not want to just create another habit.  This time I played the part with an ease and grace that has eluded me to this point.  Playing it one more time, I then played through Here We Are.  My intent was twofold - to allow this ease to penetrate an older work and to not keeping playing the difficult section of Senseless Loss and dilute the experience.

I was going to play through the section one more time before breakfast.  Instead, I visualized myself playing through this section with ease and grace. 

Playing the Rest According to the Alexander Technique

Working with the new tremolo piece tonight, as this uses a pic and I trashed my right hand index finger nail yesterday.  The exercise of introducing a rest after the first beat of a measure has been bearing fruit the past three days.  Perhaps the most important outcome of this exercise is that I stay connected with my body. With this brief rest, I am able to quickly direct my thinking and also to release my breath when I find myself holding it.  My left hand is staying relatively relaxed for the stretches involved and also having my fourth finger anchored for most of the piece.  The rest coming after the transition, allows me to see when a particular transition is misunderstood, and when identified I work on this prior to moving forward.

Most of the bass line in this piece is in seven, except where I accidentally played it in six during my AT lesson.  As I have examined this piece after that, I like the impact the change to six has on the piece.  I have also separated the two hands when working on this tonight.  When I turned the metronome up two beats, I first played through just the right hand tremolo part, then played just the bass notes with the appropriate finger anchored on top, but not playing the tremolo notes.  Finally both hands were combined.

I've been working in short practice sessions, to keep my left hand from fatiguing, and to allow myself to reconnect.  After noticing that my left shoulder was feeling uncomfortable I took another break.  Part of me wanted to "muscle through," as I was making good progress, but I know from experience the long term danger this poor use leads to.  I even began attempting to pervert a concept from my recent AT class, when David talked about the core being strong and sending this energy through my hands.  This was when I knew I let go of practice and began writing.

As I have read over this, I see where this exercise of putting in a rest after the first beat of a measure, is an ongoing way of introducing the Alexander concept of inhibition into my playing.  Especially as I begin to think I "know" the piece, I find it harder to keep including the rest.  Yet  I am seeing the results of using the exercise, but my old friend "resistance" surfaces once again, attempting to sway me to let go of what is working.  Wondering if this will ever leave me, or remain in front of me to keep me practicing?  Grateful to Pedro de Alcantara's wonderful book on the Alexander Technique Indirect Procedures where I learned this particular exercise.

White

There is beauty in the cold /in the white fresh and clean /The nature like a bride in wedding dress /shyly hiding pulsating blood. Gunilla Ciasson

Reading these words on a cold winter morning, I wished we had snow outside today.  But we do not, just cold.  Though I would love to gaze at the familiar yet different forms evoked by snow, I accept what is and read more.

On the Full Moon Path blog I find this definition of interference “the disturbing effect of new learning on the performance of previously learned behavior with which it is inconsistent.”  Lately I think of interference from an Alexander Technique perspective,  how we habitually get in the way of a good use of the self from habits learned long ago. Through the Alexander practice of inhibition I can sometimes see and let go of my habitual interference in my use. According to this definition, does inhibition foster interference of a positive nature? Now I knew I needed coffee.

While making coffee I begin to put away the clean dishes. I played with inhibiting my actions to pick up items or to move to the cabinets. No need to hurry, I can enjoy mindfully putting away the dishes and learn a bit about how I use myself.  When this is done, I think of bringing order to the piles on my bureau while also practicing inhibition, and to find a small box for cd's to ship. Then I pause, realizing I am now interfering with my own desires. A precious morning when I am not heading off to work and have time to play guitar while I am rested and calm.

Where to begin was the question that formed as I sat on my stool?  Recalling the words from the poem I yearned for something fresh and pure - White.  Last night at the end of my practice, I began an improvisation that caught my attention.  If I had not had a celebration to attend last night I would have followed the idea that came to me.  I began with this germ of an idea and watched it take form.  A beginning was there, and sensing that I was in a good place, I inhibited myself. Using the Alexander Technique directions assisted me in maintaining a sense of my use and my energy to flow.  Another section tinkled out from the universe and then I recorded what I had so far.

Again I inhibited myself from plunging forward and used the AT directions to foster my movements and flow.  Playing through what I had so far a mistake appeared on the final note. Calling on Brian Eno's sage advice to "Honor thy mistake as a hidden intention," I asked myself how to incorporate this new aspect.  "What would 'White' sound like," I  thought?  I noticed a picture of my parents and sister on the shelf and lit a candle in front of them.

Returning to the guitar, I inverted the final chord, with it's "wrong note" and began a new section. Smiling as this section also flowed, I hit record again.  Noticing that I would need to leave soon I notated the chords and completed my practice. Many hours later my bureau is still messy and I did not look for the box. But music is waiting and I will work to make myself available. How are you interfering with the music in your life?

The Fate of Strings

Today the strings will be changed. Fieldwork DC begins this afternoon and I will be participating, that means playing, and to do that I must have new strings on my Godin. The Field process has been very useful for me over the years. In fact, one of the reasons I now play solo came as a result of a Fieldwork session. After FingerPaint faded, I continued to dabble in electronic music, primarily using long digital delays. This involved a lot of equipment and it was too much work to tear down, reset, play for a short time at the workshop, tear down, and reset at home each week. So I would present my work using a CD. I was prepared to take another session of the Field when I found myself wanting to perform something live, instead of popping a CD in a portable player. Eight days before the beginning of the session I picked up my Ovation and was horrified at the state of my playing. A tremolo piece, Aftermath, emerged; and I was born as a solo guitarist. Eventually I let go of the plectrum and returned to fingerstyle.

But about those strings, they still not changed. One of the pieces I will show at The Field today is Beneath Dark Images, which I have not played for anyone other than my wife. I decided to play through it a couple of times before changing the strings and allow the piece to simmer in my brain. I became aware of my body using the Alexander Technique directions. Then I decided to begin by working with inhibition on a particular transition in Livin' the Dream. While the problem in this particular transition appears to be in my left hand, I noticed via the use of inhibition that I was tightening my right elbow in anticipation. This introduction of unnecessary tension and shortening has a direct result on my left hand fingerings.

I worked with this for twenty minutes and then moved onto Beneath Dark Images. The quality in my hands that was already present from the previous work informed my playing through of this piece. I addressed two transitions that are problematic and decided to capture this process for the blog.

Yet those strings remain to be changed and change them I now will. Then there is the debris to pick up in the yard. How can I incorporate the yard work into my practice?